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Born of Passion
Carla Cassidy
Failure isn't an option! –Kyle Ramsey, top-gun pilotThe tension between Montebello and Tamir was escalating when Firstborn Son Kyle Ramsey embarked on a special operation to patrol the skies between the two feuding territories. His mission? Ward off acts of terrorism–and stake a claim on his woman and child. Three months ago he had shared a stolen night of passion with a mysterious beauty, which had stirred Kyle's heart, fulfilled his every fantasy–and left Joanna Morgan pregnant with his baby! Trouble was, Joanna had had her fill of rootless military men and now refused to surrender to Kyle's seductive powers of persuasion. But this was one battle that Kyle was determined to win….



FIRSTBORN SONS
PROFILE

Dear Reader,
As always, Intimate Moments offers you six terrific books to fill your reading time, starting with Terese Ramin’s Her Guardian Agent. For FBI agent Hazel Youvella, the case that took her back to revisit her Native American roots was a very personal one. For not only did she find the hero of her heart in Native American tracker Guy Levoie, she discovered the truth about the missing child she was seeking. This wasn’t just any child—this was her child.
If you enjoyed last month’s introduction to our FIRSTBORN SONS in-line continuity, you won’t want to miss the second installment. Carla Cassidy’s Born of Passion will grip you from the first page and leave you longing for the rest of these wonderful linked books. Valerie Parv takes a side trip from Silhouette Romance to debut in Intimate Moments with a stunner of a reunion romance called Interrupted Lullaby. Karen Templeton begins a new miniseries called HOW TO MARRY A MONARCH with Plain-Jane Princess, and Linda Winstead Jones returns with Hot on His Trail, a book you should be hot on the trail of yourself. Finally, welcome Sharon Mignerey back and take a look at her newest, Too Close for Comfort.
And don’t forget to look in the back of this book to see how Silhouette can make you a star.
Enjoy them all, and come back next month for more of the best and most exciting romance reading around.
Yours,


Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor

Born of Passion
Carla Cassidy


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Bound by the legacy of their fathers, six Firstborn Sons are about to discover the stuff true heroes—and true love—are made of….
Kyle Ramsey: When he returns to Montebello on a covert mission, this blatantly masculine Firstborn Son reunites with the exotic beauty he’d shared a night of passion with. Can this restless top-gun pilot reclaim the mother of his child?
Joanna Morgan: Out of self-preservation, this headstrong military attaché has been keeping a precious secret from her globe-trotting lover. For she yearns for the one thing an adventure-seeking Kyle can never give her—a place to call home.
Major Edward Ramsey: Though he’s raised his boys to be all they can be, his rebellious Firstborn Son will be the one to follow in his footsteps….
King Marcus: His kindness and compassion are legendary. But this formidable ruler’s kid gloves come off when his country and his kingdom are threatened!
Prince Lucas Sebastiani and Sheik Rashid Kamal: To the dismay of their families, these royal heirs are still missing in action….
A note from prolific author Carla Cassidy:
Dear Reader,
I was thrilled when I was asked to participate in another one of Silhouette’s exciting continuity series. This one, FIRSTBORN SONS, was especially fun, because it deals with a powerful covert organization, handsome, daring men of action, and women strong enough to love those men.
Born of Passion begins with a one-night stand that my hero, Kyle Ramsey, can’t forget and my heroine, Joanna Morgan, desperately wants to forget. One delicious, unforgettable night that stirs in these two strong people a passion that will make them fight the odds to find a lasting, forever kind of love.
I have been writing for Silhouette for the past nine years, and in that time have written over fifty books. I’ve been a Romance Writers of America RITA Award finalist and have won a variety of awards from Romantic Times Magazine.
I hope you enjoy reading Born of Passion as much as I enjoyed writing it.



Contents
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 1
Intoxicating.
Kyle Ramsey drew a deep breath, discerning the tang of lemon, delicate citrus blossoms and exotic spices among the many fragrances that rode the warm air that surrounded him.
Montebello. The sounds and smells of the Mediterranean island seemed to welcome him back as he grabbed his duffel bag and hopped into a taxi.
“The U.S. Embassy,” he said to the driver, then settled back in the seat.
It had been three months since he’d been here, and while on the surface Montebello showed no change, Kyle knew there had been changes…changes that threatened the fiber, the very heart, of the beautiful island.
He brushed at a tiny piece of lint on the sleeve of his naval uniform. He’d flown on a transport plane to Montebello and could have taken military transport to the embassy. But he’d opted for a taxi instead, needing time alone to think and to prepare himself for whatever responsibility lay ahead.
His commanding officer had been vague about Kyle’s exact mission when he’d given him the orders to return to Montebello. He’d simply explained that the ambassador in Montebello would fill Kyle in when he arrived.
“You’ve come to the prettiest island in the world,” the cabbie said, his dark eyes looking at Kyle through the rearview mirror.
“Have you been here long?” Kyle asked, recognizing a slight East Coast U.S. accent in the man’s voice.
“Ten years. Came out here to visit a friend for a week, but somehow I never left. This island is as bewitching as a beautiful woman. Once it gets you in its grasp, you never want to be released.”
The cabbie’s words instantly evoked a memory in Kyle’s mind—the memory of a single night with a local Montebello woman…a single night of the most mind-numbing, searing passion he’d ever experienced in his life.
They had met in a local bar, and she’d said her name was Marie. They’d spent the evening flirting outrageously with one another, performing an intense dance of courtship that had culminated in a nearby hotel room.
Although three months had passed since that crazy night, her bewitching image was still as sharply etched in his mind as it had been the first moment he’d spotted her.
Her dark brown hair had been a spill of silk to her shoulders. Her rich nut-brown eyes, with their sinfully long lashes, had flirted and danced. She’d had a heart-shaped face and full lips that had tantalized him.
Clad in a lacy white dress that emphasized not only her slender curves and long, shapely legs, but also the dark olive of her skin, she’d caught his eye the moment he’d walked into the place.
Their lovemaking had held an edge of wildness, as if they had indulged in foreplay for years instead of mere hours. When he’d finally fallen asleep with her in his arms, he’d had the feeling that for the first time in his thirty-one years, life was about to make some kind of sense.
In the morning she’d been gone, like a desert mirage that shimmered brightly in the sun, then vanished. He’d been shocked—bewildered—and surprisingly devastated.
He’d looked for her for two days, then had been called back to the States.
Now he was back in Montebello, but he didn’t expect to have time to dwell on thoughts of a dark-haired beauty who had turned his world upside down for a single night.
He sat up straighter as the U.S. Embassy came into view. The building itself was imposing with thick columns and steep steps leading to the grandiose building. An American flag on a tall pole fluttered in the breeze.
The driver pulled up in front, and Kyle paid him, then picked up his duffel bag and entered the embassy through the front doors.
A metal detector and a conveyor belt instantly confronted him. Both were a vivid reminder of the marvels of technology and the state of unrest around the world. And from what the rumor mill implied, nowhere was unrest more threatening than here in Montebello.
Tensions had risen between King Marcus Sebastiani of Montebello and Sheik Ahmed Kamal of the neighboring kingdom of Tamir. The tension had reached explosive proportions a month before when a bomb had detonated in a civilian square, destroying a restaurant and trapping people inside. The people of Montebello pointed fingers of blame to Kamal, furthering increasing tensions.
After walking through the metal detector, he had his identification checked and signed in for his appointment with Ambassador Nigel Templeton.
By the time Kyle had cleared security, an assistant had appeared to lead him to the ambassador’s office. “Joel Mayfield,” the young man said, and held his hand out to Kyle. He had the kind of crisp, clean attractiveness that all the people who worked at the embassy seemed to possess.
