“You’re One Of A Kind, Maggie Harper. Headstrong Or Not, I Can’t Help Myself,” Shep Said.

As Maggie lifted her head to meet his descending mouth, something wonderful broke loose in her wildly beating heart. Closing her eyes, she leaned against him.

When his mouth tenderly grazed her parting lips, a sigh rippled from her. It was that dichotomy about Shep that always threw her. He looked like a warrior: big, bruising, hard looking and so very, very powerful. Yet, she was privileged to know this other side of him, too, so it was easy to yield to him completely. With him, she was safe. She knew he would care for her as if she were a priceless and fragile treasure.

Moaning, she slid her arms against his broad, tense shoulders. Maggie wanted him. And as his lips moved in a claiming gesture against hers, she knew that what they’d shared so long ago was alive today. That he wanted her now just as much as he had in the past.

Maybe even more.

Dear Reader,

Welcome in the millennium, and the 20th anniversary of Silhouette, with Silhouette Desire—where you’re guaranteed powerful, passionate and provocative love stories that feature rugged heroes and spirited heroines who experience the full emotional intensity of falling in love!

We are happy to announce that the ever-fabulous Annette Broadrick will give us the first MAN OF THE MONTH of the 21st century, Tall, Dark & Texan. A highly successful Texas tycoon opens his heart and home to a young woman who’s holding a secret. Lindsay McKenna makes a dazzling return to Desire with The Untamed Hunter, part of her highly successful MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: THE HUNTERS miniseries. Watch sparks fly when a hard-bitten mercenary is reunited with a spirited doctor—the one woman who got away.

A Texan Comes Courting features another of THE KEEPERS OF TEXAS from Lass Small’s miniseries. A cowboy discovers the woman of his dreams—and a shocking revelation. Alexandra Sellers proves a virginal heroine can bring a Casanova to his knees in Occupation: Casanova. Desire’s themed series THE BRIDAL BID debuts with Amy J. Fetzer’s Going…Going…Wed! And in Conveniently His, Shirley Rogers presents best friends turned lovers in a marriage-of-convenience story.

Each and every month, Silhouette Desire offers you six exhilarating journeys into the seductive world of romance. So start off the new millennium right, by making a commitment to sensual love and treating yourself to all six!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

The Untamed Hunter
Lindsay McKenna

LINDSAY MCKENNA

is a practicing homeopath and emergency medical technician on the Navajo Reservation in Arizona. She comes from an Eastern Cherokee medicine family and is a member of the Wolf Clan. Dividing her energies between alternative medicine and writing, she feels books on and about love are the greatest positive healing force in the world. She lives with her husband, David, at La Casa de Madre Tierra, near Sedona.

To Emile and Patricia Daher,

who serve the best food in Sedona at Shugrue’s.

It’s a joy to come and relax, laugh and share

pleasantries and friendship.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

One

“You could die on this mission, Maggie. This one is no walk in the park.” Dr. Casey Morrow-Hunter drilled Dr. Maggie Harper with a hard look hoping to convince her of the danger she’d be facing. The world-renowned virologist sat on the other side of Casey’s huge oak desk at the Office of Infectious Diseases.

Maggie raised her eyebrows slightly at her boss’s huskily spoken warning. Sighing, she lifted her long, artistic looking hands. “I risk my life every day in the hot zone. So what’s new?” With a shrug of her shoulders, she gave her a challenging grin. “Tell me what in our business isn’t dangerous, Casey.”

“Touché,” Casey muttered. She tapped her pencil on the top-secret file that was open on her desk as she studied the woman before her. Maggie’s red hair, which was almost always captured in a chignon at the nape of her long neck when she went into the lab to work with deadly viruses and bacteria, flowed across her proud, thin shoulders. Casey had caught Maggie and pulled her into her office for this discussion before the doctor had a chance to suit up for hot zone work scheduled later that morning.

Maggie pulled the tea bag out of her flowery cup and placed it on the white china saucer balanced on her crossed legs. “So,” she murmured, giving Casey a knowing look, “what little special assignment have you cooked up for me this time? You know how bored I get. It must be a field assignment? To Africa?”

Casey smiled at her assistant. Maggie was only five foot three inches tall, but she was a firm one hundred and twenty pounds and an all-around athlete. Despite how small she was, Maggie had a seventeen-hand-high Thoroughbred that she raced in cross country events whenever OID issues didn’t take her weekends away from her. Twelve miles and twenty or so challenging jumps at top speed didn’t faze Casey’s friend of many years. Maggie could break her neck at any time. More than once, Casey has seen her limp into the OID after a brutal weekend of competition. And now, at the thought of a new assignment, Maggie’s hazel eyes inevitably were sparkling with life. She liked living on the edge.

As if that wasn’t enough, Maggie was not only on the OID sharpshooters’ team, she was leader of it, being more than a little handy with pistols and rifles. Which was why Casey had pulled her for this dangerous mission. Maggie thrived on competition and adventure. When in danger, she was coolheaded, and didn’t allow her emotions to interfere with the steps a doctor on a mission for OID often had to take to save her life. More than once, Casey and Maggie had had a good chuckle over Maggie’s trauma-junkie attitude toward life. It served her well in their dangerous field missions to epidemic outbreaks around the world.

Tapping the file, Casey said, “I’d take this one myself, but as you know, I tested positive for pregnancy a week ago.”

Glowing with genuine joy, Maggie sipped her tea. “I know. I’m thrilled for you and Reid. Is he still walking on air?”

Chuckling, Casey nodded. “Yes, and he’s having hissy fits over me working with all these microbes, saying I’ve got to be extra careful now.”

“Yeah, like in our business, we’re sloppy.” Maggie burst into laughter.

The room rang with their black humor that only those in the medical field could truly appreciate. Behind Casey through the slats of the venetian blinds, the sun sent blinding light into her pale pink office, drawing her eye momentarily to the peaceful landscape paintings on three of the four walls. “Oh, he’s like any expectant father. A worrywart,” she murmured softly.

“That’s why you took yourself off the hot zone list.” Maggie nodded and squeezed a tad of lemon juice into her tea. Delicately, she placed the lemon wedge on the side of the saucer. “Wise move. Have you had morning sickness yet?”

Rolling her eyes, Casey said, “I’m only six weeks along. And no, no morning sickness—yet.”

Sitting back in the expensive leather wing chair, Maggie sighed. “You’ve got a wonderful guy. But I think you know it.”

Casey’s eyes grew soft. “Yes, I do. But he knows he’s got a wonderful woman, too.”

Grinning widely, Maggie said, “With that kind of respect for one another, a marriage is sure to last.”

“Humph, unlike these two-to-five-year throwaway marriages I see littering the landscape everywhere I look.”

“Well,” Maggie said, “those people marry too young. They don’t take the time to get to know the other person—or themselves.” She grimaced. “I almost made that mistake back in college. I learned my lesson, believe me.” She took another sip of tea. “I’d rather be single than make the same mistake twice.”

