What the hell? He had to be seeing things. SEAL Lieutenant
Jake Ramsey froze as he climbed out of his rented red Jeep
Wrangler. He'd just parked at the Pentagon, ordered here for
an appointment with U.S. Army General Stevenson. He had no
idea what this meeting entailed. It was top secret.
His heart thudded in his chest as he stared one row of cars
up. A Marine Captain emerged from her black SUV. Jake
removed his wraparound sunglasses, remaining motionless,
watching her pull her black leather purse over the left
shoulder. The gesture was all too familiar to him.
She wore her khaki summer uniform short-sleeved blouse along
with dark green gabardine trousers that emphasized her long
legs. In short-heeled, polished black pumps, she was all
spit and polish. Morgan Bo-land had an hourglass figure, and
though her clothes fitted her comfortably, Jake knew how
beautiful she was without any clothes at all.
His mouth tightened. What the hell was Morgan Boland doing here?
Stunned, Jake wrestled with a lot of old feelings leaping to
life within him. Oh, he remembered tunneling his fingers
through that mass of silky red hair now softly framing her
oval face and stubborn chin. The strands curled slightly
across her proud shoulders. She hadn't seen himβyet.
Two years ago they'd met in the Hindu Kush mountains near
the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. They'd collided
like two comets, renewing their relationship that had
started at the Naval Academy, Annapolis. His lower body
tightened in memory of those three incredible days with her
in his arms in that Afghan village. Three of the most
incredible nights of his life since⦠He ruthlessly tried to
crush the grief-stricken memories from when he was
twenty-four years old. Jake had lost his wife, Amanda, and
two-week-old baby, Joshua, in a car accident. They'd only
been married a year.
At twenty-seven, Jake had unexpectedly met Morgan once
again. And whether she ever realized it or not, she'd
salvaged his bleeding, wounded soul. Those few days had
transformed him, pulled him out of a three-year depression.
She'd breathed new life into him.
His mouth pursed, the corners pulling in as he watched her
shut the door on the SUV. The May morning's breeze was
inconstant, lifting a few gold-and-copper strands of hair
across her face. He stared with a mixture of grief and
longing as she lifted her long, expressive fingers and
pulled the strands away from her cheek.
Morgan was still hauntingly beautiful to him. His mind spun
with a hundred questions as to why she was here at the same
time he was. Jake worked to suppress those unrequited
feelings about their shared history. He'd had that impulse,
of never allowing her to escape his arms again. But she had.
And it had been his damned fault. For the second time in his
life, he'd driven Morgan away from him.
There was a file beneath her left arm. She pointed the
clicker at the SUV to lock it. Jake swallowed hard, trying
to ignore his desire. It had been a lethal attraction from
the first moment, in Annapolis, while going through the
Naval Academy. They were a powerful match in bed, but
dammit, she was bullheaded and wildly independent. She
refused to be what he wanted her to be. When they came
together in bed, it was like the Fourth of July every time.
Yet, afterward, it always descended into a heated argument,
hurtful words flying between them like bullets being fired
from an M-4 rifle.
His breath jammed in his throat as he saw her lift her head,
her green-eyed gaze meeting his. For a moment, Jake felt
like a proverbial deer paralyzed in a set of car headlights.
Her eyes narrowed. Of course, she recognized him. Her oval
face with high cheekbones and a sprinkle of pale freckles
tightened. Her mouth⦠oh, God, her mouth⦠Jake remembered
hotly covering those full lips, feeling her hungry response,
her sleek, athletic body pressed demandingly against his,
wanting him as much as he wanted her. Now that soft, full
mouth thinned with displeasure. He forced himself to hold
her gaze. Even from this distance, he could see the spark of
surprise and then anger flare in her green eyes.
What the hell were the chances of meeting Morgan two years
later, here in a damned Pentagon parking lot? Jake decided
he had to be a gentleman and walk over and say hello. He
shut the door on his Jeep, locked it and shoved the key into
a pocket of his tan Navy summer trousers. Pulling the
garrison cap from beneath his left arm, he settled it on his
head.
Jake felt as if he was going downrange into a direct action
combat mission. Born of a Navy SEAL, he walked with an easy,
natural confidence toward the only other woman in his life
who had held his heartβand he'd screwed it up both times.
