At His Command (21 page)

“We’ll be docking in about two hours, but the chopper is waiting for you.”

She felt the stare of two men. “It’s a good thing you arrived in time to save her. And her legalman should be commended for having the presence of mind to call the ship and alert me to the danger.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve got to be going.”

“Take care of yourself, Vargas.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Sia stirred and opened her eyes. No one was with her as she sat up, her side protesting. She was in a gown, lying in sick bay, an IV in her arm. Her head spun and she wondered how long it had been since Chris had left.

Without thinking, she pulled the IV out and swung her legs to the floor. Her knees buckled, but she pulled herself upright. Pain sliced into her side and her world spun, a terrible throbbing exploding in her head. She felt a heaviness at her neck and looked down. Chris had pinned his wings to her hospital gown and tears gathered in her eyes. She had to catch Chris. She had to talk to him. Now, in person.

She held on to the bulkhead as she made her way to the door and out into the gangway. She picked up speed as she headed for the flight deck. Sailors gaped at her as she passed in her hospital gown and bare feet, but she didn’t care if her backside was hanging out.

She had to talk to Chris.

She reached the deck as her strength was waning. And saw him. She screamed his name, but all that she could get out was a croak. She ran a short distance to the deck, but Chris opened the helicopter door and set his bag inside. He followed it without looking back.

Sorrow filled her along with a healthy dose of shame and regret. “Chris,” she said softly on a sob, clutching the wings in her hand, the edges biting into her palm. “Don’t go.” But as the doctor reached her, berating her for getting out of bed, Sia watched the chopper take off. She resisted as the doctor tried to get her back to sick bay. Watched until the chopper disappeared from her sight and Chris from her life.

She resisted the doctor’s attempts to move her while time slipped away as she sat there questioning, remembering, hurting, mourning. She released all the tears she had held for Rafael, all the pain she had been so afraid to feel at his loss. It all came pouring out in a deluge, in a storm that shook her and drained her. She grieved alone. Just the way her brother had died. And on the deck of the carrier where he’d lived his last moments, she let go.

* * *

Chris faced forward, going on sheer determination. He was exhausted in the aftermath of apprehending Maria Jackson. She had confessed everything in a monotone voice, looking at him with accusing eyes as if she knew him.

In the end, just like her former fiancé, Chris had ruined everything.

He delivered the confession to the captain, who promised he would contact SECNAV and take care of expunging Chris’s record of the pilot-error ruling.

Chris had told him not to bother, but he could see the captain wasn’t going to heed his request. Chris agreed with the captain that it was important to clear Rafael’s record.

It was the last thing he could do for Sia.

He turned his face away from the pilot as his eyes filled. Blinking away the tears was much easier than trying to clear the pain from his heart. He knew where Sia stood and it was clear from their last conversation she could never forgive him. Regardless of who was responsible for Rafael’s death, his jet had caused the accident. He felt raw at the thought that it was easier to forgive him when she thought he wasn’t responsible for his actions that day. For him, it was too little, too late. He couldn’t be with a woman who didn’t fully believe in him and support him no matter what.

He loved her, but it was too late for them.

As the chopper zoomed through the now bright blue sky, Chris closed his eyes and let sleep take him. When he got to Afghanistan he would have to hit the ground running. Best to get the rest he needed now.

As he drifted into sleep, he couldn’t help the memory of Sia’s beautiful face from being the last thing he thought about before he succumbed to his fatigue.

* * *

Washington, D.C., in the spring was beautiful. A late spring had pushed the peak of the cherry blossoms to mid-May. Sia decided to walk from her hotel to Pennsylvania Avenue where the ceremony for her brother would be held. The sidewalk was packed with people celebrating Memorial Day.

Two months had passed since Sia had left the
U.S.S. James McCloud
and she was due back in San Diego in two months to testify at Lieutenant Maria Jackson’s court-martial. There was really no need for a trial, since the woman had confessed. But testimony would be taken to strip the woman of her rank and insignia for the acts she’d committed against Navy personnel, along with the destruction of millions of dollars’ worth of Navy property.

