A wounded soldier battles for total recall.
But can he trust his elusive memories?
Amnesia has robbed Asher Knight of his memories of a fatal mission. Now he doesn’t recognize Paige Sterling, the woman who claims to be his fiancée. Does the Delta Force lieutenant have PTSD—or something more sinister? On the run, he must rely on Paige to dodge unknown assassins and help him regain his memory...but is the secret she keeps from him even more shocking?
Red, White and Built: Pumped Up
Paige released a sigh.
“Thank God. I was so worried about you, but I didn’t call 911 and we’re on our way to a safe house.”
Paige waited for Asher to say more, maybe how he felt or what he thought happened to him.
Instead, he downed the water and gazed out the window.
“Asher?” He seemed awake but was this some kind of suspended state of consciousness? She waited for several minutes that stretched into an eternity.
“Asher? Did you hear me? We’re on our way to a safe house.” She touched his cool hand.
He snatched his hand away from her, screwed on the lid to the empty bottle, placed it back in the cup holder and finally turned toward her, his green eyes dark and unfathomable.
“When the hell were you going to tell me about our daughter?”
DELTA FORCE DADDY
Carol Ericson
Carol Ericson is a bestselling, award-winning author of more than forty books. She has an eerie fascination for true-crime stories, a love of film noir and a weakness for reality TV, all of which fuel her imagination to create her own tales of murder, mayhem and mystery. To find out more about Carol and her current projects, please visit her website at www.carolericson.com, “where romance flirts with danger.”
Books by Carol Ericson
Harlequin Intrigue
Red, White and Built: Pumped Up
Delta Force Defender
Delta Force Daddy
Red, White and Built
Locked, Loaded and SEALed
Alpha Bravo SEAL
Bullseye: SEAL
Point Blank SEAL
Secured by the SEAL
Bulletproof SEAL
Target: Timberline
Single Father Sheriff
Sudden Second Chance
Army Ranger Redemption
In the Arms of the Enemy
Brothers in Arms: Retribution
Under Fire
The Pregnancy Plot
Navy SEAL Spy
Secret Agent Santa
Harlequin Intrigue Noir
Toxic
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
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CAST OF CHARACTERS
Paige Sterling—A therapist who specializes in PTSD, she has her most important client ever—her Delta Force fiancé, who was ambushed and injured by the enemy. She not only has to help him remember what happened at the meeting he attended with his commander, Major Denver, that resulted in the major going AWOL, she has to help him remember her and their child.
Asher Knight—This Delta Force soldier can’t remember what happened the moment he got injured and his commander went AWOL, but he knows there’s something suspicious about his “rehabilitation.” Although he has a visceral attraction to the woman who rescues him, he soon learns even she is keeping secrets from him.
Ivy Knight—Paige and Asher’s daughter, she becomes a pawn in a dangerous political game.
Dylan Curran—An army ranger who was at the meeting with Asher and Major Denver, he paid an even higher price than Asher for his involvement in Major Denver’s secret meeting.
Tabitha Crane—A nurse who helped Asher in his rehabilitation, she now has a dangerous obsession with him that could get them both killed.
“Linc”—While sent to kill Asher, he learns he may be just as expendable as his target.
Frankie “The Greek” Greco—A mobster with a soft heart, he’s a friend of Asher’s imprisoned father and indebted to him; now Asher just might have to call in a few favors.
Major Rex Denver—Framed for working with a terrorist group, the Delta Force commander has gone AWOL and is on the run, but he knows he’s onto a larger plot and that he can count on his squad to have his back and help clear his name.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Excerpt from Renegade Protector by Nico Rosso
Prologue
Pain seared through his left ankle as he put weight on it. He listed to the side, throwing out a hand to wedge it against the rocky wall of the cliff face. As the gritty surface abraded the skinned flesh on the heel of his hand, he sucked in a breath.
Sinking into a crouch, he extended his injured leg in front of him and surveyed the rocky expanse below. Even with two steady legs, hydrated and nourished, this landscape would pose a challenge to navigate. Parched, weakened by hunger and with a bum ankle, he didn’t stand a chance.
He eyed the gray skies, scuffs of cloud rolling across the expanse, promising rain and relief—and more challenges. He dragged his boot over the rocks coated with dirt. Once the rains started, rivulets of water would wash the grit from the stones, joining forces in a muddy stream, making his path to the bottom of the mountain a slippery—and dangerous—proposition.
He’d already witnessed one of his men take a tumble down the side of a mountain. Had Knight survived that fall? If he knew anything about his Delta Force team, he’d lay odds on it. But even if Asher Knight had made it through, the men who had double-crossed them would’ve finished off Knight.
