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The Reunion Mission
Beth Cornelison
Though it’s been five years since Black Ops agent Daniel last saw Nicole, his desire for her burns as strong as ever.But he’s got to stay focused on his mission – rescue Nicole and an innocent child from a Colombian prison camp. Yet, sharing such close quarters, Nicole and Daniel must confront the past – and a passion that won’t be denied.



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“I need to know … you remember. Tell me … you remember.”
The Cajun’s dark eyes were wild with agony, and his face contorted in misery. She hated seeing him suffer.
“Nicole,” he repeated, and held a hand out, summoning her to come closer.
At that moment, the morning sun broke over the tops of the trees and shone through the open side door of the helicopter, casting his rugged face in sharp relief. For the first time, she could truly see the man who’d risked his life for her. Her heart clenched, and the prickle of déjà vu returned. He seemed so familiar …
“I … need—” He stopped, clenching his teeth and growling in torment. “Please … I need to know … you remember.”
“I remember,” she lied, leaning closer to be sure he heard her.
“Then say my name, Nicole.”
And in a heartbeat, an echo from her past yanked her back five years to a hotel room in New Orleans. Her heart wrenched, and tears spilled from her eyes.
“Oh, my God!” She curled her fingers into the hair at his nape and buried her face in his neck. “Daniel …”
Dear Reader,
As I was writing Soldier’s Pregnancy Protocol, I found myself more and more fascinated by Alec’s missing partner, Daniel LeCroix. What had happened to him? I asked myself. Just who was this mysterious Cajun? Even though he was not “on screen” most of the book, I felt his presence throughout writing the book. Secondary characters sometimes take over, demanding their own story be told. By the time I finished Alec’s book, Daniel’s history with Senator White’s daughter was already playing out in my head.
I was thrilled to have the chance to write Daniel and Nicole’s story … so much so that the opening chapters of The Reunion Mission almost wrote themselves. This is a true story of my heart, even though I shook my head at times wondering what I’d done to myself by having characters who needed to speak not just Spanish, but Colombian Spanish, and not just French, but Cajun French. (Yes, there is a big difference!) I hope you enjoy Daniel and Nicole’s story as much as I enjoyed telling it …
Oh, and keep an eye out for book three in the BLACK OPS RESCUES series. I hope to have Jake’s story ready soon! As always, more information about all my books is available on my website, www.bethcornelison.com.
Happy reading,
Beth Cornelison

About the Author
BETH CORNELISON started writing stories as a child when she penned a tale about the adventures of her cat, Ajax. A Georgia native, she received her bachelor’s degree in public relations from the University of Georgia. After working in public relations for a little more than a year, she moved with her husband to Louisiana, where she decided to pursue her love of writing fiction.
Since that first time, Beth has written many more stories of adventure and romantic suspense and has won numerous honors for her work, including a coveted Golden Heart Award in romantic suspense from Romance Writers of America. She is active on the board of directors for the North Louisiana Storytellers and Authors of Romance (NOLA STARS) and loves reading, traveling, Peanuts’ Snoopy and spending downtime with her family.
She writes from her home in Louisiana, where she lives with her husband, one son and two cats who think they are people. Beth loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at PO Box 5418, Bossier City, LA 71171, USA or visit her website, www.bethcornelison.com.

The Reunion
Mission

Beth Cornelison


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Keyren Gerlach Burgess, who believed in me and
helped bring Alec, Daniel and Jake to life.
Thank you to fellow Mills & Boon
Intrigue author Gail Barrett and her friend, Margarita Unger, for their help with Colombian Spanish translations.
Thank you also to Jennifer Malone and her father,
Monte Bonin, for their help with Cajun French, as well
as answering questions about Cajun culture.
Thank you to Sara Beth Salyer for sharing her name
(as the winning bidder in the Brenda Novak Diabetes
Auction for a Cure) and allowing me the honor
of paying homage to her beloved kitty, Oreo, as
characters in The Reunion Mission.

Chapter 1
“Left perimeter clear.” Shifting his night vision goggles, Daniel LeCroix peered through the inky blankness of the Colombian jungle, his body humming and ready for action. He focused on the large tent at the far end of the rebel encampment. No sign of the soldiers who slept in the canvas shelter. Lowering the night vision goggles, he cast a glance to his partner, who monitored the camp through an infrared imaging camera. “What do you have?”
Months of preparation had led to this moment. With their objective moments from fruition, he’d be damned if he’d let anything screw up their mission now.
“No movement,” Alec Kincaid confirmed. “Looks like the guards watching the ammo are the only ones awake.” Alec stowed the infrared imager in his pack and slid his NVGs into place. “Ready to move?”
Adrenaline spiked in Daniel’s blood, readying him for battle. “Hell, yeah. Let’s go.”
Silently, he and Alec dropped from the tree where they’d been perched for hours, watching the faction of rebel soldiers who held several captives in the remote camp. Only one of the prisoners interested Daniel.
Nicole White. A U.S. senator’s daughter kidnapped from the medical mission where she was working and held as a political pawn.
Freeing her and returning her safely to the United States was their sole objective tonight.
Leading with his sidearm, Daniel crept down the steep, vegetation-dense hillside to the clearing in the narrow Colombian valley where Nicole had been held for close to thirteen months.
Would she recognize him, remember him?
Daniel shoved down the jangle of anticipation that skittered through him when he thought of seeing Nicole again. Touching her. He had to stay focused on his job if they were to get out of that jungle alive.
When they reached the crude wire fence at the edge of the camp, Alec pulled a pair of wire cutters from his pack and quickly created a hole large enough for them to crawl through on their bellies. Daniel wiggled through first, then Alec. Using hand signals, Daniel directed Alec to the right. Daniel walked backward, following Alec and guarding their six. Keeping to the shadows, they made their way toward the back of the camp where Nicole was being held.
As they rounded the tent where they’d determined supplies were kept, Alec stopped abruptly. He pointed to the guard stationed at the entrance of the supply tent.