Casey nodded. She knew Maggie had come close to getting married a couple of times in the seven years she’d worked at OID. Both relationships had fizzled. And both times the reason had been that the man wanted to control Maggie, who, being a very modern woman, wasn’t about to kowtow to any man. It had to be an equal partnership or she wasn’t going to even think about getting involved. Too many men still felt it was their right to tell a woman what to do. Fortunately, Maggie had the grit, the confidence in herself to know better. Still, Casey held out hope for the brilliant, courageous medical doctor. Someone would come along who truly appreciated everything she brought to the table.

“So, what’s this dangerous mission?” Maggie inquired.

“This is really dangerous, Maggie. It’s not like you gallop pell-mell down a steep hill to a four-foot jump, believe me.”

Leaning forward, she said, “Tell me more.”

Seeing the glint in Maggie’s eyes, Casey knew she’d chosen the right person for this mission. “Okay, here’s the skinny on it.” She flipped open another page of the top secret file. “I got a call from Perseus last Friday. They are a supersecret government entity that works deep behind the scenes with our national security agencies. Morgan Trayhern, the head of Perseus, asked me for a volunteer from OID because there’s a bioterrorist group active in the United States right now. Some of Morgan’s people just captured one of their top people, a professor who possessed genetically cloned anthrax bacteria. They’ve found out from this professor that the terrorists are trying to get more anthrax because Morgan’s people captured their only supply.”

Maggie nodded and finished off her cup of tea. “We have it here, in our lab. The only material known in the U.S.A.”

“Right, which is why the spotlight has shifted to the OID.” Casey frowned. “Black Dawn isn’t a wasted word on you.”

“No…it’s not.” Maggie set the cup and saucer on Casey’s large desk. “Don’t tell me they’re involved in this?”

“Up to the gum stumps,” Casey muttered unhappily. “They are the slickest, most professional and dangerous bioterrorist threat in the world today.”

“Ouch.” Maggie stood up and slid her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “So, how do we figure into this odd equation?”

“In a very interesting way, believe me,” Casey said admiring the tall, proud way Maggie carried herself. There wasn’t an ounce of spare fat on her frame. Maggie was the picture of bravery and steadiness, in Casey’s opinion, and she would need all of that—and then some—if she took this mission.

“Morgan is setting a trap for them. Well, several traps, to flush the rest of Black Dawn’s operatives in the United States into the open. I’ve approved his plan. What Morgan needs is a decoy from OID to tip their hand.”

“Hmm, sounds fascinating,” Maggie said, slowly walking to the windows and looking out through the blinds. Outside the OID building were long, sloping green lawns and huge live oaks. Maggie often looked out to the huge, centuries-old oak trees when faced with a new challenge at work. The sight of the trees comforted her, as they typified the South, where she was born.

“Well, let’s see if you continue to think that,” Casey said, glancing over her shoulder. She saw Maggie’s oval face grow pensive. Even though she was a risk taker of the first order, when things got serious, Maggie could walk her talk. She wasn’t irresponsible when the chips were down.

Fingering the file, Casey turned another page. “Here’s the plan. Morgan wants to draw Black Dawn out. The only way we can do that is to set up a decoy situation. We know they’ve lost their genetically altered anthrax, because the FBI found it on Kauai, Hawaii. Black Dawn will want more. Morgan will rig a call that we know Black Dawn has bugged, alerting them to the fact that OID is sending a vial of it north, up to the army base in Virginia. That’s where you come in, Maggie. You will be the official courier responsible for getting this vial up there.”

“That’s really interesting,” Maggie said, turning and studying Casey. “And then Black Dawn will descend upon me to get the vial, right?”

“That’s what we’re hoping.” Opening her hands, she added, “Of course, you’ll be well guarded. I don’t want you to think we’re throwing you out to the terrorists like a bone to a dog.”

Chuckling, Maggie walked back and sat down in front of Casey. “I figured as much. So, you need my shooting ability because Black Dawn plays hardball, right?”

“Yes,” Casey said unhappily. “I tried to persuade Morgan to send a policewoman, or a woman from the military, but he argued that Black Dawn might not go for the trap because they’d know a member of OID was not involved. We always send along one of our virologists with any shipments in transit from OID.”

“SOP,” Maggie said. “Standard operating procedure.”

“Yes.” Casey tapped her fingers against the file. “This is going to be very dangerous, Maggie. I don’t like the plan. I understand it, but I don’t have to like it. Putting you in danger is my biggest worry. Black Dawn plays rough. The FBI has promised full cooperation with Perseus on this mission. You’ll be well guarded, but that’s no guarantee. I told Morgan of my concern over this. They can’t just put you in a car with the case containing the vial and tell you to drive from Atlanta to Virginia by yourself. He agreed. So he’s sending his top mercenary with you.”

“Ah, company,” Maggie said with relief. She rolled her eyes. “At least I’ll have company on this trip.”

“You always have a sense of humor,” Casey muttered worriedly.

With a short laugh, Maggie shrugged. “Hey, listen, I’ve been in some pretty dire circumstances when I ride that wild horse of mine. And I’ve felt some serious pressure while trying to win a pistol shooting award for OID. Either way, no matter what the stakes, it’s pressure. I thrive on it. You know that.”

“Well, how’s the mission sound so far?”

“Okay,” Maggie said. Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Frankly, I’d like to flush some of those bioterrorists out of the woodwork. If I can be of help, I’m volunteering. I’m sure the FBI is going to shadow us.”

“They will, but they can’t shadow you so close as to scare off Black Dawn. It’s going to be dicey, Maggie. They could strike at your hotel room, or when you’re driving on the interstate…anywhere. You’ve got to be on full alert a hundred percent of the time.”

“As long as you give me a flak jacket to wear—not that I like those things, they are so uncomfortable—and a Beretta pistol to carry, I’m game.”

Drilling her with a searching look, Casey asked, “You’re sure about this? You do want to take the mission?”

“Why not? What else am I doing, anyway? I’d like to think my life counts for something, and if I can help bag the bad guys, that will make me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile for humanity.”

“You’ve got a big heart, Maggie. I don’t know about your logic, though,” Casey said, scratching her brow nervously.

Reaching across the desk, Maggie shook her finger at Casey, “Listen, big mama hen in the sky, I’ll be fine! I’m an OID sharpshooter, remember? Our team is number three in the U.S. We’ve got a shot—pardon the pun—at the next Olympics. I intend to keep leading the team. I’d love to try for gold.”

Grudgingly, Casey nodded, “I think you’re a twenty-year-old inside that thirty-six-year-old body.”

Laughing heartily, Maggie got up. She was never one to stay still for long. Circling the office, hands stuffed into the pockets of her lab coat, she chuckled. “I’m a big kid at heart. And okay, so I take a lot of chances riding my horse in those events. I know what I’m doing, Casey. I’m good at what I do.” She turned and looked at her supervisor, who was more like a big sister to her. “I’m right for this mission and you know it or you wouldn’t have asked me to volunteer for it.” With a shrug, she said, “Besides, I don’t have a family. I’m single. No kids. I’m the perfect person for it.”