“Lieutenant Commander Kyle Ramsey,” Kyle replied, and firmly shook Joel’s hand. With the formalities out of the way, Joel led Kyle down a long hallway to a bank of elevators, past a number of offices buzzing with activity.
“I understand this isn’t your first trip to Montebello,” the assistant said as they stepped into the elevator and he punched the button for the fifth floor.
“That’s right. I was here several months ago,” Kyle replied.
“It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?”
Kyle nodded, and again his head filled with the vision of the beautiful woman who had given him the most memorable night of his life. He could still recall her haunting fragrance—a scent of exotic spices and a touch of citrus, as mysterious and romantic as this island itself.
Stepping out of the elevator, he shook his head, as if to physically dispel the seductive image. He needed to be clearheaded for his meeting with the ambassador. From the moment Kyle had been commanded to return to the island, he’d sensed something odd going on.
Although he’d previously met Ambassador Templeton, he’d never been in the man’s inner sanctum. The assistant led him into a large waiting room, nodded to the secretary on duty at a desk, then knocked lightly on the door just behind where she sat.
Joel opened the door and gestured for Kyle to enter. The office was large and airy, a corner room with windows. Ambassador Templeton rose from behind his large, mahogany desk, his hand outstretched in greeting.
“Lieutenant Commander Ramsey,” he said as they shook hands.
“It’s nice to see you again, Ambassador Templeton,” Kyle replied, then was waved into one of the chairs in front of the desk.
Nigel Templeton had been born in Phoenix, Arizona, though his parents were natives of Montebello. He’d grown up in the States, then his family had moved back to the island, and Nigel had begun a career in diplomacy and politics, culminating in him being appointed ambassador three years earlier.
He was a handsome man, his ethnicity apparent in his rich dark hair, deep olive skin and brown eyes, which radiated not only intelligence and dignity, but compassion as well. At the moment, his gaze was filled with worry, and lines of tension snaked across his forehead.
“Montebello is on the verge of a security crisis,” he began. “I know your commanding officer told you that your mission here would be as it was when you were here before—to protect American oil interests in the Middle East. But that’s not your real mission.”
Kyle leaned forward, intrigued.
“I’m sure you’ve heard that Prince Lucas Sebastiani is missing,” Ambassador Templeton continued.
Kyle nodded. “I read that his plane went down somewhere in the Colorado Rockies a couple months ago, and the search and rescue teams have yet to find his body.”
“A tragic state of affairs. As you can imagine, King Marcus is beside himself with grief. Compounding that sorrow is the fact that his daughter, Princess Julia, is pregnant, and the father of the baby is reported to be Sheik Ahmed Kamal’s son, Rashid.”
“But I would think this good news,” Kyle replied. “A union between Princess Julia and Sheik Rashid surely would end the tensions that have existed between Montebello and Tamir.”
Ambassador Templeton leaned back in his chair. “Unfortunately, Sheik Rashid has disappeared, and since he was last seen in the company of Princess Julia, Sheik Ahmed believes King Marcus had something to do with his son’s disappearance. Sheik Ahmed has let King Marcus know he’s prepared to take by force the land on Montebello that would have gone to Prince Lucas.”
Kyle frowned thoughtfully. If the nearby kingdom of Tamir waged battle against Montebello, the fragile peace of the entire Middle East would be shattered.
Once again Ambassador Templeton leaned forward, his dark gaze intense. “Officially, you are here as you were before, to protect American oil interests. Unofficially, you and your team of top gun pilots will be patroling the air space between Montebello and Tamir. You will be on a state of high alert, anticipating a potential air strike and invasion from Tamir. You will report to only three people—King Marcus himself, me or any of the Noble Men who might contact you.”
“The Noble Men?” Kyle looked at him in bewilderment.
“They are the ones who brought you here. They are the ones funding the entire mission of protection for King Marcus and Montebello.”
“I don’t understand. Who are these Noble Men?” Kyle felt as if the ambassador had suddenly begun to speak a foreign language.
“I’m only telling you this because King Marcus and the Noble Men agreed you should be told.” He stared out the window for a long moment, where the sky was an intense, almost surreal blue. “But first I must have your word that you will keep what I tell you in total confidence.”
“Of course I give you my word,” Kyle said instantly, his curiosity aroused to a fever pitch.
“Nobody knows exactly who they are, and very few people know of their existence.” Templeton looked back at Kyle. “What we do know is that they are a covert organization of wealthy, powerful men.” His voice was filled with admiration and respect. “They are peacekeepers and protectors who save lives and restore order, often financing and planning rescue missions in situations where government hands are tied.”
Kyle’s head reeled with the information he’d just been handed. A covert organization, men wielding power and influence for world peace… It sounded like something from an action-adventure movie, and yet he had no reason to doubt what the ambassador had shared with him.
“You said that these Noble Men were the ones who brought me here. Why me?”
For the first time since the ambassador had greeted Kyle, he smiled. “I can’t know for sure, and I wouldn’t begin to question the choices the Noble Men make, but I would imagine it’s because you are one of the best pilots that the United States Navy has to offer.”
His smile faded. “You must understand that, officially, the United States military is not involved in this operation. Unofficially, they will allow you to use their planes and their equipment, and will provide ground support. I’m placing one of my top military attachés in charge of the ground support unit. She will be available to you day and night, whatever it takes to make this mission a success. Her name is Joanna Morgan.”
The ambassador looked down at his wristwatch. “I had hoped she would join us here, but apparently she’s been held up. We’d like to get twenty-four-hour patrols started as soon as possible.”
He stood and Kyle did the same. “You will be staying in your family apartment?”
Kyle hesitated only a moment, then nodded. He’d have preferred to stay on the base, but apparently that wasn’t where the ambassador wanted him.
“Good, then if you’ll just have a seat in the reception area, I’m sure Joanna will be here momentarily. She can drive you to your apartment and you two can begin strategizing your mission.”
He walked around the desk and once again held out his hand to Kyle. “Thank you, Lieutenant Commander, for being available to serve not only the Noble Men, but the people of Montebello as well.”
“I look forward to getting to work immediately,” Kyle replied. The two men said their goodbyes and Kyle left the office.
“May I get you a cup of coffee while you wait?” the secretary asked with a friendly smile.
“No thanks, I’m fine.” Kyle sat in one of the dark blue, upholstered chairs, wondering how long he’d have to wait for this Joanna Morgan to show.
Now that he knew exactly what his mission here would be, he was eager to get started. His mind replayed all that Nigel Templeton had told him.
Two grieving fathers—a king and a sheik—both pointing fingers at the other. If war broke out, the consequences would be felt around the world.
The Noble Men. To say that the concept of a secret organization of wealthy, influential men intrigued him would be a vast understatement. Who were they? What had driven them to form such an organization? What made some men become altruistic and idealistic, while others became fat-cat corporate heads, worshipping the almighty dollar?
He shoved away the mental picture of his father that suddenly sprang to his mind. At the moment he had more important things to think about than Edward Ramsey.
He’d given his word that he would not speak of the Noble Men, and his mind worked to figure out just what he could tell his team of flyers and what he couldn’t. They needed to know only their objective, to keep the skies free of threat, and Kyle was confident they would follow his instructions without question.
A woman walked in, swiftly crossing the room to the receptionist desk. Although Kyle saw her only from the back, he couldn’t help but admire the long shapely legs beneath the short navy skirt, the curvy form of her derriere and the shiny dark hair tied back at the nape of her neck.
She spoke to the receptionist, but their voices were too low for him to hear. He wondered if this woman was the one he’d been waiting for—Joanna Morgan.
When she turned around, a shock of recognition ripped through him. “Marie,” he whispered. At the same time his gaze shot to the name on her badge: Joanna M. Morgan.
She gasped, her dark eyes wide. Before he had time to say another word, she raced past him and out into the hallway, as if she’d seen the very devil himself.
