A Dangerous Engagement
Silhouette Intimate Moments
October 2003
ISBN: 0-373-27322-3

Book 2 in Sisters-in-Arms

Excerpt | Order

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US Army Delta Force Captain Tom Wild has never played by the rules and he's not about to start now. Why should he when adhering to the rules accomplished nothing for a close friend, except that friend's death? Tom has spent precious weeks setting up his own cover, even going so far as to arrange a deal to reduce a small-time terrorist's prison term for an introduction into the shady underworld of Panamanian terrorist Luis Ortiz. So far, Luis and his thugs have been minor players on the Panamanian criminal scene. But before Tom's friend was murdered, his friend learned that Luis gained a wealthy but unknown sponsor-and was promptly tasked with a deadly but equally unknown mission. Tom has no idea when the cowardly act is supposed to go down and he'll do whatever it takes to obtain the information, even if it means courting Luis' trusted cousin Anna Shale straight into bed if need be. As far as Tom is concerned, he has no choice. The sultry beauty is the budding terrorist's only weakness. That Anna is also a former US Navy lieutenant suspected of passing military secrets to her cousin will make taking the both of them down-as well as Tom's personal revenge for his buddy's death-all the sweeter...

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Chapter 1

Luis was late.

Tom Wild fought the urge to pace the thick Spanish tiles of the foyer with all the patience of a Cobra aerial gunship forced into a holding pattern five miles inside enemy radar range. It had taken his Delta Force team three precious weeks to set up this cover, not to mention calling in one hell of a marker. And now, when he should have been a handshake away from the most important assignment of his career, he'd been abandoned, barely inside the front door of this mausoleum, cooling his heels for damned near half an hour. If Luis Ortiz didn't show up in the next sixty seconds, he was out of here.

Hell, he should probably leave now. Luis was supposed to be ripe for the picking. Desperate, in fact. Half an hour late didn't look desperate to him.

Maybe their information was wrong.

The stream of curses that had been simmering in his blood for the past thirty minutes finally vented as the sixty second deadline came and went-with no Luis. The devil with it. Tom spun around and headed across the blood-red tiles that led to the front door. He'd wait the allotted time and then contact his local handler. It was time for them to regroup. But the moment he reached out for the wrought iron handle, he caught the unmistakable scuff of footsteps.

About damned time.

He lowered his hand and took a momentto lock the distant, but respectful smile Luis had responded to so well into place before he turned around. It wasn't Luis.

It was the man's housemaid. Again.

Son-of-a--

"I'm so sorry, Señor. I thought you had already been shown inside. If you please, follow me." Before Tom could argue, the woman turned, leaving him with little more than a choice view of her backside encased in the drab gray Luis seemed to favor in his servants. The woman's sensible shoes scuffed along the thick tiles until she reached a set of double doors and what appeared to be the entrance to yet another foyer.

Tom ground down what was left of his molars, as well as his patience, and took off after her. If Luis wasn't beyond those doors, he'd wait five minutes more, not a second over. He'd been dancing this tango with the Panamanian bastard for four bloody days. The references he'd constructed for this job were impeccable. Not to mention, he'd personally forced the Feds to plead down a Class A felony on a class B thug back in the States to ensure it. He'd had to. He needed an in with Luis's organization. And he needed it now.

Having come too far to turn back, Tom stepped through the double doors, discreetly casing the new room as he entered. This one was larger-hell, cavernous. Twin stone staircases flanked both sides of what was essentially an inner courtyard. They stretched up to connect the opposite ends of a balcony lined with arches. The verdigris fountain centered below the balcony dwarfed him. It also explained the steady stream of bubbling water he'd heard these past thirty minutes.

Tom scanned the stucco wall beyond the mermaid and her trio of gurgling fish and frowned. From almost the moment he met Luis, he'd known the man suffered from a terminal case of self-worship, in addition to delusions of dictatorship. That god-awful marble bust confirmed it. He was still frowning when the maid reached the base of the staircase on his right and halted abruptly. He turned toward her, uncertain if the woman intended for him to follow or remain here.