Turning another page in the file, Casey nodded. “You’re right,” she conceded. “Morgan was hoping you’d take it. Black Dawn knows who our best virologists are. You’re listed as number three here at OID. That’s as good as it gets. If Black Dawn knows you’re the courier, Morgan is sure they’ll make a play to capture you and the anthrax vial. There’s no question in his mind.”

“For once,” Maggie said, “my list of credentials will really impress someone.”

With a sour grin, Casey joined in with her laughter. Maggie had graduated from Harvard University at the head of her class. She’d brought millions of dollars in grant money with her when she decided to make the OID her home. In the world of virology, Maggie had more than made her mark. She was known around the world for her abilities and for her pioneering work in the field.

“Well, now that you’ve decided to take the mission, this is your escort.” Casey handed over an eight-by-ten color photo of a man. “He’s one of the top mercs at Perseus. A specialist in undercover work.”

Still smiling, Maggie reached out and took the photo. When she turned it around, she gasped. The photo tumbled out of her hand.

Casey saw Maggie blanch. “What is it?” She watched as the photo fluttered from Maggie’s frozen fingers to the carpeted floor, saw Maggie’s eyes widen with shock and then pain. Automatically, Casey got up and moved around the desk. She picked up the photo. As she stood to her full height and her gaze locked on Maggie’s, she saw tears in her friend’s eyes. But just for a moment. The tears quickly disappeared and Casey saw anger in those hazel eyes, instead.

“What’s going on, Maggie?” She held the photo out to her.

“Oh, Lord,” Maggie croaked. She took a step away from Casey and the proffered photo. “You aren’t serious, are you?” She jabbed a finger at the photo. “Do you know who that is? Do you have any idea?”

Nonplussed, Casey looked helplessly at the photo. “Well, yes…Shep Hunter. He’s Reid’s older brother.”

A strangled sound issued from Maggie’s throat. She wheeled away and moved over to the windows. Jamming her hands into her pockets once more, she muttered defiantly, “Get that bastard’s photo out of here, Casey. I want nothing to do with him! Not a damned thing!”

The obvious hurt, the trembling in her voice, shook Casey. She took a look at the photo once more and then studied Maggie’s drawn profile. Maggie had compressed her full lips into a hard, thin line and suffering was written on every square inch of her features. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you. I know you told me that you’d known Shep a long time ago…” Casey grimaced. “I guess there’s a lot more to this than you’d told me before?”

Turning coldly, Maggie stared at her across the office, the tension thick. “You could say that.” She saw the shock and concern on Casey’s face. It was obvious she didn’t realize what was going on. “I knew Shep a long time ago,” she said in a whisper. “At Harvard. He was going for a degree in engineering. He was a member of ROTC, which led him eventually into the Air Force, to become a pilot.” She waved her hand in irritation. “But that was after us. After a relationship that lasted my entire freshman year there at the university.”

“Oww,” Casey murmured, beginning to understand. “So, you two had an affair?”

Her shoulders had drawn up in sizzling tension, and Maggie forced herself to try and relax. Her heart was pounding wildly in her breast. She couldn’t control her breathing yet. It hurt to think of Shep. It hurt to remember. Their relationship had ended so many years ago. How was it he could still affect her like this now? With a groan, Maggie turned to Casey. She deserved the full story.

“It was more than that. We fought like cats and dogs, Casey. He wanted to control me. I fought him every inch of the way. We were both independent types. Both bullheaded as hell. He always thought his way was best and my ideas were second best to his. We fought…brother, did we fight. Of course, making up was a lot of fun, too….” She sighed, some of the anger in her voice dissolving. “I’ve never been in such a wildly passionate relationship before or since. He was everything I’d ever dreamed of in a man, but he treated me like an idiot with no brains. He never thought I had an equal idea to his, much less a better one. Of course,” she fumed, “more times than not, my ideas were better than his. But he had so much damned pride he’d never admit it. And on top of that, he was the strong, silent type.”

Casey groaned. “Oh, one of those Neanderthal throwbacks, eh? Pride is a problem with the Hunter men, from where I stand.”

“He was so arrogant,” Maggie said, a hard-edged rasp in her voice. “So full of himself. He always thought he was smarter than everyone else. Maybe he was, over in the engineering department, where he pulled straight A’s and was on the dean’s list. But in my world, he couldn’t shed that egotism and arrogance, Casey. He could never relax with me, let go and just be an ordinary human being who had good days and bad days, who needed someone else. He was such an iconoclast! He reminded me of Mount Everest—always proud, unapproachable, needing no one and nothing.”

Casey moved over to her side after placing the photo back into the file. “So you broke up because he couldn’t really be intimate with you? Is that the bottom line?”

Miserably, Maggie nodded. “Yeah, Case, it was.” She wiped her eyes. “Damn him. After all these years, I still feel so much for him! My heart is stupid. My head knows better now.” She pursed her lips and glared out the venetian blinds. “If he could have said ‘I need you’ just once, Case, I’d have jumped up and down for joy. But he never did.”

“Did you need him?”

“Sure I did,” she said bitterly. “Oh, he liked that. He wanted to feel needed by the weaker sex. Well, weak nothing! I was his equal. And he knew it. And he would never acknowledge that. He treated me like a twit.”

“Ouch,” Casey murmured. “Neanderthals have that proclivity, don’t they?”

Maggie raised an eyebrow. “You ought to know. You married one of them. But I can’t really believe Reid is like Shep. You wouldn’t have married him if he was.”

Casey chuckled. “You’re right. I’d have told him to get lost.”

“Maybe Reid’s different because he’s the youngest of the four,” Maggie said in a hurt voice. “He must be. I mean, I’ve met a lot of men in my life, and Shep Hunter takes the cake for the glacial Neanderthal type, believe me.”

“I met him,” Casey said slowly, “about six months ago. He was coming off a mission for Perseus, and he dropped by to see us here in Atlanta.”

Maggie peered up at her. “And he hasn’t changed one bit, has he?”

Hearing the hurt and pain in her voice, Casey shrugged. “He tried to be friendly when he met me. I could tell he was making an effort.”

“Maybe life’s changed him a little, after all,” Maggie whispered. “With age comes maturity, right? Don’t answer that.”

Casey stood there, in a quandary. “Maggie, if you take this mission, you take Shep, too. It’s a done deal. Everything is set up. Morgan feels that Shep will give you the best chance of surviving.”

Bitterly, Maggie folded her arms against her chest. “Yes, that’s one thing Shep Hunter is very good at—survival. He won’t let you into his heart, that’s for sure. He’d just as soon walk away from a woman who loved him, really loved him. He’s a coward, Casey. Such a coward…”

“Men who can’t be intimate are scared,” Casey agreed softly. “It takes a lot of courage to share our feelings with one another.”

“Women do it at the drop of a hat. You can’t tell me men can’t. It’s just that they won’t. That’s a big difference. They’re made just like us. They have hearts that feel.” Making a strangled sound once more, Maggie turned and said, “Don’t get me started on this. I used to have this argument every day with Shep. I’m surprised our relationship lasted a full year before we agreed, mutually, to walk away from one another.”