Kyle didn’t hesitate. He jumped out of his chair and ran after her.

Joanna Morgan raced down the hallway and ducked into a nearby ladies’ room. She leaned against the door with all her weight, almost afraid he might barge in after her.
It couldn’t be him. She wasn’t supposed to ever see him again!
What was he doing here?
She waited a moment for her breathing to slow, then moved away from the door and stood at one of the three sinks. She stared into the mirror at her reflection. She looked as if she’d just seen a ghost. She had. She’d seen the ghost of passion past.
Kyle Ramsey. It had been him. There was no pretending. Kyle had been sitting in the ambassador’s waiting room.
She closed her eyes and instantly was granted a vivid mental picture of him. That thick, wavy brown hair, those charcoal-gray eyes and those full, sensual lips had haunted her for the past couple of months.
It was almost exactly three months ago that she had made love to a virtual stranger. She’d like to believe that she had been drunk, but she knew better. Joanna never did anything to excess, especially drink.
No, she hadn’t been drunk—she’d been intoxicated by the sexy charm that had radiated from his eyes, inebriated by the flirtatious, playful banter they had shared, smashed on the blatant masculine sexuality that had rolled off him in waves.
“Marie.” A rapid knock sounded on the door.
She bit her lower lip, fighting against a wave of nausea. She’d never expected to see him again. Their night together had been a crazy lapse of judgment, a momentary slide into insanity, a wild ride of abandonment that had been completely out of character for her.
“Marie…Joanna.” This time the knock was louder and echoed with a touch of impatience. “You can’t stay in there all day. Sooner or later you have to come out.”
He was right, of course. She couldn’t stay in here forever, but she needed a little time to regain her equilibrium. She wasn’t ready to come out yet. She still hadn’t fully recovered from the absolute shock of seeing him again.
“Joanna, we have work to do.” His voice came softly through the door.
Work to do? What work could they have to do? A new wave of despair swept through her as her brain struggled to make sense of his words.
Oh heavens, he’d come from the ambassador’s office. He’d been in there when the ambassador was to meet with the top gun navy pilot who was sharing her new assignment with her.
Just that morning Ambassador Templeton had told her about her new, important assignment—providing ground support for a team of top gun fliers who were coming in unofficially to patrol the skies over Montebello.
Kyle was the top gun navy pilot, and she would be working with him until the current tensions between Montebello and Tamir were resolved. Fate had a hysterical sense of humor, she thought. Unfortunately, at the moment she wasn’t laughing, she simply felt as if she might throw up.
“Buck up,” she commanded herself. “You’re a professional and you will act like one.” She slid a hand down her navy skirt, then drew a deep breath, opened the door and stepped out.
The last time she’d seen Kyle Ramsey, he’d been wearing jeans and a polo shirt. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The very last time she’d seen him, he’d been gloriously naked and asleep. That final vision of him exploded in her head, granting her an unwelcome image of his naked body stretched out on white sheets.
“Joanna M. Morgan.” His gaze lingered a moment on her badge before returning to her face. “I assume the M stands for Marie?”
She nodded. He’d looked marvelous clad in jeans and a shirt. He’d looked sinfully sexy naked against crisp white sheets, but at the moment he looked arrogant and commanding in his pristine, wrinkle-free uniform.
“So, should I call you Joanna or Marie?” His slate eyes glittered brightly. “Or is Marie the name you use only when you’re picking up men in bars?”
She gasped. “I did not pick you up,” she exclaimed indignantly before abruptly changing the subject. She fumbled with her purse and withdrew her car keys. “I understand I’m to take you to where you will be staying. Shall we go?”
She marched ahead of him, mortified by the entire situation. She’d allowed herself to be seduced, had indulged in some seduction of her own that night. But when she’d awakened early the next morning, she’d been appalled by what she’d done.
Even worse was discovering that Kyle Ramsey was in the military. She’d crept out of the room, consoling herself with the knowledge that she would never see him again.
She didn’t look at him now until they were alone in the elevator. Then it was impossible to avoid doing so.
He filled the entire cubicle with his presence, with the spicy scent of his cologne and a subtle underlying fragrance of clean male. His eyes, with their sinful, long dark lashes and wicked gleam, swept her from head to toe, evoking tiny heat bursts wherever his gaze lingered.
His lips curved into a lazy smile that she remembered far too vividly from their night together. “Don’t you know it’s the height of bad manners to sneak away from a lover while he’s sleeping?”
“We weren’t lovers and I think it’s most unchivalrous of you to even mention that night.”
He took a step closer to her. With the high beam of his bedroom eyes on her and the nearly blinding charm of his smile, she suddenly remembered how easy it had been to succumb to his seduction.
“We were lovers for that night, and why shouldn’t I mention it? It’s definitely a fond memory for me.”
The elevator doors slid open, and Joanna nearly leaped out in an effort to escape the close proximity.
“Lieutenant Commander—”
“Kyle,” he interjected as he fell into step beside her. “I figure any woman who has seen me naked should be able to call me by my first name.”
Joanna refused to rise to his obvious baiting, but her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Okay, fine,” she continued as they left the embassy building and walked toward the nearby parking area. “Kyle, we have a job to do…an important job. And it would be best if we could just pretend that we met for the first time right now.”
She stopped walking as they reached her small sports car. She unlocked the passenger door, then turned to face him, swallowing a gasp as she realized just how close he stood to her.
“Don’t tell me you’re married,” he said.
“Of course not,” she replied indignantly.
“Why didn’t you tell me you worked at the embassy?” he asked, and took another step closer, effectively trapping her between her car and his hard, muscled body.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a hotshot top gun?” she countered.
She’d realized he was a military man early the next morning, when she’d awakened and gotten up to go to the bathroom. She’d spied his wallet on the bathroom counter. The wallet was open, displaying military identification. It was that that had prompted her to leave him, sneaking out like a thief just as the dawn had began to creep across the sky.
A slow, seductive smile curved his lips. “I didn’t tell you I was a pilot because I wanted you to like me for who I was, not what I did for a living.” He reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
The simple touch galvanized her. She slid sideways, freeing herself from contact with the car and with him. “Like I said, it would be best if we’d just forget we had any dealings with each other before now.”
She didn’t wait for him to reply, but instead walked around the car and unlocked the driver’s door. She slid behind the wheel at the same time he got in on the passenger side. She started to put the key in the ignition, but was stopped by his hand grabbing hers.
His long fingers curled around her wrist, warm and strong, and for just a second she remembered what those fingers had felt like touching her intimately. She felt a renewed burst of heat flame in her cheeks.
“Okay, we’ll pretend that night never happened…on one condition,” he said.
“What condition?” She eyed him suspiciously.
There was no humor in his eyes, no flirtatious light whatsoever. “Tell me why you left that morning. Tell me why you left without saying a word to me.”
She pulled her hand from his, her mind racing for an explanation that would effectively douse any attraction he might still entertain for her.
“To be perfectly honest, Kyle,” she began, wondering if perhaps what she was about to say was too over the top, verging on cruel. She quickly decided to forge ahead.
Better he hate her and stay out of her life than find out that their night of passion hadn’t been without consequence. Better he hate her than find out she was pregnant with his child. “As lovers go, you weren’t that great. In fact, you were terrible.”

Chapter 2
Kyle stared at her for a long moment, then, unable to help himself, he threw back his head and laughed. “Darling, there are only two things in this world I’ve been told I do really well. One of them is flying planes…” he paused a moment, then continued “…and the other is making love.”
He watched her cheeks burn with color as she jabbed the key into the ignition and started the engine. “You certainly weren’t doing much complaining that night,” he added softly. “And don’t try to tell me you were pretending. I know the difference between reality and a good acting stint. I still remember the way your heart raced with mine, the sweet sound of your moans…”
“Okay,” she snapped. “Forget I said anything.” She threw the car into gear and backed out of the parking space. “Where am I taking you?”