I’ve got this one, Alec signaled, then soundlessly dispatched the man before the guard even knew he had company.
Behind them, a squeak drew Daniel’s attention. The door to the ramshackle latrine by the perimeter fence opened, and a soldier stepped out, shining a flashlight toward the camp. When the beam passed over Alec, Daniel tensed. Just as the man swung the light back and opened his mouth to shout a warning to the camp, Daniel fired a single head shot, and the soldier crumpled. Despite the silencer muffling the gun’s noise, Daniel knew someone could have heard the telltale pop. They had to hurry.
By unspoken agreement, Alec set a faster pace toward the fenced area where Nicole was being held. Farther down, they encountered two more guards, playing a game with dice as they monitored the cache of arms stacked in crates under a tarp. Skulking through the night like panthers, Alec and Daniel snuck up on the duo and took them out, as well.
All clear.
With Alec keeping watch, Daniel hurried to the fenced area where the rebels held their captives. The cages holding the prisoners were little more than dog pens, and two teepeed sheets of rotting plywood provided Nicole’s only protection from the elements. Rage flashed through Daniel seeing the squalid conditions in which Nicole had been forced to live. Gritting his teeth, he funneled his fury into cutting through the fencing of her cage, then crawled to the tented plywood where she slept.
She wasn’t alone. Daniel frowned but dismissed the small form huddled beside her. His mandate was clear. Nicole was his only objective.
Shifting his attention, Daniel held his breath as he caught his first up-close glimpse of Nicole in five years. Her long slender legs and feet were bare. Dirty cargo shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt hugged her womanly curves, and the fetal position in which she slept heightened his sense of her vulnerability. Her arms pillowed her head, and her tangled blond hair spilled over her cheek. Even disheveled and grimy, she was still every bit as beautiful as he remembered.
Daniel’s heart performed a tuck and roll, and he allowed himself the briefest moment just to look at her and thank God she appeared unharmed. But even a few seconds of delay were an indulgence, and he steeled himself for the task ahead. It was go time.
Five years earlier
Daniel stood at attention, watching the parade of national and state dignitaries dressed in their best black-tie finery make their way into the governor’s Mardi Gras ball. His buddies at the New Orleans Naval Air Station thought he was crazy for volunteering to work security for the ball. But when he’d heard that Louisiana Senator Alan White would be attending, he’d known he couldn’t be anywhere else that night.
Daniel had prepped his Navy dress whites for the event, counting on the other rumor he’d heard to be true—since his wife’s death last year, Senator White had brought his daughter, Nicole, as his companion to public events such as this.
Even as he conjured a memory of the last time he’d seen Nicole, a limo flying American flags from the antennae pulled up to the front drive of the antebellum mansion where the ball was underway. Daniel held his breath as Senator White emerged from the backseat, then turned to offer his hand to someone inside the limo. A chill filled the air that February evening, but the weather had nothing to do with the tremor that rolled through Daniel as a graceful young blonde woman stepped out onto the driveway. An ice-blue chiffon gown hugged her curves, and she molded her mouth into a stiff smile as she started toward the stairs on the senator’s arm. Jeweled combs winked in the porch lights and held her long hair swept up in a twist, exposing the slim column of her neck.
Daniel tracked her progress with his gaze as she approached, his mouth dry and his gut in knots. With her hand tucked in the crook of her father’s arm, Nicole cast a surveying glance to the other partygoers, issuing perfunctory greetings. The politician’s daughter, groomed in social graces and good public relations. American nobility, so far out of his league Daniel had to squelch the urge to laugh in bitter irony at the lengths he’d gone to tonight just for a chance to see her again. His studious gaze caught her attention, and Daniel flashed her a lopsided grin. “Hello, Nicole.”
Her steps faltered, and a look of confusion dented her brow. “Do I—?”
Daniel blew out a deep breath. He’d been crazy to think she’d remember him after so many years.
But then her face brightened, and she pulled her arm free of her father’s to step closer to Daniel. “Boudreaux!”
His heart kicked up a zydeco beat as she seized his hand and squeezed his fingers. “Boudreaux? Is that you?”
He grimaced mentally. As much as he’d wanted her to remember him, her use of the derogatory nickname her friends had given him didn’t bode well for what she remembered about him. He tugged his mouth into an awkward smile. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Delight lit her eyes and brightened her grin, and hope stirred in his chest.
“Oh, my God! Look at you!” She canted forward, circling his shoulders with her arms and pressing a social kiss to his cheek.
Stunned by her hug, he was a beat too slow returning the embrace, and his brain snagged when the sweet floral scent of her hair hit him. His body’s reaction to her touch, her scent was immediate and carnal.
Still holding the sleeves of his dress whites jacket, she levered back and let her gaze take in the length of him. “I almost didn’t recognize you in this impressive attire.” She flashed a flirtatious grin and tugged at the breast of his jacket. “Good Lord, everything they say about a man in uniform is true!”
Daniel rallied his senses, determined not to come off as a flustered sap and to preserve the dignity his uniform required. “You look beautiful, too.”
Understatement. She was breathtaking. He’d thought so five years ago on her prom night, when he’d been his cousin’s date and met Nicole for the first time.
“Nicole!” Senator White had backtracked to fetch his wayward daughter, not quite managing to hide his irritation. “What’s going on?”
Had she been hugging the son of one of his golf buddies rather than a security guard, the senator wouldn’t have been nearly so piqued, Daniel wagered.
Nicole extended a hand to her father, waving him closer. “Daddy, I want you to meet someone. This is—” She hesitated, cutting an embarrassed look to Daniel.
“Daniel LeCroix,” he finished, offering his hand to the senator before she defaulted to the nickname that mocked his bayou roots.
She twitched her lips in an apologetic grin. “Daniel. Of course! Forgive me. I’m just awful with names!”
Her father arched an eyebrow and heaved a sigh. “To my chagrin. She once called the chairman of armed services by his predecessor’s name.”