A moment later, he caught the scuff of another shoe. Like the maid's, this one came from behind. But this time, it was further away and up high. Luis? No, this tread was more a whisper. A woman's step. He was certain as the whisper grew into a series of soft taps.

Heels.

Luis's latest bed-warmer, he'd wager.

Tom turned again, but the stone mermaid and her trio of fish obscured his view. He stepped around the fountain only to find the side of the stone staircase equally unyielding.

Her shoes came into view first.

Off-white, with a modest two, two-and-a-half inch heel, they were the most tasteful things he'd spotted in the hacienda yet. By the time the mystery woman's calves came into view, Tom had grudgingly nudged his assessment of Luis's taste up a couple of notches. This mermaid was definitely not made of stone. She sported a perfectly matched set of tanned, slender legs, too, with nary a fishnet in sight. The sheen on those limbs came from one hundred percent silken flesh. The matching off-white linen sheath covering the woman's thighs and hips came next, and then, the rest. Even as his body reacted to the generous nips and swells beneath that sleeveless dress, his mind pulled the threads of memory. Recent memory.

The second they knotted into place, so did her face.

Christ, no. Not here. Not now.

The woman was in profile. Maybe it wasn't--

The dread locked in as she lifted her hand from the stone baluster to push a swath of gleaming dark brown hair past her shoulders as she continued down the stairs, offering him a lingering, damning view of the same slender neck and gently curving jaw he'd committed to memory from various photographs three short weeks ago. It was her, all right.

Anna Ortiz Shale.

The United States Navy's newest traitor.

What the hell was Luis up to? Today was the sixteenth. According to the dates on the woman's airline tickets, he should have had another full week to secure his infiltration of Luis's network before she returned to Panama.

Why hadn't he been warned?

She reached the bottom of the staircase, rendering the burning question moot. He masked his shock along with his fury as she turned to scan the room. A split second later, he was staring into that dark, steady gaze.

He forced himself to breathe.

He was Army. She was Navy. They'd never run into one another on a joint op. The likelihood of her recognizing him now was extremely remote. And yet...that stare. For a moment, he swore she could see into his soul. Then, just like that, it was over. Whatever had happened, whatever she'd thought she'd seen, she'd shaken it off. She stepped off the staircase and crossed the courtyard, her heels clicking across the flagstones until she reached the fountain. Until she reached him.

She stretched out her hand and smiled. "Anna Shale. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Wild. I'm afraid I fell asleep after my flight this afternoon and just now woke."

It was a lie.

He wasn't surprised. After all, she'd been living one for over half her life. He wasn't even surprised the lie had slipped so easily off what he'd already knew to be an extremely glib tongue. But he was disappointed--because she obviously expected him to swallow it. Yes, her eyes were red. But her pupils were also dilated. Not to mention unfocused. And then there was her poise. While the effect was still regal this close up, it was also overdone. As if it took all her concentration just to hold herself steady. Sleeping, his ass. The woman was on something.

Pills, booze, shooting up--he couldn't be sure which.

It didn't matter. He didn't even care if Luis had sent her in here with the authority to hire him on the spot. He'd be damned if he was going to strike a deal on something this important while the woman was as high as a kite.

He'd be lucky if she remembered it--or him.

Tom stared at the woman's hand, still extended, before meeting her too-carefully schooled gaze. "It's nice to have met you, Ms. Shale. Tell Luis I couldn't stay. I'll see myself out." He didn't bother waiting for the shock exploding in her eyes to settle before he spun around. He was halfway across the courtyard before she caught up with him, her heels clipping along his right as she grabbed at the sleeve of his suit. A suit he'd wasted on a no-show.

And a stoned by-blow.

"Wait! You can't just leave--"

He swung around, taking full advantage of his height. Even in heels, the top of her head barely reached his chin. He had to hand it to the woman though, she held her ground.

Her bravado probably came from the drugs.

"Lady, I can. And I am."

"But Luis--"

"Screw Luis. Not only did your cousin have the gall to send a woman to do a man's job-after I was kept waiting for half a bloody hour--but the woman he sent is flying higher than the flag hanging from that pole out front. Your cousin needs a fuse man? He can find someone else. I've withdrawn my offer." Tom turned back to the double doors.