Casey could see the pain in Maggie’s large hazel eyes. “You walked away because it was destroying you. I’m sure Shep walked away out of relief because he couldn’t take the pressure of your demands for him to open up and be emotionally accessible to you.”

“You should have been a shrink, Case. Yes, that’s hitting the nail on the head.”

“Well,” Casey murmured, looking back at her desk, where the file lay, “what are we going to do? I won’t be able to change your guard dog for you.”

“I don’t want him on this mission, Casey. Anybody but him. Please…”

Casey studied her friend’s strained features, wishing it wasn’t too late to grant her desperate request.

“Well, Shep, what do you think?” Morgan tried to gird himself for Hunter’s reaction to the mission. More than anyone in his organization, Shep Hunter was a loner. Morgan knew why and understood Shep’s demand for solo missions. Morgan studied the man standing before his desk in the war room of Perseus, which was hidden deep in the Rocky Mountains of Montana. Shep was a giant at six foot six inches tall, and the thirty-eight-year-old ex-air force pilot was one of Morgan’s best mercenaries. Shep was heavy-boned and muscular, and even dressed in jeans, cowboy boots and a denim long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, he looked dangerous. Maybe it was his square face and that jutting, rock-solid jaw that gave Shep such a hard look, Morgan thought. With his short black hair and thick, black eyebrows, which emphasized his frosty blue eyes, Shep Hunter reminded Morgan of a mighty eagle ready to swoop in an attack and gut the quarry he had his sights on.

“Humph,” Shep said as he sat down in the chair across from Morgan’s desk and continued to read the mission proposal rapidly. “OID, huh?”

“Read on…there’s more to this,” Morgan warned him briskly. He was prepared to see Shep refuse the mission once he read page two, which identified the OID virologist who would be on the mission with him. Every time Morgan tried to pair Shep up with a partner, he’d refused. They’d had hellacious shouting matches over the subject from time to time, in this very room. And Morgan knew Shep would walk out and quit rather than be assigned a partner. No, ever since Sarah had died on that fateful mission with him, Shep had closed up tighter than an proverbial clam. He absolutely refused to be partnered up again.

And yet, as he tried to appear at ease as Shep devoured the mission brief, Morgan gathered his argument points as to why, if Shep wanted this mission, the OID decoy must be part of it. He just hoped Shep would take it. No one was better suited for this task than Shep, Morgan knew.

Glancing at the photos of his family on one side of his desk, Morgan felt some of his tension easing. The fraternal twins in Laura’s lap were smiling. How simple and beautiful life could be. He loved his wife and four children more than anything in the world. Looking up at Shep once more, Morgan realized he saw a lot of his former self in him. Morgan had once been as hard and icy as this merc sitting in front of him. It would take a woman who had metal, who had courage to probe the depths of Shep’s fear of intimacy, to help open him up. Morgan acknowledged even today that Laura had had more courage than he’d ever had back then. She’d taken him on—and won. But Morgan was the real winner as far as he was concerned.

When Shep rapidly flipped the page, Morgan steeled himself.

“I’ll be damned.”

Morgan leaned forward in the chair and put his elbows on his desk. He saw surprise in Shep’s normally hard, unreadable features. “What?” he asked tentatively.

“I’ll be damned. I don’t believe this,” he said in a deep tone. He held the file pointing to the photo. “This is the woman I’m supposed to guard? Dr. Maggie Harper? Are you sure?”

Puzzled by Shep’s unexpected reaction, Morgan said, “Yes. Why? Is there a problem?”

With a shake of his head, Shep uncoiled to his full height. Tossing the folder on Morgan’s desk, he turned and walked around the large, silent room with his hands on his hips. “I’ll be go-to-hell, Morgan. Life really is full of surprises and twists.”

Morgan scooped up the file and looked at the photo of the doctor. He didn’t understand Shep’s reaction. He’d never seen Shep act this way about a mission. And Morgan wasn’t sure if Hunter’s response was a good or bad one. Usually, Shep would throw the file at him and tell him to go to hell if there was a partner involved. This time, the man’s face was softening. Morgan could see a glimmer of something warm and tentative in his icy blue eyes. And his mouth, usually a thin line, had the corners turned up in a slight smile.

Stymied, Morgan held up the file. “Clue me in, will you, Hunter?”

Turning, Shep gave his boss a measured look. Though his fingers were draped casually across his narrow hips, tension thrummed through him. He felt his heart beating hard in his chest. And he felt happiness threading through him. The feeling was completely unexpected, but beautiful. It made him breathe in deeply—as if he were coming alive after a long, long sleep. How long had it been since he’d felt anything? Especially happiness? Oh, he’d felt happy for his younger brother, Reid, when he finally met Casey Morrow. And he was overjoyed that Ty and Dev had finally found women they wanted to spend their lives with, too. Yes, everyone in the family was married now—except him. And each time he’d met the woman one of his younger brothers had chosen to marry, he’d felt sad, too. Sad because he knew no one would want him. He was one mean son of a bitch who didn’t give an inch in a relationship. But after what had happened to him, how could he?

That was life, Shep decided. Life had been cruel to him. And torturous. After Sarah…He quickly snapped his mind shut, like a bear trap. Pain suddenly intermingled with the quiet joy pumping through him with each powerful beat of his heart.

“That is Maggie Harper?” he demanded. “She is a graduate of Harvard Medical School, right?”

Floundering because Shep never reacted this way to a potential partner, Morgan quickly flipped to the back page of the mission folder and glanced at her bio. “Yes, Harvard.” Looking up, he narrowed his eyes. “Just what is going on here, Shep? Tell me what I don’t know. Usually you blow up when there’s a partner even mentioned. This time you’re standing over there like a raccoon grinning over a crawdad you just caught.”

Shep smiled a little more widely. “Maggie Harper was my first real relationship. We met in our freshman year at Harvard. What a hellion she was.” He shook his head in fond remembrance. “She had guts to take me on.”

Tentatively, Morgan murmured, “I see….”

Allowing his hands to slip from his hips, Shep moved back toward the desk where Morgan still stood with a confused look on his face. “I’ll take the mission, Morgan.”

Stunned, Morgan held the younger man’s stare. Shep wasn’t one to smile often. He wasn’t exactly smiling now, but the corners of his broad, generous mouth were pulled slightly upward. Morgan saw something else in Hunter’s eyes that he’d never seen before: happiness. And hope. He stared back at the color photo of Maggie Harper.

“Does she…I mean, have you had contact with Dr. Harper—”

Chuckling, Shep said, “Nope, haven’t seen her in—let’s see—almost twenty years. I think I’m going to find this interesting, Morgan. It says she’s on a sharpshooting team. Third best in the U.S. She hasn’t changed at all. She was riding eventing horses before she went to Harvard. Looks like she’s still doing the same thing—taking risks.”

“Well,” Morgan began, completely shocked by Shep’s behavior and his agreement to take the mission, “it’s yours, then.”

Rubbing his hands together, Shep said, “And I can hardly wait to meet Maggie again. This is going to be some homecoming….”