Folding Daniel’s free hand between her hands, she faced her father again. “Daniel is the boy who brought me home from prom my junior year.” When her father’s expression remained blank, she added pointedly, “He’s the one who rescued Boudreaux from the storm drain for me!”
Adrenaline kicked Daniel’s pulse, and he jerked a startled glance toward her. Boudreaux? She’d named the kitten—?
Nicole met his questioning look with a secret smile. “What else would I name him?”
“Ah, yes. Your cat. I remember now. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Daniel.” The senator offered Nicole his arm, and his raised eyebrows, warning her it was time to go inside. “Nicole, this young man has a job to do, and our hosts are waiting.”
Facing Daniel, she squeezed his hand and gave him a lopsided smile of regret. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Daniel.”
He returned a polite smile. Don’t leave. “You, too, Nicole.” Then to the senator, “Sir.”
The senator met his gaze with a hard look that darted to Daniel’s rank insignia on his uniform. “Lieutenant.”
The senator’s tone carried a warning, a reminder of Daniel’s place and the social gap between a boy from the bayou and the senator’s well-bred daughter. As if Daniel needed reminding. Though he was proud of his Cajun roots, he was always striving to be better than the next guy—at basic training, in the classroom, in operations—trying to prove his detractors wrong, silencing those who singled him out or who bought into erroneous stereotypes regarding his heritage.
Nicole squeezed his hand before she released it and flashed a rueful smile as her father grasped her elbow and led her inside.
With a cleansing breath, he resumed his watch, shoulders back and hands clasped behind him. Though he stood at rigid attention, his mind writhed with a tangle of emotions.
He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do tonight. He’d seen Nicole again. But, in light of the tumult inside him, coming tonight might have been a mistake.
Nicole needed air. Shoving her way through the crowded dance floor, she hurried to the front porch and gripped the railing as another shudder of disgust rippled through her. All evening she’d put up with the leering glances her father not to notice, but when the president of the Chamber of Commerce squeezed her bottom on the dance floor, she’d had enough. She’d bet her father’s fortune that his “friends” never treated her mother with such disrespect.
Thoughts of her mother, stolen from her by cancer just four months ago, brought moisture to Nicole’s eyes. She cast a longing gaze toward the parked cars, wishing she didn’t have to endure the party any longer, and she spotted the white dress uniform and broad shoulders that had sent her pulse racing earlier that evening.
A smile ghosted across her lips. Daniel LeCroix. She wasn’t surprised he’d joined the armed forces. Even in her brief association with him on prom night five years ago, she’d seen his valor, his kindness, his integrity. When her date hadn’t deigned to get his hands dirty to retrieve the stranded kitten, when her friends had all abandoned her for “wasting time” on the rescue, only Daniel had stayed behind to help her instead of going to the dance. Daniel had ruined his rented tux moving the sewer grate and climbing into the drainage pipes, then had walked her and her new pet home. And left an indelible mark on her heart.
Nicole couldn’t help but wonder how different tonight would have been if he’d been her escort instead of her father.
The night’s not over. Her breath stilled. Ditching her father in favor of Daniel would be waving a red flag in her father’s face. He’d never forgive her for the snub and the damage to his well-crafted public image.
But had her father respected her feelings when she’d complained about his friends’ untoward advances? A flash of anger spiraled through her. How long was she supposed to put her life on hold to be her father’s PR darling? She was already a year behind her class in nursing school because of his last election campaign and months of filling her mother’s shoes as his companion at high-profile events and parties. As as she loved her father, she just didn’t want the high-society lifestyle he thrived on.
Inside, the orchestra began playing the ballad from a popular Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, and Nicole sighed. Fixing her gaze on Daniel, she crossed the porch and approached him. “Dance with me?”
He cut a startled glance her direction. “Nicole.” His gaze shifted behind her, obviously noting that she was alone. “Why aren’t you inside?”
“I needed a breather. Too much hot air in there.” She twitched a grin and hitched her head toward the party. Stepping closer to him, she held out her hand. “So will you dance with me? This is one of my favorite songs.”
His gaze locked on hers, his regret obvious. “I can’t. I’m on duty.”
She moved close enough to slide her hand along the polished buttons of his dress whites. She could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers, and the life-affirming cadence struck her as powerfully virile and maddeningly sexy. “Just one dance. No one will know or care if you just danced this one song with me.” She slid her arms around his neck and twined her fingers in the close-cropped hair at his nape. “Please.”
His mental battle played across his face, the tug-of-war between duty and desire. “Nicole …” Closing his eyes, he settled a hand at her waist and halfheartedly tried to push her away.
Suddenly the idea of losing this opportunity to dance with Daniel, because of the rules of his job, or her father’s code of conduct, or any other stuffy social convention or arbitrary legal dictate, made her want to scream. She fisted her hand in the back of his dress coat and refused to be budged. Tears of frustration and rebellion puddled in her eyes, and she raised her chin to meet his gaze.
“Screw the rules, Daniel. I want to dance with you.”
His dark eyes narrowed on her, and hands that had pushed her away now touched the bare skin exposed by the low cut in the back of her dress. The warmth of his fingers against her night-chilled skin spun a delicious tingle from her head to her toes. A groan rumbled in his throat as he flattened his palm at the small of her back and drew her close.
A tremor of anticipation spun through her when she aligned her body with his. The stiff creases of his uniform and the sensual play of his muscles tantalized her through her sheer dress. Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she melted in his arms, moving with him when he swayed and shifted his feet in a slow dance. The tension that had pounded at her temples slipped away as he held her, and Nicole could almost pretend they were alone, the only two people in this corner of the world.
Daniel skimmed a hand up her spine, sending sparks of shimmery heat through her blood. When he reached her nape, his thumb caressed her sensitized skin with lazy, hypnotic strokes.
“You know,” he murmured, his deep voice a low, sexy rumble, “I always kind of regretted that we didn’t make it to prom that night. I’d been hoping I’d have the chance to dance with you.”