“You know where Ramsey Enterprises is?”
Those sooty eyes of hers shot him a sharp glance. “You’re one of those Ramseys?”
“Firstborn son.” He was pleased his voice held none of his ambiguous feelings concerning his family, more specifically, his father. “There’s a small apartment complex on the grounds of the business. My family has an apartment there, and that’s where I’ll be staying for the duration of this mission.”
For a few minutes they rode in silence. Her scent, that mysterious, spicy fragrance that had haunted him, filled the confines of the small car and evoked heated memories of that night they’d spent together.
She could lie all she wanted about him being a lousy lover, but he had intimate knowledge of just how intensely she had responded to him.
They had made love as if all the time in eternity was theirs, and he had made certain that she was completely, almost exhaustively sated before he’d allowed himself the ultimate release.
He gazed at her as she maneuvered the car through the midmorning traffic. She was as lovely—lovelier—than he remembered. Her dark hair had the sheen of satin, and her skin was smooth and unblemished.
She had killer eyes. Dark with thick, sooty lashes, they sparkled with life and the promise of hidden passion…passion he’d tapped into and tasted and thoroughly enjoyed. They also held just a touch of mystery, prompting a man to want to delve inside her and discover all the secrets she might possess.
The night he had met her, the white dress she’d been wearing had been short, exposing the length of her shapely legs, and tight, emphasizing her curves. She’d looked ultrafeminine, with red lipstick on her sensuous lips and a flirtatious glint in her eyes.
There was no sign of that woman in the one who now sat next to him. Clad in a navy blazer and skirt, with her hair pulled back and minimal makeup, she looked crisp, controlled and utterly professional.
“You didn’t answer when I asked before—why didn’t you tell me when I first met you that you worked for the embassy?” he asked.
“I wanted you to like me for who I was, not what I did.” She echoed his own words back to him.
“Touché,” he replied dryly. “At least I gave you my real name.” There was more than a touch of irritation in his voice. And he was surprised to realize he was irritated with her…irritated that she’d given him a fake name.
He was miffed that she’d disappeared like a puff of smoke when he’d believed they had made a connection that had somehow transcended their explosive lovemaking.
There had been times when he’d wanted to vamoose from a bed before his companion awakened and he had to face the morning reality. But he’d never, ever had a woman hightail it out of his bed without a backward glance.
Until Joanna Marie Morgan.
“So, why didn’t you give me your real name?” he asked.
“Don’t you think we have more important things to discuss besides a foolish night spent three months ago?” Although her voice was cool, her cheeks were still a becoming, unnatural pink.
“You’re absolutely right,” he said, peeved that she was reminding him of duty when that should be the first thing on his mind. He stared out the window at the passing scenery, then continued, “I’m assuming the ambassador filled you in on everything.”
She nodded and made a righthand turn. “I believe I’ve been briefed on everything I need to know. I’ve already been in touch with the brass at the base, and they are expecting us to set up operations there sometime early in the morning. Unofficially, they will do whatever they can. Your team of fliers have been contacted and should all be here in Montebello by this evening.”
He stared out the window for another long moment, then turned to look at her once again. “Do you really think Sheik Ahmed Kamal is going to order aggressive action against Montebello?”
She frowned. “I don’t think anyone can guess what a man might do out of grief.” She pulled into the entrance of Ramsey Enterprises and looked at him curiously as they came to a fork in the road.
He pointed to the left and she made the turn. “Sheik Ahmed is a strong, proud man,” she continued, “a family man who suddenly finds his eldest son missing and suspects that King Marcus had something to do with his disappearance. King Marcus is also functioning from grief and anger from the loss of his own son, Prince Lucas, who reportedly perished in a plane crash a few months ago. At the moment, I’d say one is as much a loose cannon as the other.”
“And a loose cannon is exactly what this area of the world doesn’t need.”
“Exactly,” she agreed.
“Pull up in front of the apartment building,” he said, pointing ahead to the attractive three-story structure. “Our family quarters are on the top floor. You can just let me off in front.” He offered her a lazy smile. “Unless you would like to come up and have a replay of our night together.”
She braked so hard that, had he not been wearing his seat belt, he would have been catapulted out the front window. When she turned to look at him, her eyes were dark fires of anger and her cheeks were stained with color.
“That night, Kyle, was an anomaly. I acted completely out of character and I regret that it even happened. I have been assigned to work with you, and that’s what I intend to do—work and nothing more.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Can’t you just forget about it?”
His desire to touch her was overwhelming. A simple caress to her soft cheek, or a stroke of that silky, shiny hair—that’s all he wanted. It was as if he needed a physical confirmation that she was real and not some mirage that would once again vanish in the blink of an eye.
This irrational need to touch her simply renewed his irritation with her once again. He opened the car door and stepped out, then opened the back door to retrieve his duffel bag. “Why don’t you come by for me tomorrow at 0500 hours. I can have my men in the air by dawn.”
“Fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He slammed the door and jumped back as she pulled away, roaring off as if all the demons from hell were chasing her. He watched until her car was out of sight, then turned and headed into the apartment building.
Emotions rolled inside him, unsettling emotions about Joanna. He’d spent three months thinking about her, thinking about that night they’d shared. Of all the women he’d been with, the image of her had remained in his head longer than any other.
Was it because she was the only one who had ever walked away from him? Was it because in his past relationships, long and short, he had been the one who had always walked away?
He nodded to the security man on duty, then headed for the elevator that would take him to the top floor apartment.
As soon as the elevator began moving upward, he felt an old familiar constriction tightening his chest.
When the elevator stopped, he stepped out and dug in his pocket for the key to the door just ahead. He opened the door and stepped onto the plush, thick beige carpeting. The air was comfortably cool and smelled faintly of lemon oil and fresh flowers.
His mother must have called in the cleaning crew to make sure the place was ready for his arrival, despite the fact that he’d told her he’d probably be staying at the base.
He hated staying here, much preferred the simple, impersonal space at the military base. This luxurious, four-bedroom apartment, which spanned the entire top floor of the building, was a testimony that his fat-cat father had sold out long ago and chosen money over honor.
Kyle dropped his duffel bag on the floor next to the overstuffed sofa, then walked over to the marble bar that occupied a corner of the living room.
What he wanted was a drink—a smooth shot of good whiskey to take the edge off the tremendous shock of seeing Marie…Joanna…again. Instead, he reached for a can of fruit juice, knowing he needed to be clearheaded early in the morning.
He popped the lid, took a swallow, then sank down on the sofa. Joanna’s drink of choice had been a Tom Collins with a lime twist, and when he’d kissed her for the first time, he’d tasted not only the intense heat of her mouth, but a touch of gin and a tang of lime as well.
Funny, now that he thought about the conversation they’d shared that night, he realized it had been pretty superficial.
They hadn’t talked about their jobs or their families, they’d merely indulged in a lighthearted bantering that had been both amusing and stimulating. Their conversation had been filled with innuendos, a verbal foreplay he had found exciting.
But beneath the superficiality, he’d sensed something in her that had touched something inside him…a wistfulness, a yearning…something he couldn’t quite define and couldn’t quite forget. All he knew was that he had been incredibly drawn to her and had believed she’d felt the same way about him.
In the months since that night, she had grown to epic proportions in his mind. Was she simply a player? A woman who took her pleasure with men, then fled so there would be no messy emotions, no unnecessary entanglements?
After the initial shock of seeing him today, she’d seemed fairly cool and calm. Her desire that he forget their night together hit a sour note with him.
Had she been totally unaffected by what they had shared? Could she so easily forget how sweetly their bodies had come together? Could she dismiss without pause the magic they’d spun when dancing together, laughing together, loving together? He frowned with annoyance. It would seem so.