Sia felt that was wholly justified, as her side twinged from the knife cut that had almost fully healed.

She had made several inquiries into finding Chris, but NCIS was tight-lipped about where he was and had been uncooperative in granting her access to either his contact number or email. She had to wonder if that was because he had explicitly told them to keep his number private from her. She was shut out and would just have to wait until he returned from his mission.

The need to talk to him burned in her gut as she rounded a corner and saw the Navy Memorial across the street.

Stepping off the curb, she checked for traffic and crossed. She approached the rotunda that featured a granite sea map of the world, tall masts displaying signal flags, surrounded by fountain pools and waterfalls.

She approached the statue of The Lone Sailor and stood in front of it for a moment, remembering her brother, remembering his courage and his dedication to defending his country. She remembered his bright blue eyes and dark hair, his handsome, smiling face.

She remembered how she had striven to get him what he was due. A place where she could remember him for all times. A tangible place.

But the satisfaction of reaching her goal dimmed in the wake of what had happened between her and Chris aboard the
McCloud
.

She left the memorial and entered the exhibit area; another statue greeted her—a family embracing their loved one, home from the sea. Tears welled in Sia’s eyes as she realized she would only be welcoming her brother home in spirit. For the first time, it was enough.

She located the room where the ceremony would take place and slipped in to take a seat in the second row. There was quite a crowd, all chattering as they settled in.

The ceremony started and a number of Navy personnel were honored. Then, when her brother’s memorial was next on her program, she looked up to see the former and current captains of the
U.S.S. James McCloud
walk out onto the stage.

Her breath caught when Chris stepped out after them and seated himself. He looked impossibly handsome, even with beard stubble, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a tousled mess. His gray eyes were filled with pride and sadness.

The former captain of the
McCloud
got up and took the podium. “Today we are here to honor the fine men and women of the Navy. But there is one Naval officer who has been wronged by us. This we need to make amends for. Lieutenant Rafael Soto died when his fighter jet collided with Lieutenant Christophe Vargas’s jet on a routine training mission over the Pacific. Unbeknownst to the Navy investigators at the time, the accident was really an attempted murder. Both pilots were sanctioned and had their records marred by a pilot-error ruling. Their records have now been cleared and we are here today to correct our error and honor Lieutenant Rafael Soto.”

The captain finished his speech and left the podium. Chris rose, shook his hand and gave him a sharp salute. When he reached the podium, he looked out over the audience. “I am Christophe Vargas. I’m here today to tell you about my friend and wingman, Rafael Soto. He liked jelly beans and thought that Christmas was the best time of the year, more because of the giving than the receiving. He liked to garden and grow vegetables, saying a little dirt never hurt anyone. I don’t have to tell any of you what it’s like to lose someone who is as close to you as a brother. Some of you have lost a brother, sister, best friend. I carried around a lot of guilt for living when he died. For moving forward with my life. But after I was part of the investigative team to apprehend the person responsible for his death, it’s been alleviated. I can’t go back and change what happened. But I can honor the memory of my friend until the day I die. He was out there defending his country and I was proud to be at his side. Rafael,” Chris said quietly, “I’ll always have your six.”

As Chris spoke, the lump in Sia’s throat got tighter and tighter. Tears gathered in her eyes and she knew at that moment that she had been so wrong, even more than she had on the carrier when she’d tried to catch Chris. She had to talk to him.

He left the podium and sat down. The ceremony came to a close. In the crush of bodies, she was blocked from the stage. She frantically tried to find him, but lost him in the crowd.

Dejected and annoyed, she decided she would go to see Rafael’s plaque. Chris would return to NCIS eventually and she’d go over to his office if she had to.

When she approached, she saw a man in rumpled clothing run his hand over the plaque, his head bowed. Her heart tripped and tears filled her eyes. Chris.