"But...you can't."

The hell he couldn't. And she had to know it.

He kept walking.

"Mr. Wild, please."

He wasn't sure why, but he stopped. Maybe it was the husk in her voice. Maybe it was the distinct thread of panic. Did she need the buzz to keep from remembering what she'd done? Was she hooked on the stuff? Or did she just need it while she was here, living under her cousin's roof, drowning in the rancid muck of her cousin's life? Dammit, why did he even care? The woman had betrayed her nation. She'd murdered Manuel. Perhaps not personally. That, he couldn't be sure of. But he would find out. Eventually. It just wouldn't be today.

He took another step.

"Please."

Against his better judgment, he stopped--and turned.

She was less than eighteen inches away. Close enough to touch. Close enough for him to see the flecks of gold in her dark brown eyes. Close enough for him to feel the full brunt of that heady mix of sultry sex and regal cool. Close enough for him to taste the shadow of fear. He had to hand it to her. She was good. If he didn't know better, he'd swear it was real. It certainly looked real. But it wasn't.

And neither was she.

Manny was right. Those wide eyes, thick lashes and pouting lips made a man want to dive right in. If he drowned, so what? What better way to go, than to go clinging to those silk tresses, slipping into that smooth, honeyed flesh. Only the scar to the right of her lips marred it. As stunning as she was, it would have been easy to miss. Thin and no more than half an inch in length, it was a shade lighter than her complexion. But it caused the otherwise smooth skin at her mouth to pucker slightly.

He was grateful. When he looked into this face in the coming weeks, that scar would remind him of why he was really in Panama. And what he'd come to do.

He crossed his arms. "Well?"

She blinked.

Again, innocence incarnate.

She was either exceptionally good or exceptionally high. At the moment, it didn't matter which. After all the details that had gone into setting up this cover, he'd have sworn on his captain's bars it was solid. But those thirty minutes he'd spent cooling his heels in the foyer proved it wasn't. Anna's untimely appearance confirmed it. He'd either done or said something during the past few days that had raised the man's suspicions, or this was another one of Loony Louie's games. Either way, it was time to force the bastard's hand.

Luis was supposed to be desperate?

Then he could do the crawling for a change.

"Lady, I don't have all day. If you have something to say that'll stop me from walking right out of here and climbing aboard the next plane out of Panama, you'd better spill it now. But before you do, you should know that I already know who you are and what you used to do. I also know you sold out--whether or not the charges stuck. You're no better than me, honey. In fact, I'd say you're worse."

Her spine stiffened. Obviously he'd struck a nerve.

Good. It was time to strike another.

"I'm betting Luis flew you home early so you could give him your professional assessment of me and my skills. Why not do us both a favor and cut to the chase. Do I have the job or not?" Her gaze narrowed at the condescension dripping from his voice. The regal tilt to her chin returned, too.

"You're not the only one who's inquired, you know."

He smiled. "But I am the best."

Her gaze was focused now and sharpening by the second. Whatever she was on was wearing off. She crossed one smooth, bare arm over the other, locking both down as her chin cocked another notch. "So you say. Yes, your references check out. But they could be faked. The last man's were. How can Luis be sure you know how to light a match, let alone rig a bomb? How can I?"

If she hadn't mentioned Manny, he might have let it go.

But she had.

And he couldn't.

He closed in, ignoring the irony of her innocent floral scent as he plowed his hands into the dark cloud of her hair. He shoved the silken weight past her shoulders, his thumb timing the pulse throbbing in her throat as he leaned down to pour his promise directly into her ear. "You want proof of my skills? Lady, you just give the word. I'll light your fuse like it's never been lit before. And then I'll set you on fire."

He felt more than heard her strangled gasp.

He allowed himself the satisfaction of a grim smile at the ripple of shock that followed. Her hair swirled into place as he straightened and stepped away.

"As for your cousin, you tell Luis he has twenty-four hours to make up his mind. If he wants a demonstration of my professional skills, fine. I'll blow up all three locks on the goddamned Canal if he wants--but then I get paid." With that, he spun on his heels and headed for the front door.

This time, he didn't stop.

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