Private Maneuvers

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520 Macon GA 31201 Private Maneuvers Copyright © 2008 by Denise A. Agnew ISBN: 1-59998-904-2 Edited by Angela James Cover by Scott Carpenter All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: April 2008 www.samhainpublishing.com

Private Maneuvers Denise A. Agnew

Dedication To all the soldiers, sailors, marines and coast guard of the United States. Thank you for many sacrifices.

To my hubby, Terrance B. Agnew, my own special 350 Bravo, Chief Warrant Officer, retired.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to my husband CW3 Terrance B. Agnew (ret.), CW4 Melvin Albert (ret.), Lise Fuller, Captain Thomas B. Fuller, Jody Allen, E.F. Leddy, MG Spikers, and Mark Pfeiffer for information on Army Special Forces.

Private Maneuvers

Chapter One The second Marisa Clyde saw the soldier she knew he was trouble. He took Marisa’s hand as she stepped off the old tour bus. Huge fingers and a big palm wrapped her much smaller hand. Her body shivered as warmth flickered in her stomach. In fact, her entire body quaked. He looked like rescue. He looked like safety wrapped up in one sexy, strong, powerful package. She could blame it on the events of the last twenty-four hours. Danger and fear could rattle a person. Or just perhaps, it could be this man and the power he emanated. Maybe the long, thick lashes framing the onyx eyes staring down into hers influenced her senses to scatter. She was nuts to go completely ga-ga over the man standing in front of her when she refused to find a military man attractive ever again. Maybe she could blame her reaction to him on the heat wavering upward from the washboard surface of the road and the relentless sun beating down. Or perhaps the humidity level coming from the Mexican jungle all around them had steamed her brains. Of course, the fact that her ribs had taken a bit of beating didn’t help. Every time she breathed, a dull ache radiated outward from her left side. Not what she expected to experience on a vacation, but she’d made it through worse and lived to tell about it. As her Uncle Dexter back in Clarksville, Wyoming would say, the pucker factor for the last day had escalated way off the charts. She had a right to feel disoriented, hungry, and exhausted. A smear on her glasses irritated her, but she didn’t bother to try and clean it. Face it, a smear was so not that important when she’d just survived what would amount in the news to an international incident. Her ribs panged, and she winced.

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“Are you all right, ma’am?” the soldier asked, his deep voice a husky sound that brushed along her senses like a feather tickling all her erogenous zones. She couldn’t answer him. Through her tiredness, her hormones registered that he stood around six three or four, his muscular build apparent through the camo wear. He wore no rank or insignia that could identify him. His military short obsidian hair gleamed with blue highlights under the fierce sun. He topped the charts into unbelievably gorgeous. No. Not exactly. Dark and dangerous, a huge cliché, didn’t explain the unique mix-and-match hardness in his features that added up to one handsome visage. Yet dangerous certainly described his aura, a kick-butt-anddon’t-bother-to-take-names presence. His angular face defied description—his jaw formed a solid frame around his hard mouth. His nose was a smidgen crooked. Those intriguing, mysterious eyes didn’t hide anything. Did he know how his feelings gleamed so starkly in his gaze? Probably not. Right now his eyes narrowed, as if he wanted to read her mind and excavate answers. When she didn’t answer him, his gaze turned dark, serious and concerned. “Ma’am?” “Poor dear is a bit shocky,” Ida Hambly said behind her. “She’s had quite an ordeal.” “I’m fine,” Marisa said. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” “Right. Nothing wrong. You’ve just made it through a bombing, a robbery, and a broken down bus. All in a day’s work for an accountant?” Ida leaned heavily on her cane, and when the soldier saw Ida hesitating on the bottom step of the bus, he released Marisa’s hand and helped the elderly woman down and over to where Marisa stood. “And then the cavalry rides in on white horses and saves our butts. I’d say that’s enough to rattle your sweet young cage.” Marisa smirked. “Ida, your sense of humor kept me sane.” That, and maybe Freddie Bodine. Freddie stood clasped in the arms of her boyfriend, another one of the soldiers who’d come to the rescue. Apparently he’d traveled from the U.S. after putting together this team of army men to look for Freddie when the tour bus went missing and didn’t report back to the hotel.

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Freddie’s head pressed against her boyfriend’s shoulder, and his hand cupped the back of her head. He touched his lips to the top of Freddie’s head in a tender gesture. He looked drained with relief. What would it feel like to have a man love me that much? Ten other soldiers who’d first appeared earlier like ghosts from the jungle entered the bus. People chattered in excited, relieved voices and the soldiers hurried to extract them from the vehicle. Trauma of the last day worked into her sore body. The back of her neck ached, muscles in her lower back protested. She stretched and arched her back, as she sighed. She felt grungy, her long hair frizzing in the humidity, her khaki shorts and plain blue Tshirt rumpled. She regretted the movement as pain arched through her side again. Damn it. “You should have seen how Marisa and Freddie convinced those bastards to take nothing else but the cash,” Ida said to one of the soldiers. “It was truly amazing.” Marisa’s legs started to tremble, and her temples throbbed. As if he had radar for her emotional or physical changes, her soldier’s gaze flicked her way and he frowned as he eyeballed her. He spoke into a satellite phone and ordered another person to bring their transportation. She rubbed the back of her neck and allowed her eyes to slip closed. The soldier’s voice rumbled nearby, and she opened her eyes to find him within her personal space. So close she should have rebelled. She never let men get this close—until now. He gripped Marisa’s upper arm as if he expected her to collapse any minute. She’d never felt this fragile before, hanging by a single thread combined of liberation and leftover fear. “Ma’am—Marisa, would you like some water?” He handed her a small water bottle. It took her a few seconds to respond. She irrationally wanted to tell him to call her Miss Clyde or ma’am because she wanted the distance and formality. Instead she said, “Thank you.” She took the water and slammed back a huge swallow. She knew better than to gulp the lukewarm liquid, but thirst compelled her to slug down half the bottle. Immediately her stomach lurched in protest.

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“Whoa. Slow down,” he said. She glared at him. “I’m thirsty.” “Drink too much and it’ll make you sick.” “I know.” She almost stalked away. Not because she found him repulsive. Nope. She found him way, way too intriguing. She heard the rumble of vehicles and two large vans turned the corner and progressed their way. Tension shot up her back. “There’s our transport,” her soldier said. Good. Lethargy weighed her down, as if she sank into her athletic shoes a few inches, quicksand sucking her into blessed darkness. His voice sounded too far away, and then as her head seemed to float and her legs turned rubbery, she managed to whisper a plea, “Wait…” He moved toward her quickly. “What’s wrong?” “I—I don’t think I can—” Her eyelids fluttered and suddenly his powerful arms encircled her. “Easy. Are you hurt somewhere and just not telling us about it?” Marisa clutched at his shoulders. “My ribs. One of the bandits slung me into a seat.” She touched her glasses, held together in the middle by some tape Ida had found in her voluminous tote bag. “That’s how I broke my glasses.” “Son of a bitch.” Her soldier growled the words under his breath. He lifted her in his arms, and she said, “No. I mean, I’m fine. It’s not that big a deal.” He carried her toward the vans. “Sergeant Clearwater! We need a medic.” Freddie, Ida, and Freddie’s soldier followed, Freddie’s and Ida’s concerned voices echoing in her ears.

*** Marisa awakened to the softness of a warm bed. For a few seconds she couldn’t resurface from her fog and recall where she was. She didn’t know how she’d gotten there.

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In a panic, she opened her eyes and saw a fuzzy world. She could see a man, or what passed for a man, sitting in a chair across the room. Her heart picked up speed immediately, pounding out a fearful tempo. Her glasses. Where the hell were her glasses? She couldn’t see a thing like this. She rolled to her right, hoping someone had left them there. She located her glasses and shoved them on her face. The world became blissfully clear. So did the man, and her fear eased as her breath exited in a rush. She hadn’t expected to see him there, nonetheless. Her room at the Los Diablos Hotel wasn’t exactly five star. Small windows, a slightly musty smell, small double bed, and a bland color scheme of tan and white. Boring and a little disappointing. Just like she’d left it when the bus had left for the ruins twenty miles away. But no. That wasn’t the surprise. The man sitting in the uncomfortable chair which looked almost too small for him, was the biggest surprise. Her soldier. Oh, wow. Slumped and sprawled, with his legs braced wide apart, his arms hanging over the sides of the chair, he looked relaxed. His face told a different story. Still and secret, his rugged countenance managed to convey watchfulness. Ridiculous, of course, but he seemed capable of protecting her even in sleep. His eyes snapped open and she started. Immediately he went from at ease to watchful. He rose and walked toward the bed. He’d changed into a tight white T-shirt and green cargo pants and combat boots. He sat on the edge of the bed. “You feel better?” he asked. “I’m fantastic.” He grinned, and his attractive grin blew her away. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Keeping you safe.” Keeping me safe.

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Hot, unbidden excitement flew up from somewhere inside her and overruled every last shred of common sense she’d learned over the years about soldiers. After Alec she should know better. Macho talk and promises didn’t always follow through. Old pain wended a stinging path through her. Alec would never be macho again, and thinking of him brought equal measures of pain and betrayal leaking to the surface with a drip, drip, drip. “That’s a little old-fashioned, isn’t it?” she asked in defense. She couldn’t let this heady arousal cloud her judgment. Darkness entered his gaze, and he quirked one eyebrow. “Maybe to some. Not to me.” He said it with such conviction she knew trying to convince him otherwise would fall flat. Yet when this man said he planned to keep her safe, she believed it way down in her toes. “Are we still in danger?” she asked. “Not technically. This hotel is out of the main conflict area. Things in Los Diablos are dicey.” “Dicey as in encroaching on our hotel?” His dark gaze flickered. “If the rebels who blew up the museum even thought about coming this way they’d face local police, Federales, and a Special Forces team—not necessarily in that order.” His definitive way of stating their situation sent a tight whirl of butterflies flitting and dancing in her stomach. The idea they teetered on the edge of some sort of war or coup scared the hell out of her. Excitement also entered the equation because this man radiated confidence and enough testosterone to send every female corpuscle in her system on high alert. “And the Mexican government doesn’t have a problem with American Special Forces operating in Mexico?”

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Her challenge didn’t alter his solid, unflinching expression. “We’re not operating here. We happened to be down here on vacation and came across a tourist bus in distress.” She smiled. “Uh-huh.” “We’re getting a transport out of here to Mexico City, then we’ll fly out from the airport.” “We?” “Everyone on the tour bus. Captain Wallace and I are following later on another flight.” She nodded, and then realized she had no idea how long she’d lain here. Soft light filtered through filmy curtains. She sat up slowly, and the blanket fell to her waist. She wore her loose nightshirt, a horrible shade of startling lime she wished she’d never purchased. But…since no one ever saw it…what the hey. “How’s the ribs?” he asked. “Better. Whatever Sgt. Clearwater gave me knocked me straight on my butt after I took it.” She squinted at him and then panicked a little. “Wait. How did I get in here? How did I get into bed—?” “Don’t worry.” His lips quirked. “Freddie and Ida helped you undress. I guess what Clearwater gave you was strong.” “I don’t remember much after he examined me. Things are fuzzy.” “You’ve got bruised ribs, you’re exhausted, and you were dehydrated. Clearwater’s been checking on you.” “And you’ve been in the room how long?” “Since early this morning. Freddie stayed with you part of last night.” “That was…nice. Thank you.” She ruffled a hand through her already mussed hair. “I’m not sure why you guys would do that. I’m fine.” “Clearwater recommended it. And I insisted on it.” Right now he looked warm, compassionate. Nothing like the eagle-eyed, stern warrior. Could he turn it off and on like her fiancé, Alec, had and use it to his advantage?

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God, she wanted nothing to do with his brand of sensuality, with the possibilities inherent in feeling these stirrings of attraction. She realized his eyes weren’t as dark as she thought yesterday. More chocolate flecked with small green striations than onyx. Maybe his eye color changed with his emotions or the prevailing light. Her eyes felt gummy, and she took off her glasses and cleaned them with the edge of the sheet. The middle came apart. The tape job Ida had accomplished yesterday hadn’t lasted. “Damn,” she hissed. “Here.” He held his hand out. “I’ll see what I can do to fix it.” Marisa handed him the glasses and he stood. She quirked a sarcastic smile. “I suppose you have some super soldier glue hidden in your shoe that’ll fix them? Something high tech and guaranteed to get the job done?” He halted halfway to the door. When he turned, those intriguing eyes shone with curiosity and maybe a little anger. “Yeah. I’ll be back in a minute. After I’ve used some of my super-secret-military-application eyeglass repair.” His tone held undeniable derision. As he left, she sank lower in the bed and groaned. Dammit and hell fire, as Ida would say. She’d pushed too far. But she couldn’t pretend she wanted his attention, couldn’t be more than grateful. What did he want from her? The phone by her bed rang, jolting her from contemplation and making her ribs ache. “Hello?” she asked into the clunky black receiver. “Marisa? Thank God,” her Uncle Dexter’s strong voice came over the line. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine.” “I just got a call from someone named Ida Hambly and she explained what happened to your bus. Freddie Bodine’s parents reported the tour was missing and it snowballed from there. I found out and I was frantic.” “They know about the rescue already?” She groaned in dismay. “Did we make the news back there?”

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Uncle Dexter’s tone turned amused. “Yep. The newspaper, the radio stations, you name it. Bannon’s sister April has also spread it around, then Edie Maxwell when she heard from Freddie’s mother.” Marisa sighed. She knew better than to believe the town of Clarksville, Wyoming could keep anything quiet. “So when are you coming home?” he asked. “As soon as I can. When I get the details, I’ll let you know.” “I wish you’d never gone on that damned trip.” Marisa chuckled. “I’m glad I did. I saw some great ruins, and I enjoyed an adventure.” “Right. Enjoyed an adventure. Are you crazy, girl? It was that type of thinking that destroyed your parents.” Irritation roared up inside her. She so wasn’t going to talk about her parents. “There’s someone at the door. It’s probably my soldier.” “Who?” Crap. She was thinking of him that way out loud. Was she nuts? “Uh, I mean, the soldier who watched over me yesterday. He sort of adopted me.” “Oh, yes.” Amusement filled his voice, doing exactly what she’d hoped. “I heard about him.” Before she could respond to his statement, wondering who had told him what about her soldier, someone really knocked on the door. “Gotta go. I’ll call you when I get to the airport in Wyoming.” After she hung up, she slipped out of bed and opened the door. Her soldier stood there, grim faced. He marched right in as she backed up. She closed the door. “You always answer the door like that?” he asked, his gaze cruising over her T-shirt clad frame. Warmth moved from her stomach up her chest and into her face as his eyes smoldered. Damn. This guy actually looked at her like some delectable dessert. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen desire rolled up with annoyance and couldn’t. Alec had never—

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No. Don’t you dare compare him with Alec. Alec was simply…Alec. Before she could answer, he said, “You shouldn’t open the door before you find out who it is.” Irritated, she said, “I know that. I don’t normally. I was on the phone with my uncle and wasn’t thinking. Besides, there’s no peephole. Makes it difficult.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So I’d appreciate if you kept the lectures to a minimum, thank you.” He held her glasses out and she plucked them from his fingers. “Comes with the job.” “Well I’m not a soldier.” His lips quirked. “I know.” “I don’t take orders.” “I get that.” They stood in awkward silence. She plopped her glasses on her nose. The world came into glorious focus. “Ah. Relief.” “How does the temporary fix feel?” “Excellent. You did a great job. Thank you.” “How are you feeling otherwise?” She scraped her hair back from her face. “Amazing. My ribs don’t even ache that much.” “Good. Clearwater will want to examine you later. Make sure you’re ready to travel.” “Believe me, I would have traveled yesterday if he hadn’t knocked me out with that painkiller.” “You needed the rest. Captain Wallace said Miss Bodine was so exhausted she fell asleep in the van on the way over here yesterday.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’d better go.” “Are you leaving the hotel?” She didn’t know why she asked. “We’re taking you to the airport later today. I’ll see you then.”

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She nodded, reassured. “Good.” Good? She didn’t want him to spend any more time around her. She should be fighting off this untamed arousal warming her from the inside out. Guilt threatened. Alec…well, how could she forget him when she couldn’t have imagined even six months ago responding physically to another man this way? She segued in another direction. “You know what? I think I heard someone say your name right before I fell asleep in the van yesterday. But I don’t remember. What is your name?” A brilliant and sincere smile touched his mouth. He put his hand out. “Chief Warrant Officer Jake Sullivan.” His hand felt every bit as deliciously strong and competent as it had yesterday. Her heartbeat quickened as his gentle grip held her prisoner. A vision of his hand coasting over her breast flooded her mind. Oh, no. No. Not happening. “I’m Marisa Clyde,” she said quickly. He nodded. “I know. But it’s nice to have an introduction.” He released her hand and walked over to the bedside table. He snatched the small notepad and pen sitting there. Jake wrote something on the pad and then ripped off the paper and handed it to her. “My cell number. Call me if you need anything.” Surprised, she stared at the paper like an idiot. “I’ll be fine.” “Just the same… And don’t answer the door next time without knowing who it is, okay?” With that he left the room. Mindful of his chastisement, she put the chain on the door. She leaned back against the hard wood and sighed. She’d lied. Her ribs ached far more than she’d said, but she realized if Jake knew about it he’d call Sergeant Clearwater. Jake would hang around, too, and the last thing she needed was a man hovering. Especially one as disturbing as Chief Warrant Officer Jake Sullivan. As Marisa headed to the shower, part of her felt guilty for classifying Jake. She didn’t know much about him.

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Okay, she did. He was protective as hell of women. Especially her. Then again, maybe he acted this way with all women. He was masculine. Um, make that brimming with testosterone. He could be extremely gentle. Last but not least, he made her well aware of herself as a woman. Too aware. She tossed her nightshirt onto the bed and slipped off her panties. She stepped into the bathroom and encountered the mirror above the small pedestal sink. So now she understood why he’d looked her over so thoroughly. Not because she possessed the fragile beauty of a heroine in a romantic suspense novel. There’s no way in hell the way he looked at me had anything to do with sexual attraction. Nope. Her hair, always a bit unruly, tossed about her head in a tangled ebony mass. Cooltoned, her pale skin seemed particularly washed out. She grabbed her facial cleanser and removed old makeup. Water on her face felt refreshing, and she sighed in relief. A small bruise marred her lower jaw. She didn’t remember how she’d gotten that. Maybe when the greasy, short creep named Ramon had tossed her into the seat the day before yesterday. She groaned. She didn’t want to remember that day—at least not for a while. As she stepped into the shower, Marisa allowed the sensual trickle of water and the soothing sounds to cleanse away the bus ordeal. She shoved away the anger. She needed to calm down and relax. She put her head under the water and lathered it with shampoo. Then crazy tears stung her eyes and overflowed whether she wanted them to or not. She didn’t understand where the angst originated. Not really. An ache filled her chest. She put a tight rein on the tears and shoved them down deep where she wouldn’t find them again.

