On Wings of Passion (14 page)
He put his mug down and then took hers from her fingers and pulled her into his arms. “You’re right on all counts,” he said heavily. “Anne had a streak of restlessness I couldn’t satisfy, Erin. She craved a more exciting life, a faster pace of living, I suppose.” Ty shrugged. “What can I say? We were like a plow horse and a thoroughbred in the same hitch. We worked against each other instead of together.” He touched her wet cheek, drying it gently. “Part of it was my fault. I was fulfilling some pretty tough career demands at the time. The other was just mismatched personalities. It happens, you know, to more people than I care to think about. I got married too young, when I was too eager about establishing my career.”
Erin remained silent for a long time. “What if I have to fly all over the U.S. or Canada to get stories for different magazines and newspapers? Would you object?”
Ty chuckled, nuzzling her ear. “How could I? I’ll be flying halfway around the world, taking off on secret missions or just going on long training flights. I’ll be gone twenty days out of every month. No, honey, I wouldn’t mind. I’d hope that those other ten days we might be together instead of apart.”
Erin closed her eyes and sighed. “We’ll make the most of those ten days,” she promised huskily.
He turned her so that she was resting her back against his bent leg. “Well, will you marry me now?”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes!” she whispered fiercely into his ear, “I will!”
Ty murmured her name, his mouth seeking and finding her lips. Erin responded passionately to his breath-stealing kiss, content to remain imprisoned within his arms.
His blue eyes danced with a roguish glint as he drew away. He shifted her next to him and dug in his side pocket. “Here,” he said, drawing out a velvet gray box, “open this.”
He placed it in her waiting hands. She smiled at him as she carefully lifted the lid. Her eyes widened in appreciation as she stared at a dark blue oval stone in a platinum setting. “It’s lovely,” she whispered.
“Not the usual diamond ring,” he noted.
“I never liked diamonds,” Erin admitted, carefully pulling the ring from the box. Ty placed it on her left hand. “This is a rare form of tourmaline that I bought a long time ago when I was down in South America on leave.” Ty held her hand up and the color of the stone changed as light refracted through it. “When I saw this stone, it reminded me of a woman whose eyes changed colors depending on her moods.” He smiled tenderly down at her. “You’re like that, darlin’—moody, unpredictable, willful, part child, part adult. The tourmaline symbolizes a very small part of the vast range of your emotions, all of which I love experiencing.”
Erin gripped his hand, resting her cheek against it, her heart turning over with love. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, fighting back tears of happiness. “I never expected anything, Ty.”
He laughed softly and hugged her fiercely. “Banshee witches only cast spells. They don’t look into the future,” Ty murmured, kissing her temple. “Let’s face it, we’re two very unique people, and we’ll have a unique marriage. The engagement ring is a symbol of that, a celebration of our individuality. I can’t think of a better way to start a wonderful marriage. Can you?”
She gazed down at the ring, which was the color of the sky in which he would continue to fly. To Erin the ring symbolized a proud breed of men and women who believed deeply in what they were doing and were willing to pay the price.
She loved Ty Phillips. His standards and commitment were no higher than her own.
She placed her hands on either side of his face and looked deeply into his eyes. “I’ve been waiting a lifetime to meet you, darling. This ring is living proof of our love for one another.”
Ty kissed her hands. “What took you so long to come into my life?” he whispered, crushing her in his arms. Erin nuzzled beneath his chin, thoroughly content. “I guess good things are just worth waiting for.”
“And honey,
you
were worth waiting for, believe me,” he said fiercely, covering her lips in a soul-searing kiss.
ROMANTIC
suspense
Two
USA TODAY
bestselling authors in one book!
Two deadly missions have these men in uniform
putting their lives and their hearts on the line for
service, duty and love.
Look for
COURSE OF ACTION
next month,
featuring Out of Harm’s Way
by Lindsay McKenna
and
Any Time
, Any Place
by Merline Lovelace.
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High Country Rebel
The Loner
The Last Cowboy
Deadly Silence
Deadly Identity
Guardian
The Adversary
Reunion
Shadows from the Past
Dangerous Prey
Time Raiders: The Seeker
The Quest
Heart of the Storm
Dark Truth
Beyond the Limit
Unforgiven
Silent Witness
Enemy Mine
Firstborn
Morgan’s Honor
Morgan’s Legacy
An Honorable Woman
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Silent Witness
Beyond the Limit
Heart of the Storm
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Deadly Identity
Deadly Silence
The Last Cowboy
The Wrangler
The Defender
Lindsay McKenna is proud to have served her country in the U.S. Navy as an aerographer’s mate third class—also known as a weather forecaster. She was a pioneer of the military romance subgenre and loves to combine heart-pounding action with soulful and poignant romance. True to her military roots, she is the originator of the long-running and reader-favorite Morgan’s Mercenaries series. She does extensive hands-on research, including flying in aircraft such as a P3-B Orion sub-hunter and a B-52 bomber. She was the first romance writer to sign her books in the Pentagon bookstore. Today, she has created a new military romantic suspense series, Shadow Warriors, which features romantic and action-packed tales about U.S. Navy SEALs. Visit her online at:
Down Range
W
HAT 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 Boland had an hourglass figure, and though her clothes fit 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 him—yet.
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 heart—and 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 US 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.
C
APTAIN
M
ORGAN
B
OLAND
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 forty-something-year-old blond 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 back-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 cherry wood 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.”