He finished his juice and threw out the can, then picked up his duffel bag and headed into the bedroom he called his own when staying at the apartment. The room, like the rest of the place, was large and luxurious. Decorated in deep blues and pale silver, it boasted big, masculine furniture. Photos of Kyle in uniform hung on the walls.
It took him only minutes to hang his clothes in the closet and set his toiletries on the counter in the adjoining bathroom. Then he wandered back into the living room, his head still consumed with thoughts of Joanna Marie Morgan.
She had made it quite clear that she had no intention of picking up where they’d left off, that she just wanted to forget that single night they had shared together.
But he couldn’t do that. He had to have some answers. He needed to have some closure where she was concerned. He wanted to know why she had left him that morning after they had made love so passionately, then fallen asleep in one another’s arms.
More than answers, he wanted one more night with her. What he wasn’t sure of was if he wanted one more night of the pleasure of making love to her, or if he simply wanted an opportunity to be the one to walk away.

At precisely 0500 hours the next morning, Joanna knocked on the Ramsey apartment door. The security officer on duty had told her to go on up, that Lieutenant Commander Ramsey was waiting for her. For the past month she’d been experiencing morning nausea, but none quite as intense as what she felt at the moment.
Nerves, she told herself. She’d been a nervous wreck from the moment she’d seen him again. The one time in her life she’d made a mistake and done something irrational, spontaneous and stupid, fate had to be a perverse jokester and throw the mistake right back in her face.
Her “mistake” opened the door, looking as breathtakingly handsome and male as ever. “Ah, Joanna, right on time.” He stepped aside and gestured her in.
She swept past him, knowing he was freshly showered from the scent of soap. He was dressed not in his uniform, but casually, in tight jeans and a pale blue, short-sleeved dress shirt that emphasized taut biceps. It was similar to what he’d been wearing on the night they had first met.
He closed the door behind her and she found herself in a huge, airy living room. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. Help yourself.”
“No, thanks,” she replied, the very thought making her stomach twist and buck. Lately it was rare that she drank coffee or ate anything besides crackers before noon. Her morning sickness made it virtually impossible to keep much of anything down.
“Then have a seat. I’ll be ready to head out in just a minute.” He disappeared down a hallway and into what she assumed was one of the bedrooms.
Joanna didn’t sit, but rather wandered around the room. At least he’d been impersonal and businesslike so far, she thought as she moved to a wall of windows and peered out.
It was still too dark outside to be able to see what kind of view the windows would provide. In her mind, she didn’t see the darkness of predawn, but rather a vivid picture of how Kyle had looked the morning she’d sneaked out of the hotel room.
He’d been gloriously naked and stretched out on his stomach. His golden, tanned back had looked impossibly broad against the white sheets of the bed, and his slender waist, buttocks and long, lanky legs had made him look like a model in a pinup calendar.
From the moment he’d walked into that bar that night and their eyes had met, she’d known. She’d known that before the night was over they would be in bed together. It had been wonderfully exciting and more than a little bit frightening at the same time.
She moved away from the window and consciously forced herself to focus on a bookcase and an array of framed photographs on one of the shelves.
They were apparently photos of the Ramsey family. In one picture, a smiling older couple stood just behind three young boys. It was obvious the child in the center was Kyle. Even then, at the age of about ten or twelve, he’d been handsome. His features were clean-cut and well defined, and there was already a confident gleam in his eyes.
She assumed the older couple were his parents, and it was obvious by the expressions on their faces that they were proud of their boys.
A wistful yearning echoed in an empty chamber of her heart. How wonderful it must be to have a family, to always know you had a place where you belonged, where you were loved.
“I see you found the family photos.”
She whirled around to face him. “Yes. These are your brothers?” She pointed to the photo that had captured her attention.
“Yeah.” Kyle walked over and stood next to her…far too close. “This is Jake. He’s twenty-nine, two years younger than I am. He just became CEO of Ramsey Enterprises.” He pointed to the other young boy in the picture. “And that’s Tyler. He’s twenty-eight and works for the company, also.”
“So, you’re the only rebel who didn’t go to work for Ramsey Enterprises?” she asked, half-teasingly.
His eyes darkened and he turned away from the pictures. “Something like that.”
She looked at one of the other pictures. It was an older photograph of a young man in uniform. “Your father was in the Air Force?”
“Yeah. He’s a decorated Vietnam War hero.” Pride was evident in his low voice. For a moment his gaze remained on the picture of his father, then he frowned. “But he quit the military to join corporate America and fill his coffers with money.” He turned to look at her, his gray eyes turbulent. “Let’s get going.”
“Okay.” She’d obviously touched a nerve.
As they left the apartment and got into her car, Joanna thought of everything she knew about Ramsey Enterprises. She knew that the company was owned by Edward Ramsey and headquartered in the United States. The plant on Montebello was one of three that worked to produce plane parts.
She hadn’t imagined the tension in Kyle’s voice when he’d spoken of his father. Apparently there was strain between Edward Ramsey and his firstborn son.
“So, what about your family? You have brothers or sisters?” he asked when they were in her car and headed toward the nearby military base.
The yearning that never seemed to be completely still echoed once again inside her. “No brothers, no sisters. No immediate family since my father died three years ago.”
“What about your mother?” he asked.
“She died when I was born.”
“That’s tough.”
Joanna said nothing, although she wanted to tell him that the loss of her mother hadn’t been half as tough as life with her military father.
She’d spent her childhood being pulled from base to base and raised by hired help, some good, some not so good, and none of them family.
The end result was that she had no place to call home…no connection to anyone else in the world. The night she had met Kyle and slept with him, she had been driven by an overwhelming need to connect, and “connecting” with him had been frighteningly wonderful—until she’d realized he was military, just like her father.
“That night I first met you, I just assumed you were a local woman. Your coloring—your features—are of the locals.”
She felt his gaze warming her face and wondered why, despite knowing he was absolutely wrong for her and there would never, ever be any future relationship between them, she remained so acutely aware of him, so intimately drawn to him.
“My mother was a native of Montebello. My father met her while he was based here.”
“Your father was in the military?”
“Army.” She offered nothing else and searched her mind for a way to change the topic. “I understand there are ten pilots comprising your team for this mission.”
He nodded and directed his gaze forward out the window, where the military base had come into view. “Two of the men will aid you in ground support, the rest of us will take eight-hour shifts in the air, with time on the ground only for refueling. We’ll refuel in shifts as well, so there is always at least one plane flying.”
They stopped speaking as she pulled up to the guard shack in front of the military base. Fifteen minutes later, she sat in the back of a small room that had been transformed into an operation center for their “unofficial” mission. State-of-the-art equipment lined one wall, complete with radar screens and high-tech computers.
She watched and listened as Kyle addressed the men seated before him, explaining what their jobs would be and the shifts that would be taken.
It was impossible not to notice the authority and respect Kyle commanded from the men. He wore his casual clothes as elegantly as he wore his uniform, and an appealing self-confidence oozed from his very pores.
He’s the father of my baby. The realization struck her like a startling blow to the chest. Until this moment, the baby inside her had been something of a dream, not quite real to her. But now the reality exploded inside her.
She was pregnant, and in approximately six months time she would have a baby—Kyle’s baby. Her hand moved to her abdomen, as if to stroke the life that grew within.
The child she carried would get half of its DNA from the man before her. And Kyle had no idea that on the night they had shared, he’d given her a piece of himself that could never be retrieved, a piece that would be a part of her life for the rest of her days.
What would he do if he knew? There was no way she could guess what his reaction would be if he discovered that he was the father of the baby.
She knew how he kissed, how his skin felt beneath her fingertips. She knew how his heart felt racing against her own, how his breathing quickened with each stroke of her skin. But all of that intimate knowledge told her nothing about how he might react to the news of his pending fatherhood.