Two

Maggie rubbed her long fingers together. They were ice cold. They got that way when she was nervous. She stood in her office at OID, waiting. According to Casey, Shep Hunter would arrive at 0900, and after Casey talked to him, Maggie would be buzzed on her desk monitor to come to Casey’s office for a wrap-up on the final details of the mission.

Why, oh why, had she agreed to take the mission? In her angst, Maggie paced the length of her rectangular office, jamming her cold hands into the pockets of her white lab coat. Outside, the day was beautiful. The bright sun and dark green grass and lush trees made her yearn to be astride her Thoroughbred and galloping through the countryside. The sky was so blue it almost made her squint as she looked out the venetian blinds. Her heart and mind swung back to Shep. What a fiery relationship they’d had, each of them bullheaded, each so very sure their own way was the right way.

Maggie ran her fingers through her hair, which she wore loose today because she wasn’t going to be working in the lab. No, today was going to be spent arranging details for a very dangerous mission. Maggie told herself she had agreed to the mission because she understood the impact of anthrax bacteria being dropped by bioterrorists on some unsuspecting city. She couldn’t stand to think she would refuse a mission because the man working with her was an old boyfriend. Actually, Shep had been much, much more than that. Maggie had fallen helplessly in love with him all those years ago. He’d been a star football player while keeping his straight A average at Harvard. He was keenly intelligent, competitive, and he’d loved her with a passion that Maggie had never experienced since.

Sighing, she ran her chilled fingers through her shoulder-length hair once more. “What have you done, Maggie?” she whispered through tight lips as she ruthlessly perused her desk, which looked like a tornado had hit it. Restlessly, she picked up some papers and tried to concentrate on them.

The phone on her desk buzzed. She jumped. The paper fluttered out of her fingers and wafted to the tile floor.

“Oh!” Maggie whispered, scooping up the letters. She was jumpier than a kangaroo. Her heart was throbbing at the base of her throat. She knew it was Casey buzzing her. It was time. Reluctantly reaching for the phone, Maggie wished she was anywhere but here right now. She was actually afraid to meet Shep once again. Gulping, she picked up the phone.

“Maggie?” Casey asked.

“Yes?”

“It’s time. Come on down so I can give you two the final briefing on this mission.”

Shutting her eyes, Maggie whispered, “Okay…I’ll be right there….”

Placing the phone gently back into the cradle, Maggie tried to steady her breathing. It had been so long since she’d seen Shep. Had he changed? Had life softened him at all? Was he more inclined to listen to other people now? Or was he still arrogant and self-righteous? A chill swept through her. She felt fear—raw, unbridled fear. Chastising herself mentally, Maggie automatically touched her hair. Taking a look in the ornate, gold-framed mirror that hung in her office, she saw that her eyes looked huge. Like a rabbit about to face a starving wolf.

Her fingers were so cold they almost felt numb. She was unhappy with her reaction. She was acting like the freshman she’d been when she first met Shep. Back then, Shep always seemed to have the world by the tail. It was as if he knew what would happen next, planned for it and then executed it so easily that Maggie felt like an idiot in comparison. Hunter was always calm, cool and collected. Right now, as she swung out her door and into the highly polished hall that lead to Casey’s corner office, she felt disheveled, unprepared and scared.

Giving herself a stern talking to as she slowly walked down the hallway, she greeted her lab cohorts who passed, feeling comforted by the sight of familiar faces. The people at OID had some of the best minds in the U.S. They were at the vanguard of the attempt to keep people safe from killer bacteria and viruses.

Shep was a virus, Maggie decided with mirth. She was infected by him and hadn’t built an immunity to him yet. That was why she felt vulnerable right now. But wouldn’t eighteen years be an immunity in itself? Time was supposed to heal everything, wasn’t it?

As Maggie reached for the brass doorknob that led to Casey’s office, her heart beat hard in her breast and she quickly ran a hand over the maroon slacks she wore beneath her lab coat. Mouth dry, she closed her fingers around the doorknob. Inside that office was Hunter. She felt hunted, all right. Taking a deep breath, Maggie jerked open the door and forced herself to move quickly into the office.

Shep contained his surprise. The woman who walked resolutely through the door into Casey Morrow-Hunter’s office was even more beautiful, more poised and more confident than he could recall. Despite her small stature, Maggie carried herself proudly, that small chin of hers leading. The years had been kind to her, Shep realized with pleasure. He rose from his chair at the corner of Casey’s desk as Maggie closed the door quietly behind her.

Their eyes met for the first time. Shep felt his heart thud hard, like someone had struck him full force in his chest with a sixteen-pound sledgehammer. He struggled for breath as he studied Maggie’s oval face, her high, smooth cheekbones. The freckles across her nose and cheeks—those delicious small copper spots—were still there. He saw her nostrils flare. That was something she’d done when he knew her years earlier—something she’d done when she was afraid. Her eyes widened incredibly. He saw every nuance of every emotion she was feeling in her gaze. The fear was there, the uncertainty, the desire…yes, desire. He knew he hadn’t wrongly read what she was feeling. That made him feel good. Damn good.

“How are you?” he said, his voice deep and unruffled. Stepping forward, Shep offered his large hand to her. He saw Maggie recoil. It wasn’t so much her posture or any outward shrinking away from him; rather, it was in her jewel-like, hazel eyes.

Forcing herself to lift her hand, Maggie croaked, “Fine…just fine, Shep….” As her fingertips slid into his proffered hand, she was once again reminded how large he was. She felt like a midget in comparison. To her right, she saw Casey stand, a smile affixed to her face but trepidation in her eyes. Maggie knew she had to make this work for Casey’s sake and for the OID.

“Your hand is cold,” Shep murmured, stepping closer and placing his other over the one he’d held captive. So much was flooding back to him about Maggie. Oh, he’d never forgotten that whenever she was nervous and upright, her hands would turn freezing cold. As he covered her hand with his now, he also remembered how small and delicate and feminine her hands were compared to his huge, hairy paws. Shep strangled the desire to pull Maggie into his arms and hold her. What would she feel like? As warm and fragrant as he recalled? A hint of honeysuckle wafted into his nostrils and he drew the scent deep into his chest. He knew it was Maggie’s skin and the delicate perfume she wore. He saw her face turn a dull red as she tried to pull her hand from his.

Panicking, Maggie jerked her hand free from Shep’s. She stood there, looking up at him and thinking that life had made him even more ruggedly handsome than before. Those ice-blue eyes of his, so wide and filled with intelligence, now burned with a tender regard for her. His mouth curved in a slight smile of welcome. Hunter rarely smiled. She felt special. She felt enveloped by his intense interest in her as a woman. There was no doubt Shep was all-male. Very male and very dangerous to her wildly thudding heart. Rubbing her hands together, Maggie managed to murmur, “You haven’t changed at all, Shep.”

The corners of his mouth turned upward even more as he watched Maggie nervously rub her cold fingers together. “Eighteen years has done nothing but make you more beautiful, Maggie.” And that was the truth. He remembered the soft, young Maggie of before. This was a woman standing before him, mature and confident. He liked that. He saw her arched red brows dip momentarily in reaction to his compliment.