She smiled and curled her fingers in the fabric of his dress coat. “Then this dance was long overdue.”
He drew a slow deep breath, then let it out on a hum of pleasure. “And worth the wait.”
“Agreed.” She snuggled closer, inhaling the crisp scent of soap that clung to him. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. But all too soon the ballad ended and a faster song began. Daniel stopped dancing, but he didn’t step back right away. He didn’t have to tell her he was thinking about his guard duty, the rules he’d already broken for her.
Nicole mentally scrambled for a way to extend the precious minutes she’d had in his arms. She wasn’t ready to say good-night to the thoughtful Daniel she’d gotten to know on her prom night, the honorable soldier concerned tonight for his duty, the sexy man whose touch made her feel thoroughly feminine and on fire.
“I should—”
“Be my date tonight,” she interrupted. Lifting her head, she met his dark gaze and gripped his arms to keep him from moving away. Hoping she sounded enticing and impulsive rather than desperate, she flashed a grin. “Come inside with me, and we can spend the rest of the night dancing.”
His expression dimmed. “I can’t leave my post. Not until my replacement arrives at midnight.”
Hope swelled in her chest. “What if someone else covered your post until then? Robert, our chauffeur, is trained in security and often works protection detail for my father.” She reached in his front coat pocket, pulled out the cell phone she’d felt there while they danced and dialed.
Daniel opened his mouth to argue, but she turned a shoulder as Robert came on the line. Within minutes, a scowling and skeptical Robert was in place at the front steps, and Daniel had no more excuses not to join her inside.
A giddy sense of victory swirled through her when Daniel finally relented and followed her up the porch stairs. Her triumph was all the sweeter when she thought of the buffer Daniel would provide between her and her father’s tedious friends.
Daniel offered her his arm as they crossed the porch. “Is this going to cause a problem with your father?”
Nicole hiked up her chin, remembering the blind eye her father turned to his business associates’ behavior toward her. “Maybe. But I don’t care. It will teach him a lesson.”
Daniel frowned as they stepped into the foyer. “I don’t want to get in the middle of some family thing.…”
“Don’t worry.” She tugged his arm, pulling him into the ballrom, where the volume of music and voices made conversation difficult. “I’ve got this.”
Daniel could feel Senator White’s dark glare following him as Nicole led him out onto the dance floor. When she’d explained why Daniel was at her side, the senator had clearly been unhappy with her stunt, and something in Nicole’s manner had rankled Daniel, as well. But once he had Nicole in his arms again, the senator faded from his thoughts. With Nicole pressed against his body, his hands on the silky skin of her back, the delicate scent of her surrounding him, he forgot anything beyond that moment, this woman. And the fire that consumed him.
When she threaded her fingers through his short cropped hair or angled her head to flash him a smile with equal parts of sweetness and seduction, his blood ran hot, and his need wound tighter. Months of anticipation and longing coiled inside him.
He’d spent the past five years thinking about Nicole and regretting the chance he’d let slip through his fingers the night he’d walked her home with her new kitten. His sense of honor and propriety, along with a belief that she was out of his reach, had lulled him into inaction when she was sixteen. Since that night, he’d sworn never to miss another opportunity, in any form, when it knocked. For a kid from the bayou, life didn’t offer many lucky breaks or second chances.
As they moved together, she chatted amiably, filling him in on her years in nursing school, her mother’s illness and recent death, her dream of working overseas in one of the many poor communities where health care was so desperately needed. She quizzed him on his career plans with the Navy, his last tour in the Persian Gulf, his specialty in weapons and explosives.
“Why weapons?” she asked with a frown.
He shrugged. “Because … I’m a guy, and guys like guns and things that go boom.”
Her frown turned to a scowling pout, and he was slammed with the urge to kiss her plump raspberry lips. He swallowed hard and determinedly refocused his thoughts. “Because …” he said, schooling his face. “It was where I was needed. It’s what I’m good at.”
Her smile warmed. “I bet you’re good at a lot of things.”
He grunted in acknowledgment and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Better at some things than others.”
Her pale blue gaze heated, and she canted closer, tracing his ear with her finger. “Do tell.”
Lust sent a scalding jolt through him, and as his desire-crazed brain scrambled, weighing discretion against temptation, a firm hand clapped him on the shoulder.
“I’m cutting in,” her father said, effectively dousing the flames licking Daniel’s veins.
Nicole stiffened. “Actually, I’d rather not.” She pulled away from her father’s grip and gave Daniel a confident smile. “Daniel was just about to take me home. These shoes are killing me, and my headache from earlier is back.”
“Nonsense.” The senator took her elbow and guided his daughter off the dance floor. “If you’re ready to go home, I can leave now, or have Robert drive you back to the hotel.”
“No, Dad, I—” Nicole turned, met Daniel’s gaze with a silent plea in her eyes.
Firming his jaw, Daniel wedged through the crowd and cut the senator off at the edge of the dance floor. “The hotel is on my way, sir. It would be my pleasure to take Nicole home.”
Nicole beamed, freeing her arm from her father’s grasp. “I’ll be fine. Good night, Dad.”
Daniel seized the chance to pull Nicole toward the front door. He could feel her father’s glare burning holes in his back as he escorted Nicole outside and toward the parked cars.
She looped her arm in his and leaned into him as they crossed the grassy lawn. “Thank you. If I’d had to dance with my left-footed father or one of his ass-grabbing friends again tonight, I think I’d—”
Daniel stopped short. “Ass-grabbing?”
She snorted derisively. “Oh, yeah. Right before I came out and found you, the sleazeball from the Chamber of Commerce copped himself a feel.”
He tensed and fisted his hands, feeling the thrum of anger pounding at his temples. Performing a stiff about-face, he stalked back toward the mansion. “Show him to me.”
Nicole slipped off her high heels and jogged to catch up to him. “Why? So you can defend my honor by punching him in the dentures?” She blocked his path, and when she met his gaze, her eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’m flattered by your chivalry, but save your energy.”