They wouldn’t have left any witnesses.
He took a deep breath and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Did you think it was gonna be easy going AWOL in Afghanistan in the middle of enemy territory, Denver?”
His voice sounded rusty to his own ears, but it was strong enough to startle a bird from its hiding place. The bird scuttled and flapped before taking wing and soaring up to those threatening clouds. He watched its ascent with something like envy roiling in his gut.
He willed himself to stand up—he owed it to Knight and the others to persevere. He stomped his bad foot and secured the laces on his boot—the tighter, the better for support. He hoisted his backpack and belted it around his waist. He strapped his rifle across his body. Couldn’t afford to lose that if he took a fall.
The first step jolted his bones, and he gritted his teeth. The next step felt worse, but at least he didn’t slide down the mountain.
Several more yards of jerky movement and his face broke into a sweat, which dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision. Maybe this descent would work better by touch and feel than sight, anyway. He didn’t need to see the view if he pitched off a cliff.
Something scrabbled behind him, dislodging several small stones that tumble
d down and peppered the back of his legs. He could get lucky and ride down with an avalanche.
“Meester.”
Ripping his sidearm from its holster, he whipped around and took aim at...a boy. The boy looked down at him from several feet above, clinging to the side of the mountain like a goat.
Denver’s muscles coiled, and he spat out in guttural Pashto, “Who are you? Where did you come from?”
The boy’s eyes grew round, crowding out the other features in his gaunt face. Then he raised an old Russian rifle, pointed it at him and said, “American soldier. You die today.”
Chapter One
“I’m sorry. Lieutenant Knight doesn’t remember you.” The army officer on the line cleared his throat. “But he doesn’t remember much of anything. He didn’t mention your name. That’s for sure. Are you positive you’re engaged to him?”
Paige’s hand shook as she tried to hold on to her phone. “That’s crazy. Do you think I’d make up some phony engagement to an injured Delta Force soldier?”
The army officer on the line paused, and a burning rage sizzled through Paige’s veins. She released it as a hiss through her teeth.
“I—I’m sure you are engaged and Lieutenant Knight will remember soon enough. The doctors are confident he’ll remember everything.”
“Oh, that’s encouraging.” Paige took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “What else has he forgotten?”
“Well, ma’am.” The officer coughed. “If he’s forgotten it, how would he be able to tell us about it?”
Her fist clenched in her lap. “You must know details of his life. Does he remember them?”
“I’m just the messenger, ma’am. I don’t know much about Lieutenant Knight’s condition.”
That’s for sure. Paige took a gulp of water from the glass on her desk. “Can I talk to his doctors? I’m a psychologist myself.”
“Ma’am, since you’re not next of kin, the doctors won’t speak to you.”
She ground her back teeth together, suppressing the scream that ached in her throat. “His mother is dead, his father’s in prison and he’s an only child. Whom exactly is the doctor speaking to about his care?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. We called you because Lieutenant Knight had your name and number in his phone. Yours was the only number listed in his favorites.”
“There!” She was his favorite. Didn’t that mean something? “Obviously, I’m the person he’d want you to contact in an emergency. Can I fly out to see him?”
“No, ma’am. We can’t allow that—yet.”
The soldier’s words punched her in the gut, and she doubled over. She had to speak to Asher, had to see him. Once they were back in each other’s arms, he’d remember everything.
“How much longer will he be in Germany?”
“Again, ma’am, I’m not at liberty to discuss any of the particulars of the lieutenant’s recovery with you. I got the order to call you out of courtesy...because you’re a favorite.”
She wished he’d stop saying that word. “Can you at least tell me he’s not badly injured physically? Will he make a full recovery?”
“He’s strong. As far as I know, he’s doing fine physically and is expected to make a full recovery. And, ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“That’s off the record.”
When the call ended, Paige sank to her chair behind the desk and placed her hands flat on the surface. What did this mean? Just because Asher had amnesia and couldn’t recall the details of their relationship...or her, did that mean it never happened? What were those doctors in Germany doing to help him recover his memories?
A light blinked above her door, indicating her next client had arrived. How in the world could she help anyone right now when she couldn’t even help herself?
She dragged herself out of the chair, straightened her shoulders and strode to the door. Plastering a smile on her face, she swung it open.
“Come on in, Krystal.”
Her next client sashayed into the room, flicking her long hair over one shoulder and wiggling her hips in a tight skirt that she must wear to impress her johns—which she wasn’t supposed to have anymore.
She smacked a piece of paper on Paige’s desk and tapped it with one long fingernail. “Can you sign now? Only two more sessions after this one before I satisfy the terms of my probation.”