Not that she intended to tell him. No way! Again her hand touched her stomach and a maelstrom of love cascaded through her. This was her baby, and the child would be the family she never had.
She knew all she needed to know about Kyle Ramsey. He was first and foremost a military man, a rootless bachelor who thrived on adventure, a man who probably had a woman in every port.
Kyle was a man just like her father, who had pulled her from post to post, never staying in one place long enough for her to feel any stability or sense of home. All he’d wanted to do was fight wars. He didn’t want a family or roots.
For a single night she’d been Kyle’s Montebello woman, and if she’d slept later that morning, she was certain she would have been the one to wake up all alone in bed.
She knew from experience that it was better to have no father than a military father. Kyle Ramsey would never know about the baby. Never.

Chapter 3
“Eagle One to base.”
Joanna swallowed the yawn that had been about to take control of her mouth, and flipped the button on the radio control panel so she could respond. “Base… Go ahead, Eagle One.”
“Ah, McCreary must have taken a break.” Kyle’s voice was deep and smooth and sounded as if he were standing right next to her instead of thousands of feet in the air. “Your sweet, sexy voice is a pleasant surprise.”
Heat swept through Joanna. Drat the man, even from miles away he could set her heart to racing. What was it about him that made her feel all fluttery inside? Maybe she had indigestion.
“Just thought I’d let you know we’re coming in,” he continued. “The relief team just came into sight.”
“The ground crew is ready for you, and you’re cleared for landing,” she replied, and smiled at Jason McCreary as he resumed a seat next to her and put on a second headset. Jason was an old friend of Kyle’s and a top-notch flyer who had been assigned to ground support with Joanna for the day.
“Joanna.” Kyle’s voice came again, strong and clear over the radio. “That morning you left me in bed all alone in the hotel room…was it because I was hogging all the pillows?”
Joanna couldn’t hide her gasp of disbelief that he would ask such a thing over the radio with McCreary sitting right next to her. “Eagle One, you’re breaking up. I can’t understand you. You’re cleared for landing.”
She yanked off the headset, aware of McCreary’s amused gaze on her. She turned and glared at him. “Don’t you say a word.”
He held up his hands and grinned, his freckles appearing to dance all across his broad, open face. “I wasn’t going to say a word,” he protested, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. “Of course, I’d be lying to you if I didn’t say I wasn’t just a tad curious.”
Joanna got up from her chair. “You know what curiosity did to the cat,” she replied.
He laughed and focused his attention back on business as one of the other pilots radioed in.
Joanna had quickly taken a liking to Jason McCreary, whose round face and freckles made him look like an old version of the irrepressible Huck Finn. He was friendly and open and spent much of the day talking about his wife and his two kids, whom he obviously adored. Joanna had been totally at ease around him.
However, she had certainly not intended for him to know that she’d spent any time at all in a hotel room with his commanding officer.
Drat Kyle Ramsey, anyway. The man was beyond aggravating.
She fumed inwardly and poured herself a cup of water from the nearby cooler. Sitting in one of the chairs that surrounded a large table, she gazed at her watch. It was almost three o’clock.
The first day of their mission had zoomed by despite the fact that it had been a relatively boring one. Boring was what they wanted. Boring meant there had been no signs of aggression from Tamir, no lives at risk or crazy aerial combat dramas.
She sipped the water and realized she was ravenous. She’d eaten no breakfast, had consumed only an apple and a small bag of pretzels around eleven, and now her stomach was letting her know it required a real meal.
Officially, her duties were over for the day, and the way the schedule was set up, she wasn’t required to be back here until two the next afternoon. She pulled out one of the schedules from her paperwork and studied it.
It annoyed her that Kyle had set up the work schedule and had arranged for her to work all the same times he was. As he’d handed her the schedule, he’d mentioned that this way they could ride to and from the base together. As if he didn’t have access to other transportation. As if he couldn’t afford to rent a car…
She didn’t understand what he hoped to gain by forcing them to spend time together. Surely she’d made it clear to him that she didn’t intend to indulge in a repeat performance of the night they had spent together.
Although she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge that for the past twenty-four hours she’d spent far too much time remembering that night.
She had a feeling that the time she’d spent in Kyle’s arms would always be a heady, powerful memory, that it was forever burned not only into her head, but into every fiber of her body.
She was still seated at the table when Kyle walked in. Instantly, as he entered through the door, the space in the room seemed to shrink and the air filled with crackling energy.
That had been one of the first things that drew her to him that night in the bar—the aura of intense energy that had emanated from him.
“Good afternoon,” he said, his gray eyes glittering brightly as he grinned rakishly at Joanna. He walked past McCreary and ruffled the man’s red hair. “Hey, McCreary, how’s that woman of yours?”
“Great,” McCreary replied as Kyle went to the cooler and got himself a glass of water.
It was obvious he was pumped with energy, and Joanna couldn’t help but notice how utterly wonderful he looked in his flight suit. The navy material pulled taut across his broad shoulders and displayed his slim stomach and lean hips to perfection.
He downed the water, crumpled the paper cup and tossed it in the trash, then grinned once again at Joanna. “Our first patrol can be written down as a success. We encountered nothing but blue skies and a fantastic view of the wonders of Montebello. You ready to go?”
She nodded and stood.
“Just let me get out of these clothes,” he said, and began to unzip the flight suit. Joanna’s breath seemed to momentarily stop as she caught a glimpse of tanned chest and a sprinkling of dark hair before he turned and grabbed his clothes, then disappeared into the bathroom next door.
She released a sigh of relief, grateful he’d left when he had. She didn’t want to see any more of that hard, muscled chest, didn’t want to remember how that flesh, those muscles and that springy hair had felt beneath her fingertips.
And she certainly didn’t want to remember the pleasure of her bare breasts against his chest. The man was positively a menace to her peace of mind.
He returned dressed in the clothes he’d had on when she’d picked him up that morning. “Ready?” he asked.
“See you tomorrow,” McCreary said as Joanna grabbed her purse.
“Contact us if there are any developments or problems,” Kyle said to McCreary.
As Joanna and Kyle walked to her car, Joanna fought the impulse to tear into him about the personal, intimate information he’d relayed over the radio, but she had a feeling he wanted to get a rise out of her. She decided her best course of action was not to snap at his bait.
“This island has got to be one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen from the sky,” he said as they got into her car. “The last time I was here, I never got an opportunity to do any sightseeing.”
“So you haven’t seen the beautiful beaches or the mountains.”
“The only things I’ve seen while here are the military base, Ramsey Enterprises and a certain hotel room.” He gazed at her meaningfully.
“Then you must find time to see the island,” she said, once again refusing to rise to his obvious baiting.
“Perhaps I can persuade you to give me an island tour when we have a little extra time.”
She smiled dryly and started her car. “Your powers of persuasion aren’t that good.”
He laughed, that wonderful deep rumble that seemed to resonate from his chest. “Could I persuade you to stop and get something to eat right now? I am absolutely starving.”
The request seemed innocent enough, and she thought of several drive-through fast-food places she could hit on the way back to his apartment. She would get herself something as well; that way she wouldn’t have to cook and could just go home and relax.
“All right,” she agreed as they drove away from the base. “I’m pretty hungry myself.”
“Great, I know a terrific little place not far from here that serves the best Mediterranean food.”
Joanna frowned. “I was thinking more of something like a drive-through.”
She felt his gaze warm on her face. “What’s the matter, Joanna? Afraid of being seen with me in public?”
“Of course not,” she scoffed, inwardly chiding herself for her uneasiness. How difficult could it be to sit across from him and eat a meal in a public restaurant? “Mediterranean sounds great to me.”
“Good.” He sat back in the seat and looked inordinately pleased with himself.