Now, as he closed the distance between them, tension was
evident in her, but she was a warrior like him. Jake tried
to prepare himself. Morgan was definitely not happy to see
him. And he knew why.
"You're the last person I expected to see here in this
parking lot," he said, trying to soften his normally hard
expression. He came to a halt a few feet away from her, but
he could still see her emerald eyes flash with what he
interpreted as disgust. Or maybe, distrust. Probably both.
"Makes two of us, Ramsey."
"What business do you have here, Morgan?"
She quirked her lips. "It's top secret. How about you?"
He managed a sliver of a smile, appreciating the way the
uniform hid her breasts. He knew those breasts well, and
even now, his body hotly remembered their firm curves, too.
"Same. Where you headed?"
"The E-ring. You?"
His brows rose. "Same ring." What the hell kind of cosmic
joke was being played upon him? Jake saw confusion for a
moment in her eyes, too.
The breeze blew enough to lift strands of her red hair
across her flushed cheeks. He had the urge to lift his hand,
catch those errant strands with his fingers and gently tuck
them behind her delicate ear as he'd done on so many other
occasions. Why the hell couldn't he erase Morgan from his
body and memory forever?
He'd been in the military since he was eighteen. He'd gone
to Annapolis and went into the Marine Corps. Later, he moved
to the U.S. Navy to become a SEAL. At twenty-nine, Jake felt
snared by a joke being pulled on him by Marine Corps god
Odin himself. The last person he ever wanted to meet again
was Morgan. And here she was: all six feet of woman warrior
who proved him wrong about her being the weaker sex.
She glanced down at the watch on her right wrist. "I've
gotta go, Ramsey." Morgan drilled him with a hard look. "And
I can't say it's been nice seeing you again."
Jake watched her turn on her heel and walk toward the main
doors of the Pentagon. It almost felt as if she'd physically
slapped him. He stood for a moment, letting her quiet rage
pass through him. It wasn't her fault, he sourly admitted.
He'd been the one to hurl the indictment that women were
weak. That they shouldn't be allowed into combat. He and
Morgan had gotten into that very argument after making love
on Christmas morning as a blizzard hit the Afghan village.
He and his SEAL team had holed up at the American-friendly
Shinwari village to wait out the coming storm. To his
everlasting surprise, Morgan had been there, too, with
another SEAL team. The SEALs operated in small four- and
eight-person fire teams throughout the Hindu Kush, rooting
out the bad guys and taking them down. He hadn't been able
to swallow his surprise or disguise his pleasure at
discovering she was there. Morgan had been assigned as a
linguist with another team on a separate black-ops mission.
Rubbing his recently shaved jaw, Jake saw her disappear
inside the building. He had just enough time to make his
appointment with General Stevenson of the U.S. Army. His
emotions, no matter how he tried, burned bright and intense
over meeting Morgan once again. She had stood out at
Annapolis from the moment he'd seen her in their plebe year.
They were in the same class, and for two years, Jake had
fought to ignore the tall, assertive redhead. Morgan was as
physically strong as most of the men going through the
four-year military program. Jake had watched her begin to
shine and bloom in her third year. She'd been at the top of
the academic list, a champion fencer on the fencing team,
and her keen intelligence had been recognized.
He quickly walked across the asphalt parking lot, in deep
thought over her. When had he fallen under her charismatic
spell at the Academy? How had it happened? Jake had
accidentally met Morgan as a third-year student at a local
civilian pizza parlor everyone frequented on Saturday
evenings. There were plenty of guys who wanted her. She'd
always been surrounded by them, but she didn't seem to care
or notice any of them. Yet, when they'd met up at the bar to
order pitchers of beer, something had happened.
"Damn," he rasped, scowling. They'd accidentally grazed one
another's elbows. Jake remembered Morgan's gaze meeting his.
Those deep green eyes that made his heart melt, made his
body go hot and hard with longing. Her nickname at the
Academy had been Amazon because she was tall, physically
strong and she had a bruising, in-your-face independence.
Jake remembered taking Morgan's hand and leading her into
the hall of the bar to be alone with her. He'd done
something he'd wanted to do for years: kiss the hell out of
her. Morgan, he'd discovered, had been watching him for a
long time, too. He'd asked if she was protected, and she'd
said yes, she was on the pill. They'd never made it back to
the Academy until very early on Sunday morning. And their
hearts and fates had been sealed, for better or worse.