She took a few steps forward, suddenly tongue-tied. It took her a moment to find her voice. “Chris.”

His head jerked up and he spun around. “Sia,” he said, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

She smiled and came to him, afraid that if she touched him, he would disappear. They stood there for a few moments in awkward silence.

She looked up at him, her face carefully blank as she tried to assess the shift of feelings between them. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“You found me.”

“I wanted to thank you for saving my life. If you hadn’t caught me—well, it seems to me that you were there when I needed you. Why is that, Chris? Even after I treated you so badly.”

“You were grieving, Sia.”

“I was, but what I forgot was that you were, too. At the time, when it was ruled an accident, I should have stood by you. I made a terrible mistake pushing you away, blaming you. I just needed my brother’s life to have meant something, and you were part of what destroyed him. What I didn’t realize at the time was that his life did have meaning.”

Chris slipped an arm around her shoulders and eased her against him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. It was all he needed to do and she marveled at his capacity to care. She splayed her hand against his warm chest, right over his heart, hoping against hope that she still held a place there.

“I know you didn’t kill my brother and that you had no control over what happened.”

“No, we know that Maria…”

She covered his mouth with her fingers. “No, Chris, it really doesn’t have anything to do with her. This is between you and me. I have to ask you for your forgiveness for not believing in you, for not trusting you, for pushing you away when you needed me the most.”

For a moment he looked stunned. He just stood there, waiting, staring past her. His chin trembled as he pressed his lips into a thin line. “My forgiveness?” he choked out.

“Yes. And if you can’t, I’ll wait,” she promised. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to wait. I want a future,” she said simply, the wish so precious. “I want to go beyond the past. I want you to go with me.”

“I forgive you.”

“Just like that?” she said, her throat aching with unshed tears.

“Yes, because I already let go,” he said, his voice deep and raw, his eyes trained on Rafael’s plaque. “I refuse to let the past dictate how I will live my future. Not anymore. I forgave myself. So my forgiveness is easy. I never stopped loving you.”

“What?”

“I love you, Sia.”

Sia cupped his face and looked into his eyes. Seeing the truth there made her realize she had been wrong. There was more than hope that they could move on. She gave a shaky sigh of deep relief. “I love you, too. I never stopped, either. You are right. We need to put the past behind us. Move forward into the future. Our future.”

Her arms went around his neck, her heart overflowing. She pressed her cheek against his chest and let go of everything, the past, the pain, the heartache and the terrible loss. She would always miss her brother and her family, but now,
now,
she finally let him go, let them go. Her gaze landed on his plaque and the tears were finally released. As they flowed, he lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss that was both bonding and beginning, promise and fulfillment…and love.

Hand in hand, they walked out of the building. When they hit the street, Chris smiled. “I sure hope you have a hotel room. I just got in from Afghanistan and didn’t have time to check in.”

It was Sia’s turn to smile. She took his hand and this time she hailed a cab.

In her hotel room, she pushed the worn leather jacket off his shoulders, tugged his shirt loose and lifted it over his head. He raised his arms, accommodating her, and soon she had his bare chest at her disposal. To do with what she wanted.

And the hunger to do that was stirring in her blood.

She took it slowly. Sweetly, deliciously slowly.

He’d tasted her, taunted her, teased her, on several occasions. Now he would be at her command.

Her entire world narrowed down to the smooth expanse of honeyed skin wrapped oh-so-tautly across his chest. She dipped her head and drew her tongue slowly from his collarbone down the valley between his pecs, and then teased her way over to his nipple.

He drew in a sharp breath when she flicked her tongue across the sensitive tip. His hands came up to her hair, and she smiled as it came cascading down around her shoulders.

“If you like that move,” he said, his mouth close to her ear, “you’ll love what else I can do.”

She laughed and looked deep into his eyes.

“Ambrosia,” he said, “my Sia,” his voice barely more than a rough whisper.

“Chris,” she said, making his name a vow.