He sucked in a deep breath, struggling to calm his raging pulse. “It’s just … when I think of some creep with his hands on your—”
She laughed and ran her fingers up the front of his jacket. “You wish you’d thought of it?”
He scoffed and caught her hands in his, tugging her closer. “Believe me, cher. I thought about it plenty.”
She laced her fingers with his, her expression coy. “Then why didn’t you?” She tugged his hands behind her and planted them at the small of her back. “I think I’d like having your hands on me.”
The coil of lust inside him yanked tighter. With a groan, he slid his hands down the silky fabric of her dress to palm her bottom. He curled his fingers, testing the supple flesh beneath her dress and tugging her closer.
She sighed her pleasure, and when she tipped her head up, her eyes zeroing in on his mouth, he captured her lips with his. Moving one hand to cradle the base of her head, he held her in place while he explored the taste and texture of her kiss. She clutched at his back, returning his passion and meeting the thrust and parry of his tongue. A sound somewhere between a whimper and a purr rumbled in her throat, and the seductive mewl threw kindling on the fire already blazing in his blood. He wanted her so much he hurt.
“Nicole,” he rasped, barely recognizing his own voice, “let me take you home.”
“Only if you promise not to leave me at the door.” She nibbled her way down his jaw to his ear. “Last time, in high school, you left me … aching for you.” Nicole looped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest. “I’m still aching for you.”
He half moaned, half sighed. “The feeling is mutual.”
When he slipped his hands under her dress and filled his hands with her bare bottom, she gasped. “Daniel …”
He shifted his hand, delving a finger into the moist heat between her legs, before the slam of a car door reminded him they were in public. If not for her reputation, he’d take her there in the grassy lawn of the antebellum mansion. But he wouldn’t subject her to any scandal or scorn from her social set. Grasping her arms, he kissed her forehead and levered back. “Not here. Which hotel are you staying at?”
She gave him the name of a posh hotel on Canal Street, and as he led her to his truck, he stooped to pick up the shoes she’d kicked off earlier. They seemed ridiculously small to him—size 6—with dangerously spiked heels. “How do you walk in these?”
She grinned. “Very carefully.”
He smacked another kiss on her lips before closing her door and circling to the driver’s side. The thirty-minute drive to her hotel was torture. He fought the urge to pull to the side of the road and toss her in the backseat, or stop at one of the many lower-rent motels they passed. But Nicole White was not the kind of woman he could take to a second-rate motor inn. He would wait another half hour until they reached her hotel room. Even if his body was strung tighter than a guy wire.
If it killed him, he would wait. For Nicole.

Chapter 2
Present day—Colombia
Nicole woke with a start when a large hand clamped over her mouth and a low male voice growled in her ear, “Don’t make any noise.”
He gaze flew to the dark figure hovering over her, and panic flooded her brain. In the night shadows, she could tell little about her attacker, except that he was large, and strong, and dark featured. When she squirmed, trying to find Tia, terrified this man could have harmed the little girl, the man’s hold on her tightened.
“It’s all right, Nicole. I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, his mouth so close to her that his lips brushed the shell of her ear and his warm breath fanned her neck. In the fog of her fear, it took her a moment to realize he’d used her name. And that he spoke English.
She snapped a startled gaze to his, straining to make out his face while her heart drummed an anxious beat against her ribs. No use. In the blackness of the jungle night, she couldn’t see anything distinguishing about his face.
“I’m an American operative. I’m here to take you home. Do you understand?”
Home. The word held such sweet promise, she couldn’t help the whimper of relief that squeaked from her throat.
Her attacker—no, her rescuer—loosened his grip on her mouth. “Promise to be quiet?”
She nodded, and tears of joy puddled in her eyes. She was going home. Finally. And Tia could get the medical attention she needed. Nicole’s heart soared, even though the prospect of escaping the camp filled her with a chilling fear.
As he removed his hand from her mouth, the man dragged his fingers along her chin, brushing her hair back from her face and wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. The intimate gesture startled her, and the first uneasy whispers that something was off tickled her nape. He hovered, scant inches above her, and she searched his face, wishing desperately she could see him better in the darkness. Then, with a troubled-sounding sigh, he dipped his head.
And kissed her.
Nicole’s breath caught, and her pulse scampered on a fresh wave of panic. Had he lied about his intentions? When her initial, paralyzing shock passed, she gained the frame of mind to resist. But hesitated.
His lips were gentle. The tender caress of his mouth surprised her, intrigued her. Filled her with a sweet warmth. Her body responded to his kiss as if she’d known him her whole life … and yet the edgy prickle at her neck bit harder.
A groan rumbled from his chest, and he broke the kiss to sit back on his heels, muttering a curse under his breath. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Damn right, you shouldn’t have! Who are you?” she whispered fiercely.
He tensed and angled a hooded glance toward her. “Your ticket outta here. Get up.” His tone was gruff now, in contradiction to his soft kiss, and she shivered, despite the clammy heat of the jungle. “I brought shoes and socks for you. Size 6, right?”
“I—yes. How did you know?”
“It’s my job to know.” He slid a pack off his back and pulled out a pair of boots. “Can you walk? We have a difficult hike ahead of us.”
“I can, but Tia’s weak.” She glanced to the sleeping girl, whose age she estimated at eight years and who’d shared her cage for the past several months. She’d come to love Tia like a daughter, bonding with the terrified child as she protected her from the cruelty of their guards. “She’s had a fever and hasn’t eaten in days.”
Her rescuer followed her glance to Tia and shook his head. “Forget it. She’s not coming with us.” He shoved the boots at her. “Put these on. Hurry.”
Nicole’s chest tightened. “What? She has to come. She’ll die here if I leave her!” She shifted her gaze down the row of night-darkened cages. “And what about the others? There are twelve of us being held here!”
He clamped a hand over her mouth and growled in her ear. “Keep your voice down.” He grabbed the socks up and shoved one onto her foot. “Our objective is to get you out. Only you. We can’t take anyone else.”