“Have a seat, you two,” Casey invited. She pointed to a second chair at the opposite corner of her desk, gesturing for Maggie to sit there.

Relieved, Maggie sat before she fell down. Just the way Shep perused her—with that raw, naked look that was so male—made her knees go weak. She gripped the arms of the chair, relief sheeting through her. Once more she felt Shep’s amiable inspection of her, but she refused to look at him. He was so damned intimidating when he wanted to be! Nervously smoothing her lab coat across her thigh as she crossed her legs, Maggie devoted all her attention to Casey. Shep’s sincere words echoed through her head. He thought she looked beautiful. Maggie wasn’t any cover model, that was for sure. She felt attractive, but not beautiful in the way Shep had suggested. Yet she sensed he was being sincere. That explained why her heart was galloping away within her breast.

People who knew Shep Hunter were often repelled by his glacier look, but Maggie knew the real Shep. Having gone with him for a year, she knew his expression was a façade to purposely intimidate others. He was afraid of being hurt, so he threw up this nearly impregnable don’t-even-approach-me kind of demeanor. It worked on everyone except her. She had gotten inside Shep’s considerable armor once. She knew the sensitive man who hid behind it, but his ego made him unapproachable. As she sat rigidly in the chair, her hands clasped, she wondered if Shep had kept his sensitivity. Or had life robbed him of that, too?

Maggie painfully remembered that when they broke up, Shep had left Harvard. He’d managed to get an appointment to the Air Force Academy, instead. She knew why: he couldn’t stand being at the same school with her. The pain of their breakup had been too much for him to deal with. Stealing a look out of the corner of her eye, Maggie marveled at how wonderful Shep looked. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue chinos, a white, short-sleeved shirt and a pair of jogging shoes—very California-looking compared to the more businesslike dress of the East Coast inhabitants at OID. He was deeply bronzed and obviously spent a lot of time out in the sun. His hair was still ebony with blue highlights, the short length and neat cut shouting of his military background. But it was the thick, black hair on his lower arms and the tufts of hair peeking out the top of his shirt that shouted of his masculinity.

Shep was still in superb athletic condition, Maggie realized. He had always been strong and sturdy. She recalled his football days, and decided he looked just as firm and fit now. She wouldn’t be surprised if he regularly worked out with heavy weights at a gym. Her mind continued to wander as Casey riffled through a number of papers on her desk. Was Shep still in the Air Force? Maggie had heard he’d become a pilot of some of the hottest fighter jets available. Was he married? She didn’t see a gold band on his left hand, but that didn’t mean anything. He could be living with someone. A twinge of jealousy shot through her. Surprised at her emotional reaction, Maggie felt very unhappy with herself. Why couldn’t eighteen years erase what Shep had meant to her?

“Okay, here we go,” Casey murmured, giving them both an apologetic look. Lifting out the mission brief, she said, “Morgan e-mailed this to me last night over a secure line. He wants you two to pretend that you’re a married couple from Atlanta going on a minivacation to Savannah. You will stay there, at a bed and breakfast near the heart of the city, and then, the next morning, continue your automobile journey to Hilton Head Island in South Carolina. You will stay at a time-share overnight, and the next morning continue on to Charleston. From there, you will go due north to Fairfax, Virginia, and the USAMRID facility. The reason he’s outlined his route is that it will make the best use of FBI help and protection. The roads you’ll be traveling are all interstate and therefore, easier to drive and easier for them to get to you if something goes down.”

Maggie opened her mouth and then shut it, realizing Casey wasn’t done as she continued to read from the document.

“Again, you are to pose as husband and wife. Morgan will leak out the entire scenario to Black Dawn one hour after you leave here. Black Dawn will know you are couriers in disguise. These routes will give them ample opportunity to strike at you. Morgan has given them your itinerary, route and time of arrival at these places. There will be satellite fly-bys to keep tabs on your vehicle. Each time the satellite orbits the earth, it will make a check on your location. You’ll drive an unassuming dark blue Sedan. Nothing fancy. He wants you to blend in and look like tourists on a vacation.”

Casey flipped the page. “Maggie, you will carry the aluminum suitcase, which is small and portable. It will contain the fake anthrax. The vial will be marked to make Black Dawn think it is the real thing, but it’s not. But they won’t know that they have nothing until they test it out for three days in a petrie dish.”

“Let Black Dawn get close to that suitcase.” Shep growled. He glanced over at Maggie. Did she know how very dangerous this mission really was? The thought of bullets ripping into her flesh made his stomach contract with agony.

Maggie nodded. “I’ll hand it over when the moment arrives, don’t worry,” she muttered. Just meeting Shep’s gaze sent her heart skittering. Why did he have to be so good-looking in his rough kind of way? He was no male cover model, that was for sure. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes attested to years spent living under harsh conditions. The slash marks at the sides of his mouth were deep with time—and the result of too little smiling. His prominent nose had obviously been broken several times. Maybe it was the squareness of his face and that granite chin that made him look like the untamed Rocky Mountains where he’d grown up. She knew he’d probably shaved in preparation for the meeting, but even now the shadow of returning growth gave him a decidedly dangerous countenance.

Casey nodded and flipped the page. “You will both wear flak jackets beneath your civilian clothing. You’ll get Beretta 9 mm pistols to carry on your person. The car will have bulletproof windows.”

“But not bulletproof metal?”

“No,” Casey said. “They’re doing what they can to protect you, but this is no armored car.”

Shep nodded. “I’ll do the driving.”

“No, I will.” Maggie straightened up, her anger surfacing. “I’m the courier. You’re the guard dog. Remember?”

Casey held up her hands. “I think there will be plenty of driving for both of you. This is going to take all your attention, your concentration. Each of you can drive for a couple of hours and then switch off. It will keep you fresh and alert.”

Maggie bristled. How like Shep to just walk in and take over. He was beginning to treat her like that little freshman he knew so long ago. Well, she’d grown up. She was damned if he was going to start making decisions without consulting her first! Glaring across the space at him, she saw him scowl. Too bad. He was going to find out that she wasn’t the weak little girl he’d met back at Harvard.

“Please understand,” Casey said, looking at Maggie, “that just because the FBI is working with us doesn’t mean they can protect you twenty-four hours a day. They are human. And so are you. There will be surveillance, but technically, you two are on your own. The cell phone has an emergency number you can dial if they attack. It may take fifteen to thirty minutes to get to you if something happens, depending upon your position when an attack takes place. The FBI can’t tail you or Black Dawn will pick up on the fact. They will be stationed at certain points along the interstate, on alert, if you do need help. That’s the best we can do.”

Maggie squirmed. “I understand that, Casey. But why have us married? Why can’t we have separate rooms?”

“Because,” she said patiently, “Morgan wants Black Dawn to think we’re stupid enough to use such a ruse. We want them to think we’re inept.”

The news that she would be staying in the same room with Shep was a shock to Maggie. She’d never fathomed such a thing happening. It was simply too much for her to imagine. “But,” she protested, opening her hands in appeal, “I don’t see the wisdom of it.”

