An alpha hero falls for the woman he’s sworn to take down in Amelia Autin’s latest Man on a Mission romance!

Help her. That’s all Niall Jones can think to do when his target almost panics. Undercover operative Niall is tracking suspected traitor Dr. Savannah Whitman, but when she comes under threat, he can’t help but swoop in to save her. And the sparks that fly between the secret agent and Savannah are anything but covert.

After a personal tragedy, Savannah decided to depart her high-security defense job to live life to the fullest. But she never expected to meet a sexy, mysterious stranger—or for her very safety to be under siege...and enigmatic Niall is the only one who can protect her!

“A challenge?” Niall murmured. “I love a challenge.”

He would. Savannah didn’t know how she knew that about him, but she did. He wasn’t talking about carrying on a conversation with her, of course. She wasn’t that naive. He was talking sex, plain and simple. She caught her breath, then shook her head. “I won’t be much of a challenge,” she said before she could think about how unwise it was to admit it.

He didn’t move closer, but somehow it felt as if he had. And instead of that choked-up feeling that always overcame her whenever she feared she couldn’t escape, this time her shortness of breath had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with excitement.

“You’re no pushover,” he told her, that tantalizing smile in his eyes matching the one on his lips. “Damned if I know what you are, but I know that much.”

Kiss me and find out.

* * *

Be sure to check out the previous volumes in the Man on a Mission miniseries!

Man on a Mission: These heroes, working at home and overseas, will do anything for justice, honor...and love

Dear Reader,

When I wrote Cody Walker’s Woman, I gave my heroine, Keira Jones, four brothers—all older, all former US Marines and all playing a role (good and bad) in shaping the woman she was.

Then I wrote Alec’s Royal Assignment, Liam’s Witness Protection and Killer Countdown, the stories of three of Keira’s brothers. But Niall—the second child of five, like me—was elusive. All I really knew about him at that point was how Liam described his brother in Liam’s Witness Protection—a onetime US Marine and now a black ops warrior. But that description alone captivated readers, who begged me for his story.

I fell in love with Niall when he showed up out of the blue in Killer Countdown to help his elder brother, Shane. Writing about Niall was easy after that, but I needed a woman to match him. All the Jones brothers except Niall had found exceptional women to love—Angelina, Cate and Carly. How could Niall settle for anything less?

Enter the brilliant Dr. Savannah Whitman, quietly exceptional. She’s not looking for love, especially in the arms of a man who lives in the shadows. But Robert Herrick wrote hundreds of years ago, “How Love came in, I do not know.” And neither do Niall and Savannah. Somehow, though, love creeps in on catlike feet when we least expect it, and Niall and Savannah are no exception in Black Ops Warrior.

I love hearing from my readers. Please e-mail me at AmeliaAutin@aol.com and let me know what you think.

Amelia

Black Ops Warrior

Amelia Autin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Award-winning author AMELIA AUTIN is an inveterate reader who can’t bear to put a good book down...or part with it. She’s a longtime member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), and served three years as its treasurer. Amelia resides with her PhD engineer husband in quiet Vail, Arizona, where they can see the stars at night and have a “million-dollar view” of the Rincon Mountains from their backyard.

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For all the US Marines I’ve known and the ones I haven’t, men and women who place their lives on the line to keep our country safe. For Susan Kyser Frank and Harry A. Frank, who understand that US Marines are a rare breed. And for Vincent...always.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Niall Jones’s life depended on him blending into the background wherever he was. Moving through the shadows as if he was a shadow himself. And no one was better at it. Others came close, but he was the best. He’d lost track of how many disguises he’d donned. How many aliases he’d used. How many lives he’d led. When he assumed a role, he became the role. Until the next time.

Which was exactly what he was doing now. He watched his target through seemingly sleepy eyes, but he knew every breath she drew. Every rise and fall of slight breasts that wouldn’t normally attract his attention. Her face, too, was unremarkable. Not unattractive, but not the kind of face that would automatically draw a second or a third glance.

And yet...there was something about her mouth. Something that piqued his interest and held his gaze. Sweetly curving lips that smiled more often than not, but also hinted at restrained passion. Lips that made him wonder what they’d taste like, feel like beneath his, if he kissed her.

Not that he had any intention of kissing her...unless it was necessary. Dr. Savannah Whitman was his target, and he couldn’t lose sight of that fact. She might look sweet, innocent and far younger than the thirty-six years he knew her to be—that delicate skin of hers, the lack of makeup and the way she wore her hair might have something to do with it—but she could very well be a cold, calculating traitor. And if there was one thing Niall hated, it was traitors, people who would sell out their country for any reason.

He knew more about her than most of her friends. He knew the relevant details about her life, from the day she was born until now.

He knew exactly how much money she had in the bank, that she hadn’t attended her high school senior prom, that she had three patents to her name with a fourth pending. He knew the phobia she’d struggled against for most of her life, and when and why it had first afflicted her. And he knew she’d resigned her top secret job with an international defense contractor the day after her parents’ funeral.

What he didn’t know was what made her tick. What was going on in her head. Why she’d resigned and what she intended to do now with the highly classified data stored in the memory banks of her mind. Data the US government would love to erase...but couldn’t. And most important, if she really was a security risk as the government feared.

Which was why he was here, shadowing her footsteps as she took this fifteen-day land tour and river cruise through northern China. Which was why he might very well be called upon to romance her, as a way to get close enough to compile evidence that would stand up in court to convict her of espionage. Which was why...as a last resort...he just might have to kill her.

Chapter 1

Savannah Whitman stood on the ramparts of the Great Wall of China, staring up at the sea of humanity ascending and descending the steep incline to the top of this section of the wall in the Badaling Hills north of Beijing. It was a work day, so she couldn’t understand why so many people were here. This was not the way she’d envisioned it would be when she’d spent thousands of dollars on this guided tour. She’d picked this specific tour in large part because the pictures in the brochure made it appear as if she’d be mostly on her own as she crossed several items off her bucket list of things she just had to see once in her lifetime—the Great Wall and the Forbidden City in Beijing, the terracotta warriors in Xi’an. And the Yangtze, of course, the longest river in the world that began and ended in the same country.

She sighed softly as she was jostled by those eager to pass her and begin the climb to the top of this well-preserved section of the fabled wall. She wanted to go up there, too. She did. But...

Coward, she jeered at herself. Coward, because she didn’t deal well with crowds. She’d thought she’d be practically alone on the Great Wall, with only thoughts of her parents to keep her company, but now her breath came in little panicked spurts as she tried to fight back her enochlophobia. You spent good money to see the Great Wall, she reminded herself. You can do this. You can! Just take a deep breath. Lots of deep breaths. Then put one foot in front of the other and climb up there, damn it!

But the unreasoning fear had such a hold on her she couldn’t move. Not even to escape by struggling through the crowd to the gondolas that had brought her and the rest of her tour group this far.

Then from above her head she heard a warm, deep voice speaking English. “Just breathe,” the man said gently as he herded her away from the crowd and against the stone railing. “Breathe deeply.”

When he said that, she realized somehow she was no longer being pushed, bumped or elbowed. Her rescuer had used his body to create a tiny space for her in the crowd, and she closed her eyes in thankfulness. Yes, her back was pressed against an ungiving stone wall that had been built millennia ago, but at least she wasn’t hemmed in by people. And the man wasn’t squashed up against her, either—some distance separated them, as if he knew she couldn’t bear to be touched at this moment.

She opened her eyes and stared at a broad chest wearing a light, khaki-colored jacket. And on the jacket she spotted a familiar badge, exactly like the one she was wearing but with his name on it instead of hers—he was one of her tour group. “Oh, thank God.”

He must have heard her fervent whisper because a laugh rumbled out of him. But she knew instinctively he wasn’t laughing at her. At least, he wasn’t laughing at her fear. He was laughing because she’d amused him somehow.

Her eyes focused on the name written on his badge. Niall Johnson. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” she managed, now that she could breathe again. Then her gaze moved up. And up. And up. Until she reached his face and she blinked. Holy cow! she thought. How was it she hadn’t noticed him before? Because beneath the shaggy light brown hair was a face that was indubitably memorable, with nearly classical features. And his eyes... His eyes were such a deep, dark brown she could almost see herself reflected in their depths.

“Niall,” he said now. “Just call me Niall. And you’re...” He peered down at her nametag. “Savannah Whitman. May I call you Savannah?”

“Oh yes. Please do.” Then her tongue tied itself into knots and she couldn’t think of a single thing to add. Which was nothing new where the opposite sex was concerned.

In all modesty, Savannah knew she was a brilliant engineer. Top in her field of missile guidance, navigation and control, with three patents before she’d reached the midpoint of her thirties. She could talk for hours without notes when it came to such esoteric subjects as time to go, field of view and line of sight. She could teach classes on those subjects, too, and had. She could write complex algorithms that maybe a thousand people in the world could easily decipher. She’d been so valuable to the US government and her previous employer they’d practically begged her not to resign, even playing the “you owe a duty to your country” card.

But when it came to men in a social situation—especially handsome men like Niall Johnson—words escaped her. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her hands shook. And she felt as if she were standing there naked. Defenseless.

But then something remarkable happened. Niall smiled down at her. And his eyes held such understanding Savannah knew she had nothing to fear where he was concerned. His eyes lingered on her mouth and she knew he was attracted to her. Maybe not as attracted to her as she was to him—he was an assault on her senses, so tall and solidly male he practically oozed testosterone—but apparently he felt she could hold her own with him. Unusual and refreshing. So refreshing she believed it for some reason she couldn’t fathom.