She snatched her foot away. “Why? Because they’re not American?” Disdain filled her voice, but she didn’t care. “Their lives still matter. We can’t leave—”
“No. Only you. We only have provisions for you.” His tone brooked no resistance, and he tossed a boot into her lap. “Hurry up.”
“Then … take Tia instead of me. Please. She’s just a child. This is no place for an eight-year-old girl.”
He glanced at Tia again and jammed fingers through his short black hair. Hope fluttered in Nicole’s chest. Clearly the idea of leaving a little girl behind bothered him.
He released a ragged sigh and cupped a hand at the nape of Nicole’s neck. “Don’t do this. I have been planning this rescue for months. I’m here to take you home. You, Nicole.” He kept his voice low, but his tone vibrated with fury and frustration.
An odd sense of familiarity sketched down her spine. Something about his voice …
“I will not do anything that could jeopardize my objective. Got it?”
Nicole’s temper spiked. “Did I ask you to save me?”
She felt him tense, his fingers digging into her scalp. “Get your ass moving, or I’ll carry you out of here.”
A frisson of fear slithered through her. Indecision. Anguish. “I won’t leave her. If you don’t take her, I’m not going, either.” To prove her point, Nicole shoved the boot into his chest and let it drop.
Even with the night shadows, she couldn’t miss the lethal scowl he narrowed on her.
“Lafitte!” another male voice whispered just outside her plywood shelter. “What the hell’s the hold up? Haul ass!”
Her rescuer bit out another curse, in French this time, and pivoted to where Tia slept. Bending over her, he scooped the girl into his arms.
Relief and gratitude swept through Nicole and left her trembling.
When Tia woke and whimpered in fright, the man clapped a hand over her mouth … which only frightened Tia more.
Quickly Nicole scrambled over and stroked Tia’s arm, squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, mija. Es un amigo.” She tugged the man’s hand away from Tia’s mouth, then tapped her own finger to Tia’s lips. “Shh.”
Nicole didn’t miss the irony of hushing a girl who hadn’t spoken a word since arriving at the camp, traumatized and alone. Tia raised wide brown eyes so full of blind trust that Nicole’s heart twisted. She prayed trusting these men, attempting an escape with them, didn’t prove a deadly mistake.
When Tia quieted, Nicole jammed the boots on her feet and crawled out of her plywood lean-to in time to see her rescuer pass Tia off to the second man.
“What the hell?” the second man whispered harshly.
“Change of plans,” he grumbled under his breath, then stalked back to Nicole. “Ready?” He offered her a hand up, which she took. When he’d pulled her to her feet, he drew her close, and she grabbed one of his muscular arms while she found her balance. “We have to move fast. If you can’t run, I’ll carry you.”
Judging by the size of the arm she held and the width of his chest, she had no doubt he could carry her for miles. The notion started an odd tremble low in her belly. She shook her head. “No. I can run.”
“Good. Keep your head down, and do exactly as I say, when I say. Got it?” His tone and face were hard and unyielding.
She bristled a bit at his high-handedness but swallowed the sharp retort that came to mind. Under the circumstances, she’d forgive his bossiness. “Got it.”
He seized her hand and hauled her with him as he moved to the hole cut in the cage that had imprisoned her. The second man had already carried Tia out and was headed toward the perimeter fence. She scurried through the gap and glanced warily around the dark camp, her heart thundering.
Two shadowy dark figures lay unmoving in the dirt by the weapons cache, and a sick understanding crawled through her. Her rescuers had killed those men and who knew how many others in order to reach her. Bile rose in her throat, and she fought the urge to vomit.
As he rose to his feet, her rescuer shoved a cumbersome-looking pair of goggles on his head, then pulled a large handgun from the waist of his fatigues, reinforcing her recognition of his deadly skill. Her breath hung in her lungs. Apprehension shuddered through her.
Before she could reconcile this lethal soldier with the man who’d kissed her so sweetly and dried her tear moments earlier, he grabbed her arm and ran. She stumbled, trying to keep up with the pace he set, and gritting her teeth, she forced her exercise-deprived legs to move faster. She refused to slow him down, be a hindrance to their escape.
When they reached the hole cut in the perimeter fence, she had precious seconds to rest while the first man shimmied through the hole on his belly. As they coaxed Tia through the gap, Nicole gasped for breath, already winded. The pitch blackness of the jungle loomed beyond the fence that served not only to keep prisoners in, but also to keep wild animals out. Their escape route lay through that dense, wild terrain.
“Nicole.” Her rescuer waved her toward the hole in the fence. “Come on, cher.”
The endearment reverberated in her head as she dropped to her knees in preparation to crawl through the hole. She recognized the colloquial Cajun French term, pronounced sha, which she heard often in her home state. “You’re from Louisiana.”
He stilled for an instant, and she felt more than saw his gaze boring into hers. “Yes.” Before she could respond, he put a hand on her head and shoved her down. “Go!”
She did, with Cajun Man at her heels. Already the second man had disappeared into the thick foliage with Tia. Once through the fence, her rescuer dug in his pack and gave her a pair of goggles like the ones he and his partner wore. “Put these on.”
She obeyed, then marveled at the green images that leaped out of the blackness of the night. Night vision goggles. Of course. She studied him with her newly enhanced vision, but he, too, wore a pair of goggles that obscured her view of his face. The goggles only confirmed for her that he was dark-haired and broad-shouldered and had a heavy layer of stubble covering his cheeks and chin. She’d had little chance to familiarize herself with the goggles before he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the jungle.
Behind them, a voice shouted in the camp. A warning. An alert. Someone had discovered the dead guards or her empty cage.
Cajun Man’s hand tightened around hers. “Damn! Go, go, go!”
Through the overgrown jungle, she heard the rebel encampment waking, engines starting, angry shouts. He tugged her arm, urging her to go faster, and adrenaline fueled her feet.