He gave her directions to the restaurant, one she’d never eaten at but had heard had excellent food. It took them only minutes to reach it.
The interior was dark and atmospheric, with small round tables set in tiny alcoves, allowing the utmost in intimacy.
Joanna’s first impulse was to back out, to tell him to forget it, but the scents of savory food wafted in the air and again she told herself it was ridiculous to be worried about a simple meal shared with Kyle Ramsey.
There were just a few diners there. It was too late for the lunch crowd and far too early for the dinner rush. Joanna and Kyle were led to a table near the back of the restaurant, where the lighting was dim and the soft strains of exotic lute music could be heard drifting in the air.
They were handed menus, then left alone. Joanna studied hers with determined concentration, far too aware of the man sitting across the table from her.
The table was so small that she knew if she stretched her legs out just a little bit, she would encounter the long, lanky length of his. She consciously kept her arms bent, the menu close to her chest, not wanting their hands to accidentally touch, or her arms to inadvertently brush his.
“If you wind yourself up any tighter, you might just disappear altogether.”
She looked up to meet his teasing gray eyes. She relaxed her arms slightly and sighed. “It’s…it’s just been a long day.”
“Any day I get to spend airborne is a terrific day.”
She closed her menu, but kept it tight against her chest. “You love flying.” It was a statement rather than a question.
He didn’t get an opportunity to reply before the waiter appeared to take their orders. Joanna asked for a vegetable pita sandwich and a soft drink. Kyle ordered as if he hadn’t eaten for months, starting with a salad, a hot appetizer and an entré of lamb chops.
He finished by asking for a bottle of wine. When the waiter took their menus, Joanna felt naked without the large laminated book to hide behind.
Kyle grinned at her as the waiter departed. “Flying always makes me hungry. It’s like all of my senses go into overdrive. Food tastes better, scents smell better…” His gaze held hers intently. “Everything is more intense.”
There was a power in those slate eyes, they held an intimate knowledge coupled with a touch of arrogance. It was impossible for her to look into his eyes and not remember that he knew every inch of her naked skin, had kissed and caressed her more intimately than anyone ever had in her life.
The waiter reappeared with the wine. “Would you like a glass?” Kyle asked, and raised the bottle to pour.
“No, thank you. None for me.” Her head was dizzy enough without the additional effects of a glass of wine. Besides, even though the doctor had told her an occasional glass of wine was all right, she wasn’t taking any chances with the baby.
“Would you prefer a mixed drink? A Tom Collins?”
It surprised her that he remembered what she’d been drinking the night they had met. “No thanks, I’m fine.” She took a sip of her water and watched as he poured himself a glass of the wine.
He had nice hands—large and oddly graceful despite their masculinity. “So, you’ve always enjoyed flying?” She desperately grappled for a neutral topic of conversation.
He nodded. “Always. When I was a young boy, everything about flying and planes fascinated me. I had a collection of model airplanes that hung from my ceiling no matter where we were stationed. If I’d had my way, I’d have joined the navy and become a pilot when I was seventeen, but my father refused to sign for me.”
“Why? Was it because he thought you were too young?”
Kyle paused a moment to take a sip of his wine. “No. He wanted me to go to college, get a business degree and take over the reins of Ramsey Enterprises. So I went to college, got my degree, then joined the navy anyway.”
Although his words came easily and without emotion, there was a new tension in his body that let her know this had been a source of great conflict between father and son.
“And you’ve never regretted your decision? Never wished you’d gone to work for Ramsey Enterprises?” she asked.
“Never. In fact, in less than a month my current tour of duty is over and I have every intention of reenlisting. Unlike my father, I have no desire to dabble in corporate America. I’m a career military man.”
A career military man. Just as her father had been. Kyle’s life would follow the same path as her father’s had taken. He’d leave at a moment’s notice, drop everything to fight wars in distant lands. And, like her father, his wars would be more important than his family.
His proud words merely confirmed to her what she had instinctively known after that single night with him—that there would never, ever be a future for the two of them. She had been absolutely right to sneak out and leave him sleeping in that hotel room.
Again the waiter interrupted their conversation, this time to deliver their meals. When he had once again left their table, Kyle leaned forward, his metal-flecked eyes gleaming with more than a touch of wickedness. “Was it because I snored?”
“I’m sorry, Eagle One, you’re breaking up and I can’t understand you.”
He leaned back in his chair and laughed. Goodness, but she loved the sound of his laughter. His gaze lingered on her face, then swept slowly down, warming her breasts before returning to her face once again. “You are a piece of work, lady. You definitely intrigue me.”
She forced an easy smile. “I think you wouldn’t be half so intrigued if you awakened that morning and I’d been there asking you when I’d hear from you again, if you were going to call me, when we could get together.” She leaned forward and met his gaze boldly. “I think you’re intrigued simply because I ran out on you before you could run out on me.”
Surprise lit his features, then he grinned once again, that lazy, sexy smile that shot heat through her. “Then we’ll just have to see to it that the next time, neither of us runs.”
“There is never going to be a next time,” she replied.
His grin didn’t waver, but his gaze once again swept the length of her. Hot…and intimate. She felt each and every place his gaze lingered. “Don’t be so sure about that.” He picked up his fork and focused his attention on his food.
Joanna picked up her soda and took a long drink, as if by drinking the cold liquid she could quell the fires he’d set burning inside her. There had been no threat in his words, but rather promise…the promise of being held in his arms once again, the promise of feeling his body intimately against her own.
She’d been worried about the fact that she was so acutely aware of him, but she suddenly realized that wasn’t what she should be worried about.
The danger he posed to her wasn’t so much due to the fact that he was an attractive, virile man, but rather that he made her so vividly aware of herself as a woman…a desirable woman.
All the men at the embassy looked at her as if she was asexual. They knew she was bright, that she could get the job done, that she was efficient and committed, but none of them seemed to see her as a young woman with dreams and needs. She was a machine as far as her co-workers were concerned, and there were times when she longed to be recognized simply as a woman.
Kyle was dangerous because he made her feel utterly feminine, winsomely beautiful and achingly desirable. He was dangerous to her because even though she was certain she did not want him in her life, there was a small part of her that wouldn’t mind having him in her bed one last time.

Kyle was stimulated, both by his hours in the fighter plane and by the woman who sat across from him daintily eating her sandwich.
That she was intelligent was a given. She wouldn’t be working in the embassy as a military attaché if she weren’t extremely bright.
She was also beautiful, with a slender body that was both sexy and feminine. But it wasn’t just her physical appeal that intrigued him, although he had to admit he was strongly attracted to her.
He was also drawn to her wit and surprised at how easily and astutely she’d seen into his thoughts and musings about the night they’d spent together.
And he wondered how right she was. If he’d been the one to disappear that morning, would he be as intrigued with her?
“You mentioned earlier that your mother was from Montebello. Do you still have family here?” he asked as they continued to eat.
She nodded. “A grandmother and an aunt and her children. That’s what brought me back to Montebello when my father passed away. I wanted to be near what was left of my family.” Joanna frowned, a trace of something he thought might be sadness darkening her eyes. Perhaps he was not the only one burdened by family conflicts.
“Where were you living before that?” he asked, wanting to change the subject, remove the shadows from her lovely eyes.
“Washington, D.C. I was working as an assistant to Senator Bolin.”
“Quite a different pace here on Montebello than in Washington,” Kyle observed.
She nodded, her hair a shiny waterfall escaping the plain brown barrette at the nape of her neck. His fingers itched to release the clasp, allow all the strands to fall free. “But I have to say, the pace here has changed. Tensions are much higher now, especially since the recent bombing.”
“Yeah, I heard about the bomb, but haven’t heard all the details.” Kyle frowned, the loveliness of her hair momentarily forgotten.
