Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart of Stone by Lindsay McKenna

real apology in Dane’s eyes and it shook her. The old Dane York would never have admitted fault or apologized, even if he was wrong. “Leave the door open on your way out, Major York. My people have access to me twenty-four hours a day. When you get a schedule set up, bring it to me and I’ll look it over. My pilots must continue to fly every day, so you’re going to have to work around their duties.”
    “I understand.” Despondency blanketed Dane as he opened the door, turned and walked down the hall. He wanted to say something more to heal the wound he’d just opened up in her. Damn.
    A number of women looked up as he passed by. He saw the quizzical expressions on their faces. Had they heard the free-for-all in Maya’s office? More than likely. This building was not that substantial; was made mostly of corrugated tin and some steel framing to hold it together. Voices would travel well in this complex, he realized glumly.
    Maya sat down dejectedly after York left. She leaned back in her chair, gripping the arms and looking up at the ceiling. Her heart was pounding madly in her chest. She wanted to hate York, but that wasn’t the main emotion she was feeling. A part of her felt sorry for him. And she wanted to cry. Deep down inside her, Maya had been hoping for a truce between them. She wanted peace, not war. Her life was nothing but combat, and she yearned for peace with him.
    Four years ago, Maya had wanted to slug Dane in his arrogant face. Today, just now, she wanted to see some kind of improvement in York’s demeanor. Andto give him credit, he was trying. That little slip about being stuck here wasn’t much, but it had set her off. Judging from the contriteness in his eyes and voice, he was really sorry about it.
    “Maybe—” Maya whispered “—maybe you’ve changed just enough to make this nightmare six weeks tolerable, York. I sure hope so….”

Chapter 5
    M aya couldn’t wait any longer. She dropped the pen on her desk amid a clutter of papers that desperately needed her attention. She had to go down and take a good, close look at the D model Apaches. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she realized it had only been two hours since she’d locked horns with York. Grabbing her black baseball hat off the peg, she settled it on her head and moved out into the hall. Things were curiously quiet. Why? Maya glanced into each office; no one was around. Where was everyone? This was highly unusual.
    On the ground floor, Maya pushed opened the door. To her left, the opening to the cave was filled with brilliant sunlight lancing in from the Eye and above the wall as the sun crept higher in the sky. The new D models and the Blackhawk had been brought into the cave complex, at the opposite end from where maintenance was performed on their Apaches. Movingaround the end of the building, she grinned and halted. Dropping her hands on her hips, Maya chuckled to herself.
    There, surrounding the new helicopters, was nearly the entire squadron. Everyone spoke in excited, animated tones as they looked at the machines, touched them. Her pilots were mingling with the ground crews, and she saw how the new I.P.’s were passionately engaged in conversation, gesturing toward the new D craft, their faces alight with enthusiasm. Some of the worry slid off Maya’s shoulders when she saw that the two I.P.s were like little boys with a new toy—only the new toy was a leaner, meaner version of the A model Apaches Maya and her crew flew daily.
    Her brows fell. Where was York? She searched the crowd for him. Over fifty people were gathered in a large circle around one chopper. One of the I.P.s, the Texan, squatted near the side of the fuselage, gesturing to all the snakelike coils of wire beneath the panels he held up, proudly showing the insides to the rapt crowd of onlookers.
    Maya’s heart thumped hard when she spotted York. Her hands settled on her hips as she lifted her chin and laughed softly. Dane York was on his back, on