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Chapter Two Clarksville, Wyoming—One week later Jake walked across the semi-empty parking lot alongside 24 San Miguel Street. Gravel crunched under his athletic shoes, mixing with the sound of a cars passing along the busy street. The old brownstone stood against the stark beauty of a bright cerulean summer sky. A cool breeze washed over his T-shirt and jeans. He wished he’d worn shorts. The temperature already headed into the low eighties. He stepped through the service entrance, knowing the front entrance would most likely be locked during non-business hours. The whole time, he wondered if he’d run into Marisa. He hoped to. Since he’d left her at the airport in Mexico, he’d spent the last week craving her. No. More than that. Wanting to drag her against him, kiss her until she moaned, until she clung to him and whimpered. He wanted her to ache as badly as he did, to desire him as much as he wanted her. And how exactly did he think he was going to accomplish that? Jesus, get a grip. She doesn’t even know you. He had it bad. And only one thing would erase her from him. Getting her into bed. “Jake Sullivan?” A grizzled man, with a prospector look to him, stepped out of a doorway not far from the service entrance. Jake quickly took inventory of the shorter man. Well-built, about sixty, the man wore overalls, scuffed boots. Curious blue eyes, intent and missing nothing, looked out from a wrinkled face. His salt and pepper mustache was handlebar style, but his beard was close-cut and well trimmed. A hawkish nose dominated the older man’s face. Jake smiled and held out his hand. “Mr. Clyde?” “You got me.” He shook Jake’s hand firmly. “So you must be Chief Warrant Officer Jake Sullivan. Pleased to meet you. Come into the office.” www.samhainpublishing.com

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“Just call me Jake.” Jake settled into a well-worn metal chair with not much padding left in the seat while Dexter took the bigger throne on the other side of the cluttered desk. The entire office looked as if a bomb had exploded in it with papers scattered over the big antique desk. A coffee mug with “World’s Greatest Uncle” sat on the desk. What the hell were all those file cabinets for if the old guy didn’t use them? Jake winced. So what? The guy had right to keep his office any way he wanted it. Just because you’re a neat freak doesn’t mean he has to be. “It’s great to have you here.” Dexter waved one had across the desk. “Pardon the mess. That’s one reason I need Marisa back here to help me out. I’m happy as hell she’s coming home.” “I’m sure she’ll do a great job for you.” “She’ll get me back on track. It’s about time. The last accountant I had in here…well, it was pretty much a disaster. I didn’t realize it when I hired the lady, but she had some serious issues.” “Issues?” “Mental illness. She ended up freaking out in my office a week after I hired her, crying and screaming about how no one appreciated her. We’re talking rambling and going on in a very odd way. I tried to help her, but she wouldn’t take the advice or the help. I’d suggested an appointment with a medical doctor, but she wouldn’t take it. I had to let her go. I paid her wages right then and there and she left. Haven’t seen her since. Finally figured out that I can’t manage these accounts myself anymore.” Eyes sparkling with mischief, Dexter leaned back in his chair across the desk and linked his hands over his stomach. “I’m not sure how Marisa will react to you being here.” Dexter slouched in his chair. Jake sniffed and relaxed somewhat. “My guess is she won’t like it much. At least at first. Until she sees I’m not a monster.” “Monster? Why would she think that?”

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Jake heard the slightly accusatory tone in Dexter’s voice. He knew where it came from. He probably protected her like a father would a daughter. “Don’t worry. I’m not a felon or a security risk. But she acted…” he shrugged, “…distant while we were in Mexico. As if she wanted to run from me as fast as she could.” Dexter nodded, comprehension clear in his expressive eyes. “Ah. I get it now. That explains why, when I mentioned you once, she stiffened up as if someone had shoved a poker up her back.” Jake winced. “That bad?” “That bad. Her face went concrete. She’s normally friendly. Not over the top outgoing, but fun and approachable.” The picture Dexter painted didn’t compute. If some other strange compulsion hadn’t drawn him to Marisa, if he hadn’t felt something in his gut from the moment he saw her, he wouldn’t be here now. He’d never had time for women who thought no more of him than a dirty soldier they could wipe off their boot. “She wasn’t rude,” Jake said. “I just had this feeling she generally didn’t want much to do with me.” Dexter fiddled with his handlebar mustache. “Hmm. That’s too bad. I don’t understand it.” Then his frown cleared. “Well, maybe I do. But I’m not sure I should talk about it. It’s up to her to explain.” Jake’s curiosity hit a high note, but he didn’t press Dexter for an explanation. Obviously, Dexter wanted to believe Jake hadn’t done something to deserve his niece’s antipathy. “Honestly I couldn’t tell you why she reacted to me that way. I’d like to ask her myself.” Dexter nodded, his scrutiny of Jake thoughtful. “Sometimes women are like that, aren’t they? Damned confounding creatures. My wife, Clarice, died almost twenty years ago. Never married again. Never wanted to. I realized since she was the only woman who ever made much sense to me, I wouldn’t be happy with anyone else.”

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Jake grinned. “Sounds like reasonable logic to me.” “There’s more to why she’s wary of you, I think.” He held his hand up when Jake started to speak. “Like I said, she’ll have to explain that herself.” “Fat chance.” Dexter snorted. “That’s what I like about you already, Jake. You know how to butter up the bar owner. He likes that.” Jake continued to smile when Dexter talked about himself in the third person. “But just because I’m a friendly guy,” Dexter said, “don’t let it confuse you. I’m savvy about everything but keeping my office clean and some of my finances. That’s why I need Marisa. And as Keith said, you’re trustworthy. He says you’re one of the best men on his team.” Jake’s ego beamed at the statement, but he pulled out the modesty. “That’s generous of him.” Dexter leaned forward in his chair and scraped aside a pile of file folders so he could put his elbows on the desk. “Don’t give me that. Keith’s a straight-up fellow. If he says the moon rises and sets on you, then I’d know it’s true.” “That’s an exaggeration.” “Well, okay. But he said plenty of other great things. And with the way you took care of my Marisa, I don’t care if she hates your guts from here to Khartoum. I appreciate what you did for her.” “I didn’t do much. Keith was worried as hell about Freddie and asked for my help.” “Yes, but a whole Special Forces team? That’s incredible.” Jake smiled. “We were on a vacation.” Dexter’s lips twisted into a yeah right expression. “Ahem. Vacation or not, you brought my niece home to me safe and sound. I’ll always be grateful for that.” Jake shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with the praise. Dexter slouched even farther, and soon his head rested on the back of his chair. Jake didn’t follow Dexter’s example. Jake couldn’t relax that much until he had the lay of the land, drew up a plan, and executed it.

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Including his plan of getting Marisa into his bed. “Here’s the deal. Keith said you have thirty days off and you came all the way from Camp Anderson to help me for one month while my usual employee is out for an operation. Forgive me, but I can’t see one damn good reason why a young man like yourself would want to hang out in a bar and act as a bouncer. There’s probably tons of things you could do in a month that would be a hell of a lot more fun.” Disbelief marred Dexter’s expression again. “First you go on a jaunt down to Mexico to save tourists. Now you want to be a bouncer. Don’t you have a life? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll know.” Jake hooked one ankle over his knee. “That’s an easy answer, Mr. Clyde. My career is my life most of the time. I was in a use it or lose it category with my vacation and they basically ordered me to take thirty days.” “Nah, that’s not it. Not all of it. You could’ve gone parasailing or bungee jumping or whatever you thrill-seeker soldiers do.” Fuck. The man was smart. Jake blew out a breath. “Okay. I want to know your niece better. That’s my sole reason for coming up here.” Jake held his breath. Dexter would kick him out the door on his ass right about now. Instead the man grinned widely. “Now that’s what I like. A man who speaks his truth. I knew something happened between you and Marisa, and I hoped it wasn’t bad.” “Because then you’d have to kick my teeth in, right?” Dexter laughed, the sound echoing around the small office. “You got it, Jake. I may not look it, but in my youth I was a fair boxer.” He pointed to the photographs above a credenza on the other side of the room. “As you can see boxing was my life early on. Then I met my wife. She twisted my arm and I realized I wanted to be with her more than having a half-assed boxing career. Anyway, wouldn’t take much to land a good one on your jaw.” Jake didn’t doubt him, even if he owned tricks Dexter wouldn’t have thought about in a million years. He didn’t come here to brag about whether he could fight. He knew what he could do.

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“I’ll be straight up with you, Dexter. When I first saw your niece I was blown away. Gut punched.” Dexter laughed and slouched yet again. Any lower in his chair and he’d disappear. “Good.” Good. Christ, he’d never thought it would be that easy. Dexter lost his noodle-like relaxation and left his chair. He stood and stared out the single window at the brick wall beyond. “There’s another reason I want you here. I’ve got a nice old house on Sunset. A tiny thing, but nice. Marisa insisted on taking one of the apartments upstairs rather than staying with me. Said she wanted time alone to think. Fine, I said. But this is a big building, and I don’t like her alone at night after the bar closes. Sure, she can take care of herself, but I’d feel better if you took the second apartment. Would you keep an eye on her?” Fuck yes, Jake wanted to yell. Nothing would give him a better chance of getting closer to her than by living in the same building. “No problem. You can count on me.” “One other thing,” Dexter said. “I’ve received some damned weird calls the last month. I haven’t told her.” A prickle of awareness, of certainty that he should listen with a close ear, set off alarms in Jake. “Prank calls?” “Threats.” Jake rose from his chair as the hair on the back of his neck prickled. “What kind?” Dexter’s shoulders shifted upward, then down in an expansive shrug. “A muffled voice says that I’ll pay for my sins.” “Any pattern to when you get the calls?” Dexter hooked his thumbs in the overall straps. “None. They come in all times of day. The voice is a whisper, but it sounds like a man’s voice. That’s about all.” Concern built within Jake. “Any idea who it could be?” “Not a clue.”

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Jake nodded, a funny feeling growing in his stomach. “If I had any doubts about working for you, Dexter, that just cleared it right up. I don’t want Marisa alone in this building either.” Dexter turned back to Jake, his expression reflective. “I know the measure of a man not long after I’ve met him, Jake. And you’re a damned good one. Hurt my niece, though, and I’ll have to flatten your face.” Jake ejected a strangled laugh at the other man’s bluntness. “Yes, sir.” “I can’t believe it,” a female voice said from behind Jake. He started and turned. “Marisa,” her uncle said. “How long have you been there?” “Long enough,” she said, hands on hips and anger stitched between her eyebrows. “Long enough to know both of you are treading on dangerous territory. I don’t want or need either one of you to rescue me from imaginary dangers.” Her voice rose enough to show her perturbation. “What’s got into you, Uncle Dexter?” “Nothing more than my concern. What’s so bad about that?” She sighed and didn’t answer. He could see his handiwork on her glasses had held up. The silvery frames couldn’t hide that ocean depth quality in her eyes. Immediately Jake’s mind and body reacted. She wore a blood red sundress with a modest dip to her cleavage, and the skirt swished around her calves. The dress almost appeared too big for her. Her pale skin contrasted with the red material, but damn, it looked good on her. Better than good. The filmy cotton dress didn’t cling, but his imagination ran rampant thinking about those soft, delicious curves hidden beneath. Her black hair swirled around her shoulders in a thick, rich cloud. She wore no makeup, or at least not much that he could see. “Miss Clyde. Good to see you again,” Jake said. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Her rudeness took him off guard. “I was invited. Your uncle wants me to work for him as a bouncer while the regular is gone.” Her pretty lips narrowed in a frown. “You live in Clarksville?”

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“No. I was invited to interview for this job. Keith let me know about it.” “I thought you were in the Army?” She crossed her arms and glared, as if she’d caught him in a heinous lie. “I’m moonlighting while I have a month’s leave.” Her lips pursed for a second, and a wild image filled his mind with flames, like a heat seeking missile. He wanted to sweep her up and start tasting her. Lick her nipples, slip his fingers deep within wet folds and bring her the hottest, hardest orgasm she’d ever experienced. The desire swamped him so fiercely he sucked in a short breath. Jake cleared his throat. “Unless I screwed up this interview, I think I’m starting work here soon.” He cast a glance at Dexter and the older man smiled and nodded. She uttered a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh. “Well, welcome to the club, Chief Sullivan. Could I talk to you in private, Uncle?” Jake didn’t know whether to find gratification that she remembered his rank, or not. Jake moved towards the door as her uncle gave an affirmative. “When do you want me to start, Dexter?” “Tomorrow night when the doors open.” “I’ll be here.” As she shut the door firmly behind him, Jake heard her say to her uncle, “Are you crazy?”

*** Marisa yawned and closed her eyes. God, she wanted to succumb to this sudden, acute exhaustion. But she couldn’t. She walked toward her uncle’s office, ready to start on the paperwork he’d left her. Still, running errands around Clarksville this morning had drained her bizarrely meager physical resources. She couldn’t understand why her body acted like a wet dishrag. She’d slept in. Maybe she needed more rest and relaxation before she started helping her uncle, but she hated to feel lazy. Then again, her night had been filled with weird dreams about her soldier. Perhaps that explained why she felt weary. 24

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Correction. Not her soldier. Simply Chief Warrant Officer Jake Sullivan. Or as his team members called him, “Sully”. Chief Sullivan to her. If she thought of him as Jake or Sully, she found the name too intimate. Then she’d remember those dreams again and again until they overflowed and demanded more attention than she wanted to give. Dreams that edged on the erotic, filled with images of him sprawled, semi-naked, over her bed. Yesterday, when she’d eavesdropped on Uncle Dexter’s conversation with Jake in the office, she couldn’t even feel ashamed of herself for listening. She’d stood in the hallway, her senses spinning when she realized Jake Sullivan sat in her uncle’s office and negotiated taking a job at this bar. No way. No way could Jake be here messing up her life. Delving into her psyche and creating crazy scenes in her dreams. But he had. She settled behind the desk and tried to forget how Jake’s masculine form had dwarfed the chair across from her. His image seemed burned into her mind with laser precision, designed to torture, to seek out all the answers in her mind she didn’t want to give. Growling with frustration, she flipped on her uncle’s computer. Thank goodness he used a computer, kept records and always backed up his files. Morning came and went as she worked on his records. He called around two o’clock to say his golf game had lasted longer than expected. She smiled and returned to work. Good for him. He needed the break. A sharp cracking noise near the back door made her jerk and gasp in fright. Heart pounding, she started to stand. An unaccountable fear rose in the pit of her stomach. Her breath hitched as she muscled around the ridiculous reaction to the innocent crack of expanding or contracting wood. She came around the side of the desk, headed for the door, and ran smack into a large body. She bounced backwards and lost her footing. A squeak left her throat as two powerful arms whipped around her waist. “Whoa,” Jake said as he gathered her close to his chest. “Jake,” she gasped. “Hey. Everything all right?” She breathed out a sigh of relief and clung to his shoulders. “Yes.”

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Time slowed to a crawl as she registered his body tucked from chest to thigh along hers. Solid man didn’t quite describe him—it was an understatement. His eyes went hot and caressing, and desire curled in her stomach. Instead of releasing her, he kept her pressed close. Heat engulfed Marisa. He released her slowly. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or disappointment. Overwhelmed by primitive sensations she couldn’t quite define, she decided retreating might serve her better than standing immobile like an idiot. “What are you doing here so early?” she asked. He stepped farther into the room. “I’m moving into the other apartment next to yours. Remember?” “Oh. Right.” Lame, girl. So lame. Jake crossed his arms, and those biceps bulged way too nicely. She couldn’t help noticing, as much as she’d rather not. Face it, girl, he has something special. Not sure what, but it’s there. So what. She didn’t have to succumb to his charisma. People made choices all the time, and she made one now, to keep herself detached. “Where’s your suitcase?” she asked. He nodded toward his feet. He’d dropped his drab olive duffle on the floor when he’d prevented her from falling. “Everything in here is all I need for a month’s stay.” Her eyebrows went up. “You’re an optimistic guy. You were pretty sure my uncle would offer you this job?” “Yep.” She shifted her gaze to the side, staring at the floor to avoid an intimidating quality in his eyes. “My uncle could have told you no.” “I was pretty sure he wouldn’t.” “You’re a self assured man. My uncle likes that. I suppose you two get along fabulously.” He smiled. “He promised to kick my ass if I didn’t treat you right. But you’ll never have to worry around me. I would never hurt a woman.” “I can tell. You like to protect women.”

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His head tilted to the side. “My father instilled that in me too. I’ve got a large family. I’m the oldest of six kids. I’m the big brother and the rest are all girls.” She smiled. “Wow.” “Wow is an excellent word for it.” Okay, so maybe she’d jumped to a few conclusions about his rescuing personality. He’d grown up surrounded by women, and that often created one of two reactions in a man. Protectiveness or utter contempt for females all together. “Look,” he said, “I’d like to start over.” “With what?” “We got off on the wrong foot somehow. From the day we met I felt a weird…I dunno…tension?” Was that what he called it? Tension. Ha. She turned away, as much to escape how male and delicious he smelled. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” He followed her inside. “I think you do. That first day in Mexico there was a connection between us.” Oh, damn it. She didn’t want him to acknowledge that. Admit it, feel it, and certainly not act on it. Now she understood he’d experienced the same pull toward her, part of her wanted to scamper into the nearest hideaway where he couldn’t locate her. She rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s mighty presumptuous of you, don’t you think? I’m not sure I believe in mind reading.” He shrugged and came in close. Funny thing was, she didn’t move away even though he left scant room between them. “It doesn’t take a mind reader to see that you’re skittish around me. I’d like to know why. Are you scared of me?” “What?” She made a scoffing noise. “Of course not. Why should I be?” “No reason at all. You know I’m in the business of protecting people, not hurting them.” “You’re a soldier. You have to hurt some people some of the time.” He leaned one hand on the back of the chair next to him. “In war. When I went to Mexico with Captain Wallace, we planned a direct action to look for his girlfriend and

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everyone else on your missing tour bus. I did that to help him, and to help you. The only hurting would have happened if you’d been in immediate danger and we had to take on the enemy. And hurt would be a mild word for what we would have done to the assholes who blew up the museum and raided your bus.” Her lips twitched in a half smile at the same time guilt replaced a smidgen of her defensiveness. “I know. I never did thank you, did I?” She placed her glasses on the table in front of her, then stepped nearer to him. Slipping her hand behind his head, she drew him down toward her. She bussed his right cheek with a quick kiss. “Thank you.” As she drew back his eyes narrowed, darkening and heating from within. She didn’t have a chance to move away before his arms slipped around her waist. He tilted his head just right and then his lips molded sensuously to hers. Marisa made a soft, surprised sound in her throat. She could have pulled back. She didn’t. For a moment, as his mouth tasted hers with exquisite delicacy, she thought the kiss would explode into a far hotter encounter. Yet he held her with gentleness she didn’t expect. His fingers splayed over her back, his mouth moving slowly along her lips as she responded. Emotions rose inside Marisa. Surprise not only at her own assertiveness, but his tentative kiss. They’d reversed roles in her mind, and it scared the hell out of her. The tender kiss broke up in a flash. Almost as if it had never happened. Jake stared down at her, his gaze aflame, and then she knew he held back. Oh, yes. He wanted more. So much more. This time his mouth came down on hers with clear hunger, twisting one way and then the other. Her arms slipped around his neck as she abandoned herself to sensations she hadn’t imagined experiencing again. As his lips glided in wonderful, heart-stealing finesse, she trembled. Her mouth clung to his, yet he kept the kiss a bit chaste, a far cry from the furious passion she somehow knew he possessed. Even his hands didn’t wander or caress. She wavered on the edge of a powerful seduction, knowing that if she did one more thing, pushed him too far, he’d show her just how crazy he could make a woman. Instead, she drew back, staring up into his lambent eyes.

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She shook like a leaf, and the power of his embrace stunned her into silence. Good Lord. She’d never, never melted into a man’s arms like that. Never experienced a kiss that awe-inspiring. His arms immediately slipped from around her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She grabbed her glasses, put them on, and retreated to behind her uncle’s desk. “I kissed you.” He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. “On the cheek. I took it further the second time. And the third time.” She smirked. “Okay, so we’re both guilty.” He turned and started out the doorway. “It won’t happen again.” Disappointment wended an inevitable path through her. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell my uncle.” He laughed. “That’s probably a good thing. Remember, he can kick my ass.” With that, he disappeared down the hallway and a few moments later she heard the rattling of keys as he entered his new apartment. She groaned softly and flopped into her uncle’s chair. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. God. What was I thinking?