He was a total stranger, and yet she felt as if she knew him. As if she could be comfortable with him, the way she was with the next-door-neighbor boys she’d grown up with in Vail, Arizona. Boys who had become men, but not men she looked at as men. And they saw her as a friend and colleague, not as a woman.

But that wasn’t how Niall Johnson was looking at her. The warm interest in his dark eyes was as tangible as a caress. Savannah shivered slightly under his steady gaze, her nipples tightening. As if...as if...

“I don’t know about you, but I really want to climb to the top,” Niall said, indicating what he meant by a motion of his thumb. “Now that you’ve caught your breath, how about we do it together?”

She loved how he made it sound as if her panic attack earlier was nothing more than shortness of breath due to exertion. His eyes told her he understood the true cause, but they also conveyed a rock-solid belief she could conquer her fear and conquer the wall at the same time. And that belief made her willing to risk it.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you lead the way? Then you can set the pace...whatever you’re comfortable with. I’ll be right behind you, making sure no one bumps into you. How’s that?”

No one would dare jostle him, she acknowledged silently. She didn’t know how he knew her fear wasn’t so much of people, and not even of those behind her, but rather of people coming up behind her unseen. People touching her when she wasn’t expecting it. Feeling trapped. But somehow, he seemed to know.

“You don’t mind?” She hated the hesitant tone in her voice, but she had to ask. It was patently obvious he could get to the top much faster alone than accompanying her, even though she desperately wanted to go up there with him keeping the crowd at bay.

His smile grew, and Savannah’s abdomen quivered under the blatant male interest in his dark eyes. She’d never had a man look at her as if she was Little Red Riding Hood and he was the Big Bad Wolf waiting to gobble her up. And she was shocked to realize this was another item on her bucket list, one she hadn’t realized was there until this instant. Just once in my life I want a man to—

She cut that thought off before she could put it into words...even though they were only in her head. But for the first time in her thirty-six years of always being practical and playing it safe, she let go of her hold on reality and snatched at the fantasy that miraculously appeared to be within her grasp. This whole tour and cruise was a dream come true. Why couldn’t Niall Johnson be part of it?

She wasn’t crazy enough to believe in love at first sight. And she wasn’t having rosy visions of happily-ever-after. But no man had ever, ever made her body meltingly aware of every breath he drew the way Niall Johnson did. And she decided then and there that if he planned to seduce her into his bed, she was totally on board with that idea.

* * *

It’s almost too easy, Niall thought as he stood behind Savannah, protecting her from the crowd while she gazed in rapt wonder at the view from the top of the wall. Like shooting a stationary target.

“Where’s your camera?” he asked abruptly, wanting to distract himself from thoughts that were making him uncomfortable...but shouldn’t. She was his assignment. He needed to remember that.

“Oh.” She glanced up at him over her shoulder. “I wasn’t thinking...” Her right hand fumbled in the pocket of her padded vest and pulled out a camera. He noted the make and model effortlessly—noticing things, logging them into his brain for future reference, was second nature to him. He couldn’t not be aware of everything around him...including the expression on Savannah’s face that she had no idea conveyed how absolutely vulnerable she was to his brand of charm. Charm he had no business using on an innocent victim.

Whoa! Where did that thought come from? he berated himself. Dr. Savannah Whitman could very well be a traitor. And if she was, she deserved every bad thing he might do to her, up to and including taking her out. If absolutely necessary. He couldn’t allow her to reveal what she knew to his country’s enemies. He wouldn’t allow it.

* * *

Savannah gazed out over the rolling hills, then snapped a few photos. “The GPS doesn’t work in China, you know,” she told him, a trace of regret in her voice. “I bought this camera for this trip specifically because of that feature. I wanted a permanent GPS record of every place I visited. But...” She sighed. “I’m not exactly sure why, but it doesn’t work. It worked just fine in the US—I tested it. Do you think the Chinese government is somehow blocking the signal?”

“Could be,” he said cautiously. He knew the answer. But he wasn’t about to reveal to her that he knew or how he knew.

She chuckled suddenly, taking him by surprise. “And you couldn’t care less, one way or the other.” She turned within the frame of his arms, her face alight with humor. “Sorry. I’m babbling. I have a bad habit of blurting out what’s on my mind. Even worse, my mind tends to jump around a lot—that’s the engineer in me. So carrying on a normal conversation with me is a challenge.”

“A challenge?” he murmured. “I love a challenge.”

He would. She didn’t know how she knew that about him, but she did. He wasn’t talking about carrying on a conversation with her, of course. She wasn’t that naive. He was talking sex, plain and simple. She caught her breath, then shook her head. “I won’t be much of a challenge,” she said before she could think about how unwise it was to admit it.

He didn’t move closer, but somehow it felt as if he had. And instead of the choked-up feeling that always overcame her whenever she feared she couldn’t escape, this time her shortness of breath had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with excitement.

“You’re no pushover,” he told her, that tantalizing smile in his eyes matching the one on his lips. “Damned if I know what you are, but I know that much.”

Kiss me and find out.

Savannah was aghast at herself, until she realized she hadn’t actually uttered those words out loud. But then Niall’s head came down, shortening the distance between them, and his lips brushed hers. Just a delicate touch, but she trembled. Made an inarticulate sound deep in her throat. And her hands came up of their own volition to clutch his arms. To hold him right where he was. To keep him kissing her.

Then he deepened the contact, and Savannah lost any grasp she had on reality. Being kissed by Niall, feeling his body rock-hard against the softness of hers as he held her with male intent, sent her into an alternate universe, one where she could only cling to him for safety. She couldn’t escape but she didn’t want to escape. Not from him.

Suddenly, Savannah realized a little sound of arousal and surrender was coming from her throat. She tried to break away, to free herself from his powerful spell...and he let her go.

It was only a slight movement on her part, but he responded immediately. And that impressed the hell out of her. Most men she knew wouldn’t have. Most men would have tried to overcome what they thought was merely token resistance on her part. But not Niall. He had incredible self-control...and a will to match.

“Seen enough?” he asked eventually, after her heartbeat slowed...as if they hadn’t just spent the last few minutes not taking in the magnificent view at all. “We still have to fight our way back down to the gondolas and make it to the tour bus before eleven. And our tour guide warned us to allow forty-five minutes for that, to be on the safe side.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s ten after ten now.”

Savannah couldn’t believe how the time had flown. And Niall must have read her crestfallen expression, because his eyes held understanding as he turned her gently to face outward again. “We have five minutes,” he said in his deep voice. “Make the most of them.”

Gratitude washed through her. Not just that he seemed to get how much this meant to her, that she was actually here on the top of the Great Wall the way she’d dreamed of being since she was a little girl. But also for the fact that he was here with her. Holding her safe. Sheltering her from the crowd.

“It’s amazing,” she managed in wistful tones. “I’ve seen pictures of course. My mom and I used to—” She stopped abruptly, afraid she’d be overcome with emotion if she continued that line of thought. She sighed a little to herself, suppressing the pang, and said instead, “The sheer immensity of it is unbelievable.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think so?”

He nodded slowly. “Unbelievable.” But he wasn’t looking at the view. And Savannah knew he was talking about her.

* * *

The steep walk back down passed in a blur. A comfortable blur where she didn’t panic once. The gondola ride, too. Savannah scurried into the slow-moving car when it was her turn, but Niall took so long entering after her no one else managed to crowd in with them. Then he sat down next to her, when he could have had the entire opposite seat to himself, and Savannah knew he’d deliberately maneuvered things this way, something he confirmed with, “I’ll bet you’re glad for a little privacy.”

She wanted to express her thanks, but the words wouldn’t come. She just gazed at him instead. But he seemed to get her message, because one corner of his mouth twitched upward in a half grin. “Yeah. Can’t say as I know what it’s like, being afraid of crowds. But I do enjoy privacy myself. At home—” He broke off suddenly, and Savannah wondered what he’d intended to say. And why he’d stopped himself from saying it.

Savannah and small talk in a social situation didn’t normally peacefully coexist. But she suddenly wanted to know everything she could about Niall, so she asked softly, “Where’s home?”

“Washington, DC.” That alpha male smile was back in full force. “And you?”

“Vail, Arizona. Just east of Tucson.”

“Born and raised?”

She nodded. “I’ve lived there all my life, except for my college years. What about you?”

He shook his head. “Denver. Then four years in the Marine Corps, stationed all over hell and gone.”

“What made you decide to settle down in DC?” The question tumbled out before she could stop herself.

His expression didn’t actually change, so Savannah didn’t know how she knew but somehow she did—this wasn’t a question Niall was going to answer in detail. And she was right. “Work,” he said briefly. “And you? Where do you work?”

“I don’t, actually.”

He raised his brows. “Lady of leisure?”

She shook her head vehemently. “I should have said I don’t work right now. Although I’m sure I’ll go back to it after this year.”

“What’s so special about this year?” When Savannah hesitated, he said, “Sorry, don’t answer if it makes you uncomfortable. I have a bad habit of asking questions I shouldn’t.”

She tore her gaze away from his and realized their gondola was almost at the terminus. “It’s a long story,” she finally admitted. “And—”

“And now’s not a good time for a long story,” he finished for her. “How about over dinner? Dinner tonight is at our hotel, as I recall. We can find a quiet spot and you can tell me all about it.” His hand reached out and cupped her cheek, gently turning her face to his. His gaze lingered on her mouth for a moment before he added, “And at the same time, you can tell me what’s lacking in the male population of Vail, Arizona.”