“There’s safety in numbers,” Shep said as he met and held her widening hazel gaze. His conscience pricked at him. It was obvious Maggie wanted nothing to do with him. Her file said she was single, but it didn’t give him a wealth of information about her private life. Maybe she was living with a man? That thought didn’t set well with him. Silently chiding himself, he realized he was still just as protective about her now as he had been then!

“Safe?” Maggie’s voice was laced with sarcasm. “There’s nothing ‘safe’ about you, Hunter.”

His mouth worked and a corner lifted. “That was a long time ago, Maggie. I think I can control myself for your benefit.”

Flushing deeply, Maggie refused to look at him or Casey. She was making a fool out of herself and was old enough to know better. Knitting her fingers together, she said in a raspy tone, “I still don’t think it’s a good idea to stay together in the same room. If we had separate rooms next to one another, we’d at least have a chance if Black Dawn tries to blow us away. It would make it harder for them to get to the two of us.”

Casey nodded. “That’s the point. We want to make it easy for Black Dawn to get to you.”

Chagrined, Maggie saw the simplicity of Morgan’s plan. “I see….”

Casey stood. “Here is your wedding band set.”

Stunned, Maggie took the box. Casey went over and gave Shep one. Opening hers, Maggie saw it contained a gold band and a solitaire engagement ring.

“Don’t worry,” Casey said with a laugh as she stood between them, “it’s all fake. Plate gold and zircons, Maggie.”

“At least we don’t have to stand in front of a preacher,” she groused as she studied the bands.

Shep rose easily. “Here, let me put them on you, Maggie.”

Casey smiled down at Maggie. “Great idea.”

Stunned, Maggie watched Shep approach. “No thanks, I can do this myself.” She quickly shoved the rings on the proper finger. There was no way she wanted Shep to touch her. Already her flesh was begging for his touch. Would it be the same as she recalled? Better? Worse? Why did he have to move with such a boneless grace? For all his size, he reminded her of a lithe African leopard. She saw the disappointment in his eyes as she refused his help. Well, he’d better get used to it. She had a mind of her own and he might as well learn that now.

Shep stood watching Maggie. Her cheeks were stained a bright red as she jammed the rings on her hand. It occurred to him that he’d never met another woman even remotely like her. He felt an old ache from a wound that still scored his heart from their breakup. Only flying his jet, when he was in the Air Force, would assuage some of the loss he’d felt when they’d parted. But it had been a necessary parting. He and Maggie never saw eye to eye on anything.

Looking down at her, he met her challenging gaze. “Casey suggested we have lunch, go over the details and then start the mission tomorrow morning. How about it?” He saw her thin brows draw downward in protest and knew nothing had changed between them. She was nervously fingering the fake wedding ring set on her left hand, as if it were a germ infecting her. As if giving in to him on any point would kill her.

“Oh…all right. There’s a cafeteria in the basement. We can go there.” She looked at her watch. It was only nine-thirty. “Besides, it will be practically deserted now.”

“I had a nicer place in mind,” Shep said.

Rising smartly, Maggie glanced at Casey and then drilled him with a look. “The cafeteria is fine. This isn’t pleasure, Shep. It’s business. I want it kept that way.”

The warning growl in her voice made his gut clench. Did she hate him that much? Distaste was clearly written in her expression. But Shep thought he saw fear edging her gaze as she moved robotically toward the door. She kept rubbing her left hand against her lab smock. Fear of him? Why? He had a helluva lot of questions and no answers.

Following Maggie out into the hall, he told Casey they’d be back later. In his hand, he carried a black leather briefcase. As Maggie walked briskly ahead of him, a number of people said hello to her. He watched her face thaw as she cheerfully engaged them in conversation. Damn. This was going to be hell, he told himself as he entered the elevator with her.

Maggie punched the basement button and then made sure she stood opposite Shep. He looked very unhappy. Clasping her hands, Maggie internally rebelled against the wedding ring set. She kept running the bands around and around on her finger. The elevator felt claustrophobic to her. Shep Hunter filled it with his size, and with the incredible quiet charisma that radiated from him like a thousand glowing suns.

As soon as the doors whooshed open, Maggie strode confidently out of the elevator. Choosing a table and chairs near the window, on one side of the cafeteria, she sat down. Shep sauntered over and placed the briefcase on one of the empty chairs.

“Can I get you some coffee?” he asked. “If I remember right, you like it sweet and blond.”

Maggie sat very still. She looked up at him. She saw the struggle in Shep’s normally inexpressive face. His voice was low and intimate. Her flesh prickled. Oh, how tender a lover he could be! All that hard invincibility melted away to leave a man with breath-stealing sensitivity in its wake. Maggie found herself aching to be with that man once again. Stymied, and afraid of her own heart, she muttered with defiance, “Yes, coffee would be fine, thank you.”

He smiled a little at her petulance. “And if I’m reading you correctly, a shot of brandy in it to quell your nerves?”

Shutting her eyes, Maggie felt her heart blossoming beneath his gentle cajoling. No, Shep was still the old Shep she knew. Oh, how was she going to survive this? She was more afraid of him than the damned assignment!

Opening her eyes, she fearlessly met the warmth that now filled his blue gaze. “Right now, a shot of whiskey would be my choice.”

Nodding, he said, “I think I understand why. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Just watching him saunter over to the serving area, Maggie sighed. She was being nasty to him when he didn’t deserve it. Yet he seemed to be taking her in stride and not letting her attitude get to him personally.

When Shep arrived back at their table, he held a tray filled with food. He set a cup of coffee in front of Maggie, and then a saucer that contained a huge pecan sticky bun. He placed a second plate, piled high with fluffy scrambled eggs, six slices of bacon, hash browns and grits, on his side of the table.

“I’m not hungry,” Maggie said, pushing the plate with the sticky bun toward him as he sat down.

“I remember it was your favorite pastry,” he told her, unruffled, as he settled into the chair. The look on her face was one of puzzlement and heartbreaking sadness. With a one-shouldered shrug, he murmured, “But look, if you aren’t hungry, I’ll eat it.”

Not hungry? Maggie was starved for his touch. Even the briefest of ones. But Shep could never know that. “Thanks…you can have it.”

Scooping up a forkful of the eggs, he gazed across at Maggie as she wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug. “You still get cold fingers when you’re upset.”

Nodding, she took a sip of the coffee. “I switched to drinking tea a long time ago, Hunter. Being around you makes me want to have coffee again.”

His mouth curved in a slight smile. “So, is this good or bad, Dr. Harper?” he deliberately teased her. For a moment, Shep saw her shoulders, which were gathered with tension, begin to relax slightly.

“Being around you is like a bad cold returning.”

“Thank you.”

“Only you would take that as a compliment, Hunter!”

Chuckling, he spread some strawberry jam on his toast. “You haven’t changed at all, Maggie. I was wondering if you had, but I can see you haven’t.”

“Well,” she said under her breath, leaning forward so only he could hear her, “you haven’t, either.”