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Chapter Three Marisa yawned and stretched as she headed to the basement, water bottle and romance novel in hand. She wanted a strenuous workout and something to destroy this precarious imagination. She could walk the treadmill and read at the same time. Reading took the reality out of panting breath from exertion. Amazing how much exercise she could accomplish while reading. And boy did she need the exercise. This morning she’d awakened without a fresh thought in her head. She felt as if a mop had sloshed water through her brain, attempting to clear away cobwebs and accomplishing nothing more than a soggy mess. She blamed it on another damned dream. Two dreams, actually. First, she’d dreamed that a dark figure chased her around the bus, and as she ran down the aisle between the seats the bus just got longer and longer and she couldn’t escape. Though she couldn’t see him, somehow she knew the bastard chasing her was Ramon. It chilled her until she woke up shaking. Then she’d had a totally different dream, this one about Jake making love to her. At least she thought it was Jake, since she couldn’t see his face either. But she knew his embrace, the way his arms held her and the strength that made her feel so damned safe. God, daydreaming and obsessing about Jake had wrecked her composure and turned her into a muddled woman she didn’t want to be. Thinking too much about his touch, the silky, wonderful heat of his thick cock pushing deep into her body…oh, fuck. The dream was all too much. Too hot. Too stingingly real. She shrugged off the mind games her dreams had played with her. She’d awakened exhausted and aroused. She’d wished for Jake there to help her bleed off the sexual pressure. The basement door creaked as she opened it, and immediately the clank of exercise equipment stopped her in her tracks just inside the door. She hadn’t expected Jake to work out down here—but obviously her uncle had given him permission. Clarksville had 30

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only a couple of gyms, but she didn’t suppose Jake would want to travel all the way across town when he could take a few steps downstairs and enjoy the benefits of sweat so nearby. She couldn’t expect him to venture blocks for exercise when she certainly didn’t. Still, she resented his presence. She’d gotten so used to heading in here every morning for the last week to find endorphin bliss. Nothing and no one got in her way, and she found contentment in that. But now he was here, and his presence assured she’d be aware of him as a man rather than a co-worker—she wanted to be sloppy in her baggy gray sweat pants, her hair scraped back into an uncouth ponytail and her T-shirt two sizes too large. And God, she really did need to get her glasses fixed. Hell, no. He’d be here to judge her, and she really, really shouldn’t give a damn. Marisa Clyde didn’t primp for any man. Face up to it or forget it, Marisa. You’re a mess and you don’t give a damn. She tried a grin but it didn’t surface, drowned beneath the weight of what happened in her dreams last night. Without a doubt, her dream about Jake showed her what she longed for, or they showed her what she feared. Damned if she could guess which one. Still, she didn’t want to see him. As she stood like a dimwit in the doorway, she blew out a breath. Good thing he couldn’t see her from this angle. “Hello?” his deep voice asked. Damn. The door creaked way too much. Or he had some super sensitive Special Forces trained ears. “It’s Marisa,” she said, aware how bored she sounded. That’s the ticket. Cultivate inane and boring. He’ll regret crawling into my dreams last night. “Hey, come on in.” She wrinkled her nose. As if she wouldn’t come in. This was her uncle’s establishment. Not Jake’s. Damn him for managing to own all the space he stood within, for taking her air. From the moment Jake walked in Dexter’s he’d exuded command and an air of expectancy. That, too, made her edgy.

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She ventured down the hallway, around the corner, and straight into the doorway leading to the workout room. Jake sat on a weight lifting bench, and the sight of him wearing nothing but grey sweat workout shorts and athletic shoes made her grind to a halt. Every time she saw him, it resulted in the same manic reaction—she wanted him, plain and simple. As he pushed up the weight bar, time slowed down. She saw everything about him and her body heated. His pecs clenched, his washboard stomach muscles tightened, his biceps delineated as his hands tightened on the bar and forced the weight upward and into submission. Sweat beaded on the hair that sprinkled enticingly over his chest and down until it disappeared into his waistband. Her gaze followed the forbidden path, examining him in a rough, appreciative fashion. Concentration turned his normally hard face into a flexible, tortured determination. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. Good Lord. When this man worked out, he worked out. With a groan he allowed the weight bar to glide back into place. This was why he was so delicious. He worked for it. No man deserved to possess that many hormones. “Hey, Marisa. How’s it going?” He reached for a towel he’d thrown at the foot of the weight bench. As he wiped at his face and neck, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He looked up again. “You okay?” “Um, yeah. I just didn’t expect to see you down here.” One of his eyebrows twitched. “Dexter gave me permission. Gotta keep in shape. Just because I’m on vacation doesn’t mean there’s room to slack.” “I see that.” Was it hot in here? Then her brains left the building as she pulled her sweatshirt off with one slow slide. She tossed it onto the arm of the treadmill. His gaze latched onto her exercise bra and caressed her torso with heated male appreciation. “Good muscle definition,” he said as she strode to the treadmill. His voice held a sexy, smoldering quality. “Thanks.” Heat flushed her face, then rushed downward to bead her nipples. “Flattery will get you nowhere. I know I have a long way to get in shape.”

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He snorted. “Yeah? What I see right now looks damned right perfect.” More heat flooded her body, shooting pinwheels of unrepentant arousal dancing through her breasts, then lingering between her legs. The man could turn her on faster than anyone ever had. Alec included. Desire resurrected so fast she reeled from chaotic emotion. Damn. She took a deep breath and didn’t look at him. After all, that’s part of the reason she found herself in this sexually frustrating pickle in the first place. As she paced slowly on the treadmill, he stood and walked toward her. Oh, please. Don’t come any closer. I might implode right here. He hooked the towel around his neck and held on to both ends. “We need to talk about a few things.” Marisa almost tripped. “What?” “You should be more careful.” With double meaning, she grinned sardonically and said, “Oh believe me, I’m careful.” “That’s not what it looked like last night while you were walking in the parking lot that late.” She grabbed her water bottle from the slot on the machine and took a long swallow. After she’d gulped the cold water, she found her voice. “What are you talking about, Jake?” “I saw you walking in the parking lot alone last night. Hell, even if you weren’t getting those calls, it isn’t that safe for a woman to walk through a dark parking lot by herself.” “It’s not dark. There’s a light back there. And Freddie was with me.” She glared at him. “Were you spying on me?” “I happened to look out the kitchen window. I saw you walking by. I didn’t see Freddie.” Resentment rose up. She clicked off the treadmill, mad that he’d interrupted her enjoyment of torturous exercise. She stepped off the exercise equipment and found

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herself planted right next to him. “Honestly, Jake, I don’t understand this. Why the concern?” His expression didn’t soften, his eyes dark with intent, driven to make a point. “Like I said, it’s dangerous.” “Give me a break. Are you kidding me? Excuse me, Chief Sullivan, but since when are you my daddy? As little kids like to say, you aren’t the boss of me.” He cupped her face for a second, his thumb brushing over her cheek in a warm caress filled with gentleness. “Look, I’m not trying to boss you around. With the calls…hell, it just scared me when I thought you were in the parking lot by yourself. I was worried about you. I’m sorry I came on strong.” Her ire throttled back. She drew in a deep breath and enjoyed his touch. Her skin tingled when his warm, slightly callused skin brushed over her cheek again. Then he released her. She reached for the squeeze bottle of water and sucked down a good-sized gulp to avoid saying anything. As if she could think of anything coherent to say. One corner of his mouth turned up in a rueful attempt at a grin. “Forgive me?” “I don’t know if I should.” She planted the water bottle back in the cup holder on the treadmill. She was aware of her breasts heaving up and down with each breath, her bare midriff touched by cool air. He nodded, his eyes narrowed in speculation. “Okay. Don’t forgive me. But tell me one thing.” “What?” “Why are you nervous around me? What have I done?” Alarm streaked through her. She hadn’t expected this question. Jake was far too good at ferreting out the truth. “I’m not nervous. It’s your imagination.” He shook his head and gripped the ends of the towel hanging around his neck. “You’ve already said you’re not afraid of me, but then it has to be something else.” “Nope.”

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Her clipped answer didn’t stop him. He edged closer. “Prove it, then.” “What?” She made a scoffing sound. “I don’t have to prove anything. You’re nuts, Chief.” “This isn’t my imagination, Marisa. You’re as jumpy as a cat on speed.” She snorted softly. “Now that’s an image. Thanks a lot. I realize my hair has a tendency to look like I’ve stuck my finger in a light socket sometimes but—” “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” “All right, I guess I am a bit jumpy. I think it’s because of Ramon.” His eyes narrowed. “Who?” “The head creep who robbed our bus in Mexico.” “Damn,” he said softly. “You said someone threw you into a seat. That’s the asshole you’re talking about?” “Yeah. He…he was verbally abusive. He called me a whore and a…cunt, and a few other choice words. That’s when he threw me into the seat. He pawed my breasts.” “Oh, shit.” Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck.” She shivered. “Exactly. I thought he was going to do something else…something worse. At one point he took me off the bus, stuck a knife under my chin and said he was going to slit my throat.” Jake scrubbed his hand over his chin. “Ah, Jesus.” She swallowed hard. “When I said I’d cooperate…when I said I wouldn’t cause any trouble he backed off some.” “Do you know why he singled you out to threaten your life?” She tossed him a small grin. “Probably because when he pawed my breast, I kneed him in the nuts.” Jake smiled widely. “Good for you.” He stepped closer, one hand coming up to press her shoulder. As if he realized his intensity might frighten her, his eyes softened. “If I could have gotten a hold of that bastard, I would have…” He smiled grimly. “You don’t want to know what I would have done. I’m sorry you had to go through that. But you know I’d never hurt you, right? I’d never touch you in any way you didn’t want.”

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She nodded, knowing full well he’d guard her with his life. It was a surreal, gratifying sensation knowing a man would put himself on the line for her like that. His head lowered, coming closer to her, and she sucked in a breath. His scent, despite the exercise, was still man fresh. Fresh and masculine enough to send a pulsating awareness into her belly. “There it is,” he said. “What?” Marisa asked, daring him as her eyes locked with his. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then back up to look deeply into hers. “That little hitch of breath. As if being this close to me does something to you. As long as it’s not fear. God, please don’t let it be fear.” Her lips parted, and although she considered moving away, she didn’t. “You don’t do anything to me, Jake.” A wild idea came to mind. “I can kiss you and move away without anything happening. I’ll prove it.” She slipped her hand behind his neck and brought him down to her. His mouth covered hers, settling with gentle, probing attention. Warm, soft, exploratory, his kiss tasted without venturing too deep and shattering her sense of control. A muffled moan left her throat, and she steeled against his delicious, clean taste and all the nerve endings tingling in response. Before she knew it, his kiss grew deeper, but not too intimate. Her hands landed on his chest. His bare muscles moved under her touch, the crisp feeling of the hair over his chest adding erotic sensation. Before she could battle back the desire, her lips responded and Marisa kissed him back. Her lips parted, and with one delicious thrust, his tongue plunged inside. He retreated almost at once, and the teasing sent pinwheels of excitement dancing through her stomach, hardening her nipples into tight peaks that wanted his touch. She wanted his tongue in her mouth again. His tongue on her nipples. Between her legs. With a gasp, she pulled back and took a step away. Her breath came hard and so did his, but she never expected to see the surprised, startled expression lighting his eyes. His fists balled at his side.

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“Is that why you’re nervous? Because of what happened to you on the bus?” he asked. “Or because you’re attracted to me?” “Jake Sullivan, you could learn a little subtlety.” “I thought I was being subtle.” She sniffed. “I’m not nervous and I’m not…” Attracted. Oh, she was way beyond attracted. But she’d be damned if she’d let him know that. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do. Don’t presume anything.” Her composure rattled, she took her water bottle, snatched her T-shirt and left. When she closed the basement door, she made certain she stomped up the stairs.

*** The steady hum of voices rose from the bar below Marisa’s apartment, and she rolled over onto her right side. She’d fallen into bed at nine o’clock, exhausted. It didn’t make sense that she’d awakened now. Though she’d slept for an hour, the drone of voices now kept her awake, where before it acted as soothing white noise. She rolled over onto her back and stared at her surroundings, visible under the silver light of the full moon. Air conditioning hummed on, and she decided it had become too cool in the bedroom. She left the bed and trailed across the hardwood floor to reach the thermostat. She’d just turned it down when her phone rang. She almost jumped completely out of her skin. Fear froze her solid for a few seconds. Only her parents and a couple of friends had the number. The clock read eleven o’clock. She dashed to the bedside table and grabbed the phone. She flipped on the small stained-glass lamp. “Hello?” When no one answered, she inquired louder. “Hello?” “You’re not safe. I know where you are,” the low, husky voice said. It sounded muffled and hoarse, as if trying to disguise its real sound. The connection went dead. She held the phone to her ear longer than necessary. A solid shiver wracked her body as apprehension made her look around the semi-dark room.

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She put down the phone and stared at the receiver. Weird. Feeling out of sorts and jumpy, sleep entirely banished, she slipped into jeans and a T-shirt that advertised a resort she’d been to once in Colorado. After putting on her athletic shoes and brushing her hair, she left her apartment. As she traversed the semi-dark hallway, she passed by Jake’s apartment. Of course, he’d be downstairs in the tavern. She didn’t relish the idea of seeing him, really, but at the same time, she wanted his presence as a comfort. She wanted the noise, the sound of people surrounding her. She didn’t want to be alone with that hoarse, dangerous voice. “Damn it,” she said. Once she stepped through the entranceway downstairs, the noise increased ten-fold. Even at eleven o’clock on a weeknight, her uncle’s pub managed a brisk business. Round tables scattered here and there seated groups of six to eight, while others seated far less. Liquor was flowing and would be until midnight. Dexter didn’t close the bar until one o’clock, per city ordinance, but he liked to wean people off the booze earlier in the evening. A jukebox played an old REO Speedwagon tune, and a burst of hearty laughter echoed across the room. She entered the bar without many people noticing her, thank goodness. She hadn’t come here to socialize so much as feel the comfort of safety in numbers. How stupid. I was safe upstairs. Whoever is making prank calls just wants to scare me. Fuck it. It had worked. Still, she enjoyed the illusion of safety with the murmur of steady conversation lulling her into a sense of security. She perused the interior, loving the way her uncle had transformed the old building in the last few years. He’d taken it from a chrome and glass monstrosity to a rebirth of Victorian ambiance. With lovely touches of Tiffany here and there, portraits of Victorian men, women and children, and cozy dark booths, Dexter’s now had a calmness to it that lasted through loud conversations and the normal clink and clank of human activity. Until she’d returned last week, she’d forgot how much she’d missed it.

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She spied Jake leaning back against one wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looked relaxed yet she knew he could spring into action on a moment’s notice. Every line of his body spelled coiled snake, ready to strike when the time came. And it would. She sidled up to the bar where a few stools stayed unoccupied. “Rudy.” “Hey, peaches,” the bartender said, his grin so wide and happy-go-lucky it acted as a pick me up. “What’s shakin’?” Rudy Donatella, a ruddy-faced Italian with a huge nose and big ears, had worked this bar since her uncle opened it. She counted him as an uncle too. She sighed. “Hit me with glass of whiskey, will you? I need a sedative.” “Can’t sleep?” “Some jerk called and woke me up.” He leaned on the bar. “Who?” “Don’t know. Probably a teenage prank.” “Probably.” He went off to get her whiskey and take care of other orders. Two cocktail waitresses, Margaret and Em, did a steady business serving customers snacks and drinks. The pub didn’t serve complicated food. Agnes in the kitchen whipped up sandwiches and salads with ease. Minutes slid by as Marisa sipped her drink and observed the hustle and bustle. Either the whiskey or the company settled her rattled nerves. Once she caught Jake’s eye. He smiled and nodded, and she summoned a returning grin and gestured at him with her glass. Finally the midnight hour came, and she polished off the small trickle in her glass. It normally took her hours to polish off a whiskey. Despite the late hour and knowing she’d have to retreat to her apartment, she absorbed the sights and sounds. The crowd had thinned considerably when Mike Dumas stepped up and flopped onto the stool beside her. Oh, great. Just what she needed. He carried his plastic GQ looks to the extreme, his attitude that every woman should find his shoulder length wheat blond hair and classic features appealing. Somehow, she didn’t. “Hi there. Long time no see, Marisa. How are ya?” Though he had a deep voice, it didn’t carry a candle to the velvet huskiness in Jake’s tone.

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“I’m fine. And you?” “I saw you and couldn’t give up the chance to say welcome home.” His thigh bumped hers, and she flinched. “Thanks. It’s temporary.” She didn’t want him getting any ideas. “Too bad.” His bottle green eyes gleamed in the subdued lighting. Physically he was undeniably attractive, but his personality left her heart cold. “Every time I think we could get to know each other, you run out on me.” She sighed and stared into the bottom of her empty glass. “I’m not your type, Mike, and you know it.” He slipped his arm around her and squeezed. “How do you know unless you try me on for size?” Try him on for size. Not give him a chance. She winced. Yuck. “I don’t think so, Mike.” “I might be a perfect fit for you.” He winked, and she felt sticky, touched by something nasty. His arm tightened, and she’d had enough. She looked him straight in the eye and kept her face deadpan. “See, here’s the thing, Mike. I didn’t think you’d be big enough.” Instantly his cheeks went red, and his mouth curled into the ugly derision she expected. His arm slipped away from her back. “Why you—” “Problem here?” a deep, concerned voice said behind them. Mike glanced around, a sneer on his lips. “Beat it, cowboy. I’m talking to the lady.” “I don’t think so. Everything all right, Marisa?” She turned her attention toward Jake, who stood stalwart behind them. “I’m fine, Jake. Thanks. I think Mr. Dumas was just leaving.” Mike slugged back the remainder of his beer, plunked it on the counter in front of him, and left the stool. He glared at her as he turned away. He looked like he wanted to say something scathing but didn’t. Marisa guessed if Jake’s presence hadn’t curtailed him, he would have spewed his usual venom. “Who is that asshole?” Jake asked his gaze hard and watchful as the man left.

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“Mike Dumas. A sometimes regular customer. Depends on if his girlfriend is happy with him. If she is, he stays away. If not…” She shrugged. “I get the picture.” “By the way, I didn’t need your help. I was handling him perfectly fine.” Jake’s grin was wide and attractive. “Yeah, I got that. I heard what you said. Way to insult a man’s masculinity.” Before she could stop, her gaze flicked down to the front of Jake’s jeans and landed on his cock. Her face flamed. When her gaze flicked back to Jake, a knowing grin spread over his lips. Oh, shit. How could she have done that? Now he knew she wondered about his package. Without another word, he turned and left. Watching Jake in action intrigued her far more than it should, but Marisa couldn’t stop herself.

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Chapter Four Marisa kept her place at the bar, drinking water. Several people she hadn’t seen in years strolled by, and her conversations with them dug into old times. She saw Eve Carmichael and her husband Sean O’Callahan. Her uncle had introduced her to Eve one evening in the tavern. She quickly learned that Sean was being sent back to Iraq soon. As a reservist, he wasn’t necessarily immune from multiple deployments to the hot zone. In fact, Eve and Sean had tied the knot quickly in a civil ceremony not long ago before he could be sent to Iraq again. Marisa didn’t talk to them too long. After all, she didn’t need more reminders of her own past, of what she’d experienced with Alec. Or that Jake could be sent to Iraq, and she could face a brand new heartache. Wait. She didn’t need to worry. Sure, she liked Jake. But she didn’t have a connection with him anything like what she’d experienced with Alec. End of story. Soon her uncle closed up shop with Jake’s help and hers. Uncle Dexter left it to them to extinguish the lights downstairs and was soon off to his own house. “I’ll turn off the lights,” she said to Jake as she sipped a glass of water and sat in a booth. “I’m staying down here for a bit. I need to wind down.” He didn’t ask if she’d mind his company—he simply slid into the booth next to her. Not across from her. Right next to her. Great. “Can we talk?” he asked. “About what?” “Earlier today. In the basement. It won’t happen again. Unless you want it to.” She inhaled slowly and deeply, her mind frazzled by the implication. “You’re saying you’d like it to happen again?” He leaned on the table. He picked up a plain, cheap glass saltshaker and examined it, then put it down. “Yeah. I sure would.” 42

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Heat boiled up low in her body at his admission. “There’s only one problem with it. I’m not going any further until I understand you better,” he said. Wow. The guy not only wanted to talk, he wanted to understand her. Not something she’d encountered with the average guy trying to get in her pants. Not at all. She didn’t know whether to be excited or alarmed. Jake pinned her with an inquisitive stare. “Tell me what I can do to make you comfortable around me.” “I’m not sure you can. Look, it has nothing to do with you.” Liar, liar. “If I’m working here for a month it sure as hell effects my environment. In my job with the Army I can’t afford any screw ups. What I do requires discipline and hard work. I approach everything that way. I need this environment to work for me now.” “You never relax.” She smiled reluctantly. “You’re like a coiled spring. I’m not sure anyone could be truly at ease when you’re prowling.” One of his eyebrows went up. “Prowling? That’s a dramatic word, isn’t it? I don’t prowl.” She didn’t usually enjoy goading a man, but something within her responded to him this way. “Oh yes, you do. You’re very physical. I suppose women respond to it all the time. Surely that doesn’t surprise you.” “I’ve been so damned busy over the last few years, I haven’t noticed.” “Now who is holding back? If the playing field is going to be level, then you have to tell me more about your relationships.” To her surprise, he complied. “Okay, there were two women in the last several years. One of them wrote me a Dear John letter the last time I was on a mission. Got home and read the note—she wanted nothing more to do with me. That happened three years ago. I didn’t even know anything was wrong.” Typical man, her biased mind wanted to say. Yet nothing about Jake screamed ordinary.