Bewildered, she let her eyes ask for elucidation. His voice was deep, male and sent shivers of awareness through her as he said, “You can explain how it’s even remotely possible a woman like you is traveling on an excursion like this alone.”

Chapter 2

Savannah surveyed the contents of the closet in her hotel room with disfavor. As if something incredibly eye-catching and seductive would miraculously appear if she stared long enough, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t own anything incredibly eye-catching and seductive. And if she did, most likely she wouldn’t have brought it on this trip anyway. Slacks, blouses, sweaters and jeans were all she’d packed. Not a single dress. Well, there was that dressy tunic to be worn over slacks, which she’d packed for the Welcome Reception on the river cruise portion of the tour. But it wasn’t nearly sexy enough for a dinner date with Niall Johnson.

Then she took herself severely to task. “It’s not a date. It’s just...dinner.”

But dinner with a man who looked at her the way she’d dreamed of having a man look at her. As if she was irresistible. As if he wanted to do unspeakably wonderful things to her body...all night long.

Her imagination immediately went into overdrive and her nipples tightened unbearably. Unexpected heat in her core sent the blood rushing to her cheeks, and all of a sudden she grabbed her purse off the bed and headed for the door. There were at least two elegant shops on the first floor of this five-star hotel. And she had time...if she didn’t dawdle.

* * *

Five hundred seventy-three dollars poorer, Savannah opened her hotel door at Niall’s knock, and he literally did a double take. “Wow. I mean...” He seemed at a loss for words, and the stunned expression in his eyes conveyed that every penny had been well spent. “Wow,” he said again.

“Thanks.” She thought about adding, Just a little something I packed at the last minute, but she didn’t think she could pull it off. Instead, she admitted, “I kind of got carried away in the stores downstairs.” Which she had. The peach-colored frock, with its frothy, layered-chiffon skirt and coyly plunging neckline, was one she’d never even imagined trying on. But the saleswoman in the shop had known her business, and before Savannah had realized it, she’d bought the dress, sheer stockings and silk-and-lace wisps of panties and a bra.

Then, because she’d already splurged, she’d headed for the drugstore and the cosmetics counter there. Peach lip gloss to match the dress, of course, and eye shadow to make her gray eyes smoky and mysterious—it was amazing what a little makeup did to change a woman’s appearance. Not to mention what it did for a woman’s self-esteem in a social setting.

She didn’t wear makeup as a general rule, because she’d always wanted to be taken seriously as an engineer. Not as a woman engineer. So she’d never worn it at work, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to apply it. She’d experimented in middle and high school like most girls, and she knew what suited her. But it had been a long time.

Niall looked fantastic in gray slacks and a long-sleeved white dress shirt, but then he had this morning, too, in much more casual clothes. His slightly-too-long brown hair would have looked ungroomed on another man, but on Niall...it was perfect. Out of the blue, she thought of Kurt Russell as Wyatt Earp in the movie Tombstone, and realized she’d hit the nail on the head. She could so envision him as a gunslinger in the Wild West.

He was watching her mouth again. Something about that intent stare thrilled Savannah to no end. She would normally be flustered by male attention of that sort—not that she’d had all that much of it in her life, in large part because she’d eschewed it—but still...

It was different with Niall, though. He made her feel desired, but safe...in an unsafe sort of way. In other words, as safe as she wanted to be.

But she didn’t want to be. She’d spent all that money on this dress and everything else, for one reason and one reason only. She wanted to throw caution to the winds. She wanted to be reckless for once in her life. She wanted to be wild and wanton. And she had every intention of letting Niall teach her how to be wild and wanton, things at which she was absolutely sure he was an expert.

Which was why she’d bought something else at the drugstore. She’d hidden the little box in the nightstand by her bed, but she was acutely aware it was there. And if she played her cards right tonight, Niall would be using its contents. Multiple times.

* * *

Niall told himself it was just the dress and the makeup. Fine feathers make a fine bird, he reminded himself cynically. But he was lying to himself...and he never did that. Which meant it wasn’t the dress, and it wasn’t the makeup. It was the woman he was attracted to. He’d been entranced by her lips earlier today, and there hadn’t been a trace of lip gloss on them then.

Desire had tugged at his loins when he’d created that little space for her on the Great Wall, and he’d wanted to pull her into his arms and possess that mouth with a single-mindedness that made a mockery of his assignment. Desire that had flared out of nowhere. Desire that now threatened to get out of hand.

She’s your target. The reminder helped, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

* * *

“So tell me why this year is so special,” Niall invited. They’d filled their plates at the buffet, then reseated themselves in the secluded corner booth he’d charmed the hostess into seating them in.

He watched as Savannah swallowed a bite of the excellent shrimp in lobster sauce he’d already sampled. His brain took a quick detour as he considered pressing his lips to the delicate hollow of her throat, clearly visible in that temptation of a dress. He dragged his attention back with an effort when she said, “My parents died three months ago.”

He blinked. He knew that fact—of course he knew. He knew just about everything there was to know about her. But he’d never have thought their deaths would be something she—

“They were booked on a round-the-world cruise,” she continued softly, her eyes filled with shadows. “To be followed by a series of cruises along ancient waterways—the Nile, the Amazon and the Yangtze Rivers, among others. It was the dream of a lifetime for them. It’s not as if they’d never travelled before, but not like this for many, many years...mostly because of me.”

“Because of you?” He knew why, but he wanted to encourage her to confide in him. To trust him.

She hesitated. “My parents used to travel a lot during Christmas and summer breaks from teaching, mostly in the US. And they continued doing that when I came along. But...” She glanced down at her plate, then back up at Niall. “The summer I turned four, we flew to Hawaii—Oahu, actually. I loved it, right up until I got separated from my parents in a Waikiki open-air tourist market. Masses of people. All strangers. All crowding around me. And when I started crying, everyone tried to help. But that only made things worse. People kept coming up behind me, touching me. I panicked and began hyperventilating. I passed out eventually, collapsing into a little ball on the ground. By the time my parents found me...”

“So that’s why you don’t like crowds.”

“Not crowds so much,” she explained, “although I prefer not to be in them. It’s more people coming up behind me. Touching me unexpectedly. Like today at the Great Wall.”

“I understand.” He didn’t have to fake the empathy.

“I had therapy, of course. And I don’t panic nearly as often as I used to. But for the rest of my childhood and adolescence, we never traveled anywhere that might bring on one of my crowd-induced panic attacks. Which pretty much ruled out most tourist destinations. It wasn’t until my parents no longer had to worry about me that they were free to travel again, but...”

She paused as if her thoughts were a million miles away, and Niall asked, “But...?”

“Then my mom got sick. Kidney failure. Which meant she was tied to a dialysis schedule that wouldn’t allow her to travel far from home, especially overseas. You can arrange for dialysis someplace other than your home hospital here in the US, but she was also on a waiting list for a transplant. I don’t know if you know how that works, but when you’re on the list they give you a beeper. You have to be at the ready the instant a kidney becomes available, because there’s a very limited time window. Otherwise it goes to someone else, the next blood-and-tissue match on the list.

“And my mom had a somewhat rare blood type, which meant the odds of a match weren’t all that good to begin with. She wasn’t about to risk missing out on a kidney transplant, so they never went anywhere they couldn’t return from at a moment’s notice.”

She sighed softly. “My mom finally got her transplant two years ago. But my parents had been planning for the day they’d finally be free to travel again long before that. They were going to take a spectacular trip to make up for all the trips they hadn’t been able to take over the years, first because of me, then because of my mom’s health. And they were going first class all the way. They’d planned what they would see and do at each port of call, in minute detail.

“They had to wait, somewhat impatiently, to make sure my mom’s body didn’t reject the donated organ, but the trip was all they talked about, especially toward the end, when it was finally going to be a reality. They’d both arranged sabbaticals so they didn’t have to worry about how long they’d be gone—they were professors at the University of Arizona, you see. My father in mathematics, my mother in ancient history,” she explained unnecessarily, although she didn’t know it.

“And...?” Niall prompted when she fell silent.

“And they were on the way to the airport to embark on their grand adventure, when a trucker fell asleep at the wheel. At least...that’s what the police theorized. His truck jackknifed on the I-10 freeway, then flipped over, pinning my parents’ car beneath it.”

Even though Niall already knew all of this, hearing the words from Savannah, hearing the grief in her voice, did something to him, and his brows drew together in a frown. He reached across the table and touched her hand briefly. “I’m so sorry.”

She drew a shaky breath before continuing. “It still hurts,” she said in a tight little voice. “But it’s not as bad as it was at first.”

“I lost my dad some years back,” Niall admitted before he could stop himself. “And yeah, it still hurts. It will always hurt. That old ‘time heals all wounds’ saying is a load of crap. But it does get easier. Trust me on this.”

She smiled mistily at him, and Niall had the sudden, eerie sensation of falling.

* * *

Five tables away—not close enough to hear the conversation, even though they strained their ears—a couple posing as husband and wife covertly watched the other couple. Both wondered what Savannah Whitman was saying to put that steely eyed expression on her companion’s face. And both wondered just who the hell he was, what he was doing with their target and...whether or not they’d need to take him out. Things were going to be tricky enough as it was. They didn’t need some stranger throwing a monkey wrench into the works.

“She was supposed to be on her own,” the woman muttered. “Isn’t that what Spencer told us?”

“Yes.” Just the one word, but it conveyed a wealth of meaning.

“How are we supposed to—”

Her pseudo-husband cut her off. “I’ll think of something. I always do.”