He needed to stop remembering. Morgan wasn't in his life
anymore. Jake scowled and climbed the stone steps of the
Pentagon. Up ahead were soldiers with M-16 rifles. Since the
bombing of the Pentagon on 9/11, security had markedly
changed. He would go through an X-ray machine before ever
being allowed into the military bastion.
Jake aimed himself toward the outer ring, the E-ring. It was
the only level that had windows looking out into the
civilian world. Only senior military officers got those posh
office assignments. This was where many top secret and
black-ops missions originated. Curious as to why he was
called off PRODEV, sixty days of leave granted to him after
coming back from Afghanistan with his SEAL platoon, he
arrived at the E-ring. Looking at the file he held, he saw
the number of the office and turned to the right.
Captain Morgan Boland was sitting in a chair opposite the
secretary's desk when the door opened. Her eyes widened.
Jake Ramsey, again? Her lips parted for a moment. What was
he doing here? He stopped when he realized she was sitting
there staring up at him. He had a stunned look across his
normally unreadable expression. Shock bolted through her.
Morgan lowered her gaze, and her heart sped up. Why couldn't
she just ignore Ramsey's darkly tanned face? His rugged good
looks and those stormy-looking gray eyes of his? Her fingers
tightened imperceptibly around the file in her lap. The only
other empty chair in the small, cramped office was two feet
away from where she sat. She listened as Jake went to the
fortysomething-year-old blonde administrative assistant and
gave his name to her.
"Thank you, Lieutenant Ramsey. General Stevenson will see
you in just a bit. Would you like some coffee or tea while
you wait?"
Jake took off his cap. "No, thank you, ma'am." He hated
having to sit next to Morgan, who was staring at him as if
he were going to bite her. His traitorous body and heart
clamored over being so close to this fiery woman. Jake
wanted to be close. Wanted, somehow, to undo the wrong he'd
done to her two years earlier.
Sitting down, he glanced over at her. Morgan was staring
straight ahead, her hands tense over the file in her lap. He
relished viewing her profile and then realized her
once-perfect nose now had a bump on it. Had she broken it?
He almost asked but thought better of it. There was an
assistant sitting six feet away from them, and Jake didn't
want her to know how much Morgan hated him.
What to say to Jake Ramsey? Morgan felt heat radiating off
his hard male body. The uniform showed how athletic and fit
he really was. SEALs took exercise to a whole new level,
plus six months climbing mountains in Afghanistan had honed
his body into a dangerous weapon. She saw the SEAL gold
trident on his well-sprung chest, rows of colorful ribbons
beneath it. Jake was part of the best of the best black-ops
teams the military had. She remembered those pale eyes of
his going dove-gray as he'd made love with her. God, they
were good in bed together. Too good. And above all, Morgan
knew she had to keep a secret she would always carry from
that last meeting they had. Jake would never know. Pursing
her lips, she refused to say anything to him. Her mind
churned with questions on why both of them were here, in the
same office of the Pentagon. It made no sense to her.
A buzzer sounded on the assistant's desk. She looked over at
Morgan. "Go right through this door, Captain Boland. General
Houston will see you. Room two, please."
Rising, Morgan nodded, ignored Ramsey and opened the door.
Inside, she saw two offices, one on either side of the hall.
Turning to the left, she saw a frosted glass window with "2"
painted in gold upon it and knocked firmly.
"Enter," a male voice ordered.
Morgan's heart picked up a beat as she opened it. Inside was
a man in his late-fifties, fit, in a dark green U.S. Army
uniform. The salad, or ribbons, across his powerful chest
attested to his time and experience in the Army. There was
silver on the sidewalls of his closely cropped hair. His
eyes were sharp and intelligent-looking. Morgan came to
attention in front of his desk.
"Captain Morgan Boland reporting as ordered, sir."
"At ease, Captain. Have a seat. We need to chat." Indeed,
Morgan thought as she took the only chair in front of the
General's desk. The man smiled a little as he clasped his
hands and rested them on the dark cherrywood desk.
"What I'm about to tell you is top secret, Captain. But I
already think you know what this mission is all about."
"I'm hoping it's an op to go after Sangar Khogani, sir. I've
been pushing for it to find and kill him for the last couple
of years."
A grin leaked through the hardened line of his mouth. He
handed her a file folder. "We've been listening, Captain.
Read along with me?"
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