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“Then there was the ultimate Dear John letter ten years ago. I was married five years, got into Special Forces, and my wife left me while I was on a mission.” When she stayed silent, a bit shocked he’d revealed that much to her, he said, “Too much information? I wanted you to understand I’ve been through the relationship wars a few times myself. I understand.” He’d managed to intrigue her when she didn’t want to be. I’m insane. Insane. “Okay, that was fair. What do you do to relax? Take on odd jobs where you have to keep the unruly in line?” He blinked, his mouth opened, and he flicked a glance at her parted lips. “I read a lot. Fiction and nonfiction. I work out. Have cookouts for friends.” He tilted his gaze upwards for a second, perhaps thinking intently. “I like archery, and when I’m home I try to do as much of it as possible.” “That’s not something you hear people talk about often. Are you good at it?” “Reasonably. I use a traditional bow. Old school.” She smiled, and his answering grin sent heat blossoming inside her stomach and flooding lower. Oh, she’d lost it. Lost her immediate battle to ignore him on every level other than professional. “I also like to practice my proficiency with the weapons we use with our team.” When she didn’t press him for more answers, he asked, “Do you have something against the Army?” “What if I say yes?” “I’d live with it. And it would explain a hell of a lot as to why you’re as jumpy around me.” She realized their heads were way too close together, as if he’d narrowed the distance between them millimeter by millimeter until he’d gained ground. Typical military approach. See the hill take the hill. She inhaled slowly, a dangerous and heady craving stealing up inside. “I have a history with soldiers,” Marisa said. “What do you mean?”

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“You want the unvarnished truth?” “Of course.” “My fiancé, Alec Fletcher, was killed in Iraq three years ago. Three days after he arrived there.” Her confession had the desired effect. He drew back slightly, his eyes hardening. “God, I’m sorry.” Then he did something she never expected. He cupped her cheek for a moment in a tender touch that caused tears to surge into her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” His touch disappeared as fast as it came. They sat like that, trapped in a cocoon of her sorrow, a sharp and serrated edge she’d never quite relinquished in her heart. “Thank you. So you can see I know a bit about the American soldier. Far more than I ever want to know again.” He nodded, understanding now lighting his darkly intense eyes. “I know it’s personal, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here to listen.” She didn’t expect that. Silence enveloped them. “Tell me something else about you,” he said after awhile. Another unexpected request. The man was full of surprises. “Like what?” “Anything.” She took a deep breath. She pointed to the scar on her face, right along her jawline. Most of the time people couldn’t see it—the right application of makeup and time had faded the once dramatic mark. “I got this scar from an accident when I was fifteen. In Peru.” She pointed to the more noticeable scar on the inside of her left forearm. “My parents and I were in a car wreck there after we had a trip down the Amazon.” “The Amazon?” “My father was a biologist and my mother a zoologist.” “Were?” “Oh, they’re not dead.” She swallowed hard. “They’re disgraced.” His eyes widened, and she took some gratification in realizing she’d shocked him. Or at the least, surprised Jake. She had a feeling it took a lot to throw him off track,

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something the equivalent of an emotional grenade perhaps. His very toughness challenged her in a way she didn’t understand, but wanted to decipher with every fiber in her being. And wanting this also disturbed her way down where it counted, a fundamental acknowledgment where she surrendered all sense of direction. He folded his hands, almost like he planned to pray for her. “Disgraced?” She hadn’t told Alec about her parents until she’d known him a month, but here she told Jake after short acquaintance. It seemed natural, as if he should know and she could trust him not to paint her with a stereotypical brush. Marisa took a steadying breath. “It was about fifteen years ago. They made false claims about ecological and biological things they discovered in the Amazon. They love nature, of course, and they were so disturbed by what they saw…destruction of the rainforest…they flipped out and went too far.” She paused and took a measure of Jake’s reaction to this news. His brow creased, his concentration genuine. She continued. “Obviously, this didn’t go over well and they lost their jobs with their foundation.” He leaned back in the booth, his sudden relaxation in direct contrast to earlier tension. “I can understand their desperation. Heavy emotion can make people do rash things. When they want something so much they’ll do anything to obtain it. Your parents wanted to save an ecosystem. Good intentions, bad way to show it.” An odd delight filled her. She couldn’t believe he was being this easy about what she’d told him. “You’re very understanding. Even Alec condemned my parents.” “Your fiancé?” “Yes.” “I don’t know all the details, and I don’t know your parents personally. It’s hard for me to judge.” “That’s the interesting thing. Most people do judge.” She continued where he left off, touching the saltshaker, her finger curving over and around the smooth glass lines. “A lot of people back away from me when they hear what my parents did. As if their duplicity directly correlates to me. As if I would be just as dishonest.” She pushed the saltshaker back to the middle of the table. “They don’t understand that what my parents

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did has made me scrupulously honest. I abhor anything not on the up and up. I’ve had to learn that being honest with people and telling them about my parents might result in a rough experience.” He gave her an understanding smile. “I’m not most people. Anyone who’d treat you that way because of your parents is just plain stupid.” She smiled at his bluntness. “People are people. They do a lot of dumb things.” As he watched her, his expressive eyes showed total concentration on their discussion. She appreciated that more than she could say. Alec had often drifted when she became emotional about what she discussed. “That’s a hard thing to take when you’re a teenager,” he said. “No kidding. When I went to high school that fall, people had already heard about my parents. By then I’d already lost a few friends—people I thought would support me. No deal. Their parents didn’t want them under my influence. That next year was…difficult.” “You went to school here in Clarksville?” “Yes.” Understanding filled his expression. “You’re brave to come back. Are some of the people who gave you a hard time still here in town?” “I don’t know, and I don’t much care.” His lips curled upward. “Good. What’s that old saying? Don’t let the bastards get you down?” “That’s the one. It became my motto in life.” Jake’s eyes filled with honest compassion for what had happened. “It must have felt like a lifetime would go by before it all blew over.” “Gradually, people went on to other scandals. They didn’t discuss my family as much, but we were still shunned. My parents moved to Florida after I graduated from high school. I’ve wondered more than once if I’d moved to Florida earlier—moved anywhere away from Clarksville—if maybe I could have enjoyed my high school years more.” She smirked. “Or maybe I would have experienced other teen angst.”

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“It’s something we all go through, but it sounds like you had a double dose of the nasty stuff.” She nodded, then brought her water to her lips for a long swallow. The ice water bathed her aching throat—emotions from long ago clogged and choked her. She shoved them back in the past where they belonged. “Hey, this isn’t a poor-me discussion. I’m sorry,” she said. “Don’t be sorry. I want to hear more.” She shook her head. “I got over it.” “Did you? Everyone has baggage. No one escapes through life without it, I don’t care what they say.” “I’m not telling any more baggage unless you confess some of yours.” She injected a challenging tone. “You sure you want to hear it?” “Why not? If this is confession one-oh-one, I’m still awake.” Jake put his hands up in surrender. “As I mentioned before, I’m big brother to Sarah, Stacey, Flora, Alice, and Leanne. My parents are retired and live in a cabin near Estes Park, Colorado.” “Oh, I love Estes Park.” “So do I. I go there as often as I can. Which hasn’t been much in the last few years. Not as much as I’d like.” “But you said you get to see your sisters.” “Fairly often. They’ve got pretty crazy careers some of them, but we try to get together for holidays and during the summer. It doesn’t work all the time, but we do our best. Sarah is in the Army and Stacey is in the Navy. Both fly helicopters.” She beamed at him. “That’s fantastic. So the military is heavy duty in your family.” “Pretty much. My father served in Vietnam and so did my mother. She was an Army nurse.” “Did they meet during the war?” “Not until after.”

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“They must have stories to tell.” He gazed at the table, then back up at her. “They don’t talk about the war much. Not even when they’re asked. My mother has wrestled with post traumatic stress disorder for years.” Marisa believed she understood. She looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve felt strange since we got back from Mexico.” “Strange? As in bad dreams?” “A couple. Nothing terribly dramatic.” She frowned, hoping that he wouldn’t find her confession evidence she was a wimp. “Things just startle me more than they should.” “That’s natural.” He put his hand over her forearm and squeezed gently before releasing her. “You haven’t talked much about what happened in Mexico, have you? To anyone? If you need me, I can help.” “No.” She didn’t know if she wanted to bring out what happened, the things that weren’t obvious, into the open. “But how could you help? It’s something I can clear up on my own.” “You’re sure about that?” Conviction ran through her. “Yes.” He looked thoughtful and doubtful at the same time. “I had a mission a few years back that was pretty damned hairy. Left me feeling too edgy for a while. I saw a professional right away and after working with him, I felt much better.” His eyes assessed her without judgment, and right in that moment she believed she could tell him more about what happened during the twenty-four hours of hell in Mexico. She sighed and leaned back into the booth, resting her head on the cushioning and closing her eyes. “I sometimes kick myself over the whole Mexico trip thing.” “Why?” She kept her eyes closed, and a nasty reminder of the bad ass Ramon popped into her head. “Because I didn’t pay attention when I got on the bus the first time. I didn’t notice there was no radio.”

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“Don’t beat yourself up. Few people would have noticed that. Besides, you’d think they’d have cell phones. They did it on the cheap.” She groaned. “That’s for sure.” She shivered and opened her eyes. “I’d rather talk more about your family.” His mouth tilted up on one side in a wry expression. “Okay, what do you want to know?” “More about your sisters.” Jake scrubbed one hand across his jaw. “Flora is married and has two kids and is a stay at home mom. Alice is a professional photographer and she’s engaged. I’m heading out for her wedding in September. Leanne is busy getting her Bachelors in Nursing.” She reached for her water and finished it off. “Your two sisters who fly helicopters aren’t married, are they?” “No. How did you guess?” “Deduction. There are plenty of men who won’t marry a woman in the military if her job takes her away too often.” “Do you think that’s a good thing? That they aren’t married?” She shrugged, wrestling with feelings she’d battled for three years. “Maybe. Maybe not. Having a relationship with someone in the military isn’t easy. As you found out.” He tilted his head to the side. “Is that what you believe? That it’s the military that makes it difficult?” “Yes. There’s too much danger, travel and hardship for families. It just isn’t worth it.” His gaze hardened, and she felt a smidgen of satisfaction. Maybe he’d see now that he shouldn’t expend energy on her. Getting involved with her wouldn’t be a good idea. “Even though plenty of other occupations involve travel, danger, and hardship,” he said. “Of course, but…” She drifted, uncertain how to defend her position other than with the experiences she’d had with Alec. “You have an extraordinary family to support you.”

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“They have their moments. We’re pretty damn well-adjusted, though. We’re not even fashionably dysfunctional.” “Are you sure? I thought every family was dysfunctional.” His irreverent grin added to the twinkle lighting his eyes. “We rate right up there with wonderfully functional.” “That’s refreshing. What was your high school life like?” He shifted sideways, and his thigh bumped hers. She sucked in a breath and realized that talking about mundane life events didn’t keep her from feeling a sizzling attraction at his every touch. “High school was average I guess. I loved football but couldn’t get on the varsity. I was big enough and pumped iron, but our football coach didn’t believe in sharing the field with kids who weren’t his top performers. A hell of a lot of us spent time on the bench. He told me I was good, but not that good.” A pang of understanding made her say, “That must have been really disappointing.” “Damned disappointing. My parents tried to get me through it, but I was pissed at myself for not being good enough to play and pissed at the coach for not letting me play.” “Did you play in college?” “No. I went into the military at eighteen. I did squeeze in my Bachelors in Business, but it took me six years. Had too many military exercises. Then I trained to be 180 Alpha which is a Warrant Officer MOS. A lot of people don’t realize we’re officers and not enlisted.” She knew enough about MOS’s, military occupational specialties. Her time around Alec had educated her. “And you’re now a Chief Warrant Officer three?” she asked. “That’s right.” “And you’ve never regretted going the Special Forces route?” “Hell, no. It’s been fantastic. I love it.” His statement blurred the lines for her. Could she care about a man who loved a job that put him in such danger? After what she’d suffered with Alec?

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Silence enveloped them, and that’s when she decided she should cut the conversation short and head to her apartment. “I’m tired, Jake. Since we’re all locked up, I’m saying goodnight. It was great talking to you.” He seemed amenable enough to finishing the conversation, and when he smiled at her, heat still curled low in her loins. “About earlier,” he said, “when we kissed…I won’t be coy and I hope you won’t either. I’ve never been shy about much in my life. I won’t pretend I don’t want to kiss you again, but I can see you’re apprehensive about it. For that reason, I won’t kiss you again until you ask me to, or until you kiss me.” Marisa’s lips parted, but at first nothing came out. “Wow. Well, that’s not something I expected to hear. But I’m…it’s nice that you’re not pushing me. I don’t know if I’m ready for anything, Jake. Alec’s been dead three years, but there’re other things you don’t know.” He nodded. “No pressure. I’ve never had to beg a woman for her kisses before, and maybe you’ll drive me so nuts I’ll resort to begging.” Seated so near, she could smell his delicious scent enveloping her as she was pulled to his magnetism by something she couldn’t resist. Marisa sucked in a deep breath as he slid out of the booth, aware she’d come within inches of just leaning over and kissing him despite all her reservations. “I’ll get the lights,” he said. “Thanks.” She headed upstairs, her pulse continuing an erratic flutter. God, she needed to get a grip on this overwhelming attraction that built every minute. She arrived at the office door and realized her uncle hadn’t locked it when he left. She withdrew the keys from her pocket to finish the job when the phone jangled. Marisa about came out of her skin. “Crap!” Her heart banged against her ribs as she flipped on the lights. Who would call the office number at this time of night? “Hello?” she asked into the phone. Silence. “Hello?”

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She knew someone was on the other end of the line. Jake stopped at the office door when he saw her. “You’re going to die,” a voice whispered through the receiver.

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Chapter Five Jake saw Marisa’s eyes widen as she listened to whoever spoke on the other end of the phone. Her eyes flashed with fear. Son-of-a-bitch. Concerned, he stepped into the office. When she set the phone down in the cradle and cursed softly, he headed toward her. “What’s wrong?” “Another prank call.” Her voice trembled, and she shoved one hand through her glossy hair. A strand fell over one eye and gave her a sexy, seductive look he knew was unconscious. She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes, then put the glasses back on. “I got one earlier tonight before I came down to the tavern.” “What did they say?” he asked. “I should have hung up immediately when they didn’t answer me right away.” He leaned on her uncle’s desk and looked her straight in the eye. “Marisa, come on. Tell me.” Deep worry etched her beautiful eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe away every worry she possessed. He knew such a wish was impossible, but it didn’t keep him from wanting it. Her full, red lips parted, and she hugged her arms around her body. “He said, ‘You’re going to die.’ Essentially the same thing he said earlier tonight.” Disgusted, he came around the side of the desk and clasped her shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re all right.” She shivered under his touch, and he rubbed her shoulders. Vulnerability reflected in her eyes. “I’m not sure about that.” “You’re safe in this building with me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He meant it down in the core of his being and impulsively drew her into his embrace. To his surprise, she nestled into his chest. Her arms went around his waist and held tight. He pressed his lips to her forehead, then kissed the top of her head. He inhaled her 54

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fantastic scent. He didn’t know a damn thing about flowers, but he thought he smelled roses. Sweet, womanly roses. And God, the way her curves felt. His cock didn’t care that he gave comfort—primal instincts roared inside him. He wanted her in his bed where he could hold her close and protect her. She lifted her head and gazed up at him. “This is nuts. I’m…you’re…” “Holding you?” “Yes.” “That’s a bad thing?” “Well, no. I just didn’t expect it.” Her eyes widened, and his gaze dropped to those parted, undoubtedly warm lips he wanted to plunder and take and seduce. “Do you feel better now that I’m holding you?” A smile flirted with her lips. “Yes.” “Then it’s all good.” He drew her tighter to his chest and savored the moment. Her breasts pressed as warm, soft globes and burned into his chest. Combined with her feminine scent and enticing curves, he was a fuckin’ goner. Shit, his cock hardened like granite at the silky smoothness of her skin as he caressed her arm. His fingers slipped to the back of her neck and he kneaded her muscles. Primal forces he understood burgeoned and grew inside him until he couldn’t deny them. He’d be damned if any man came between them and tried to hurt her. He knew right then that if she was in danger he’d do anything. Anything to keep her safe. “You’re safe.” He caressed her back. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” As he said the words, he noted that he’d never spoken this way to a woman before, with total conviction that he would step in front of a bullet for her. Shocked down to the core, he stared at her with a searching disbelief that scared him. Sure, he’d wanted his wife safe, but at no time had he voiced it to her. Had he ever felt this way about the woman who’d left him a Dear John letter? Ah, Jesus. What the hell am I thinking?

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Exactly what I said I wanted from the time I first saw her. Thinking about getting her into bed. No doubt about it. His mind formulated about seven hundred ways he wanted to fuck her. He knew she’d be shocked down to her pretty painted toes if she knew how much he wanted her and which ways he wanted her. If only I could be with her one night, that would take away the desire. She’d stop being a challenge, a mystery that begged understanding. But having her in his bed once wouldn’t remove his need to keep her safe. He knew that without a doubt. Jake eased her from his arms. “Feeling better?” Marisa’s cheeks went rosy, her eyes doubtful and filled with embarrassment. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t ever do things like that.” Puzzled, he frowned. “What things?” She shrugged. “Throw myself into men’s arms and play the little helpless maiden.” She winced. “I always hated spooky movies or adventure movies from the thirties and up through the fifties and sixties because half the time the women were useless and screamed a lot.” Understanding made him grin. “It’s okay. You aren’t screaming and you aren’t helpless.” He winked and flexed one biceps. “But shucks, ma’am,” he drawled, “it makes a poor country man like me feel big and strong.” He cleared his throat. “It’s good for my ego.” She snorted softly. “Jake, you are so full of it. You’re a big bad dude with muscles out to here. Like you need any reassurance about your masculinity.” Before she could run too far away, he followed, reached out and circled her small biceps with his hand. “Wait. There are a few things that I need to know you’ll do.” Her mouth popped open. “What?” “I’m right next door and you have my cell number. If you ever for any reason feel unsafe, you can call. Don’t hesitate.” Instead of pulling away from his grip, she moved in closer to him. “Why are you this way around me? I mean, you’re not only concerned and nice, you’re almost acting like

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my personal bodyguard. But honestly, I don’t need looking after. If my uncle put you up to this, I’m letting you off the hook.” “Yeah, your uncle wants me to watch out for you. But even if he didn’t, if he hadn’t said a thing, I’d still have this feeling right here—” he tapped the middle of his chest with his fist, “—that I can’t do anything else. I don’t want to do anything else. Good night.” He turned and went to the door, and then he headed toward his apartment, leaving her with a craving so profound she ached with it.