“Yes but—”

“Quiet!” He cast her a quelling glance. “I’m trying to read their lips.” He cursed under his breath. “But the angle is all wrong, damn it! Why did you allow the hostess to seat us in this out-of-the-way table? If we were closer, I might be able to hear what they’re saying or at least read their lips.”

“Why did I—It was you. You were the one who—”

He brought his hand up sharply, and she fell silent. “Let’s go the buffet,” he said, standing abruptly. “Maybe we can maneuver into getting close enough to hear something. At least find out who the hell he is.”

* * *

Niall shook his head and the eerie feeling went away, but he wondered what it meant. He’d never suffered from vertigo before, but then, deep down, he knew it wasn’t vertigo. He just didn’t want acknowledge the real cause. To distract himself he said, “So your parents were killed in an accident. And then...?”

“At first I was in shock. I mean...they weren’t that old. I just didn’t expect it, you know?”

He nodded.

“Not both of them at the same time. But as I was picking out clothes for them to be buried in, it came to me with such cruel irony that they never fulfilled their dream. They’d planned this trip for so long, and then—boom! They never got to take it. They never saw the Egyptian pyramids except in photographs. They never stood on the Acropolis and felt history all around them. They never gazed at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in awe and wonder. All the things they’d promised each other they’d do someday.”

Her voice was little more than a whisper at this point, and Niall sensed she was talking more to herself than to him. She swallowed hard, and he knew she was holding back tears.

“Someday never came for them. Death cheated them out of the someday they’d promised each other. I stood at their graves after the funeral, and I swore I wasn’t going to wait another day. I was going to do all the things I’d dreamed of doing, and I was going to do them now.”

Niall saw it all then, and the relief that rushed through him was out of proportion to what she’d said. But it wasn’t out of proportion to what it meant to him.

“I resigned the very next day. Everyone thought I was overreacting to my parents’ deaths, and would change my mind once I came to my senses. I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but they tried to convince me anyway. They wanted me to postpone my decision until I’d had time to think about it. No amount of thinking was going to make a difference, though. Does that make sense?”

Niall nodded again.

“I gave them a month’s notice, but I agreed to extend it to two because I still had to settle my parents’ estate, sell their house. Stuff like that. And I needed time to arrange some of the trips I wanted to take anyway, so...”

She paused for a moment, then continued. “But I... I couldn’t explain the real reason I’d resigned to the people at work. They didn’t want to listen, and I’m not very good at talking about personal issues with them, anyway, especially my section hea—”

She cut off the rest of what she’d started to say, and Niall filled in the blanks. Section head, by which he knew she meant her immediate supervisor at the internationally famous defense contractor—one of the top five in the US—where she’d worked up until a month ago.

Her sudden reticence in discussing her job made more sense to him than it might have to someone who wasn’t in his line of work. Employees of defense contractors were strongly urged never to talk about what they did with outsiders, for fear of security leaks. Savannah had been a missile guidance, navigation and control engineer. She’d held a top secret clearance granted by the Department of Defense and had designed weapons the US relied upon to stay ahead of its enemies militarily.

But he’d bet anything she’d resigned because she was fulfilling some kind of vow she’d made to herself and to her parents. Not because she was a potential traitor.

Between her confession and everything he’d learned by hacking into her computer and searching her hotel room last night, it all boiled down to one thing: his assignment was most likely a total bust. Whoever had gotten it into his head that Savannah planned to sell what she knew to the Chinese government and had dispatched him here was way off base.

If he didn’t need to worm his way into her confidence and compile evidence to arrest and convict her of espionage...if he didn’t need to worry about her betraying his country, either...that meant she wasn’t a security risk. Which also meant, even as a last resort, he wouldn’t have to kill her.

And considering his reaction to kissing her earlier, that revelation was a godsend.

Chapter 3

“Oops!” said a voice behind Savannah as someone bumped into her chair. “Sorry about—Well, hey there!”

She looked up and saw a face she recognized from their tour group, but she couldn’t immediately put a name to the face and searched in vain for a nametag.

“Savannah Whitman, right?” the vivacious blonde said. “I’m Mary Beth, remember? Mary Beth Thompson. And this is my husband, Herb.” She turned to the man who’d come up beside her, holding a full plate. “Herb, you remember Savannah, right? We were on the same plane from San Francisco.”

Mary Beth chattered away about the crowded conditions at the Great Wall. “All that pushing and shoving! So rude, too! Why, I could barely take a picture without someone walking right into the frame.” She moved on to discuss the factory they’d visited afterward. “Wasn’t that jade factory incredible? Did you buy anything? I could have spent a fortune. Good thing I had Herb with me,” Mary Beth said with a laugh, “or I’d have put a major dent in my credit card for sure! But I have to say, the food in the factory restaurant was just so-so, don’t you think? Not five-star like this restaurant.”

Savannah couldn’t get a word in edgewise. But apparently Mary Beth didn’t need an answer to any of her questions. She just kept rolling on, and Savannah was terribly afraid at any moment Mary Beth would suggest she and her husband join them for dinner. Savannah didn’t want to—not only was she already getting a headache listening to Mary Beth’s incessant chatter, she also wanted Niall all to herself. But she didn’t know how she’d say no if...

“Well, hello,” said another woman, stopping by their table, accompanied by a smiling man, both of whom looked familiar. “Weren’t you in our cable car going up to the Great Wall this morning?” she asked Savannah.

“Oh. Oh yes, I think I was. It’s...” Savannah surreptitiously looked for a nametag she didn’t find, then searched her memory. “It’s Tammy and...and Martin, right?” she said triumphantly. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your last name.”

“Williams,” the man threw in.

“That’s right. Sorry, I’m really bad with names.”

Niall had risen when Mary Beth and her husband had stopped at their table, and had stayed standing. But after one quick glance at Savannah’s face, he politely but firmly made it very clear the other couples were de trop.

Savannah smiled admiringly at Niall when they were alone again. “How did you do that?” she asked, leaning forward to make sure she couldn’t be overheard. “I mean, you weren’t rude, but you managed to get rid of them in no time at all.”

He shrugged, but a tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Just something I picked up at my mother’s knee.”

“I want to meet your mother.”

His smile deepened. “You’d like her. And what’s more to the point, she’d like you.”

A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through her, so unexpected, so real she was afraid to look down in case she’d see blood somewhere. She tried not to let her smile fade away, but she wasn’t completely successful. Niall watched her for a moment, then said in a quiet voice, “Just tell me.”

The words slipped out. “My parents would have loved you.”

He didn’t say anything, just took her hand in his and stroked his thumb back and forth in a move that was both comforting and somehow erotic.

“I miss them so much,” she whispered in a desperate undertone. “My mom—she’s the one who got me interested in ancient history. I was thinking of her when I was standing on the Great Wall. Remembering lying on my bed, poring over books on ancient China with her. And my dad—he’s the one who introduced me to the pure beauty of mathematics. But I didn’t want to be a mathematician, like him. I wanted to be an engineer because it was applied math. I wanted to make a difference. Wanted to help keep the world safe. That’s why I became a—”

She stopped short because she suddenly remembered her numerous security briefings. Don’t tell anyone what you do, she’d been warned. You can say who you work for, but nothing more than that. And never mention your security clearance.

But Niall’s eyes held such understanding, she added, “I know people mock ideals these days. And patriotism seems passé, but that’s how my parents raised me. When I graduated college, I was recruited by...” She mentioned the name of her former employer, knowing Niall would probably recognize the name and make the connection to the Department of Defense. “Microsoft and Google recruited me, too, and a half dozen other companies. But I wanted to do my part in keeping my country safe.”

His hold on her hand tightened. “I understand, more than you can possibly know.” His voice dropped a notch. “That’s how my parents raised me, too. There’s this quotation from Edward Everett Hale my dad carved in wood before I was born, and hung over the fireplace mantel in the family room at home. It’s still there. ‘I am only one, but I am one,’” he recited softly. “‘I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.’”

She gazed wonderingly at him. “Would you believe I’ve read that saying before? Not exactly those words, but close.”

“Yeah. I’ve seen variations on it, too. But it influenced me from the time I was old enough to understand what it meant. And I joined the Marine Corps when I turned eighteen. So did all my brothers and my baby sister when they were old enough. Not that my parents pushed us into it. It was just...” He seemed to search for the words. “A way of giving back, I guess. I know our country isn’t perfect. We’ve made mistakes. Grievous ones sometimes. But I wouldn’t trade the US for any other country in the world.”

Savannah smiled tremulously at Niall. “You do understand.”

“Yeah. I do.”

They gazed at each other in silence for endless moments, and Savannah had never felt closer to another human being than she did right then with Niall. But eventually she tore her gaze away and glanced down at her largely untouched plate. “Oh rats,” she said for something to say. “Our food’s cold.”

“It’s a buffet. You could get a new plate.”

“And waste good food?” She shook her head at him and picked up her fork. “I’m not going to perpetuate the stereotype of the ‘ugly American.’ Not if I can help it. It’s cold, but it’s still edible.”

They made small talk as they ate. And Savannah couldn’t believe this was really her. Where was the woman who was tongue-tied in the presence of the male of the species in a social situation? But everything seemed natural with Niall, as if she’d known him forever instead of meeting him for the first time this morning.

She frowned as she acknowledged the truth of that thought; she really knew nothing about Niall.

“Are you still a marine?” she blurted out.

He shook his head. “Four years was enough for me. My older brother made it his career, though, until—” He stopped abruptly, and Savannah wondered what he’d intended to say.

