“Bingo!” Lauren yelped happily. “Beautiful, Sam! Just beautiful!”
His cramped hand loosened around the stick. Shoving up the visor, he shakily wiped his sweaty face. “Yeah…good,” he rasped. He’d done it! He’d landed the bird without incident! Miraculously, some of the fear was no longer with him. His stomach was still knotted, but not as painful as before.
“Let’s try it again,” Lauren urged excitedly.
For the next hour, they made ten landings. And ten times, the Eagle remained within the fifteen-hundred-foot requirements. Afterward, Holt took the bird back to the hangar, the rain continuing. Inside the hangar, he shut the jet down, raised the hood and took a deep breath of air after unsnapping his oxygen mask. His flight suit was soaked with sweat, and he smelled like hell, but he didn’t care.
On the concrete floor, Lauren leaped off the last rung of her ladder and came over, throwing her arms around him. “That was fantastic, Sam! Fantastic!”
He grinned self-consciously, releasing Lauren. “Thanks, Port.”
“I’m so proud of you, Sam. I knew what must be going through your mind about that crash. You did one hell of a job flying today.”
Her praise was genuine, and he nodded, tucking the helmet beneath his arm. “How could I disappoint such a beautiful lady?” he teased, feeling the tension begin to dissolve within him.
“Why don’t you hop a ride over to Ops and tell your lady that? I’ll see you in a little while. I want to check out the canards and brakes to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Roger.” Walking to the dark blue truck that would take him back to Ops, all Sam wanted was for it to take him to Megan. The driver pulled to a halt in front of the concrete steps of the two-story building, and he made a run up them to get out of the downpour.
Megan stood just inside and watched Sam come through the glass doors, shaking water off his flight suit. She saw the dark patches beneath his arms, and how the suit clung to his lean, tight frame. His hair was plastered against his skull, and she realized the toll on him. When Sam lifted his head, turned toward her, she broke out into a welcoming smile.
Holt didn’t care if the whole base was watching. He stepped up to Megan, dropped his helmet on a lounge chair and swept her into his arms. Crushing her sweet, willowy form against him, he whispered against her fragrant hair, “God, I love you….”
Joy shimmered through Megan, the air squeezed out of her lungs, but she didn’t care. Whispering his name, she kissed him, feeling the strength, the tenderness of his mouth upon hers. Breathless in the aftermath, Megan clung to him.
“You did it!”
“We did it,” Sam corrected, grinning.
“How did you feel in the cockpit?”
“Scared as hell.”
“And?”
“I just let it be, like you told me to do.”
Megan gripped his shoulders, beside herself with joy. “Wonderful, Sam! Just wonderful!”
He led her down the hall, away from all the curious eyes of the enlisted people and officers. Leading her to an unused report room, he ushered her inside it. Megan giggled as he shut the door.
“Am I in trouble now that there’s no audience around to watch us kiss?” she teased him. The light in his eyes was a smoldering hue, promising her so much.
Sam leaned negligently against the door and dug into one of the pockets of his flight suit. “Yeah, you’re really in trouble now, Red.” He located a small envelope and held it out to her.
“I made myself a promise that if I landed this bird safely, there was something we were going to talk seriously about. Here, take this.”
Stymied, Megan took the small manila envelope that had been painfully and precisely folded many times to fit the pocket of his flight suit. She placed her purse on the table.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and find out.”
Frowning, Megan didn’t know whether he was serious or kidding her. There was a white piece of paper inside it. “Sam, what’s going on here?”
He gloated, but said nothing, motioning for her to open it up.
Megan finally unfolded the paper. Her brows knitted, and then they flew upward. “Sam!”
“Well?”
“Uh…this is a marriage license.”
He grinned, placing his hands on his hips, and watched her flush. “Sure is. And if you look close enough, Red, our names are on it, too. All we have to do is go get a blood test and sign it. Want to?”
Stunned, Megan stared at it for a long moment. Her hands shook as she looked up at Sam. That cocky grin shadowed his mouth, giving him an air of arrogance. He wore it well, because Megan knew it was confidence, not pride, that radiated from him.
“Brother,” Sam said to no one in particular, “this is the first time I’ve ever seen you speechless. Usually, you’ve got a retort ready to fire for everything I say.”