*** “Jake’s the same way?” Freddie asked as she placed the delicate teacup into the saucer she held. “Incredible.” Marisa tossed her friend a wry smile as she joined her at the tavern table near the bar late in the afternoon. They hadn’t opened yet after the break between lunch and dinner. “Apparently. Two peas in a pod, as they say. I saw the way Keith was with you. He was hovering while we were in Mexico.” Freddie returned her smile and placed her teacup and saucer onto the table in front of her. “Keith hovered because he was scared. There’s a part of him that runs on fear. Jake was doing the same thing with you while we were in Mexico. He watched you like a hawk and everyone noticed it.” Marisa’s face flamed. “God, really?” “You didn’t notice?” “I did, but…” “You didn’t want to admit to yourself that he was attracted to you…is attracted to you. Why do you suppose that?” Marisa wanted to hide and deny the truth, but now that she’d been around him for a while, she couldn’t deny either her attraction or his. “I’m not sure. Maybe because any relationship with him is complicated.” “How?” Marisa felt old memories surface with a wicked burn. “I’d rather not say.” www.samhainpublishing.com

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Freddie looked contrite, her eyes filled with the remorse of someone who’d committed a large transgression. “I’m so sorry. I was being too nosy.” Marisa leaned forward, not wanting her newfound friendship to splinter into misunderstanding. “No, it’s all right. Let’s just…I’d like to leave it as is right now, that’s all. It’s a long and complicated story. But explain one thing to me. You said Keith was scared. About what?” Freddie pushed back a lock of her hair, her smile broad and genuine. “It’s simple, really. Keith was born to protect others. It’s a part of his personality or he wouldn’t be in the career he’s in.” She took a sip of her tea. “More than anything though, it’s because he loves me.” Marisa stared into her tea and watched the steam rise from the dark liquid. Finally she turned her attention back to Freddie, doubt firmly in place. “That’s good for you, but Jake and I haven’t known each other that long. There’s no reason for him to be that attached to me.” Freddie finished off the last of her tea and pushed the cup and saucer to the side. “I didn’t know Keith that long before I fell for him.” Marisa shook her head, the idea that Jake could have feelings for her setting off a firestorm of longing inside her. The idea felt wonderful. Glowing inside her with a power she’d rather not acknowledge. “It’s not like that between Jake and me.” Freddie tipped her head to the side, then propped her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table. “What is it then? It seems like you find him interesting and attractive.” Marisa slipped her glasses off her nose and stared at the dirty lenses in disgust. She left the table and cruised across the room until she found tissues behind the well-stocked bar. She wandered back to the table and cleaned the glasses as she went. “Sure, he’s attractive.” Marisa sat down at the table once more. “Sure, he’s even…” Freddie’s wide grin was unrepentant. “Sexy?” Marisa plopped her glasses back on her face and brought the world into focus. “Freddie,” she said in mock indignation. “I thought you were head-over-heels, rampantly

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out of your mind over Captain Keith Wallace. What are you doing noticing another man?” Freddie waggled her eyebrows. “Oh come on. Just because I’m engaged doesn’t mean I’m dead. I still know a sexy man when I see one. Jake is a Grade A, number one hottie.” “That, my friend, is a cliché.” “And you don’t like Jake Sullivan being reduced to a cliché. How would you describe him?” Marisa balked. “How the hell did I get into this conversation?” Freddie sat back, staring at her like a clinical psychologist equipped to ferret out her most serious neurosis. “I called to see how you were doing, you invited me here, and here I am. Then you started talking about how overprotective Jake is and what you should do about it.” Marisa pointed at Freddie. “Yep. That’s it. That was the reason.” “So, give it up. What do you personally think of Jake?” Marisa relented. “I think Jake is powerful. Dangerous. Bristling with action and testosterone. As if he’s spring-loaded for action.” Freddie chuckled. “Hey, it sounds like you’re describing Keith.” The tavern phone rang, and Marisa ran behind the bar to grab it. Jake walked in just then, all smiles. “Who is bristling with testosterone? Captain Wallace?” Marisa said into her phone, “Hello?” “You’re going to die bitch. Real soon. I guarantee it,” a soft, though determined voice whispered into the phone. Anger sliced straight through Marisa like a serrated knife. She clicked off her phone without responding. “Damn.” Shaking, she whispered again, “Damn.” Jake came forward, his brow creased with worry. “What’s wrong?” She glanced at Jake and Freddie. “A prank call. Just like the others.” “Oh, no,” Freddie said. “Not another call.”

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“What did they say?” Jake asked, his hands on his hips and eyes blazing down into hers. She relayed what she’d heard. She stood, too edgy now to relax into the friendly atmosphere she’d had with Freddie but a minute ago. Besides, how could she find repose when Jake prowled the room, anger and irritation in every line of his face? He stopped pacing and stood in front of her, hands on hips, every line of his body determined and strong. “That’s it. You need protection twenty-four seven, and I’m going to provide it.” Marisa glared. “I don’t think so. This isn’t negotiable.” Freddie grimaced, her concern more than evident. She stood and picked up her purse. “Is there anything I can do?” Marisa tried a smile, but it fell, broken and weak. “Just tell me the creep who’s calling is a teenager with nothing better to do on their summer vacation.” Freddie pressed Marisa’s arm in sympathy. “It’ll be okay, but I’d call the police if I was you.” Marisa pushed her hands into her hair and closed her eyes. “They won’t be able to do anything, and you know it.” “They can get the phone company to monitor the line,” Freddie said. Marisa nodded. “Okay. I’ll call them.” She turned a firm look on Jake. “That make you happy?” “No. But it’ll do for now,” he said. “I’ll let you two work this out,” Freddie said. “But you guys call me if you need anything.” Freddie left the building after saying goodbye. “What?” Marisa asked Jake. “Why are you so angry looking?” He stalked over to her. “Because I am angry as hell that someone is doing this to you.” She shivered again, then shook her head in total denial. “I won’t let this get to me. I have things I need to do today.”

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“Are you leaving the tavern?” “No. Uncle Dexter had some business in town and I was going to finish work on his books.” “After you call the police?” She nodded. “I’ll call them right now.” As she suspected, other than giving the telephone company permission to tap into the tavern phone line and her personal cell phone number, the police couldn’t help. After she hung up from the phone call, she gave Jake a long look filled with defiance. “I’ll have to call my uncle and ask him what he wants to do.” Jake turned away from the window he’d stared out of for the last several moments. “Let’s do it, then.” Uncle Dexter, predictably, came almost as unglued as Jake had about the calls. “When it was just the tavern phone you weren’t so concerned,” she said over the phone. “Of course not,” Uncle Dexter said. “But the creep has your number. This is getting way too personal. Meet me down at the police station. We’re getting this taken care of now.” When she got off the phone and explained that her uncle was on board with the idea, Jake also said something predictable. “I’m going with you to the station.” She headed across the tavern, intent on retrieving her purse upstairs. “Is that necessary?” He grunted and followed her. “You have to ask?” She groaned. “Jake, I appreciate your concern but don’t you think you’re overreacting?” “Nope.” He stopped in the middle of the floor. Rather than continue, she stopped and eyed him with curiosity. “You honestly think the person on the other end of the line is serious about killing me?” Jake planted his hands on his hips. “I hope the hell not. Do you have a weapon?” “You mean like a gun?” “Yeah.”

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“No. I don’t even like guns. Never shot one.” “Do you have self-defense training?” She could see where his logic was heading and didn’t like the answers she had to give. “No.” “Then if some freak out there really plans to do you harm, would you rather rely on yourself in this situation only, or would you rather have me there to help if you need it?” Herself? Untrained in combat, no weapon. Jake? Battle-hardened, highly physical, warrior. Okay, it was no contest. But it hurt to say the words, and she had to force them past her throat. “You. I’d rather have you there to help.” I’d rather have you. Oh, yeah. She’d rather have him in more ways than she wanted to admit, damn it. His gaze filled with understanding. “Marissa, it’s not about losing your independence. And my protection doesn’t come with any strings. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” She swallowed hard around an aching lump in her throat. “You can’t guarantee my safety.” “Of course not.” He sighed and reached out, brushing his hand over her head in one gentle, quick caress. “Okay, let’s put it this way. If you don’t let me come with you, I’m going to go nuts, all right? I’m going to be eaten alive by worry. And you can be damned sure that if anyone tries anything, anything at all, I’m going to go through heaven and earth to keep you safe.” Faced with his intensity, with the genuine concern, she couldn’t refuse him. “All right. Come on before I change my mind.”

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Chapter Six Jake heard the man talking about a woman, and his ears perked up. He wouldn’t have noticed at all, except for the tone and the insinuation. He kept his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed, stance casual and disinterested as he stood behind the booth. Music throbbed in the room, loud enough to create a jovial atmosphere, but not obnoxious enough to make people yell to hear each other. “You see, it’s like this,” the man said in the booth nearby. “She’s a stone cold bitch. I’ve tried to get her to notice me more than once, and she’s like ice.” “Did you ask her out?” another man’s voice asked. “Hell, no. I’m workin’ up to it. Figure I should get to know her a bit. See if she might be interested.” “I’d ask her out now. What’s the use in waiting?” “I’m waiting because I don’t think she’s going to go for it. Like I said, she’s cold. Doesn’t seem to give any man the time of day.” “She likes that bartender. Smiles at him, as a matter of fact.” “So? He works here. She has to act as if she likes him.” “There’s that bouncer too. You see the way she looks at that bouncer? Like she wants to eat him up.” Jake’s ears tuned in big time. What? His ego crowed at the thought of Marisa admiring him physically or mentally. “Who is she to that old man, anyway?” the asshole who wanted Marisa asked. “Which old man?” “Dexter. The guy who owns the place.” “Oh, she’s his niece.” “Fuck me.” The other man laughed. “Why? Does that scare you off?” www.samhainpublishing.com

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“Nah. Doesn’t make her any different than any other woman. I dunno. Maybe she’s one of those lesbians, you know?” “Damn shame if she is a lesbian,” the other man said, his voice higher, less certain. “She’s pretty.” “Yeah. Sorta. That curly hair is always a mess, though. And those glasses. Hell, you wouldn’t think a woman like that would turn down any offers when she’s as bookish lookin’ as that. She could be so hot, though, if she got rid of those glasses. And her clothes don’t show off her body. I’d like to find out what she hides under those clothes, you know?” Jake’s alarm system went on full alert. The fuckin’ prick in the booth talked about Marisa as if she were disposable, a piece of meat to enjoy and throw away. To use sexually. After Marisa had gone to the police the other night and taps were set up on the phone, the creep who had called the tavern and her cell phone hadn’t made another call. Jake’s hands clutched into fists, and Jake wanted to walk around, grab the butt wipe by the collar and toss him from the bar onto his skinny ass. Then he’d give him a lecture on never, ever talking about her like that again. Not. That would go over well with Dexter, who wandered the room talking to patrons, checking their drinks and asking how they faired. Dexter had explained the parameters on when to kick a troublemaker out of the bar. Jake couldn’t toss a man out the door for talking trash about women. He decided to ignore the bastard and stand in another part of the room. He didn’t need to hear more twisted words from the asshole. “I’ve called her, too,” the man said before Jake could walk away. Jake froze in place and listened. “Called her?” the man’s friend asked. “I thought you said you haven’t asked her out.” “Haven’t. I called her once and then chickened out. I hung up before I could say anything.” His friend laughed, the chuckle high-pitched. “Damn. You are a pussy.” “Fuck you, asshole.”

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We have the cream of the crop right here. Two jack offs for the price of one. Jake moved until he could see the creep’s booth. The man who had a crush on Marisa had a sharp, crooked nose in a thin, hawkish face. His bald head was tattooed right at the top with a weird snake. He wore a black leather vest over his naked, thin chest, and black jeans and boots. Biker material, maybe. His friend, incongruously, wore a red and blue flannel shirt over a navy T-shirt. Faded jeans clung to the man’s burly thighs. With long, lank blond hair and a non-descript face, he still didn’t appear harmless. Jake planned on watching them carefully. Before either man could speak, Marisa walked by their table and smiled. She held an empty tray. One of the regular cocktail waitresses had called in sick and left Dexter in a bind. Marisa had taken up the slack. Baldy’s hand snapped out and snared her forearm. Jake bristled and took a step forward, then held back. Wait. Wait to see what she does. “Hey, beauty,” baldy said. “I was thinking you could help me.” Marisa’s startled expression cooled, then she smiled. “Did you need a drink, sir?” “Yeah. A long, cool drink of you.” Marisa’s expression went from accommodating to annoyed. She tugged, but the man didn’t let her go. “Let me go.” “Why, baby? What time do you get off work? We could talk.” “I’m busy.” She tugged again, but the man’s grip appeared to tighten and she winced. That’s it. The fucker is hurting her. Jake went forward, determined to rip the guy to pieces. He stepped up to the booth, and she smiled at him, relief evident on her face. “Jake,” she said with a sigh. Jake glared at the man gripping her arm. “Let her go. Now.” The asshole released her immediately, and she rubbed her forearm with her other hand. Jake saw clear pain in her eyes, and he put himself between her and the men in the booth. “You have five minutes to pay your drink tab at the bar and leave.”

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The blond man with the long hair stood, and he was a good three or four inches shorter than Jake. He held his hands up. “Hey, no problem, man. I’m not a part of this shit. I’m outta here.” The man headed for the bar. Marisa touched Jake on the shoulder but didn’t speak. “Another thing,” Jake said. “If you’re the one calling her, I’m warning you to stop.” The remaining man smirked. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” “Then get out,” Jake said, anger roiling inside him. The man stood and went to the bar. Jake didn’t wait to see what else he did. Instead, he turned to Marisa and reached for her forearm. Anger burned inside him. “He hurt you.” She shook her head. “No.” Her face hardened. “I didn’t need your help.” Surprised, he released her arm. “That’s what bouncers are for. To keep the patrons safe and kick out undesirables.” She drew in a deep, shaky breath. Her eyes, under those silvery-framed glasses, had a defensive gleam. “I can’t rely on you or any other man to fight my battles for me, Jake. It’s not practical and it’s old-fashioned.” She stalked off, pissed at men in general. Dexter caught up to her at the bar a short time later. Concern narrowed his eyes. “What happened over there between you and Sullivan?” “Did you see that creep grab my arm?” Dexter’s eyes narrowed even more. “Jake grabbed your arm?” “No. No.” She waved one hand. “There were these two guys in a booth.” She explained what went down. Her uncle’s eyes cleared, and now amusement curled his mouth. “And you object to Jake’s help? He’s working for me as a bouncer, dear. It’s his job. I’ll have Jake keep a watch for the guy. He isn’t coming in here again after what he did to you.” “It was no big deal.” She didn’t know why she said that. “The guy was a jerk, sure, but he’s harmless.” “He doesn’t sound harmless to me. Do you want to take off the rest of the evening?”

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A headache started an annoying throb in her temples, and her blood still pumped anxiously. “No. I’m fine. You wouldn’t let any of the other waitresses go home after a stupid encounter like that. I shouldn’t be any different.” “Okay. It’s a deal. I’ll talk to you later.” After her uncle walked away, she spied Jake watching her from across the room. His gaze captured and held hers. Something dangerous in his eyes sent a hot, undeniable longing into her blood. Chill out, girl. It’s over. Jake had only been doing his job, like her uncle said. She drew in a deep breath as she acknowledged that she’d overreacted. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. Damn it. She’d apologize later. The rest of the evening dragged until closing time. Jake, naturally, helped her and Dexter. He went outside at one point and came back in, and she wondered what he’d been doing outside. She didn’t ask, though. She didn’t speak much at all to him, and when she did, she kept it business. Before her uncle left, she headed upstairs to her apartment. Once inside the quiet coziness, she expected the night’s experiences to finally come to a head. Her blood continued to hum with a strange awareness, a jittery sensation she didn’t welcome. She went to the small kitchen and nuked a cup of water for chamomile tea. Chamomile tea always calmed her, and maybe she needed it to ease the coldness that ached in her bones. A knock on her door coincided with the microwave dinging, and she jumped. She headed toward the door, but when she reached it, she called out, “Who is it?” “Jake. Can I talk to you a minute?” She sighed, trying to decide whether to let him in. Time to eat crow. She opened the door. Jake stood in the doorway, his calm expression marred only by the concern in his eyes. When she didn’t invite him inside, he stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. He almost looked deflated. Not an attitude she expected. “Can I come in?” he asked. She backed away and gestured inward. He followed, and when she closed the door, she locked it out of habit. Should she lock herself in with this man? Jake crossed the room to the dark brown leather couch and settled down.

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The microwave dinged in the kitchen again, and she headed into the kitchen to retrieve her drink. “Would you like something to drink? I’m having chamomile tea.” “No, thanks.” She returned to the living room, tea in hand, and sank onto the far end of the couch. She sipped her drink slowly and silence gathered significantly. “Here we are again,” he said. She sipped her hot tea and almost burned her tongue. Awkwardness and nervousness threatened to obliterate any chance of her holding a rational conversation. When he settled more comfortably on the couch, she thought he was solid rock. Dependable. Immovable. That translated into a great thing or a horrible thing depending on how she chose to perceive it. Her hand holding the mug trembled. Oh boy. He’d managed to unnerve her yet again in a way she didn’t immediately understand. She placed her cup of chamomile tea on the coffee table. If she wanted to have any reasonable conversation, she needed to handle her physical responses to Jake. Silence gathered in the room, the tick of a small crystal clock on the fireplace mantle, the steam rising from her tea. Peace surrounded, allowing the edginess she’d encountered moments ago to ease. The fact he didn’t to rush into conversation surprised her. For this space in time he seemed willing to just…be. “So, what did you want to tell me?” she asked when she couldn’t take the quiet any longer. “I’m sorry and yet I’m not.” Amused, she turned toward him more fully. “Sorry that you rushed up like my big, bad ass bodyguard?” “That’s the part I’m not sorry about. When he grabbed your arm, I held back when I wanted to rush forward and tell him to get his fucking hands off you. When I saw that his grip was hurting you, that’s where my patience ended.” His voice, though low and modulated, held an edge. His eyes flashed with anger held in check. “No man ever…ever has the right to hurt a woman like that. Call it old-fashioned, but there’s a part of me that says I’m physically stronger than most women and if another guy who is physically

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stronger than a woman seems intent on hurting her, all bets are off. I’m going to protect her from harm. I’d do that with a little girl or a ninety-five-year-old woman and every female in between. Sue me.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I wouldn’t sue you for that. I appreciate you wanted to help me. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did. Being a bouncer is your job.” He smiled. “Apology accepted.” Everything womanly within her responded on the deepest, most primal level to his male protection. Her heartbeat picked up, and awareness of him as a man gathered more speed. Her belly fluttered with nervous delight, her body opening to his testosterone whether she wanted it or not. Fuck it. She smiled. It was what it was. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?” “There’s more. Let me be frank…and this isn’t coming easy for me.” He shifted on the couch, as if he couldn’t find a comfortable position. “I have a big fault. Sometimes I care too much. At least, a couple of girlfriends I had in the past said I was overprotective. I backed off when I was married, and my wife said I was cold. Unfeeling. Said I kept too much of myself to myself. Right after the divorce I had attitude. I wondered how I could be protective and still be cold. I didn’t look deep enough to try and figure out what these women were saying to me. You’re the first woman I’ve listened to that way. I want to know. I want to learn.” To say she felt astonishment wouldn’t cover it. That a man could lay things on the line with her like this…holy crap. “That’s…” Oh, what could she say? “I’m not used to men talking about how they feel.” His eyes turned genuinely worried. “Should I shut up?” She made a small sound of disbelief, and the vulnerability she saw in his eyes opened a wide, new place inside her that she felt had never been touched before. “No. Heavens, no. Go on.”

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He sighed, and Marisa thought she heard relief in it. “I’m on a learning curve. I don’t have a right to expect you to understand that, but if I want your respect, it’s obvious you don’t take bullshit off of anyone and you like honesty. So I’m being honest until it hurts.” She blinked. “I’m…well, let’s say I’m astonished. You are direct, aren’t you? But you know what? I do respect that.” Warmth exploded deep in her belly, and she found herself leaning toward him a bit, eager to know and understand. “Do you think you backed off from your wife because women in your past said you were too protective?” “Yes and no. I was thinking about that just tonight. I cared about all the women I’ve wanted to protect, but with my wife I went too far and tried not to care as much. So yeah, I screwed up. But I also think I wasn’t as protective because I truly didn’t love her as much as I thought I did.” “You were mixed up.” “You could say that.” “You were human, in other words.” Jake grinned. “Thanks. I’m glad my actions tonight didn’t convince you otherwise.” Remorse stung her. “Like I said, I overreacted.” He shook his head. “I held back. Believe me. I heard him talking about you like you were a piece of ass. It made me feel…possessive.” That word hung in the air. Telling. Not telling. When she allowed his statement to sink in, he continued. “But I think it goes back to when I was a kid.” He grinned. “Yeah, my sordid past. I said we didn’t have a dysfunctional family. In the immediate family we didn’t.” He leaned forward until his forearms rested on his thighs. His eyes drilled into hers. “My mother’s sister, Jane, had this bad tendency to get mixed up with men who didn’t respect her. Low-life, crummy, no-good bastards who didn’t like women. Mom tried to help Jane, but it didn’t do her much good. Jane was really stupid about this one thing in her life even when she was so damned smart in every other way. She was a bank executive. She was a real sweet woman with a head for business. She taught men to treat her like crap, though.” He laid his arm along the back of the couch as he turned toward Marisa. “Anyway, this guy who

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treated her like crap shot her point blank in the head one night and she died.” He swallowed hard. Marisa’s heart ached, a slow, slow thump of hurt rising in her own chest. “How old were you?” “Ten. I was devastated. She was a second mom to me and she deserved more. I think I was angry that she didn’t ask for more.” She reached out and placed her hand over his, pressing his fingers as gently as she could to convey her feelings. “I’m so sorry.” He nodded and looked away. “Thanks. I’m not using this as an excuse. It’s one reason why I think I tend to jump in when a woman needs help. Even when she doesn’t want it.” She lifted her touch, her fingers cupping his jaw line. “Jake, you’re a gem. Thank you for telling me all this. For sharing.” He nodded and stood up slowly. “Well, that’s it. I thought I’d explain myself before you got the impression I was just a jackass.” She chuckled and stood as well. They were close. So close she drank in his delicious male scent. “I never thought that, Jake. Never.” Then, because she wanted it…ached for it, she did one thing maybe she shouldn’t. She had no guarantee how he’d respond, though she thought she knew what he’d do. More than that, she had no guarantee where it would all end. Marisa took the leap. “Did you feel like your wife didn’t understand your job?” Marisa ached with a desire to know. The more he revealed, the deeper her understanding of this complex man. The more she craved to know. “If she did, she never showed me. She didn’t want to talk about my missions.” Surprised, she said, “You can’t talk about Special Forces missions anyway.” He smiled. “No. But I can talk about the emotions. There were things I wanted so damned badly to tell her, but she shut down. Told me she didn’t want her life filled with those ugly things.” He grunted in derision. “My ugly emotions.”