“It was about a month ago. The bomb exploded in a civilian square. It completely destroyed a restaurant and trapped people inside the rubble. People died in the blast.” Once again her eyes were dark and troubled.
“I read in one of the newspapers that nobody has been found responsible yet for the bombing.”
She shook her head. “That’s true, however King Marcus is certain that Sheik Ahmed is responsible for the bomb. Sheik Ahmed, of course, denies any involvement, but the whole thing has made tensions so much higher. And it has made the people of Montebello afraid.”
“There is nothing more frightening than the threat of a bomb.”
“Bombs are so indiscriminate in taking victims,” she replied. She looked down at her half-eaten sandwich, as if she’d lost her appetite because of the seriousness of their discussion.
“We got a little heavy here, didn’t we,” he said, wanting to see her smile again. She had a smile that warmed him to the pit of his stomach. “How about you tell me what you like to do in your spare time.”
She shrugged and used her fork to toy with the last bit of her sandwich. “I don’t get a lot of spare time. I work pretty long hours, and lately often six or seven days a week. But when I do get a little spare time, I enjoy going to the beach. I like to read and do crossword puzzles and I enjoy watching old movies.” Her sensual lips moved into a wry smile. “I lead a very boring, quiet life, Kyle.”
“Unless you’re dancing in a bar after having indulged in several Tom Collinses,” he teased.
He loved watching her blush, and she didn’t disappoint him. Red stains appeared on her cheeks. “I told you, that night was completely out of character for me. That was the first time I’d been in that club and in that hotel.”
“So, what exactly made you act so out of character that night?” Although he kept his tone light and teasing, he genuinely wanted to know the answer.
She looked down at her plate, a thoughtful frown creasing her forehead. When she looked back up at him, the frown was gone. “Let’s just say I’d had an unusually rough day and decided to kick up my heels a little.”
He had a feeling it was much more than that, that there were a hundred things she was not confiding to him, and his interest in her only increased.
For the first time that he could ever remember he was as eager to get into a woman’s head as he was to get her into his bed. And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure of the odds of accomplishing either.

Chapter 4
The ringing telephone startled Kyle from a deep sleep. He shot up in the bed and quickly grabbed the nearby receiver, adrenaline pumping. His first impulse was to expect trouble. Had a plane encountered problems? Had Tamir made a move? Had one of his men gone down?
“Yes?” he barked into the phone.
“Kyle? Darling, is that you?”
The adrenaline drained out of him and he flopped back on the bed at the sound of his mother’s familiar voice. “Yeah, Mom, it’s me.”
“Oh dear, I woke you, didn’t I? I’m sorry. It’s almost bedtime here so it must be just after noon there. I assumed you’d either be at work or awake.”
“I’ve got a crazy schedule at the moment. I’m working all hours of the day and night.” Kyle looked at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was just after one. He wasn’t due at the base until eleven that night. “What’s up?”
“Does something have to be up for me to want to hear my eldest son’s voice?”
Kyle smiled as a vision of his mother filled his mind. Beatrice Ramsey had always been a stay-at-home mom. She’d raised her three sons with discipline, love and a sense of humor. There was no woman on earth Kyle loved and respected more than his mother. “It’s good to hear your voice, too, Mom.”
“Are you taking care of yourself? Eating proper meals and getting your rest?”
His smile widened. Even though he was thirty-one years old, his mother still worried about him as if he were ten. “Don’t worry. I’m taking good care of myself.”
“If you had a wife, I wouldn’t worry so much about you.”
“Don’t start,” Kyle exclaimed, unwilling to be a recipient of one of his mother’s frequent lectures on the joys of marriage. Something must have happened recently for her to even begin one of her lectures.
“Sandy Dennison just had her third grandbaby yesterday,” Beatrice continued. Bingo, Kyle thought. The incident that had prompted this phone call extolling the pleasures of married life. “Three grandbabies, and her son is two years younger than you.”
“Mom, you know that isn’t what I want for myself,” he chided softly. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t had this conversation before.
Beatrice sighed, the long-suffering sigh Kyle suspected every mother in the world had down to perfection. “I can hope, can’t I?”
“You’d do better to aim your hopes toward Jake and Tyler. The odds of them giving you a daughter-in-law and a grandchild are much better than me.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you boys that none of you has found a wonderful, loving woman yet. I’ll probably be in my grave before one of you finally gives me a grandbaby to love and to spoil.”
Kyle wisely didn’t reply.
“Well, dear, your father wants to talk with you. I’ll put him on.”
Instantly, tension filled Kyle. Conversations with his father were difficult for him, especially lately. There was a tiny part of Kyle that believed he was a major disappointment to his dad, that Edward Ramsey had never really forgiven him for his decision not to work for Ramsey Enterprises.
“Kyle.” His father’s deep voice boomed across the line.
“Hi, Dad.” Kyle swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. For some reason he felt as if he needed to be on his feet to speak to his father.
“How are things in Montebello?”
“Fine. Everything is just fine.”
“I heard you tell your mother you’re working a lot. Anything interesting going on?”
Kyle heard the unspoken questions in his father’s voice. The old man wanted to know what sort of mission Kyle was on, but Edward had lost his right to know about military missions when he’d turned his back on the armed forces and joined the race for bucks.
“Just the same old, same old,” Kyle replied.
There was a moment of silence between father and son, a weighty silence that raised Kyle’s tension several notches. “Kyle, I have a favor to ask you,” his father finally said.
“What kind of a favor?”
“I know your tour is up in a couple of weeks, and before you do anything about that, I’d like to have an opportunity to sit down face-to-face and talk to you.”
“About what? Dad, we’ve been through this a million times,” Kyle began. The last thing he wanted was a sit-down discussion with his father that would only make Kyle feel guilty about the path he’d chosen in his life.
“Kyle, please. I’m just asking you to hold off making any decisions until we can talk. I should be able to get to Montebello in the next week or so. All I’m asking is that you wait until after that to reenlist.”
“All right, I can do that,” Kyle replied, already dreading the conversation they would eventually have and certain that it would be nothing but a rehash of their collision of dreams.
After saying goodbye to his father moments later, Kyle paced the living room restlessly. He didn’t have to be back at the base till late that night and he’d planned on sleeping most of the day. However, the conversation with his dad had chased any sleepiness away.
He wandered over to the bookcase and stared at the various photos that lined the shelves. There was several of his father in his Air Force uniform.
When Kyle was growing up, his father had been his hero. Edward Ramsey had been doing what Kyle wanted to do, dreamed of doing—flying planes. And for much of his childhood, Kyle hoped to grow up to be just like his father.
Then, when Kyle was fourteen, his father had quit the military and sold out. He’d traded his country’s uniform for a business suit, and exchanged jet engines for power lunches. It had been at that moment that Kyle and his relationship had undergone a drastic change.
For years Kyle had heard his dad talk about the honor and duty of serving his country. Then, in what felt to Kyle to be a split-second decision, Edward Ramsey had been seduced by the corporate world.
To say that Edward Ramsey had been successful was an understatement. Not only did the Ramsey family have oil interests all over the world, but Ramsey Enterprises was a multimillion-dollar industry. His father had taken his contacts and the friendships he’d developed while serving his country and turned them to personal profit.
Kyle knew what his dad wanted to discuss with him. He wanted to plead one more time for Kyle to turn his back on his military career and go into the family business. It was to be a rehash of the same argument they’d been having for years.
Kyle made himself a late lunch, then napped on the sofa, but by nine that evening he thought he might go mad if he had to spend another minute in the confines of the family apartment. He’d showered and done a load of laundry, and could find nothing else to do to waste time. On impulse he picked up the phone and dialed Joanna’s residence.
In the four days they had been working together, he hadn’t called her at home, although he’d thought about it more than once.

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