Gazing at her was like looking at a delicious dessert to him. “So, where does that leave us?”

“At odds with one another. As usual.”

“Eighteen years is a long time, Maggie.”

“And it’s like a blink of an eye, because you were the same then as you are now.”

“Thank you—I think.”

“Don’t start preening, Hunter, because it wasn’t a compliment and you know it.”

“How’s your coffee? Did I get the right amount of cream and sugar in it?”

Flushing, she refused to meet his gaze. Hands gripping her cup, she looked down at it. “Like I said, nothing has changed.”

“We’re older, if that helps?”

“Just more stuck in our same old patterns and personalities as far as I’m concerned,” Maggie retorted. She saw his gaze thaw considerably. When she realized he really wasn’t taking anything she said personally, she was stunned. Back then, he had. They’d fought all the time. Fought and made up. And the making up had been incredibly delicious.

“Maybe,” he said. “Life has thrown me a couple of curves. I hope I’ve learned from them.”

She sipped her coffee, feeling rebellious. Hunter always brought out her feistiness. Only he could. She wasn’t explosive like this with any other man she’d ever had a relationship with. Only around him. “Whatever the reasons, Shep, you bring out the worst in me. All we did then was fight, and from the looks of it, it’s starting up all over again.” Her nostrils flared. She hated it when her voice quivered with emotion as it did now.

Shep ate slowly, thinking about how he was going to handle Maggie on this mission. There was much more at stake here than she realized. He had to be the boss on this venture whether she liked it or not. At this moment, he wasn’t ready to tell her that. They had a day to get ready. One way or another, Maggie was going to have to bend to his way of doing things. Or else…

Three

“I’ll drive,” Shep said, heading around the car they would be using. The vehicle was parked in the underground garage of the OID building. The July morning was warm and humid, hinting of the high temperatures and humidity to come in the sultry afternoon hours.

“Hold your horses, Hunter.”

He turned, surprised at the warning in Maggie’s voice. As she stood near the passenger side of the car, Shep had a tough time keeping his gaze from devouring her, because to him, she looked beautiful in the comfortable khaki slacks and dark blue blouse she wore. The sleeves of the blouse were decorated with a touch of lace, giving her a very feminine look. Beneath the silk of the blouse he knew she wore her flak jacket, mandatory on this mission. He was wearing his beneath his white shirt and sport coat. Already the thing was beginning to chafe him, but he knew the wisdom of wearing it.

“What?” She was looking at him with her eyes narrowed. Shep knew that look. Halting, his hands on the top of the car near the driver’s door, he said, “What’s the problem?”

“How can you ask?” Maggie demanded. She tried mightily to ignore how handsome he looked this morning. His black hair was damp and gleaming from his recent shower. His jaw was scraped free of the shadow of beard that would inevitably appear in the afternoon hours. His eyes were bloodshot, and she wondered if he’d gotten much sleep last night. She sure hadn’t; too much of their tortured and passionate past had kept resurrecting itself before her closed eyes while she lay in bed. “Shep, this is not a replay of eighteen years ago. You think you know everything. You think that, as usual, I’m a hothouse violet incapable of being your equal.”

“Wait a minute—”

“No,” Maggie said coolly, locking her gaze on his frosty one, “it’s different this time, Hunter. And you are going to have to be a lot more flexible than you were two decades ago. Or else!” She held up the keys to the car and smiled a little. “I’m driving.”

“I suppose you’ve taken evasive driver’s training?”

“Yes.”

“And terrorist evasive training, as well?”

“I can see the surprise in your eyes right now, Hunter.” She gave him a smile that dripped with honey. “Yes. And just in case you ask me when, I’m certified for the next year. I just passed the two courses, for the fifth year in a row.”

One corner of his mouth flexed upward. “Maybe you have changed,” he admitted sourly. “Okay, you drive for two hours, and then we’ll trade off in shifts. How’s that sound to you?” He decided to concede to her on this point, knowing there would be tougher battles ahead—things he couldn’t allow Maggie to do herself, for fear she’d get killed. Like Sarah.

Maggie was pleased that he was thinking in partnership terms right now. “That sounds fair and equitable, Mr. Hunter. Thank you for your consideration.” She saw his blue eyes glimmer with unease. And the slight downward movement of his hard mouth made her openly grin in triumph. “Nothing has changed at all with you, Hunter, through all these years. You are the same guy I knew way back when.”

“Some things don’t change,” he agreed grumpily. Shep moved around the rear of the car. As Maggie passed him, their hands brushed. How he ached to really touch her, to be able to slide his fingers knowingly up that smooth, warm flesh. He recalled how wonderful she had felt in his arms as they made torrid love to one another.

Once inside the car Shep forced his mind back to business, taking note of the special equipment in the vehicle. An onboard computer showed the map of the area where they would be driving, including all the rural routes and all the country roads. Georgia was full of country roads, and if they got into trouble, they would have to know which one to take to try and escape their pursuers. There were two different radios, one connected to the state police and the other a direct line to the FBI van, a mobile headquarters that would shadow their journey. After testing each instrument to make sure it was operational, he glanced over at Maggie as she strapped in with a special seat harness and adjusted the mirrors.

“I hate flak jackets,” she griped as she scratched beneath her right arm.

Shep nodded and shut the door. “They’re necessary.” He strapped himself in, turned on the computer and opened a laptop, which was plugged into the car lighter. The laptop was mounted where the glove box should have been and sat on a small movable table in front of him, fitting comfortably above his thighs. “Part of the game we’re entering,” he warned her, in case she had any thought of ditching it because it was uncomfortable.

Glancing at Maggie once more, he felt his heart beat hard, underscoring how much he still…still cared about her. Nightmarish visions of Sarah’s death suddenly filled his mind. Blinking hard, he removed the specter. No, he wouldn’t let Maggie meet Sarah’s tragic end. It had been his fault that his one and only partner at Perseus had been killed in the line of duty. His fault. Only his. Shep would be damned if Maggie got caught in the line of fire because of him. No, he had to control this mission from the get-go—whether Maggie liked it or not. Her life was at stake. He’d lost one woman he’d loved to a bullet. He wasn’t about to lose Maggie, too.

“Everything up and running?” Maggie asked as she switched on the car’s engine. The Sedan purred to life.

“Roger that,” he said, doing a double-check on their computer map. “I’ll give you the directions to get on—”

“Never mind,” Maggie said briskly, “I memorized the route to Savannah last night.” She proceeded to verbally give him the details of where they were supposed to drive. Their route had been set up by the vigilant FBI, and there would be cars with agents placed along certain milepost markers, where other roads intersected the freeway, so that the FBI could give them help sooner rather than later, if they called for it. The unmarked white van would always be on the freeway, ten miles behind them, to relay such information to the awaiting agents.

She saw his face darken as she reeled off the routes in perfect order. What was the matter with Shep? He should be pleased with her preparation for this mission. Instead, he was looking at her oddly. And he seemed more controlling than she last recalled. Not that Shep had ever been Mr. Sharing. Nope, not him. Smiling a little, she put the car in reverse and backed out of the space.

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