“Until...?”

“Until he was wounded and they gave him a medical discharge. Now he does something else.”

“If you didn’t make the Corps your career, what do you do?” She almost missed his slight hesitation.

“Security.”

She wondered about that infinitesimal pause, but didn’t ask him about it. Instead she said, “What made you decide to take this trip? I mean, it’s mostly couples. And it’s mostly people who are...” She cleared her throat. “Well, retired. I know why I’m here, but...”

He smiled at her. “I’m forty. Not retired yet, but not so young, either. And I have a bucket list, just like you. Everything seemed to dovetail with work, and so...”

He wasn’t being completely truthful. She didn’t know how she knew that; she just did. But she wasn’t ready to call him on it. Yet. Someday, she vowed, he’ll trust me enough to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

As soon as that thought occurred to her, another thought crept into her consciousness. What made her think there was going to be a someday with Niall?

* * *

They strolled leisurely through the hotel’s vast lobby afterward, in companionable silence for the most part. When they passed the shop where Savannah had purchased her dress, she stopped momentarily to look at the others in the window. “I almost bought that one,” she murmured, pointing to a red silk sheath with the most gorgeous gold embroidery in a very Chinese design.

“Red’s not your color.” Niall turned, and when his gaze traveled over her from head to toe, Savannah felt it as a caress.

“No?”

“No. It’s all wrong for you.”

She didn’t know what made her say it—she never flirted—but she teased, “I didn’t know you were a connoisseur of women’s clothing.”

A short huff of laughter answered her. “I’m not. But I’m a connoisseur of you.” His voice dropped. “And what you’re wearing is perfect...for you.”

She caught her breath at the blatant desire in his eyes, kindling an answering desire in her. And all at once she remembered this morning, and her determination that if Niall wanted to make love to her, she wasn’t going to say no. Except for that one time she’d fallen in love in her teens, she’d played it safe all her life where relationships were concerned. How many chances like this would come her way? How many opportunities would she have to live the fantasy?

You even planned for this, she reminded herself. There’s a box of condoms waiting upstairs. But she couldn’t make her lips form the words to invite him up to her room. She wanted to. But she couldn’t.

* * *

Niall saw Savannah safely back to her hotel room on the thirty-eighth floor. He leaned in and kissed her lightly, not trusting himself any further than that. If he kissed her the way he wanted to—the way she deserved—he wouldn’t have been able to walk away at all. And he needed to. The shy invitation in Savannah’s eyes was an indictment of him. Of his assignment. And of what he’d actually—for a brief period—considered doing. How do you make love to a woman you’d convinced yourself you could kill?

He could have done it yesterday, if absolutely necessary. He could have slept with a traitor without a qualm and gone after the evidence to convict her, or kill her, when she was still his target. But not now. Not when he knew his assignment was most likely pure BS. He’d done things for his country that kept him up at night, things he wouldn’t necessarily want his mother or sister to know about, but he’d never done anything of which he was ashamed...until now.

“Lock your door,” he whispered when he raised his head.

“Lock my door?” Bewilderment shone from her gray eyes.

“I want to hear that lock click behind you. Then I’ll know you’re safe...from me.”

She caught her breath. “What if I don’t want to be safe?”

The sound that issued from his throat was nothing more or less than a growl. “Damn it, Savannah! You don’t know the first thing about me.”

She stared up at him, an enigmatic expression on her face. “You’re wrong,” she said quietly. “I know you better than you think.” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “The fact that you have no intention of following me into my room despite what your body is saying tells me all I really need to know about you.” She reached up and touched two fingers to his cheek. “Good night, Niall. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

Then she was gone, closing the door in his face the way he’d told her to do. And the click of the lock was audible.

He walked next door and inserted his keycard in the slot. Savannah didn’t know it, but he’d arranged to have the room right next to hers. She was also unaware he’d broken into her room last night while she was at the lavish three-hour Peking duck banquet outside their hotel, which Niall had missed.

He’d searched everything Savannah had with her and had found nothing. No incriminating papers. No CDs, DVDs or thumb drives that might contain top secret files. He’d hacked into her laptop, too, and copied her data files for perusal back in his hotel room, which he’d done into the wee hours of this morning. He’d also installed worm software on her laptop. Every keystroke she made, every website she visited, every email she sent—Niall would know about it.

And he’d planted nearly invisible voice-activated cameras and listening devices, all of which weren’t necessary if she wasn’t a traitor or a security risk. He wouldn’t turn off the electronic monitoring system yet, just to be on the safe side. But they were checking out of this hotel day after tomorrow. When she went down to breakfast that morning, he would retrieve the equipment he’d installed last night, then install it at their next hotel. Assuming he didn’t get called back to the US in the meantime.

Her laptop was a little more problematic. The worm he’d introduced into her operating system wasn’t as simple to remove as the cameras or audio devices. It could be done, but it would take hours. He’d have to wait for another time, and there wasn’t a rush to uninstall it. And if he was recalled, well...the worm would stay where it was.

That didn’t mean he had to review the data logs, though. He’d have to see what his boss had to say. And he wouldn’t watch the voice-activated video, either. Listen, yes. Just to make sure she didn’t meet with someone she shouldn’t in her hotel room. And if he heard something suspicious, the video would still be there. But otherwise Savannah’s privacy would be inviolate. That was the least he could do, now that he knew she was probably innocent.

But not watching Savannah on video didn’t mean he’d turned off his imagination where she was concerned. He lay on the top of the covers, his arms beneath his head, and closed his eyes.

He could see her clearly in his mind as she’d first appeared when she opened her hotel door. She’d brushed her mousy brown hair until it shone, then piled it on top of her head. Even with that and her two-inch heels, he’d still towered over her. But then, at six-two-plus, that wasn’t unusual for him. She’d done something different to her eyes, too—mascara on her lashes and that shadowy stuff women used to make their eyes appear larger. But it was her mouth that had nearly poleaxed him. He wanted that mouth on him.

“Damn it!” He was fully aroused now, and he had no one to blame but himself. “Stop thinking of her,” he ordered, but it was easier said than done.

He unbuckled his ankle holster, which contained his totally-illegal-in-China-and-he’d-serve-hard-time-if-he-got-caught-with-it Beretta M9, and laid it on the nightstand. He’d carried a Beretta since his days in the Marine Corps, and he loved it. It fit his hand as if it had been made for him, and he always felt naked without it.

Then he turned up the volume on the electronic monitoring system—although nothing in Savannah’s hotel room had set off the voice activation so far—before stripping to the buff and padding into the bathroom. He’d already taken one shower this evening, before he’d knocked on Savannah’s door at dinnertime, but he needed another one now.

Preferably cold.

Two shivering minutes later his arousal was tamed...barely. He fished his toothbrush out of his travel kit, squeezed on toothpaste and was just about to slide it under the tap when he remembered. He cursed himself softly for almost making what could have been an error his body would pay for later. He cracked open a fresh bottle of water, shaking his head at his near stupidity and the necessity.

Not that this was new to him. It wasn’t. He’d been stationed places where bottled water was necessary for everything during his years in the Corps. He’d traveled on assignment to the jungles of Africa and South America, where the sanitary conditions were much worse. But it still bothered him.

He turned out the bathroom light, then crawled naked under the covers...where his thoughts stubbornly returned to Savannah. Wondering what she was doing at this very moment. Was she already in bed on the other side of the wall? Did she wear nightclothes—a gown, a T-shirt, PJs? Or did she sleep in the nude as he did?

Crap! Stop thinking of that, you pervert.

Then he remembered he hadn’t done what he’d intended to do the minute he returned to the privacy of his room. He rose and grabbed his secure laptop from the safe, brought it back to bed with him, then turned it on. It took a few minutes to boot up—the security precautions installed meant jumping through a few extra electronic hoops. Then, of course, he had to log onto the Virtual Private Network. And since he had to access it through a satellite feed, it took even longer. But eventually he was connected securely.

He’d already composed the email he would send while he was waiting for his laptop to be ready, so now his fingers flew over the keys as he typed. Finished, he scanned what he’d written, then hit Send and left the computer on.

The twelve-hour time difference between Beijing and Washington, DC, at this time of year meant he could expect a fairly prompt response. It was—he glanced at the clock on the nightstand—10:06 p.m. So it was just after ten in the morning in DC, which meant he might hear back in a few minutes.

He pushed the laptop to one side and lay back against the pillows, waiting. Hoping to receive the “stand down” command he’d requested, because he didn’t want to waste another day on this meaningless assignment.

There was another reason he wanted to leave China sooner rather than later, and it had nothing to do with wasting his time. He wanted out of here because being around Savannah was dangerous to his peace of mind and to his closely guarded heart. She’d already elicited things from him he never talked about. Like how his dad’s death had affected him. Like his brother’s medical discharge from the Corps.

He was just dozing off despite telling himself to stay awake—too little sleep last night, his body was telling him in no uncertain terms—when he heard an odd thump from the room next door, followed by Savannah’s voice, which he could hear clearly on the monitor, saying, “Who is it?”

Chapter 4

“Housekeeping.”

Savannah frowned. She hadn’t called housekeeping for anything, and she remembered the warning given to women traveling alone—never open your hotel door unless you know who’s on the other side. And even then, be on your guard. She peered through the peephole but couldn’t see anyone, and that alone roused her suspicions.

She was just about to tell whoever was on the other side of her door that she was calling hotel security when she heard the oddest noise, followed by what sounded like the thud of running footsteps on the carpeted hallway floor. Then nothing.