“Holt, you’re such a clown sometimes. Imagine this—you hand me a marriage license!”
He arched his brows. Rummaging around in another pocket, he found a small black velvet box and handed it to her. “Here, does this make you feel happier?”
Megan gave him a wary look and opened the jewelry box. She gasped. Inside was a simple gold ring inlaid with tiny rectangles of emeralds and diamonds in a row. “Oh, Sam!”
“Now what do you have to say?”
“Oh, dear…” Tears crowded into Megan’s eyes as she picked up the ring and held it in her trembling hands.
Taking pity on her, Sam walked up and settled his hands on Megan’s shoulders. “How about, yes? That’s all I need to hear.”
Sniffing, Megan looked up into his deadpan features. Gone was the teasing. Instead, his eyes were dark with fear and hope. Fear, that she might say no. Hope, that she might say yes. “Th-this is so unexpected, Sam.”
“Do you like the ring? I wanted emeralds to match the color of your eyes.”
“I—beautiful, yes, the ring is breathtaking….”
“So are you.” He gently brought her into his embrace, holding her lustrous gaze. “Well? Will you consent to be Mrs. Megan Roberts Holt? Or maybe Megan Holt? Or maybe Ms. Roberts Holt. I really don’t care which way you want it, as long as you say yes.”
Dissolving into tears of laughter and happiness, Megan rested her head against his shoulder. “Yes, Sam Holt. Yes! My God, if I didn’t say the word, you’d have badgered it out of me just to marry you!”
Relief, sweet and flowing, swept through Holt as he held Megan against him. “You’re right,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Did I ever tell you what they called me back in flight school?”
Megan knew every fighter pilot had a nickname, and was frequently called by it, rather than his real name. “No. What?”
“Badger.”
She gave him a dirty look. “It figures.”
“It fits,” Sam warned her. And then, he took the ring and slipped it on her left hand. Proudly, he looked at it and then up at Megan. “What do you think?”
“It’s lovely, Sam. I’ve never seen one like it.”
“You won’t, either. I designed it, and then took it to a jeweler down in Los Angeles to make it.” He smiled happily. “A rare ring for a rare lady.”
Touched, Megan looked up at him, content to be in his arms. “Our marriage isn’t going to be all roses, Holt.”
“What one is?”
“I’m still afraid of you being a test pilot.”
“And I’m still afraid of dying. Can we be scared together?”
“As long as you and I can talk and share what our feelings are,” Megan whispered, “I think we can have a very happy marriage.”
Sam sobered. “We’ll always talk,” he promised her. Running his hand across her hair, he said, “What about kids?”
“At least half a dozen.”
“What?”
Demurely, Megan looked at him through her lashes. “Too many?”
“My paycheck will never afford that many, sweetheart.”
> “Two or three, then?”
“I can live with that. How about you?”
She smiled tenderly. “I think we’ll make very good parents to however many children we decide to have, darling.”
With a groan, Sam said, “Talk about a bunch of little hellions…our daughters and sons will have my badgering disposition with your red hair!”
Megan threw her arms around his shoulders, luxuriating in his hot, melting assault on her lips. In the haze of joy that wove and bound them to one another, Megan looked forward to their life together. Ghosts from their past were in the process of being laid to rest. They had trusted one another enough to share their fears and problems. And because they had, their reward was one another. Megan wanted nothing else. Ever.
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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Also available from Lindsay McKenna and HQN Books 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
Selected books by Lindsay McKenna Harlequin Romantic Suspense @His Duty to Protect #1691
@Beyond Valor #1739
Silhouette Romantic Suspense Love Me Before Dawn #44
^Protecting His Own #1184
Mission: Christmas/“The Christmas Wild Bunch” #1535
@His Woman in Command #1599
@Operation: Forbidden #1647
Silhouette Nocturne *Unforgiven #1
*Dark Truth #20
*The Quest #33
Time Raiders: The Seeker #69
*Reunion #85
*The Adversary #87
*Guardian #89
HQN
Enemy Mine
Silent Witness
Beyond the Limit
Heart of the Storm
Dangerous Prey
Shadows from the Past 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: www.LindsayMcKenna.com
www.twitter.com/lindsaymckenna
www.facebook.com/eileen.nauman
Excerpt from Down Range
Chapter One
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 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 resp
onse, 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?
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