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God, how she understood. “Alec, my fiancé, wouldn’t tell me much of anything. And he wasn’t even Special Forces.” “What was his MOS?” “Eleven Bravo.” She knew he’d understand that Alec was an infantryman. His eyes narrowed. “You know, it took me a while to remember, but I’m pretty sure I met him.” “What?” Her throat went tight, dry and apprehension gathered in her stomach and tightened all her muscles. “Yeah. I know who he is…was.” A warrior’s resolve gleamed in his eyes. Shaken by the fact Jake said he knew Alec, she took a deep breath and tried to regain equilibrium. “Where…” She cleared her throat. “Where did you meet him?” “Several years ago at Fort Bragg. We were introduced in passing a couple of times. He was about five ten? Blond hair and sort of a ruddy complexion?” Oh, he knew Alec all right. “Wow. Yes. That’s him.” Jake’s lips twitched, but not in apparent amusement. “Sort of hot-tempered?” Her eyebrows went up. “You met him a couple of times and you already figured that out?” “Yep.” “I saw that temper a few times. It could be ugly.” “Yeah? He didn’t hurt you did he?” Low and husky with tension, his voice vibrated with concern. Her eyes snapped open. “No. Nothing like that.” She shook her head and shifted on the couch. “What did he do?” “Okay. Alec…well, I suppose you want to know more about why I…” She didn’t know why she wanted to explain to him about Alec, but the drive felt so powerful she wanted to spew the explanation and all her feelings in a rush. Yet she couldn’t. It would be an embarrassment. A mess.

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His gaze pinpointed on her and not letting up. “What did he do?” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s not what he did. It’s what he didn’t do.” Confessing to Jake called to her on the deepest level and asked her to reveal all that she’d experienced, all she wanted to experience without fear. She took a deep breath and dared to sink into the fathoms deep quality of his eyes. “He didn’t do a good job of staying in touch on exercises. I emailed him and he wouldn’t email back. He used the excuse that the email wasn’t getting through. He made promises he couldn’t fulfill. They hurt. But I went along with the…fog I was in.” “Fog?” She made an exasperated sound. “I’m sorry, I’m not explaining this very well.” “No problem. Go on.” Reassured, she continued. “It started before he went to Iraq. Our relationship had this hollow quality before he left. We made love and it was satisfactory. I wasn’t feeling anything too deeply. It made what we had seem unimportant. Not as full. Like nothing more than skin on skin.” She laughed without humor. “He wasn’t present and neither was I. Sure, he got some physical satisfaction out of it…” “And you?” She shook her head. “Not much.” Jake’s frown went deep, as if he understood totally and didn’t like what he heard. “Was he saying that he wanted you? That he loved you, but there something was missing the whole time?” She nodded. A wave of relief hit her. “Down deep I think I always knew he wasn’t that into me.” She made a short, sharp bark of laughter, sarcasm rife within the sound. “Why did I keep denying the truth to myself? We were engaged, but I also realized we sort of fell into it. I don’t think he ever really meant to marry me.” “Don’t beat yourself up. We all make mistakes like this sometimes.” She looked up at him, suddenly aware that she’d been staring at the floor for a few moments, unable to see his real reaction. “Do we?”

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He allowed his touch to brush over her arm, sliding down, down until he gathered her small wrist in his hand. He lifted and brought her wrist to his lips and brushed a solitary, tickling kiss to the inside. Marisa’s awareness of him as a man hadn’t diminished because of serious conversation. Quite the opposite. Her breath hissed inward. “You didn’t answer my question.” Real compassion filled his eyes, and his mouth twisted slightly in a gentle smile. “We want someone to love us, even when they can’t. We all play games on occasion, even when we shouldn’t. Sometimes we play a game even before we know we’re doing it. And then we wake up one morning and say ‘fuck’ because then we know we screwed up.” She smiled, amazed she could see things clearer with him beside her and understand things better knowing that he listened. “Damn it, Chief Sullivan, you are one deep man.” He chuckled, and her heart had time to feel light. Then he brought her other hand up and kissed the palm, sending tingles of wanton awareness shooting to every point in her body. Her breath shortened as he kept her hand in his, his touch non-aggressive, yet stirring her deeply. I could care for this man. I do care. And it scared her spitless. Her natural, suspicious nature lashed out, unable to cope with the heart-warming, gut-wrenching emotions this conversation caused within her. “Why are we here, Jake?” His brow wrinkled, emphasizing the frown he seemed to own much of the time. “Cutting to the chase? Not playing any games?” “Why are you opening up to me? Do you do this with other women, hoping they’ll allow you into their bed?” Surprise, then anger flickered in his eyes. “Damn it, Marisa, that stung. I thought you knew me better than that.” Regret sank sharp teeth. “I’m sorry.”

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He didn’t release her. Instead he drew closer. “No you’re not. You’re pissed at men and I happen to be the closest one.” “You didn’t answer that question either. Are you getting close to me because you want to get into my bed?” “Okay, I’ll be honest. One of the reasons I came to Clarksville was because I wanted to see you again. More than I’d ever wanted to see a woman. Plus, I figured if I slept with you, I’d be able to get you out of my system. Now I know that’s not true.” Jake’s expression intensified with an emotion she couldn’t read, caught between denial and all out remorse. He peered at her. “Yeah, I want to make love with you, but that’s not what this is all about right now. Not by a long shot.” Stunned into silence, she soaked in his words. Finally he asked, “There’s more you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” She sighed. “Yeah, there’s more. And I think I’d better tell you right now.”

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Chapter Seven Jake’s frown deepened. “Sounds serious.” “It’s serious only in that I should have told you sooner.” He nodded, a wariness entering his eyes. She couldn’t blame him. Nervousness pushed her to talk quickly. “I didn’t know it, but when Alec left for Iraq, I was…pregnant.” “Pregnant?” Jake heard the word, and saw the fear in her eyes. His mind whirled instantly with possibilities. Would she tell him she had a child? A three-year-old somewhere? “I was three weeks late but didn’t think too much of it at first. I’d had a problem earlier that year with my periods being off. When I heard that Alec was dead, I’d just come home from the doctor that same day. I’d found out I was pregnant and that afternoon heard that he’d been killed.” Tears spilled from her eyes, and he swallowed hard. Damn it. He didn’t deal with female tears well, but this time it hit him in the gut with a punch. “Hey, hey,” he said softly as her anguish ate him alive. He brushed her cheek, dabbing away a tear. She slipped from his reach as she went to the fireplace mantle, her beautiful face reminding him of a goddess he’d once seen in a book on a pantheon of gods and goddess. Wisdom and light radiated from her like Athena, while her body, so curved and lush with womanly qualities, spoke of Venus. He wanted to draw her into his arms and comfort her. But he hesitated. Let her release the anguish. “You have a child?” he asked through an aching throat. She stroked the mantle, her fingers tracing one gnarled knob of wood. “I had a miscarriage that night when I found out about Alec.” “Oh, God,” he whispered, a pain lancing his psyche. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 76

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“That’s not the only double whammy. He’d sent me an email the day before he was killed, but I didn’t look at my email for three days after I had the miscarriage. When I finally looked his message froze my heart.” His heart felt equally frozen, as cold as permafrost in Alaska. “What did it say?” “He’d decided that he was breaking our engagement.” He went to her, gathering into his arms and pressing her head to his chest. She shuddered and sighed, and he wondered if she’d break down. Eventually he asked, “Did you want the baby?” “Yes. But maybe it was better…for the best, what happened.” “Did you love him?” “I think I honestly didn’t love him for a long time.” She smiled and wiped away her tears. She drew back slightly. He saw a new acceptance in her eyes, something different and moving and solid he hadn’t seen there before. As if all the heat between them before paled in comparison to the genuine connection they might feel now. Instead of speaking, Jake cupped Marisa’s face, and without speaking, she stood on tiptoe and took his mouth in a soul-twisting kiss. Marisa’s lips parted for his tongue. She shuddered in his hold, and his arms anchored her tight. His understanding ignited a flame inside her she didn’t want to extinguish and refused to ignore any longer. She kept her hands flat and unmoving along his firm flesh, allowing the burning heat to enter her palms and sear the memory of his hardness into her skin. His erection pressed firmly against her belly, and she moaned in heady enjoyment. As his arms drew her tight along his strong frame, she allowed her arms to link around his neck. His tongue stroking along hers sent a wild fission of yearning to her pussy. She responded, dueling with him until their mouths moved, caressed, tested each other’s limits. He drew back, his breath coming hard, his eyes feral with intent. “To answer your question, I came here to get rid of my obsession for you. I want to know you, and I want to make love with you. I want to take you hard and deep and everything in between.”

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Her lips parted, and she felt his breath on her mouth as he hovered close, waiting to see whether she’d shove him away or answer the throbbing, hot need that pulsed and begged and demanded a finish. Marisa had seen the heat in his eyes a few seconds before she kissed him, a wickedness that singed her with its strength and honesty. He’d told her the unvarnished truth and she’d told him her truth, and she had no choice but to believe him. He hadn’t come here for the adventure of being a bouncer—face it, that job was a hell of a lot less dangerous than Special Forces. “Tell me to stop, Marisa,” he said softly. “Or tell me to continue. Which is it?” His bluntness should have offended. Maybe. But what he said next softened those words. “I’m not like Alec, Marisa.” He tunneled his hands into her hair. “I won’t make love to you and then promise something I can’t give. But I’m not a heartless bastard either. I care about you.” A storm rose in his eyes. He took in a quick ragged breath. “A hell of a lot. And since the first moment I saw you I’ve wanted to make love with you.” She knew, as quickly as some animals know their lifetime mates, that he meant what he said. She saw passion and deep desire and a whirlwind of emotion crashing around in his eyes. Maybe it was his very bluntness that drove her over the edge. She palmed his chest, felt the strength under her fingers and breathed in slow and deep. “Stay,” she said softly. If she expected a rush to completion, she found none. His mouth brushed and touched with tender exploration. Soon Jake’s hands explored, reaching along her back down to her butt. He cupped her ass in both hands, and she gasped into his mouth. God, nothing had felt as good before as this man holding her in this way, touching and stroking, taking her mouth as if he meant it for life. For eternity. Her nipples pebbled and hardened and tingled. The heat between her legs increased, wet and lush. Her body wanted his to explore, to notice her secrets in a way no man dared to before. She felt free, in an odd way compelled to know and explore in the most reckless ways.

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One kiss melted into another. At first his kisses nipped at the edge of her sensual strings, plucking away and stimulating. Liberating a side of her she’d almost forgotten after Alec died. Had this side ever been here? What happened now felt deeper, burned brighter than anything she’d shared with Alec. That frightened her more than she could admit. He cupped her small left breast, his palm weighing it, then skimming lightly until his fingers came up to tease and test her nipple through T-shirt and bra. With the padding inside her bra, she didn’t think she could feel anything, but the abrasion sizzled, tightening her nipple into a hard pinpoint, aching for more. And more would be beyond delicious. She wriggled under his teasing touch. Without breaking his passionate kiss, he slid his fingers across her midriff and under her T-shirt. With one deft movement, he unhooked the front of her bra and captured her naked breast in his big, warm palm. He squeezed gently, then his forefinger and thumb came up and teased, rubbed, caressed her nipple. She jerked, gasped into his mouth as he stimulated the aching flesh. He was relentless, plucking and tugging at the nipple until the heat it generated threatened to make her glow from the inside out. What compelled her to feel as if she’d known him longer than she had? What compelled her to think she’d know him longer than a few days? That if she allowed this kiss to grow in intimacy, he’d own a part of her today and always? Her desire to keep him close would have to vanish or her heart would along with it. She couldn’t pretend he wanted anything permanent. Heat grew in her belly and spread downward to between her legs. Wet, warm arousal pulsed to life. Things moved deliciously, tossed by a wave so sensual and physical she couldn’t stop them…didn’t want to stop. Marisa’s body flowed into his effortlessly, as if she’d always been in his arms, always belonged. As his body caressed hers, she knew this moment couldn’t go unanswered. Their lips melded, held, caressed with a passion that fired her from the inside and flowed outward. His tongue tangled with hers in a restless dance, and she responded with fervor, so he couldn’t mistake the depth of her desire.

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He drew back from her enough to reach for the hem of her shirt and draw it upward. Then he dipped his head and found her right nipple with a single wet lash of his tongue. She gasped and squirmed in heady enjoyment, arousal pooling and stirring with a star bright brilliance. She’d never felt quite this way before with another man. Not even with Alec. Alec’s face faded until she couldn’t even recall his lovemaking. Jake had stolen the past, taken it away for this space in time and replaced past disappointments with glittering new feelings. She writhed in Jake’s arms as he bathed her nipple with steady, teasing licks. Each sweet, hot swirl made her arch and twist, tormented by the arousal rising like an approaching storm ready to break. When he drew her nipple deep into his hot mouth and sucked, she gasped and grabbed at his shoulders. Her hands traced upwards over his neck, mindlessly slipping into his short hair. “Please,” she managed to rasp. “That feels so good. Don’t stop.” He complied, finding one way and then another to tease, taste, brush over the ultra sensitive flesh. Between her legs she went so hot and slick and wet she wanted to strip off her clothes and simply forget under his sensual, demanding touch. Sink down on his hard pole and ride him until he became incoherent with sexual satiation. Again and again he stimulated her nipples. He taunted one vulnerable nipple, twisting it gently between his fingers as he sucked and bathed the other with his relentless tongue. It seemed forever he feasted, played, taunted her to the verge of begging. She needed his fingers, his cock, his mouth between her legs to appease the steady ache. Anything else wouldn’t do to take away this screaming need. She wanted to explode, to find a blissful place only he could provide, a paradise she’d never quite reached. Before she gave much thought to the consequences, she pulled from his arms. In the low light he stared at her, his eyes glazed with hungry passion. She knew what he wanted, had felt the way his cock pressed against her in need, his assertive touch as he’d cupped her breasts and caressed her nipples. She could see his masculinity, pressing hard against his jeans. She made a decision and put her hand out to him.

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He stood and encircled her smaller hand in his. She turned and eased around the coffee table, walking toward the bedroom. Making love with him this way might not be exotic or kinky, but it felt right. If their first time, perhaps their only time, was destined to have the gentleness and reassurance that came from simple, joyful connection, she would take it. Marisa led him into the small bedroom lit only by a nightlight coming from the connecting bathroom. When she drew him inside and turned toward him, he cupped her face in both hands and asked, “Are you sure this is what you want?” She nodded. “Yes.” His gaze burned with a male intensity that stirred a recurring fear. Would Jake, like Alec, make love to her and then… Leave her. He drew her near, his touch gentle as his fingers glided over her arms and up to her shoulders. He squeezed, his touch full of strength and yet tenderness. “I’m not Alec.” “I know.” “Then take me how you want me. As fast or as slow. You’re in control.” He winked and smiled. “Do with me what you will.” Freedom burst loose inside her. No man had ever relinquished his sexuality to her this way until now. Marisa’s heart thumped faster, her breath coming quicker as she contemplated his body. She clasped the bottom of his shirt and slipped it upward until she could draw it over his head. Her hands glided over his wide shoulders and down to the hard muscled pecs. She closed her eyes and savored the sensations under her fingers of hard steel covered by smooth skin and just enough hair to add to his masculine allure. She drew in a deep breath and caught his musky scent, and it sent her hormones into overdrive. Her fingers glided over the hills and valleys of his rippling stomach muscles. His breath sucked in, and she smiled. She could lose herself in his sinew, his strength, the leashed power she knew instinctively he held in reserve. And how could she forget he’d vowed to protect

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her? Independent woman or not, a feral, primal code within her demanded that she take his protection. It started a craving of such magnitude she forgot everything, all fears and doubts dissolved under the sexual promise. Before he could move, her hands went to his waistband. She quickly worked until she revealed his black briefs. He remained still, allowing her to take command. She’d never expected that, but it gave her a heady power that added to the crazy arousal spiraling to every inch of her skin. When she shoved his pants and briefs down over his ass and cupped his erection, he groaned. “Jake, I want you now.” “Take me any way you want me. It’s all for you,” he said huskily. With hungry curiosity she drew his cock into her palm. He moaned softly and tilted his head back, breathing in deep and slow. Even in the dim light, she saw Jake’s length thicken and grow harder under her touch. His size made her mouth water in anticipation, aching to experience him inside her. She teased him, palming lightly over his cock as she leaned in to taste his lips with a fleeting brush. She could hear his breathing and how it quickened, and loved she could arouse desire within him. But she had more to show him, more to experience. He opened his eyes as Marisa backed away. She slipped her T-shirt over her head and tossed it aside, and allowed her already unfastened bra to fall from her shoulders onto the floor. He licked his lips and gazed into her eyes with a hungry male appreciation. Marisa couldn’t believe her own boldness after so much hesitation, and yet she understood it as she watched his reaction to her naked torso. She wanted appreciation. Wanted physical connection, wanted to enjoy the heady sense of rightness this encounter would bring. Her heart pounded as she removed her athletic shoes and socks, then worked to discard her jeans and panties. When she stood there naked, his gaze burned her but he didn’t move. “Beautiful.” She saw and felt his sincerity, and it drew a smile to her lips. “Thank you.’ She went to her dresser and took off her earrings, placing them on the jewelry box. She slipped off the chunky ring on her right hand and placed it alongside the earrings.

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Jake came to stand behind her, and when she placed her glasses down on the dresser, she stared into the mirror. She couldn’t see much, but she didn’t care. His hands came to her waist and when he pulled her back into his hard body, she groaned in delicious anticipation. An ache had stared high up in her pussy, and she wanted it fulfilled now. She wanted it faster, quicker, more than she’d wanted anything before. All her inhibitions started to fall, second by second by second. “Jake?” He encircled her waist and brought her full against him. His cock lay like a long hot ridge against her lower back. He nuzzled her left ear. “Mmm?” “I want you now.” “How do you want me?” he asked softly as he flicked her earlobe with his tongue. She shivered. “Inside me.” “Now?” “This minute.” Marisa clasped his arms and smiled. She wriggled her ass against him and he moaned. He laughed and released her from his arms. He reached into his jeans pocket and fished a condom out of his wallet. They didn’t speak of it, and within a few moments he’d sheathed his cock with protection. Marisa kept her place at the mirror. When he returned, she felt his hot, big hand cup her ass. Before she could speak, he returned to cradling her back against his body. One hand slipped up to cup her left breast while the other cupped her mons. He widened his stance and the smooth tip of his penis slipped between the open V of her thighs and the heat of his cock teased her. She gasped, startled and yet wanting it now. Now. Now. A soft, rumbling male growl came to her ears and it turned her on like nothing else she’d heard. She forgot everything but the need to push back, to aid penetration. But he didn’t, moving his hips back to keep her from taking his thickness. She made a soft sound of frustration. His fingers worked toward her nipple, fingers clamping possessively over the tender flesh and tweaking and twisting. She writhed against the wonderful sensation.