Their escape path led them up the steep side of a mountain, and soon her muscles trembled from exertion. Nicole used her free hand to grab limbs and roots, anything she could use to help pull herself up the incline as he hauled her forward by the hand. She couldn’t quit, had to find the strength to press on. Letting the rebel soldiers catch her now would mean certain death.
Wide-leafed branches slapped at her legs, her face. Around her, the eyes of nocturnal animals glowed in her goggles, and she fought the fear that threatened to suffocate her. She had to keep moving, keep running. Keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Finally, they reached the top of the incline, and the terrain leveled out. Cajun Man never slowed their pace. The foliage thinned out in places making their progress easier. Many minutes later, when Nicole thought she might drop from exhaustion, he slowed at last and led her behind a wide tree trunk where his partner had stopped with Tia.
She gulped oxygen and collapsed on the ground beside the little girl. Tia crawled close and buried her head in Nicole’s chest.
“Where are we?” Cajun Man asked his friend, who’d pulled out a small gadget she couldn’t identify in the dark, even with her night vision goggles.
“Chopper’s still a couple miles north,” his partner answered.
Her heart beat so hard she could barely hear their discussion over the pounding pulse in her ears.
Turning, Cajun Man crouched in front of her and squeezed her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
She nodded, unable to find the breath to speak.
“And the kid?” He jerked his head toward Tia.
“Scared,” Nicole panted. “But … all right.”
The night vision goggles helped her make out general forms in an unnatural green glow, but the details of Cajun’s and his partner’s appearances were still a mystery. She shoved aside her frustration with not knowing what her rescuers looked like. What did it matter as long as they got her and Tia out of that jungle alive? It didn’t. Yet she couldn’t quash the eerie prickle of familiarity his voice evoked.
He handed her a flask from his pack. “Drink.”
She waved his offering away. “I’m okay.”
“Drink,” he repeated more forcefully, shoving the canteen into her hand. “I can’t have you passing out on me later when I need you to run.”
Capitulating, she uncapped the flask and tipped it up to her lips. She almost groaned in pleasure as a sweet fruity drink bathed her tongue. An energy drink. How long had it been since she’d had anything but foul water to drink?
Brushing Tia’s hair back from her eyes, Nicole gave the canteen to the girl and helped her take a sip. When the little girl tasted the sweet drink, she clutched the canteen tighter and tipped it higher for a bigger gulp.
“Hey!” Cajun snatched the container back. “That’s gotta last until we’re outta here. Those of us who are hoofing it get priority.”
Tia shrank away from him, huddling closer to Nicole with a whimper.
Nicole bit back a retort. She had to remember that this man had risked his life to save her and had brought Tia along against his better judgment and despite the limited provisions he’d made. She raised her chin and worked at keeping her voice nonconfrontational. “Could you please try not to scare her? She’s just a kid, and she’s already been through a nightmare.”
He paused in the act of stashing the canteen in his pack, cast a side-glance to Nicole and heaved an impatient sigh as he shoved to his feet. “Enough rest. Let’s move.” He faced his partner and gave a nod. “Alec?”
His partner stowed his own canteen and stepped forward to help Nicole to her feet. Cajun Man lifted Tia into his arms and led the way with Nicole following and his partner—Alec, he’d called him—bringing up the rear. Though they were no longer running, they moved at a fast clip, and Nicole had trouble keeping up. The distance between the Cajun and Nicole widened by the minute, until, maybe an hour later, Alec finally cupped his hands around his mouth and made a shrill noise, something between a bird call and monkey. Cajun Man stopped, setting Tia on the ground, and Alec grabbed Nicole’s arm to hustle her forward.
“This is taking too long,” Cajun Man said as they approached, clearly agitated. “You go on,” he said to Alec. “Take the girl and tell Jake to get the chopper ready. I’ll stay with her, and we’ll be there … whenever.” His tone was full of frustration.
“Roger that.” Without further discussion, Alec lifted Tia into his arms and disappeared into the jungle foliage. A ripple of apprehension shimmied through Nicole. Not that she didn’t trust the Cajun, but having her rescue team halved felt like a dangerous move.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She pressed a hand to the stitch in her side.
“Normally, no.” He paused, the silence taut with recriminations. “But under the circumstances—”
She grunted defensively. “I’m sorry I’m slowing you down. But all those months in a cage without exercise have left me out of shape.”
He faced her and cocked his head as he studied her. The jungle shadows and his night vision goggles made him look like a strange insect from a sci-fi flick. “I know that.”
His tone was softer now, almost apologetic, and she slumped at the base of a tree. Yanking off the cumbersome goggles, she rubbed her aching temples with the heels of her hands. His mercurial moods baffled her, set her on edge. “Look, I appreciate the risks you’ve taken to get me out of that stink hole. I’m doing everything I can to cooperate. But sometimes it seems like you’re …” She waved a hand, searching for the right word, then dropped it limply to her lap again. “I don’t know … mad at me or something. Have I done something to tick you off?”
Cajun Man was silent, and without her goggles, he was nothing but a looming figure in the blackness. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer, but finally he murmured, “Not you. Your father.”
Her pulse kicked, and she sat taller. “What does any of this have to do with my father?”
“Everything,” he growled, then sighed heavily. “And nothing.”
She huffed her annoyance with his cryptic responses. “Which is it?”
“Let’s just say it’s bitterly ironic that I’m the one who’ll be bringing you home to your father.”
She blinked, befuddled by his word choice. “Ironic? Why?”
She sensed his hard gaze as a tingle skittered down her spine.
“Because your father tried to kill me.”

Chapter 3
A laugh of disbelief erupted from Nicole. “No way! My father is not a murderer.” She scoffed and shook her head, amazed she was even debating such an absurd topic. “I may have had my differences with him in the past, but he’s an upstanding citizen and an honorable man. He’s a United States Senator, for heaven’s sake.”
The Cajun dropped quickly to a crouch in front of her, and she felt the stir of his breath when he jammed his face inches from hers to growl, “Not anymore. He was censured and later resigned.”