Paige scribbled her signature on the form. “I hope you’ve gotten more out of these sessions than just the completion of your probation.”
“I have.” Krystal sat in her usual chair and crossed her long legs. “You’ve been great, Paige.”
Paige took the seat across from Krystal and nodded, which Krystal took as a signal to launch into a recitation of her sad life story.
Her words filled the room, and Paige tried to catch one or two to get the gist, although she’d heard most of it before.
“So, do you think I should call my father?”
Paige blinked and dropped the pencil she’d been tapping against the arm of her chair. She dipped forward and patted the carpet to buy time, to hide her confusion at the question that seemed to have come out of left field.
“It’s right next to the leg.”
“Huh?” Paige looked up, her face flushed with heat.
“The pencil. It’s next to the left chair leg.”
Paige’s fingers inched to the left and curled around the pencil. “Got it.”
Krystal arched one painted-on eyebrow. “So, do you? Do you think I should call the scumbag?”
Clearing her throat, Paige folded her hands in her lap. “What do you think?”
“I knew you were going to say that.” Krystal slumped in her chair and clicked together her decorated nails. “Why do you always answer a question with a question?”
“If you did call your father, what would you say?”
“I’m not sure.” Krystal chewed all the lipstick off her bottom lip. “I don’t want to remember any more stuff about him.”
“Any more stuff?”
“I know you helped me with the repressed memories and all that, and remembering my father’s abuse really did help me deal with my issues and figure out why I thought hooking was a good way to make a living, but I think there might be more.” Krystal dashed a tear from her face, leaving a black streak on her cheek. “I have a funny feeling in my gut that he did more to me, and I’m afraid seeing him again is gonna make those memories bubble up. And I don’t want them. I don’t want them anymore.”
Paige hunched forward, her knees almost touching Krystal’s, and shoved a box of tissues at her. “You want me to tell you what to do? Screw it. Don’t talk to him. Don’t see him.”
After Krystal left her office, all smiles and thanks, Paige plopped down in her desk chair and scooted up to her computer. She brought up her calendar on the monitor and placed her first call to cancel her appointments for the next two weeks.
If just seeing her father would prompt memories for Krystal, maybe seeing her would do the same for Asher.
She felt guilty canceling on her clients, but she’d just gotten her most important client ever.
* * *
ASHER WEDGED HIS boots against the railing surrounding the porch and squinted into the woods beyond the clearing. The doctors here must be wary of him going postal or something, because he could sense them spying on him. Spying? That was what his intuition told him, anyway.
He huffed out a breath and watched it form a cloud in the cold air. Funny how he could remember all the skills he’d learned as a Delta Force member, including that last mission—the one that had thrown him for a loop and wiped out all his previous memories—but he couldn’t recall the rest of his life.
The doctors had assured him it would all come back, not that he had much of a family to come back to—mother dead, father in federal prison for
bank robbery and no siblings or even aunts and uncles. No wife.
He glanced at his left ring finger and wiggled it. No ring tan and the docs had assured him they’d perused his army files and no wife was listed—even though it felt like he could have one. Something—or someone—more than just his memories felt missing.
The guys who might know more about him than anyone else—his Delta Force team—couldn’t be reached right now. Their commander, Major Rex Denver, had gone AWOL. He should know—he’d been there the moment Denver had escaped.
The man he’d trusted with his life, had looked up to, had followed blindly, that man had shot and killed an army ranger and had pushed Asher over the edge of a cliff before escaping. Asher had been rescued by a squad of army rangers, surviving the fall with minor injuries...because his head had taken the brunt of the impact.
Asher ran a fingertip along the scar on the back of his head where his hair had yet to grow back. That moment, that scene when Denver had shot the ranger and then turned on him and pushed him into oblivion was etched on his brain, but he couldn’t remember his own family.
The doctors in Germany had tried to fill him in on his background, so he knew the outline, hadn’t even been shocked by the details of a dead mother and a father imprisoned for bank robbery. On some gut level that life had resonated with him, but he couldn’t recall the specifics.
The docs showed him pictures of his Delta Force teammates, had even allowed him a phone call with Cam, who’d been on leave.
Asher scratched the edges of his scar. That phone call hadn’t gone well. Cam had accused him of lying. He didn’t have a chance to get into it with him because the psychologist ended the call. The doc had shrugged off Cam as a hothead, and that definitely rang a bell with Asher.
An ache creeped up his neck, and Asher tried to massage it away. The doctors had warned him about trying too hard to remember, but what else could he do in this convalescent home? The army called it a rehabilitation center, but Asher didn’t feel rehabilitated. He needed...something. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but a big piece of his life was missing.
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