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She wriggled. She squirmed as the hand pressing her back against him explored between her legs. His thumb probed and smoothed over her clit. Oh yes. There. There. His breath gusted hot on her neck. She could hear his desire, feel it in the rock hardness of his body. He slipped his fingers down between her labia and stroked. He circled her clit, teasing it as it throbbed into life. She whimpered. She wanted to scream in frustration, her arousal so high and quick. He explored, drawing her wetness up and over her clit again and again, circling and flicking. Jake tugged her nipple again. Desperately she arched into his strength and potency. As he slowly sank two fingers deep into her, she couldn’t take it anymore. She twisted against him as she exploded, a hoarse cry wringing from her throat. Nothing existed but her body and his, a hail of sensation as inner contractions pulsed over the fingers buried inside her. Sensations too sharp to be withstood wracked her body. Finally she stopped trembling and gasping as she searched for a semblance of control. “God, that was beautiful,” he gasped into her ear. “Please, Jake, do it now.” With one sure, steady push, he sank into her. As he thrust, she groaned with the sheer pleasure of having him sink all the way to the hilt. She stretched around his thickness, closing her eyes as she felt the hard intruder impale with a steady, though gentle entrance. He withdrew and thrust hard. She gasped as he brushed against a spot inside her that sent pinwheels of sharp pleasure arching through her. She didn’t think she could climax again. She expected him to thrust hard, but he drew out slowly, then entered with a deep, steady caress. Again he stroked outward, then pushed so slowly, so very slowly. Every inward movement forced her toward a tension that tingled and threatened, the madness of lust enveloping her. “Oh, man,” he gasped. “Sweetheart, you’re so tight.” He groaned, the way his body shivered making her heady with power.

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Her body clamped down on his brutally hot thickness. She squirmed on his cock, wanting him to move harder and faster. Slick with arousal, she felt her body open wider, swallowing him deep as he began a slow glide, a retreat and plunge rhythm. Jake’s fingers tormented her flesh, smoothing over her clit, flicking her nipple with strokes so breathtaking she couldn’t keep the screaming need from building high and fast. Within seconds her body twisted against his, and she couldn’t withhold a whimper. His breath came fast, his groans of satisfaction and lush appreciation echoing in her ears. But still he wouldn’t move faster, wouldn’t force her toward a finish. Her flesh trembled and caressed, learning him in the most intimate fashion. She wanted him fiercely, but he teased her, taking the movements slow and deep and moving with a slick thrust and retreat that asked for complete surrender. She gave it. With a whimpering scream she came violently, clamping and releasing with deep, shuddering throbs. She shook and sobbed in delight, and he picked up the pace. Each deep plunge inside her body created a firestorm of new sensations. She widened her stance to take more of him inside. Within seconds another orgasm demanded fulfillment, and she shivered and quaked through the delicious burst of pleasure. Within seconds he pounded toward his own release, a guttural shout leaving his throat as he plunged one more time and rested against her. “There’s more where that came from,” he said as his breathing returned to normal. He turned her in his arms and their gazes locked in the dim light. His still held a light of supreme desire, as if he hadn’t just expended all this lust within her. She shook, realizing more than ever she wanted him within her again, plunging out his sexual cravings, showing all his desires in another explosive encounter. She heaved a deep sigh, and he smiled. “Don’t go away,” he said and retreated to the bathroom. He came back moments later. He led her to the bed and settled her on the edge. As he got down on his knees and parted her thighs, she lay back and closed her eyes. She blanked her mind, something she hadn’t accomplished during sex in what seemed a millennium. His warm lips touched her

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clit, and a soft gasp left her throat. His tongue followed, rasping over her clit in a quick, hot lick. She moaned. Without hesitation he drove her upward, his tongue spearing between her pussy lips, dipping in and out with slow, exploratory tastes that seared her. He gently inserted two fingers deep into her, his thrusts slow and delicious. She couldn’t stop the moans, or the sheer delight filling her as his tongue settled on her clit and his fingers worked her into a swift arousal. She squirmed in delight as screaming pleasure lifted her upward. Marisa grabbed the bedspread, scrunching it in her fists. She moaned uncontrollably. His tongue danced over her flesh, swamping her with bliss. His lips settled on her clit and he sucked. She gasped as the combo of his fingers thrusting and his mouth feasting sent her into a crashing orgasm. She shrieked as pleasure burst high and hot. She came down from the pleasure slowly. “God, that was,” she managed to gasp the words, “wonderful.” Jake loved hearing her come, loved bringing her to an all-out orgasm. Everything inside him gloried in the primal masculine feelings rising faster and faster. She stood and drew down the bedspread, then lay atop the sheets. A curl of heat exploded in his loins. Renewed desire flooded his body, stiffening his muscles and hardening his cock. “Darlin’, I hope you have some more condoms, because all I had was that one,” he said with a sardonic tone. “More? I have a whole darned box.” Her voice was deeper, filled with a sultry hunger that whispered along his skin. She rolled over and opened a drawer on the bedside table. She drew out a box and placed it on the bedside table. “Think these will be enough?” He grinned, feeling damned potent. “Well, I dunno. The way I’m feeling right now we might need to run out and buy another box before the night is over.” She laughed. His breath quickened as he settled on the bed beside her. Her arms came around his neck. As he skimmed his hand over her side, she shivered. “Cold?” he asked. “No. Turned on.”

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Gratified by her eagerness to be with him, he also felt an acute awareness that she might change her mind about what they’d done. “Tell me,” he said, “are we just doing this for tonight?” He heard the doubt in his voice and regretted his sharp jump into the subject. Her hands slid down until they cupped his biceps. “I’m worried that you think that. Isn’t that what your original goal was? To sleep with me once and get me out of your system?” He swallowed hard. Fuck. He couldn’t afford to be coy with her. “Yeah. Originally. But it wasn’t because I didn’t already have feelings for you.” He had to get this out in the open now before she misunderstood his true intentions. “From the first time I met you I started to have feelings for you. I know people would say that was too soon and all I was feeling was lust. But hell, every time I’m near you it just gets stronger and stronger. That can’t just be lust.” Her fingers slipped over his erection, and he gasped. Jesus that felt like heaven, and a full-blown primitive desire to possess her dictated his next move. He reached for the box of condoms, ripped it open and sheathed his erection in record time. He was shaking with desire, a wild imperative to fuck her surging like lightning through his body. Before Marisa could make a sound, he mounted her. He lowered his hips between her thighs and found his way home, driving his cock between her slick folds and deep into her tight pussy. She gasped, and he immediately withdrew. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, worried. Her hips arched upwards and her pussy bumped his cock. “No.” With total relief he complied, once more surging into her in a hard thrust. She groaned again, and he echoed it with his own moan of pure ball-busting pleasure. Oh, Christ, that feels so damned good. Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, he started a driving, hard pumping. Her pussy clasped him tightly, the caress of her flesh starting a gathering leap to the finish. He rutted against her like a beast, spurred on as she wrapped her legs around his hips and held on tightly, arching and gasping for breath. He hammered deep within her, bucking

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like a wild man. But he’d be damned if he’d climax without her. Struggling for control, he reached between them and pressed his fingers against her clit. She came with a scream, her body shivering and quaking. Forcing his hands under her hips, he held her as he lost it, driven by blind urgency. The tension became too much, the sounds of wet sex, friction scalding him inside. Her hands grabbed his ass and held on, then she did the one thing he didn’t expect and it decimated his control. She slipped a finger between his butt cheeks and the intimate touch splintered him into a million pieces. He came, hoarse cries tearing from his throat, unable to think as the orgasm drove him into heaven. This was more than simple pleasure, the most powerful, wrenching experience of his life. She screamed again, and he felt her convulsing around him. Her breath came in quick little pants as she came down from the orgasm, but as he continued to move inside her, the excitement dawned in her face. He braced on his palms and powered into her, determined to wrench another orgasm from her. Her hips surged frantically, and then Marisa whimpered low in her throat as climax wracked her body. In the aftermath she lay under him, and he quickly gathered her within his arms. He realized, as she sighed and snuggled into him, that maybe he’d never understood true desire, true love until this moment. His heart expanded, glowed with sensations he’d never comprehended until he’d experienced this connection with Marisa. And as he smiled and his arms tightened around her, he reveled in the beauty he’d discovered with her here and now. Life didn’t get any better than this. Not even tramping through a jungle to rescue tourists, fighting tangos in the desert. None of it meant anything in the face of what he must acknowledge. He was falling for her.

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Chapter Eight Jake’s arms stayed tucked securely around Marisa as they lay in her bed, and she snuggled her ass back against his hips. She smiled. Mmm, that felt nice. So delicious and warm and…hard. The clock read three o’clock in the morning. She would be damn tired in the morning, but what the hey. Nothing felt better then lying in his arms, awake because her thoughts ran in several directions. Tears surged into her eyes, emotions flowing so strong and swift she couldn’t identify them all. She lay there, reveling in the moment and trying to calm down. Despite her exhaustion, what happened between her and Jake wouldn’t relinquish its hold on her mind. Was their time together, despite his assurance, doomed to end? Hell, that’s what you wanted. Right? She wanted him again, but three times in one night had left her a little sore. She left his arms slowly, afraid he’d awaken. When he didn’t and simply turned over on his side, she smiled. She knew the perfect way to clear her mind and calm down. Numbers. She’d go to her uncle’s office and crunch a few equations. She slipped into a pair of sweatpants and tugged a tank top over her head. She found a pair of socks and put on her athletic shoes, then snatched up a small flashlight she stored in a drawer in the kitchen. She crept around quietly. No need to awaken Jake just because she couldn’t find slumber. She left the apartment and headed downstairs to her uncle’s office. This shouldn’t take long. Despite her love for numbers, nothing numbed her mind more in the middle of the night and destroyed insomnia for her. Just as she opened her uncle’s office and stepped inside, she saw a small light dancing around the office as if in search of something. A dark figure straightened behind the desk. She gasped. A click sounded and the glow of the penlight revealed a big gun pointed right at her. “Don’t move,” the voice hissed low. “Or I’ll shoot.” www.samhainpublishing.com

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Every muscle in her body stiffened as she froze to the spot. Her heart banged furiously in her chest, her breathing coming fast as horror launched full speed inside her. God, she couldn’t end this way. Jake. God, Jake. Please help me. But Jake slept upstairs, oblivious. She’d have to extract herself from of this mess, or not escape at all. “Who are you?” she forced the question through a throat tight and dry with tension. “Turn on the light.” She reached out and did as told. A woman stood behind her uncle’s desk, her black hair full and thick, falling over her shoulders like a cascade of night. She must have been beautiful once, but her hair looked dull, dry and her skin so pale the contrast against her hair looked sickly rather than striking. The woman’s pretty face could still launch a thousand ships, but her flashing brown eyes were cold. She wore a thick blue coat, out of context with the summer heat. Her long fingernails were cracked and there was dirt under them. “Where is it?” the woman asked, her true voice melodious and deep for a woman. “Where is what?” Marisa’s stomach clenched, and nausea surged inside her. “My necklace. I left it here and I’ve gotta have it. I need it. It holds my heart.” “Necklace?” “Yeah. I have to have it or the pain will never go away.” Whoever this woman was, she was nuttier than the Mad Hatter, and Marisa saw the sharp, raw desperation within the woman’s glassy eyes. The woman’s fingers clenched on the gun, then she turned off the penlight and stuck it in her coat pocket. “Okay,” Marisa said. “I’ll help you find the necklace if you put the weapon down.” “No, you’ll sit in that chair.” The woman’s hand shook, and so did the gun. She pointed toward a chair near the desk. “And you’ll tell me where the necklace is, or I’ll have to hurt you.” The woman’s eyes sharpened into solid ice. Sweat beaded the woman’s upper lip. Marisa had no reason to doubt the lady’s seriousness. “Okay, no problem.”

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In a flash of revelation, she guessed the woman’s identity. Annie Stratiev, the accountant Uncle Dexter had fired several weeks back. Her mental state gave evidence that any wrong movement, anything could create a bad reaction in her already unstable mindset. Marisa drew in a deep breath and tried to control her racing heart as she sat in the chair. “Don’t you want me to help you find the necklace?” “You’ll just lie to me like everyone does. My family. The doctors. Everyone. Maybe you should just die and get out of my way.” Though the woman’s icy statement filled Marisa with dread, she said, “Annie, have you called here and threatened to kill Dexter and me?” “Yeah. Because you’re keeping my necklace.” Marisa thought quickly. “In the necklace is your heart? Is it a locket?” “Yes.” Annie’s face crumpled, and great sobs wracked her body. She lowered her weapon, and Marisa’s heart slowed to a more regular pace. Maybe, just maybe, she’d make it out of this situation in one piece if she remained calm. “I’m so sorry, Annie, that you’re sad. Tell me more, about the necklace and your heart.” Annie grimaced and the tears came harder, her face screwed up in a mental anguish that pierced Marisa’s soul in a way she wouldn’t have expected. “I started taking those damned pills five years ago when my baby died,” Annie said. “After that the truth was fogged and I couldn’t see straight any longer. Don’t you see those doctors stole my heart too?” Marisa’s soul clenched in sympathetic pain. “You lost a baby?” “Yes.” “How…” Marisa swallowed, aching for the woman. “Boy or girl?” “I don’t know. It wasn’t…we didn’t know yet. And then my husband left me and everything came crashing down.”

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Marisa couldn’t have felt the pain any deeper than if it had been her own. Right then she understood what she needed to say to Annie…what she wanted to say. “I lost a baby too. I was only a few weeks pregnant. I never knew the sex of my baby.” Annie stared at Marisa and Marisa saw humanity within the woman’s gaze, a pain that had torn her apart. “When? When did your baby die?” “Three years ago. My fiancé died in Iraq and then I lost the baby when I found out.” Tears welled in Marisa’s eyes, and she drew a shuddering breath. “So you see, I understand how your heart was lost.” “Oh, God.” Annie’s tears came harder. Marisa’s fingers tightened on the arms of the chair, still uncertain what Annie might do. Annie nodded. “Those fucking doctors gave me those pills because they said I was nuts. I’m not nuts.” Annie’s tone went louder. “I’m not nuts. I’m just confused.” Frustration ate away at Marisa, but she calmed her impatience. She’d talk her way out of this situation one way or the other and get this woman professional help. More anguish poured from Annie’s eyes and Marisa allowed her own tears to wend a watery path down her cheeks. Let Annie see what she felt, and maybe, in some weird way, it would wash them both clean of pain. “My necklace is shaped like a heart.” Annie clenched her fist and shook it at Marisa. “The day Dexter fired me was the anniversary of my husband leaving me and my baby’s death. I lost the necklace somehow.” “Oh, God,” Marisa said, the ache inside her accumulating power. “God, I’m so sorry. Uncle Dexter didn’t know that, I swear it.” Annie nodded, and Marisa hoped the woman would calm enough that she could get the gun away from her. “I want that necklace. I want it now.” “Annie, I swear I haven’t seen it, but I’ll do my best to help you locate it. The gun is scaring me, though. Can we get rid of it?” To Marisa’s utter amazement, the woman laid the gun on the desk.

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Another deep breath managed to make its way into Marisa’s lungs, then she said calmly. “If I’m going to help you find it, I have to leave the chair, right?” “Yes. Stand up.” Marisa obeyed. Annie’s eyes seemed to clear, as if her sanity glimmered fresh in her gaze, opening her mind. “Can you help me? “Of course. May I come closer?” Annie nodded. “May I have the gun?” Marisa asked. Annie’s head bobbed again, and with tension crawling up her back, Marisa reached for the gun. When Marisa’s fingers clutched around the gun, she breathed a sigh of relief. She backed a safe distance away from the other woman. “Thank you, Annie.” Annie gasped, as if startled, her gaze darting toward the doorway. Marisa looked around. Jake stood there, weapon in hand, but pointed down at the ground and resting along his right thigh. His gaze was hard, not the least sympathetic toward the woman’s tears. “Jake,” Marisa said, relief filling her in a dizzying wave. “Are you are all right?” he asked. “I’m fine. Annie was just telling me about her plight. I think we can help her.” Jake stepped forward, wariness firm in his eyes. “I heard the whole story.” He tucked his weapon in the back waistband of his jeans. Then he held his hand out to Marisa. “I’ll hold on to the other weapon while you both search for the necklace.” Marisa handed him the gun and started searching the office for anywhere the other woman may have misplaced the jewelry. Less than five minutes later, flashing lights danced over the windows, and Marisa glanced at Jake. He shook his head slowly, and she got the message. He didn’t say a word as he left the office. Marisa heard him opening the door and talking with someone. Moments later two police officers, a man and a woman, entered the office.

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Annie glanced up, her face alighting with genuine happiness as she pulled the necklace from a drawer. “Here it is. I found it. I found my heart! It was stuck in this crevice. I’d taken it off and forgotten it.” Annie’s expression fell when she saw the police. “Are they here to take my heart from me?” Annie’s tears rained again, and Marisa couldn’t take it. “No. No. They’re here to help you. No one can ever take your heart from you, Annie.” She stepped forward, and then Annie collapsed into Marisa’s arms, sobs wracking her thin body. Marisa held the woman, tears raining down her cheeks as sharp understanding and distress pierced Marisa to the core. “It’s all right, Annie. It’s all right,” Marisa whispered as she caressed the woman’s hair and closed her eyes against the sorrow that staggered her from the core of her being. “Ma’am,” the male officer whose nametag read Winslow said, “we can take her now. Annie’s visited with us before and knows us well. We’ll take care of her.” Annie pulled from Marisa’s arms, but now her smile sparkled, genuine and happy, and tears drying fast on her cheeks. “They’re always good to me. I’ll go with them now. I’m sorry I scared you. So sorry.” Marisa’s throat tightened, and she couldn’t speak. Annie walked away with Winslow, and Jake handed the female cop the weapon Annie had brought in with her. The female officer turned to Marisa and Jake. “You can press charges of course.” “No,” Marisa said. “No, I won’t. She’s…I don’t think she ever meant us any real harm.” Grant looked skeptical. “She held a weapon on you.” Marisa put a hand to her aching throat. “I know. But I don’t think she’ll ever do it again. She found what she came looking for.” The cop left shortly after obtaining their full statement. When the cops left with Annie in their car, Jake wandered toward Marisa. He pulled the weapon out of his waistband and laid it on the desk.

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Without a word, he drew her into his arms and hugged her. Silence enveloped her while tears returned and soaked his bare chest. “I don’t…I don’t understand why I’m bawling like this,” she said, clasping him about the waist and holding on to him as if he was a lifeline. “Fear maybe? She scared you, didn’t she? I saw…” He cleared his throat. “When I woke up and heard voices, I came downstairs. When I reached the doorway and heard the conversation you were having with her, I peeked around the corner and saw her holding the weapon on you.” Jake tilted her head back so he could see her. “It scared the shit out of me, Marisa.” “Me, too. And then she told me about her husband and baby.” Marisa quivered, and he placed a tender kiss on her forehead and proceeded to kiss away her tears. She gave him a watery smile. “And you didn’t turn all Rambo on the situation.” “You had it under control. I didn’t need to.” She smoothed her hands upward until she encircled his neck. “I was so scared. I…when she had that gun pointed at me I wondered if earlier tonight was all I would have with you.” His lips, so close to hers, whispered low, “You were damned good with her. Damned good. But if you ever scare me like that again…” She made a small, indignant noise. “If I scare you? What did I do?” He kissed her lips this time, a tender, sweet touch. “When I saw that damned gun pointed at you…I would face down a hundred insurgents in Iraq and wouldn’t know half the fear I felt right then.” His eyes glimmered with emotion. “There’s something it made me realize.” “What is it?” “I don’t care if we haven’t known each other long. I just know I’ve never felt this for any other woman. I love you, Marisa. I love you so much.” As she sank closer into his arms, hugging him tightly, tears of joy wiped away those of sadness. “I love you, too, Jake.”