She raced to the phone and was poised to dial the operator when there was a light tap on her door, followed by a deep voice she recognized. “Savannah? It’s Niall. Are you okay?”

She dropped the phone back into its cradle and made a mad dash for the door. She threw it open without even checking the peephole, something for which she’d berate herself later, but at the moment seemed utterly unnecessary.

A barefooted, shirtless Niall stood in her doorway, as if he’d somehow divined she was in trouble and had only bothered to pull on his jeans before coming to her rescue. “Are you okay?” he repeated, running his gaze over her from top to bottom as if he needed to reassure himself.

“I’m fine.” Then her curiosity got the better of her. “How did you know I needed help?”

He hesitated. “My room’s right next door. I heard something and came to investigate. I didn’t want to intrude, but better safe than sorry, my mother always says.”

A tiny pang went through her at the familiar phrase. “My mom used to say that, too.” Only then did she realize blood was trickling from Niall’s forearm. “Oh my God, you’re hurt!” She dragged him by his uninjured arm into her room and closed the door behind him. Then turned him so she could examine the wounded area. “What happened?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, just darted into the bathroom for a clean, dry washcloth and her toiletries case, which also contained her little emergency kit.

“Sit,” she ordered, when she came back. Niall glanced at the foot of the bed, then pulled the desk chair out and swiveled it around before taking a seat. Savannah pressed the washcloth against what was little more than a six-inch scratch, which was a good thing. It wouldn’t need stitches, just disinfecting and a gauze bandage. “What happened?” she asked again as she efficiently applied first aid.

“There were a couple of masked—I guess you could call them intruders—outside your door when I stepped into the hallway. Not sure exactly what they were after, but the masks were a dead giveaway they weren’t there for a legitimate reason. They took off like bats out of hell as soon as they saw me, but I gave chase. I had my hand around the arm of one of them when the other produced a knife and lunged for me.” He didn’t even wince when she applied the alcohol wipe against the cut.

“I turned to avoid the thrust,” he continued, “and the blade grazed my forearm. But I had to let go of the other intruder, and that was all she wrote. They vanished through the fire door and did something to it so it wouldn’t open from this side. Which reminds me,” he said as an aside, “I need to call hotel security, have them clear the blockage just in case there’s a real fire and people need to escape that way.”

“Good idea,” Savannah said, but her mind wasn’t really on what Niall was saying about the fire door. She was laser focused on patching him up. “There,” she said with satisfaction as she patted the last piece of adhesive tape into place. “Almost good as new.” She smiled down at Niall, but her smile soon faded as her gaze slid farther down and she noticed for the first time a devastating scar near his heart, a bullet wound if she hadn’t missed her guess, and the surgical scar bisecting his chest. “Oh, my God,” she breathed. “What...?”

She automatically went to touch it, but he caught her hand in an iron grip and prevented her. “Sorry.” His voice was brusque. “I know it’s offensive, but I was in a hurry and didn’t take time to put on a shirt. I’ll go back to my—”

He started to rise, but she pushed him back down. “Not until you tell me how it happened,” she insisted, quietly but firmly. “I’m not offended. And I’m not disgusted. What I am is appalled you think I would be.”

When he didn’t say anything, she nodded to herself as understanding dawned. “Someone told you it was offensive. A woman. A woman you cared about. A woman you...loved?”

Not by the flicker of an eyelid did he betray she’d guessed correctly, but she knew she was right. “Oh, Niall,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

This time she didn’t try to stop him when he rose. “Don’t pity me, for God’s sake,” he rasped. “That’s the last thing I want from you.”

“Not pity. Empathy. Because human beings can be so cruel to one another. Intentionally cruel. And it’s those intentional cruelties by those we love that inflict the most damage because we have no defenses against them.” It had been twenty years, but she still remembered when someone had done that to her, and she breathed raggedly. “Please tell me what happened.”

At first she thought he wasn’t going to. But then he admitted in a low voice, “I took a bullet meant for another man. That’s all.”

“That’s all? That’s all?” Without even thinking about it, Savannah reverently pressed her lips against the scar, wishing with all her heart she could “kiss it and make it better” the way her mother used to do when Savannah scraped her knee or cut her finger. Wishing she could draw the poison from Niall’s soul that way, poison planted by the woman he’d once loved, the one who’d told him the scar on his otherwise beautiful body was disgusting.

Then one muscled arm closed around her, dragging her against a body that had no give at all, and his free hand tilted her chin up. His mouth descended on hers, completely obliterating any memory she’d had of any other man’s kiss. The kiss went on and on, until surrender was the only possibility. Until every nerve ending in her body was inflamed. When he finally raised his head, she stared up at him, mutely pleading for more.

His face hardened. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me.”

“But I do.” Savannah had never—never—been this upfront with a man about what she wanted, what she needed. Which was quite possibly why her few sexual relationships could be summed up in one word: Meh. But she had no reservations about telling Niall. And she was sure right down to her bare toes that sex with Niall would be anything but meh.

“Savannah...”

The rejection in the way he said her name stung, but not as badly as it could have if it wasn’t patently obvious by the impressive bulge in his jeans that he wanted her, too. And despite the need that hummed through her body, she understood.

“‘Not tonight, dear, I have a headache,’” she murmured in a teasing fashion, and was rewarded by his masculine chuckle.

“No headache, just a hard-on I’d give anything to bury deep inside you.” She gasped at his forthright language, although she wasn’t offended. “But there are reasons I can’t share with you why that would be a very bad idea.”

“Why can’t you share them?”

He laughed again, defusing the sexual tension. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to know. And besides, there’s another, even more important reason why not.”

“And that is?”

“Because my parents raised me to be a gentleman. And a gentleman doesn’t take advantage of a lady when she’s vulnerable.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And you, Dr. Whitman, are definitely vulnerable. Not to mention one hell of a lady.”

It wasn’t until Niall had returned to his own room and Savannah was snuggling under the covers alone that she suddenly wondered how he knew she held a doctorate. She cast her mind back over their conversations, but she couldn’t remember ever having mentioned it to him. And her name badge only said “Savannah Whitman,” not “Dr. Savannah Whitman,” or “Savannah Whitman, PhD.”

That’s odd, she thought, meaning to ask Niall about it the next day. Then her brain shut down as she slid into sleep, and the question completely slipped her mind.

* * *

Niall picked up the phone the minute he was back in his hotel room. He called the operator, who transferred him to hotel security. He didn’t mention Savannah’s name or that masked intruders had tried to gain entrance to her room, because he was fairly sure this was no random attack. He merely reported that he’d seen the perpetrators and tried to give chase, but they’d escaped into the emergency stairwell on his floor and had apparently jammed the fire door from the inside. Could security look into it?

Then he checked his email. Sure enough, his inbox contained the recall he’d asked for, a recall he no longer wanted.

He quickly considered his options. One, he could meekly acquiesce to his orders, pack his bags and head back to DC. He dismissed that idea immediately.

Two, he could tell Savannah his suspicion that someone was trying to kidnap her. He didn’t know who, but he was pretty sure he knew why—the highly classified data in her brain. And though the obvious suspect was the government of the People’s Republic of China, he didn’t think so. Someone had convinced the Department of Homeland Security and the Department of Defense that Savannah was a security risk. Why? If a foreign government was behind the kidnapping attempt, getting Niall dispatched here was contrary to their interests.

Which meant someone was deliberately trying to make it appear as if the PRC was involved, so that when Savannah disappeared the US government would either think she’d defected or the Chinese were behind her disappearance. Suspicion would be diverted from the true culprit either way.

But unless he confessed everything, he doubted he’d be able to convince Savannah she was in ongoing danger. And if he couldn’t convince her, no way would she go back to the States with her bucket list unfulfilled, not with the motivation driving her.

Three, he could ask to have his recall rescinded and instead be assigned to guard Savannah while she was in China. Bodyguard would be a divergence from his usual role, but not completely outside the realm of things he’d done in his career.

Could he keep her safe for the next two weeks? There were no guarantees in this world, but he had faith in himself. Hell yes, he could keep her safe. Would keep her safe, or die trying.

But he’d have to word his request carefully if he went with option number three.

He clicked Reply and started typing. He read back through what he’d written six minutes later, modifying a word here, a phrase there. Satisfied at last he was conveying the message that would get him the result he wanted, he clicked Send.

He lay back against the pillows, one arm beneath his head. He had no qualms about what he’d done. No second thoughts about telling his boss Savannah was in danger...and potentially an unwitting security risk. He hadn’t come right out and said it, but he’d implied that if the PRC was trying to kidnap her in a way that wouldn’t cause an international incident, then his original assignment still applied—he had to prevent Savannah from revealing the top secret military defense information she possessed to the enemy, even if she didn’t intend to do it. And the only way to do that was to guard her 24/7.

And how are you going to do that, hotshot? How are you going to guard her 24/7?

The only answer that came to him was the one he was most afraid of—becoming Savannah’s lover for the remainder of this trip. Afraid, because he wanted this deep down in the secret recesses of his soul. Not just to keep her safe, but because he wanted her. Plain and simple.

But he didn’t just want her in his bed. He didn’t just want to sate himself with her body, although that urge was getting stronger by the minute. He wanted the woman who’d kissed the scar on his chest as if it were a sacred badge of honor. He wanted the woman who’d cried for his pain.

And that scared the hell out of him.

* * *

Savannah woke early and was dressed and downstairs before the hotel restaurant opened for breakfast at six. She was hoping she’d run into Niall and invite him to join her. But though her eyes searched everywhere, she didn’t see him.

Her attention was caught by the waving arm of Mary Beth Thompson, who was sitting with her husband, Herb. She didn’t want to eat breakfast with them, but she didn’t think she had a choice. Then she saw Tammy and Martin Williams at a table near the front door. She waved back at Mary Beth and shook her head, pointing toward the Williamses as if to indicate she had a previous assignation with them. Then she carried her tray over to their table.

“Mind if I join you?”

Tammy smiled. “Please do.”

Savannah sat with a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just couldn’t bear Mary Beth’s brand of chattiness at breakfast.”

Tammy laughed and signaled to the waiter. “Coffee?” she asked Savannah.

“Yes, please.” She smiled at the waiter. “No cream.”

Tammy reached into her purse. “Do you need some no-sugar sweetener? I have some here.”

“Oh no. I brought my own. I did my research before I came on this trip. ‘Don’t drink the water. Don’t even brush your teeth with it,’” she intoned, checking items off her fingers as if ticking them off a list. “‘Bring your own no-sugar sweetener, because very few places will have it. Lock everything you don’t want stolen in the safe in your hotel room.’” She made a face. “That last thing applies everywhere, unfortunately, not just here in China. I had my iPhone charger stolen out of my hotel room in Washington, DC, one time.”

“What were you doing in DC?” Martin asked, buttering a roll.

Mindful of her security warnings, Savannah merely said, “Oh, I was there on a business trip.” She didn’t mention that, except for a cab ride around the city to see a few of the monuments from a distance, all she’d really seen was the view from her hotel—she wasn’t about to go into her fear of crowds with mere acquaintances. Which hammered home the difference between them and Niall. She hadn’t hesitated to confide in Niall her deepest secrets, because...well...because she felt as if she’d always known him. As if she could trust him.

And one other thing. She was falling for him. Hard.

Was she going to get her heart broken? Probably. But she didn’t care. She wasn’t foolish enough to think he was Mr. Right. But if she played her cards well, he could be Mr. Right Now.

She looked up from her plate suddenly, and there he was, standing in the entrance to the restaurant. So tall. So ridiculously fit. So reassuringly male. And all at once she remembered how he’d kissed her last night, then left her because he was a gentleman.

Their eyes met across the short distance, and she beamed at him. Her gaze slid to the empty chair next to hers, a blatant invitation. One he seemed to have no hesitation accepting.

“Mind if I join you?”

Savannah just smiled her welcome, but Tammy said, “The more, the merrier. Grab a plate of food. Want me to order coffee for you?”

“Sure. Black.” He glanced down at Savannah’s now-empty plate. “Come keep me company,” he invited. “You can tell me what was good.”

He didn’t really need her recommendations, but he wanted her company. That was all Savannah could think of as she followed him to the buffet. She took an empty plate and added some fruit, watching while Niall piled his plate high with protein, no carbs and no fruit. “Is that how you stay in such great shape?” she asked. “Mega protein?”

He smiled lazily down at her. “I eat things other than meat. But not where you can’t trust the water that comes out of the tap.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the cut fruit on her plate.

“You think they wash the fruit in bottled water?”

“Oh,” she repeated blankly. “I never thought of that.” She mentally reviewed what she’d already eaten, and felt slightly queasy. Her expression must have given her away, because he said, “It’s probably not an issue, so don’t start second-guessing yourself. Just keep it in mind going forward.”

* * *

Niall and Savannah left the restaurant together. “Don’t forget the tour bus leaves at eight,” Tammy called after them. “And the tour guide said they wouldn’t wait for us if we weren’t on the bus. You don’t want to miss the Forbidden City.”

“We’ll be there,” she assured her new acquaintance. “No way would I miss that.”

Niall steered her toward the front door. “Let’s go look at the fountain,” he told her. “There’s something I want to discuss with you in private.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s not meant to be,” he began, then amended, “Well...maybe it is. It’s about last night.”

“You mean the attempted break-in?”

“I don’t think it was a break-in, Savannah,” he said, his voice very deep. Very serious. And obviously very concerned. “I think you were targeted. And I don’t think they planned to rob you.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I talked with hotel security last night and this morning—that’s where I was before breakfast. This hotel has extensive security cameras at all the entrances, and they reviewed the tapes. No one wearing the clothing I saw entered or left the hotel last night, with or without masks. Which means they didn’t leave the hotel. Which means they either work here...or they’re guests.” He paused, then added softly, “And if they’re guests, my money says they’re on the tour.”

Chapter 5

Savannah stared up at Niall, an arrested expression on her face. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Maybe they work here. Or maybe they’re a sophisticated gang of thieves who’re masquerading as guests, maybe even on the tour. But how do you get from that to thinking they weren’t just planning to rob me?”

Niall chose his words carefully. “What did they say when they knocked at your door?”

She shook her head, her brow furrowed, as if she wasn’t seeing his point. “All they said was—” Then she got it. “Housekeeping,” she whispered. “But no Chinese accent.”

He nodded. “I don’t see them speaking English like an American if they were there to rob you. It’s possible, of course, but not very likely. Which means you were probably targeted for some other reason. And the only reason that comes to mind is...the job you used to have.”

“How do you know what my job used to be?” Her face had lost some of its color. “I never told you.”

“I can put two and two together, same as you. You told me you’re an engineer. You told me who your employer was, and you told me they tried to convince you not to quit.” He smiled faintly. “Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you were a rocket scientist. And, therefore, vitally important to the defense industry in some way. Which makes me think...”

“I’m not that important. Not enough for someone to, to—”

“Kidnap you?”

She swallowed hard. “It’s like something out of a spy novel. Things like this don’t happen in real life.”

“Maybe not. But give me another reason why someone would target you.” She couldn’t and he knew it, and his heart went out to her. “I work in security,” he reminded her, although he wasn’t about to tell her what kind of security. “It’s my job to be suspicious. To question everything.” He waited for that to sink in, then asked, “I don’t suppose you’ll agree to cancel the rest of this tour and go home.”

She blinked at him as if she couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. “Go home?” she asked, clearly stunned. “I’ve wanted to take this trip practically my whole life. I finally—finally—get up the courage to do it after my parents—” She stopped abruptly, and the stricken expression on her face told him she couldn’t finish that sentence without breaking down. But she didn’t have to say it for him to know what was in her mind. “And you want me to go home?”

Her voice had risen in intensity, but then she glanced around to make sure she hadn’t drawn attention with her outburst. She lowered her voice when she continued. “No way,” she said fiercely, but with a tearful edge that made his throat ache. “I saw the Great Wall yesterday, but that’s not nearly enough. I’m going to see the Forbidden City, Niall. And the Xi’an terracotta warriors, too. I am. I’m going to cruise the Yangtze River, visit the Three Gorges Dam and the Goddess Stream. I’m not giving that up. I’m not. I’m not!”

He cradled her face in his hands. “Okay,” he soothed. “Okay.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. “I understand, Savannah. I do. You’re not just doing this for you, but for your parents, too. I understand.”

He felt the shudder that traveled through her entire body when he mentioned her parents. Well, he’d known what her answer would be, hadn’t he? Which meant his options had just dwindled down to one. Protect Savannah for the next two weeks. Keep her safe so she could visit all the sights she’d planned to see, for herself and for her parents.

And to do that—to be with her 24/7—he just might have to accept the invitation she’d extended last night and become her lover. A sacrifice in one way, because any more time in her company would push him right over the edge. He knew that. And when they returned to the States, when he had to let her go—how could she ever forgive him once she discovered why he was there in the first place?—it would be like taking a bullet to his heart again.

But in another way, it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. Because part of him acknowledged he had to have her, just once. He had to know what it was like to make love to her. To feel her body arch beneath his and make her cry his name. To see the smile of a woman who’d been well and truly loved on her face when she looked at him.

He didn’t know how he’d managed to go from contemplating killing her to needing her like he needed his next breath in less than twenty-four hours, but he had. And he knew his life would never be the same again.

* * *

Damn, damn, damn! the man told himself as he closed the email and logged off his computer. The fourteen-hour time difference between Alamogordo, New Mexico, and Beijing meant he’d only learned of last night’s failure to kidnap Savannah Whitman early this morning, and his encrypted, coded reply with further instructions for his agents hadn’t been read until they’d woken this morning in Beijing. Phone calls back and forth wouldn’t be any better time-wise, and he would run the risk that the National Security Agency might be listening. His emails could be intercepted, too, but the encryption should make it nearly impossible for the NSA to crack them, and besides he was using coded instructions.

No, encrypted emails were far more secure, and his frustration had nothing to do with the method of communication. Just with the execution...or lack of it.

He’d tried for years to lure the quietly brilliant Dr. Savannah Whitman to work for his company to no avail. But now he had no choice. He’d lost too many competitive proposals to the company that had employed Dr. Whitman, because the damned DoD trusted her and her work. Which meant his company had been teetering on the brink already. And the breakthrough missile design she’d just come up with this summer? The one that had made the missile his company had been supplying to the DoD for years obsolete?

He’d cursed her, but he’d also known he had to gain possession of her to stave off bankruptcy. And he could no longer afford to wait the two years demanded by the non-compete agreement she’d signed, either. Not that that would prohibit her from working for his company those two years; it would just forbid her from working on something directly related to a previous project...which was exactly what he wanted her to do. And he knew she was just too ethical to try to skirt the strict interpretation of that non-comp.

So he’d had an epiphany when he’d learned she was taking a year off after the deaths of her parents and traveling the world, beginning with China. This was his perfect opportunity to kidnap her...and throw suspicion on the Chinese government.