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*** “You’re staying in Clarksville a little longer, Marisa?” Uncle Dexter grinned at Jake and Marisa, and she enjoyed the delight in her uncle’s voice as he leaned across the tavern table. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in days. Including that you have my accounting records in order.” “Well, that and our engagement, I hope,” Marisa said as Jake touched her thigh under the table. She shivered at his intimate touch. “Of course, darling,” Uncle Dexter said. “Hell, I always knew something was between you and Jake.” She didn’t try and deny it. Marisa and Jake had announced their engagement the day after Annie had invaded the tavern. Now, three days later, the whole town knew not only about Annie’s late night raid on the tavern, but about the engagement too. The beautifully engraved Celtic design titanium and yellow gold bands they’d picked out at a local jeweler added to the rumors. They wouldn’t wear the bands until they married, but hell, word exploded within a few hours that Jake and Marisa had purchased them. They’d learned from the police department that Annie had kept an extra key to the building, something Uncle Dexter had no idea she’d done. After Dexter had fired her she’d wandered in and out of homeless shelters even though she had a home, unable to work or function when she’d had a psychotic break. “When’s the date for the wedding?” Dexter said after he sipped his beer. “A December wedding,” Jake said. “Here, in Clarksville.” Uncle Dexter pounded Jake on the back. “Excellent idea, boy. I love it.” Jake’s grin went ear to ear, and she noticed he’d smiled more in the last few days than she’d ever seen him grin. “We’re going over to see Annie’s lawyer in a bit. To make sure she’s being taken care of,” Marisa said.

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Uncle Dexter frowned. “Damn it, girl. I’m so sorry about her and that necklace. When I fired her I knew something was wrong with the woman, but didn’t know exactly what. She’d never told me about her past.” “I know,” Marisa said. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen.” Uncle Dexter soon left them to their drinks and the coziness of their corner table. Jake whispered in her ear. “Want to go upstairs, soon-to-be Mrs. Sullivan?” She gasped as his fingers played with the hair cascading around her shoulders. “How do you know I’m changing my name?” “If you don’t want to change your last name, it’s fine with me. I’ll take you any way I can get you.” She feathered a kiss across his mouth. “Thank you, Jake.” He smiled into her eyes. “For what?” “For being everything I thought you were, and so much more.” He smoothed his hand over her shoulder. “Why shucks, ma’am. I’m just a modest farm boy.” “Right. You’re only the most delicious, gorgeous, sexiest hunk I’ve ever known.” His eyes flared with hunger, and he leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Talk dirty to me like that again, and you might get thrown over my shoulder and hauled off to your bedroom.” His voice purred lower, deeper. “And then I’m going to make love to you.” Wild shivers of arousal coasted over her skin and deep into her belly. “Oh, please. Please do.” Her heart already pounded with anticipation. It didn’t take long for them to scamper upstairs after the tavern closed for the evening. Clothes came off right inside the door of her apartment. Marisa fell to the bed with Jake alongside. Tongues tangled, hands caressed, and when he sank his cock deep inside her and his hips moved, her body clenched in fast, hard orgasm. A few short, ramming thrusts later and he quaked in climax.

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Panting, they lay in each other’s arms, and Marisa knew she’d never feel anything more amazing than making love with him. He rolled her over on her back and looked down at her, his eyes deadly serious. “Marisa, there’s something I have to know.” A little alarmed, she asked, “What is it?” “You know I’m not anything like your ex, right? That I won’t leave you pregnant and—” She pressed her fingers over his mouth. “Hush. I understand that. And the condom broke on Alec and me. That’s how I got pregnant. But I want to have your babies.” His eyes sparked. “Ah, Jesus. Now I know you’re serious about me.” “Oh, I’m more than serious. I’m in this for a lifetime.” As he gathered her close for another soul-searing kiss, Marisa knew she’d learned valuable lessons. Finding true love was not only possible, but the greatest thing life could offer. Healing could emerge from the most unexpected places, as it had with her encounter with Annie. She’d helped Annie and Annie helped her to see what she’d refused to acknowledge about her own grief. As she drew back to smile at him, she understood one thing clearer than any other. Jake had rescued her, but no more than she’d rescued him. For an eternity, this soldier had her back, and she had his.

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About the Author Romantic Times Book Review Magazine calls Denise A. Agnew’s novels “topnotch” and she’s received a TOP PICK. Denise’s record proves that with paranormal, time travel, romantic comedy, contemporary, historical, erotic romance, and romantic suspense novels under her belt, she enjoys writing about a diverse range of subjects. Her experiences with archaeology and archery have crept into her work. Denise lives in Sierra Vista, Arizona with her real life hero, her husband. Check out her website at www.deniseagnew.com for contest opportunities and to sign up for her chat loop and newsletter.

Look for these titles by Denise A. Agnew Now Available: Male Call Unconditional Surrender

Coming Soon: Close Quarters

She wants the adventure of a lifetime and isn’t willing to sacrifice it for any man… All he wants is to keep the girl he loved and lost safe, even if she hates him for it…

Unconditional Surrender © 2007 Denise A. Agnew Archaeologist Fredricka “Freddie” Bodine returns to her hometown for her twentieth high school reunion, unaware that her old crush, Keith Wallace, has blown back into town. One memory is etched deeply on her brain—the high school prom where she shared a single, emotionally revealing dance with him. They’d both left town after graduation, feelings unresolved and teen angst firmly in place. Keith doesn’t want her to travel to Los Diablos, a lawless area he’s visited during Special Forces ops, and the place where his sister was killed years ago. As they grapple with family pressures and the exploding passion between them, their battle of wills may just lead them to the truth living in both their hearts.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Unconditional Surrender: Oh, she’d been stupid. She hadn’t thought past the end of her nose. “My God. I understand now. You weren’t in the desert on your last tour, you were in Mexico.” “No, I was in Iraq. But you know that intuition I had as a kid? It’s screaming that it isn’t a good idea for you to go to Los Diablos.” At first she wanted to take in his caution, a rising anxiety making her vulnerable to fear. “Arnold wouldn’t set up a tour if it was dangerous.” “Yeah, I think he would. He told me he’d checked out reports and heard nothing about extraneous danger. I told him to call a guy I know at the embassy down there.” He shifted closer, his eyes serious and dark with emotion. “Do you think I’d lie to you about something like this?” “No. No, I don’t think you’re lying about what you feel. But I’m a scientist, Keith. Intuition is all well and good, but when it comes down to it, I need more than a passing gut feeling that Los Diablos might be dangerous.” She sighed. “Are you sure this isn’t because of what happened to your sister?” She saw him wince, and then anger flashed through his eyes. “No.”

For all of a few seconds she considered his plea. Then she realized if she agreed to abandon her dream, she’d never forgive herself. She’d worked too long and hard and paid her dues. Giving up would hurt to the bone. “I’ve worked for this and come a long way. I’m not giving up my dream because something bad might happen. No one’s life ever gets lived thinking like that. If I don’t go, there will always be a part of me that would regret it. Haven’t you ever taken a risk for something you wanted?” He clasped her shoulders, then caressed gently. Desire melted in her stomach. She didn’t want him to stop touching her, even if he gazed down at her with consternation. “Do you trust me?” he asked. She didn’t need to think. She knew. “Of course. But Keith—” “A man you haven’t seen in twenty years?” She went silent. He cupped her neck, and she fell into his eyes, finding a heat there she didn’t want to ever leave. He brought her up against him. She wanted his touch, and craved his kiss. As he leaned in, she touched his hard chest. He felt so good. Solid. Reliable. “I know one damned thing for certain,” he said, his voice husky. “You’re dangerous to me.” Keith tasted Freddie’s mouth softly. Tenderness flowed through her as she fell into the moment. His tongue plunged in to take, to caress with hot intensity. Passion erupted inside her as she sank into his arms, embraced him wholeheartedly. His arms wrapped tight about her back. Her body reacted as if she’d loved him, made love to him forever. Heat burned low in her belly and pooled between her legs. She felt wet, hungry, aching to know him deep and hot. God, she wanted him. He drew back and took in deep breaths, his eyes smoldering with his intentions. His arms stayed tight around her. “That was…wow.” He grinned ruefully. She couldn’t help but smile along with him, the happiness swelling in her chest and dying to escape. “What are we doing here? Are you kissing me to convince me not to head to Mexico?” His eyes cooled. “No, damn it. Why do you think that?”

Instant regret charged through her. “Keith, what is this we’re doing? Are we starting something that…” “We can’t finish.” His expression turned somber. “That’s what you think?” She cupped his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m…this whole thing took me by surprise.” He released her. Keith traced her chin with his index finger. “Me, too. Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay?” Her heart sank, but she should have felt relief. Maybe. Otherwise she’d have to admit inside that she didn’t want to take it slow. She wanted him between her legs, pumping out his satisfaction and firing hers. She wanted him with a fierceness that stunned her. Oh, yeah. I’ve got it bad. “Come on. Let’s go back inside before one of your siblings sneaks out and sees us kissing,” he said. “In that case, let’s give them something to look at.” His eyes widened, then a slow smile broke over his lips. “You sure?” She giggled, feeling girlish despite the seriousness of their conversation a moment ago. “If I know my family, they’re probably taking a peek right now trying to see where we went.” “That nosy, eh?” “That nosy.” She slipped back into his arms, and they came together in a fresh kiss. This time Keith kept his kiss civilized, not as uncontrolled. His earlier kiss still raged inside him, a ferocious explanation for the tumult he experienced. Temptation slammed him. He wanted her. Here. Now. He wondered if she was as hot for him as he was for her. Her breasts pushed against him, warm circles he longed to cup. He wanted her hard nipples under his tongue, wanted to taste the folds between her legs. Freddie’s tongue flicked over his lips, but he pulled back. Part of him wanted her writhing in his arms. The other wanted her yearning for him, dying for it. They heard the screen door squeak from far away, and she eased from his arms. She sighed, and he wanted to hear other sounds coming from Freddie’s throat. Moans of

satisfaction, his name on her lips. His restrained his lust enough to keep his cock under control, but it wasn’t easy. He wanted her with a sword-sharp pain. Her dad walked toward them, a mischievous grin on his face. “You think he’s walking this way now to kick my ass?” Keith asked. She laughed. “No. And I don’t think he could kick your ass.” “Never underestimate the protective instincts of a father.” “Maybe I don’t need protecting. I’m a big girl, remember.” “Yeah, I can see that.” Her irreverent smile stayed with him, even after he’d left for the night.

All small towns have secrets. This one could be deadly

The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke © 2007 N.J. Walters Book 4 of Jamesville. After her father’s death, Cyndi Marks returns to Jamesville, determined to settle here and lay the ghosts of years ago to rest once and for all. But the past has a way of catching up—and hanging on. When her car breaks down outside of town, a handsome stranger stops to help. He intrigues and attracts her, but then she discovers who he is. Shamus O’Rourke enjoys his job, his family and small town living. What he’s missing is someone with whom to share it. Immediately drawn to Cyndi, he is determined to get closer to her, even as he senses her pulling away. But not everyone in Jamesville is happy to see Cyndi. People are hiding secrets. Secrets they would kill to protect. When violence erupts in her home, Cyndi turns to the only person in town she can trust—Shamus. In a situation where family loyalties are strained, Cyndi’s life is threatened and everyone is a suspect, will their emerging love survive?

Enjoy the following excerpt for: The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke Jamesville, Maine. It looked so peaceful nestled down in the valley below, but Cyndi knew that even a small town had dirty little secrets. Turning her back on the picturesque scene, she strode to the trunk of her car. She needed to keep focused on the task at hand and right now that included getting her car back on the road so she could reach her destination before dark. The sun was low in the afternoon sky, but she had an hour or so until it finally sank. Lots of time to change a flat tire and get to the lawyer’s office before it closed for the day. Unlocking her trunk, she pocketed her keys and hauled out her two suitcases, setting them beside the car. Next came her laptop, which she tucked into the backseat for safekeeping. Two boxes containing her pillows and comforter, specialty teas, and her

favorite snacks were next. She figured she’d need all the comforts she could get. She was under no illusion that the task ahead of her would be easy. Cyndi ignored the small voice in the back of her head that whispered she didn’t have to stay. She’d made her decision and she wasn’t about to back down now. It was time for her to face down the demons of her past and put them to rest once and for all. The only way to do that was to settle in Jamesville. She’d put all her belongings in storage, let the lease on her apartment lapse, and quit her job as manager of an upscale bed and breakfast. For better or worse, she was here to stay. Dragging out the jack and the spare tire, she carried them one at a time to the front of the car. The left-hand tire was as flat as a pancake. She must have picked up a nail or something. As soon as she hit town, she’d have to go to a garage and get it seen to. As she was shoving the jack beneath the car, she heard another vehicle rumbling up behind her. She scooted in front of her car, not wanting to be out in the road as the other vehicle passed. She’d pulled her car as far off the road as she could, but the shoulder wasn’t that wide and part of the vehicle was still on the pavement. A dusty, blue truck passed her, but the brake lights flashed almost immediately, and the vehicle rolled to a stop several yards up the road. Cyndi climbed back into the driver’s seat and locked all the doors. Maybe she was overreacting, but a woman on her own, on a fairly deserted stretch of road, couldn’t be too careful. She knew what Jamesville used to be like, but that was a long time ago. The whole world seemed to have changed in the intervening years. The truck door opened and a long, jean-clad leg came into view, quickly followed by another. The man who got out of the vehicle was huge, standing at least several inches over six feet. His shoulders were wide, straining the seams of his dirty, white T-shirt. The short sleeves of the shirt did nothing to hide his thick biceps and muscular forearms. His jeans were faded white at the knees and crotch area. Cyndi forced herself to look away. A stranger was coming toward her, and she was staring at his crotch. It had to be the stress she’d been under making her so loopy. Still, she did enjoy the view. His large, booted feet quickly ate up the distance between them. Cyndi reached into her purse and yanked out her phone, ready to call for help if necessary.

The man stopped beside her door, leaned down and tapped on the window. “Didn’t mean to frighten you, ma’am.” Cyndi got her first, really good look at his face and it started her heart pounding, but not from fear. The man was gorgeous, in a rough sort of way. His thick, molasses-brown hair was tied back at the nape, falling just below his shoulders. His face was all sharp angles and planes; his nose was large, but somehow suited his face. Eyebrows the same color as his hair were straight slashes above a pair of concerned, blue-gray eyes, eyes the same color as the sky just before a storm. “Ma’am?” She heard his voice through the glass and realized she was sitting there like a fool simply staring at him. Quickly she rolled the window down, but just a crack. “I’m sorry. What did you say?” He tilted his head to one side, staring at her. Cyndi knew she looked a mess. She’d been traveling for hours, and the past few weeks had been extremely stressful. She knew she had dark circles under her eyes and wasn’t wearing any makeup, save her clear lip balm. Her days of dressing to please other people were long over. “I said that I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He smiled then, a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth, but the effect was devastating. Butterflies danced in her stomach and she felt a throbbing between her thighs. She shook her head, desperately trying to fight the unwanted burst of physical attraction. She was thirty-nine years old, for heaven’s sake, long past the stage of being ruled by her hormones. And he looked to be at least ten years younger than her. “A woman alone can’t be too careful these days.” His words echoed her earlier thoughts. “You stay put in the car and I’ll take care of that flat tire for you.” “No,” she snapped. Realizing what she’d done, she softened her tone. After all, it wasn’t his fault she was attracted to him. All he’d done was stop and offer to help. “That’s fine. I’ll take care of it myself.” He scrubbed his hand across his jaw and her eyes followed the action. She could see the five o’clock shadow on his chin. It made him appear even sexier, if that was possible.

There was something elemental about this man. Even dressed in old work boots, faded jeans and a dirty T-shirt, there was an air of barely restrained power about him. “I figured you could handle the problem on your own, ma’am, but there’s no need for that now that I’m here.” Was he for real? She guessed so when he turned on his heel and crouched down by the front tire. Within seconds, the front of the car was raised and he was using the tire iron to loosen the lug nuts.

Something’s hot in Seattle, and it’s not just the espresso.

Dangerous Grounds © 2007 Shelli Stevens Madison’s needs are simple. All she wants are two things: Make Ooo La Latté the newest trend in espresso, and seduce the sexiest cop in Seattle. But things aren’t going exactly as planned. First, Gabe’s a little hung up on the fact that she’s his best friend’s little sister, and he’s determined to keep his hands off. Second, her shop gets robbed by the increasingly violent Espresso Bandit, and now she’s the only one who can identify him. Gabe whisks her into hiding for her own protection, but soon finds his heart is under assault by the luscious—and persistent—Madison. But no matter where they hide, danger follows. On such dangerous grounds, the trick will be to live long enough to keep the flame alive.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Dangerous Grounds: Gabe watched her go and gave a weary sigh. She seemed to be up to something, but the hell if he knew what. And maybe he didn’t want to. He did know that it was ten at night and he had to be at work in eight hours. He reviewed tomorrow’s schedule again in his head. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been given the okay to guard Madison when she went to work tomorrow. Another officer had been assigned to watch over her shop during the day. The thought of it pissed him off. Round-the-clock protection had been suggested for Maddie. They had felt confident in Gabe’s ability to keep her safe at night, but tomorrow she’d be in somebody else’s care. Damn. She should just close up shop until they caught the Espresso Bandit. Even as he thought it, he knew the idea was ridiculous. Maddie would never do it. She wouldn’t let herself be intimidated. He wouldn’t do it either, if he were in her shoes. “Hey...”

Gabe glanced up and his breath locked in his throat. Jesus. What was she trying to do to him? Her bare feet padded across the room toward him as the silk robe she wore swayed around her calves. She sank down on the sofa next to him, curling her legs under her bottom. “You wanted to talk?” He just managed to get the words out. “I do.” She gave him a slight smile. “I want to apologize for pressuring you into bed with me. You’ve been so great the past two days and all I’ve been doing is acting like a sex-starved nympho.” “Are you?” The words were out before he could stop them. “Maybe,” she admitted with a smile and shrugged. “But forget it. I just wanted to say sorry...and give you a kiss goodnight.” “Ah,” he murmured as his gaze fell to her lips. Warning bells were ringing like crazy in his head. Just a kiss? It was never just a kiss. “Come on, Gabe. Just one.” She leaned forward, her hair falling in a curtain around her face, her lips just above his. That kiss was beginning to sound pretty damn good. His hands circled her satincovered waist and dragged her toward him. He slid one hand up to tangle in her hair. “Just a kiss,” he repeated and then she covered his mouth with hers. Her mouth rubbed against his in a light caress, retreating and returning many times until he couldn’t take it any longer. His tongue thrust between her lips, stroking over her teeth and into the moist interior of her mouth. She sighed and angled her head against him, bringing him deeper. She tasted of mint, cool and sweet like she’d just brushed her teeth or eaten a mint. She grabbed the back of his neck and wrapped her tongue around his, sucking in a steady rhythm. God, he thought, the things she could do with that mouth. He groaned and started to reach for the belt of her robe, then froze. Self-control, get some. He repeated the mantra in his head several times until it returned. “Okay.” He lifted his lips from hers and whispered, “There’s your one kiss.” “You mean you want to stop?”

Gabe nodded and waited for her to get ultra pissed off again. Instead she surprised him by laughing in amusement. “Well.” Her lips brushed against his one more time. “I guess we’ll just have to do this the other way.” Her words registered just as he heard an all-too-familiar clicking sound. He tried to push her back, but it was already too late. She had one of his wrists handcuffed and just finished securing the other cuff to the lamppost by the couch. Where the hell had she hidden the cuffs in that robe? “I found these in your sock drawer this morning.” She gave him a casual shrug. “Maddie.” He growled and jerked forward, forgetting she’d cuffed him. He jerked to a stop and fell back onto the couch. She’d chained him like a dog! How the hell had he let her get control? “I’m going to make you a deal, Gabe.” She sat on his lap and smoothed a hand through his hair. Even though his right hand had been restrained, his left was still free. He reached up and grasped her wrist, stilling its movements. “No. You’re going to get the key out of my dresser and let me go,” he ordered, his voice dropping an octave. He knew he’d made her reconsider, because she swallowed hard and, for just a second, looked hesitant. Then she shook her head, and pried her wrist free. “Like I said. I’ll make you a deal.” She climbed off his lap, as if sensing she’d be safer further away from him. She was right. “For the next half-hour or so I’m going to...entertain you. When I’m done, you can either tell me to go to bed, or you can fuck my brains out. I’m hoping for the latter.”

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