His secret glee had known no bounds when he’d cast aspersions on her character with the US government—payback for the many times she’d turned down his job offers—and he’d pretended to be greatly reluctant about revealing the “true” reason behind her resignation from her former employer. It had been so easy to manipulate suspicion, because certain high-ranking individuals within Homeland Security and the DoD were paranoid about the government of the People’s Republic of China. A private word here, a calculated disclosure there and he’d succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

But he still had to kidnap her and make it appear to be the work of the PRC. Everything depended on it. Which meant this man who’d suddenly turned up on the tour and befriended Dr. Whitman, this man who’d unwittingly interfered with the brilliant plan, had to be eliminated. One way or another.

* * *

Savannah stared in wonder at the vast expanse in front of her that was Tiananmen Square, across the street from the Forbidden City. So vast, it literally dwarfed the tens of thousands of people assembled there. The tour guide was droning on and on about the history of Tiananmen Square in her electronic earpiece, but she turned off her little receiver because she didn’t need him to tell her. She knew.

She could see the row of tanks in her mind’s eye, see the lone man confronting them. You could debate the rights and wrongs of what happened that day in 1989 and everything that led up to it, but the bravery of the man confronting the tanks was beyond question.

She turned to Niall, standing quietly at her side, and blinked away tears. “He believed,” she whispered.

Niall seemed to be able to read her mind, because he said, “Yeah. He had the courage of his convictions. He didn’t die that day, you know—he was pulled to safety. But no one knows what ultimately happened to him. There are conflicting reports. Some say he was later arrested and executed, some say he escaped and went into hiding.”

“I believe in fighting for democracy, too,” she blurted out. “With all my heart. I have friends who ask me how I can do what I do for a living and still sleep at night. And I tell them they don’t understand. The work I do—the work I did,” she corrected, “it’s vital to national security.”

She drew a quick breath. “Guided missiles are so much better than anything we used to have. It’s my job to make sure our missiles are as accurate as possible, so they hit the military targets they’re aimed at, and civilian casualties are minimized.”

He didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. “Eloquently put,” he murmured when he raised his head. There was an expression in his eyes she couldn’t interpret. It almost looked like remorse. But what about her words would make Niall feel remorseful?

* * *

More proof—if he needed it—that Savannah wasn’t a traitor, Niall realized. But someone had deliberately set out to convince the US government she was. Why?

Her words also made him extremely glad he worked for a government that didn’t automatically assume guilt and act accordingly. Yes, he’d been dispatched to prevent Savannah from betraying the US by whatever means necessary. But his first assignment had been compiling proof of her guilt that would stand up in a court of law. Killing her would have been a last resort, only if he couldn’t stop her any other way.

He didn’t want to dwell on what might have been, because it wasn’t going to happen. Not now. But what she’d just revealed only added to his determination to find out who had made Savannah his target, and why. And to bring that person to justice.

* * *

The couple posing as husband and wife watched from a hundred yards away as Savannah and Niall walked hand in hand through the Forbidden City. Savannah, they were quick to notice, was completely oblivious to the danger they posed. Niall, not so much. His gaze was constantly moving, moving. Checking out the crowd, almost as if he were cataloguing people for future reference. They smiled and waved when his eyes met theirs, then they turned away to enter one of the small courtyards to deflect suspicion that they had Savannah and Niall under observation.

“Spencer was right,” the man said. “He’s a complication we don’t need.”

The woman froze, then glanced left and right to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “You’re going to kill him?” she whispered, obviously appalled. As if to say she’d signed up for kidnapping, but not for murder.

“I’d rather not if I don’t have to. Don’t want to bring official scrutiny on the tour if I can help it. But if I can arrange a little accident...” He shrugged. “A broken leg, maybe. Something to put him in the hospital or at least incapacitate him. We’ll see.”

* * *

Hours later, Savannah was exhausted. She’d walked for miles, it seemed, had ascended and descended countless broad stairways in her determination not to miss anything, had poked her nose into numerous courtyards, had peered into glass-walled rooms depicting homey little scenes of family life in the royal palace. She’d taken hundreds of photos with her camera that would be a pictorial diary she’d look back on years hence.

And she’d reveled in Niall’s company. She’d been surprised at how knowledgeable he was about Chinese history, both ancient and modern, and had thoroughly enjoyed every moment they’d spent discussing the pluses and minuses of life in China’s glorious past.

“Not so great for women, of course,” she stated after long discussions about Chinese contributions to art and science, the Silk Road and commerce, gunpowder, the invention of paper and life in general under the Chinese emperors.

“Yeah, but not really all that different from what life was like for women in England or Europe at that time, either,” he countered.

“True.” She stopped and drew a deep breath, conscious that her leg muscles were about to revolt.

“Tired?”

“A little,” she admitted, then amended, “Okay, a lot. But very happy I came here. It’s just so much to cram into a small span of time. I could spend days here and not see everything.”

One corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. “Yeah, but you’ve seen the highlights, same as at the Great Wall. And you can always say you’ve been here.” He gestured to her camera. “Want me to take your picture for you?”

“Ye...yes...”

But he’d apparently noticed her slight hesitation. “You don’t want me to take your picture?”

“That’s not it.” Just spit it out, she told herself firmly. “Could I take one of the two of us?” She raised her camera. “I’ve gotten pretty good at taking selfies. Would you mind?” Then she held her breath.

“The pictures you already took of me aren’t enough?”

She stared at him. “You knew? You didn’t say anything.”

He laughed. “You’d make a lousy spy—you weren’t all that surreptitious.”

“Oh.” Nonplussed, she asked, “You don’t mind?”

“Mind that you want memories of the time we’ve spent together?” His lips quirked into a smile. “What do you think?”

“I wasn’t... It’s just that... Well, yes,” she confessed. “But I’d like at least one photo of the two of us together. Please?”

He slid an arm around her shoulders. “My pleasure.”

Savannah held her camera out away from the two of them and snapped a couple of shots, looking at the screen after each one to make sure she hadn’t cut off the top of their heads or anything stupid like that. “One more,” she pleaded.

Niall flashed her a smile. “Why sure, darlin’.”

His smile went right through her, and she felt it all the way to her toes. She sighed softly, then smiled at the camera and pressed the button. “Thanks.”

“Now one for me...to go with my collection.”

Her smile faded. “Collection?” she faltered, unsure what he meant by that but not liking the sound of it. Was Niall referring to a collection of women he’d been—?

“Pictures of you,” he added, as if he’d suddenly realized how she’d interpreted his statement. He whipped his iPhone out of his pocket to show her, scrolling through what appeared to be a dozen or more photos of her taken today. Candid shots, not posed, but each one clearly conveying her excitement at being there.

“When did you... How did you take these without my knowledge?”

“Because unlike you, I am good at taking pictures surreptitiously.” He drew her back against him, held the iPhone out and click! Then click again.

He held the phone for her to see without even looking at them himself. “Okay?”

The first picture was typical tourist fodder—they were both smiling at the camera, and in the background you could clearly see the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The second picture, the one she hadn’t been expecting and therefore wasn’t posing for, was troubling. Because she’d turned in that split second between the first and the second clicks, and was staring up at Niall with an expression that could easily be called...yearning.

She wanted to insist he delete that photo because it was too revealing, but she didn’t want to call attention to it, either. So she just nodded and handed him back the phone, then watched in silence for his reaction.

“Not bad,” he said judiciously, reviewing the first one. When he swiped a finger over the screen to view the second one, however, he said nothing at all. But his eyebrows twitched into a frown before he shut the phone down and pocketed it.

“Come on,” he said, grasping her hand and drawing her willy-nilly after him toward the northern end of the Forbidden City. “There’s still time to visit the Imperial Garden. I’ve heard the rockeries there are not to be missed.”

* * *

Savannah had signed up for one of the few optional side tours, the Peking opera, so Niall had, too. But unlike Savannah, whose gaze was fixed on the stage practically the entire night, Niall spent most of the evening watching her. Wondering if he wasn’t making a bad mistake.

The photo from this morning bothered him. A lot. It was one thing to become Savannah’s lover—which he had every intention of doing. It was another thing entirely to make her fall in love with him—which he had no intention of doing.

He had a healthy libido and an active sex life. He’d long since gotten over Francine, the one and only woman he’d ever asked to marry him, back when he’d been young and stupid enough to fall for a woman so shallow her only reaction to his being shot was disappointment that his body was no longer perfect. Back when he’d still been in the Marine Corps. He wasn’t carrying a torch for his “one true love” or anything like that—he’d said goodbye and good riddance in the same breath. And he wasn’t nursing a wounded heart, no matter what Savannah might have thought last night. He’d had nineteen years and a plethora of women to make sure of it.

He’d broken no hearts over the years because he’d never settled into a long-term relationship, which was just fine and dandy with him. He’d cared a couple of times more than the rest, but he’d never let himself fall in love again for one reason and one reason only: the job that meant more to him than anything.

Problem was, the woman sitting next to him didn’t know it. Didn’t know him. Didn’t know she’d been his target as recently as yesterday.

He’d never gotten involved before with a woman who didn’t know the score. Who didn’t know the rules of the game going in. Who didn’t know it was a game. Which meant he’d never spent time with anyone as naïve as Savannah.

He considered this carefully and concluded, yeah, that word applied to her. But there were other words that came to mind. Words he shied away from, because they only added to the guilt he was carrying over how he’d met her in the first place.

And if he wasn’t careful, he could hurt her. Badly.

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