Nicole’s chest tightened. “Why?”
“Because he’s a traitor to the United States.”
She huffed indignantly. “That’s a lie! He’d never—”
“He did,” Cajun snarled. “I can prove that he negotiated with a terrorist and gave up classified information vital to national security, trying to get you released.” He paused, breathing hard. “And while I respect his goal—clearly I’ve risked my own life to get you out of this hellhole—I would never have betrayed my country to do it.”
Nausea swamped her gut, and she shook her head, trying to clear the confusing jumble of information that buzzed through her brain. “I—I don’t believe you.”
He grunted his disgust and impatience. “You don’t have to believe me. I know what I know.”
Nicole worked to form enough spit in her dry mouth to swallow. She fumbled to put her night vision goggles back on, to try again to identify her father’s accuser. “Who are you, and what is it you think he did? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
Cajun Man shoved to his feet again and angrily slapped a low-hanging branch out of his way. “A few months ago, he betrayed two American operatives working a top secret mission in enemy territory. He was trying to win your release, but … clearly, it didn’t work.”
Nicole’s stomach swirled, acid biting hard. “Wh-what happened to the operatives?”
He didn’t answer for several seconds, and dread screwed tighter in her chest.
“They took it upon themselves to rescue you, despite what your father almost cost them.”
Nicole drew a silent gasp as the earth beneath her pitched. “Y-you …?”
Rather than answer her, he flicked his hand, motioning for her to stand up. “Come on. Time to go.”
She gaped at him, too numb to move. “So … what? I’m some kind of pawn in your vendetta with my father?”
“Sounds about right. And it evens the score between you and me, too. Don’t you think?”
She shook her head, stunned and confused. “Am I supposed to know you?”
He snorted derisively. “Says a lot that you don’t.”
“Look, stop talking in riddles and tell me what’s going on! Who are you?” As hard as she was trying to keep her voice low, frustration and anger sharpened her tone.
“Get—” A loud pop cut the Cajun off and echoed through the dark jungle. Then a series of nerve-rattling cracks. Cajun Man barked a curse and yanked her to her feet. “Snipers! Run!”
Staggering, Nicole ran, fueled by fear. Cajun Man led the way, returning fire with his handgun. Around her bits of bark and dirt flew. The snipers’ bullets zinged past her. She charged forward, blindly following the Cajun.
Suddenly, with an agonized scream, he fell.
Nicole skidded to a stop and dropped behind the modest protection of a fallen tree. The Cajun dragged himself forward, clutching his left leg, and an icy chill raced through her. She scrambled to his side. “You’re hit?”
He pushed her away. “Forget me and go!” he rasped. “Straight ahead. Alec has the chopper—”
“I can’t leave you here!” She moved closer and, with the help of her night vision goggles, she saw the bloody mess that was his knee. “Oh, my God!”
Despite her medical training, her gut pitched. He had to be in excruciating pain. Staying low to avoid the continuing rain of sniper fire, she whipped her shirt over her head. Unmindful of her dishabille, she tore the shirt at the side seam.
“No time!” He batted her away when she tried to staunch his bleeding. “Go!”
Tears filled her eyes. “And leave you here to die? How heartless do you think I am?”
He rolled his head back, teeth gritted and his thick neck arched as he growled in pain. “Nicole!”
Desperation and adrenaline spurred her to action. Wrapping her shirt around his knee, she tied the fabric off, then grabbed the front of his shirt in a fist. “Get up, soldier!” He wasn’t the only one who could bark orders. “You will go with me. Now!”
She shoved her shoulder under his left armpit and struggled to get him upright and still stay behind the protection of the large tree.
Indecision bit Nicole. The Cajun was twice her size, and they were surrounded by snipers. How was she supposed to get them both to the helicopter safely?
The Cajun clearly read her dilemma, and with his superior strength, pried himself out of her grip. “Leave me, damn it! Run!”
Emotion clogged Nicole’s throat, but she choked out, “Promise you’ll follow.” He jerked a nod that didn’t quite convince her, but the hail of bullets seemed to be closing in. She stuck her face in the Cajun’s and shouted, “I’ll bring Alec back for you.”
“No!” he yelled as she turned to run.
Moisture not only blurred her vision, but in the hot jungle, her night vision goggles steamed up. Giving up on the goggles, she yanked them off and tossed them behind her as she plowed forward. The first thin rays of morning sun filtered through the jungle canopy, and with the watery light as a guide, she rushed toward what appeared to be a clearing ahead. The whir of a motor reached her over the pounding of her pulse and the pop of gunfire.
Please God, let that engine be Alec with the helicopter.
“Alec!” Screaming for his help took almost more breath than she had left. Surely he’d heard the gunfire. Where was—?
A hand grabbed her arm and swung her into the thick vegetation. She swallowed her gasp, recognizing the tall, dark-haired man still wearing his night vision goggles. “Alec!”
He shoved her behind him. “Keep your head down!” Leaning against a tree branch with an automatic weapon propped on his shoulder, Alec fired into the trees. “Jake’s got the chopper ready. That way!” He freed a hand long enough to push her toward the clearing.
She jerked away. “Where’s Tia?”
“On the chopper with Jake.”
She nodded in relief, then gasped, “Your partner was shot. We have to go back for him!” She started back the way she’d come, trusting Alec would follow.
“Nicole, wait!” He grabbed at her retreating back, but because she’d shed her shirt, he came up empty-handed. “Nicole!”
“Hurry!” She didn’t wait. Desperate to reach the Cajun, she pumped her legs, knocking palm fronds out of her way with her arm, retracing her steps, using tree trunks for cover and the thick foliage to camouflage her progress. The sun was slightly higher now. Shadowy forms separated from the thin gray light that seeped through the jungle ceiling. Terror coiled around her like a python, squeezing her chest, but she forcefully battled the fear down. She had to keep it together. Not just for her own sake, but for Tia. For Alec and for the Cajun who, even though he hated her for some unknown offense, had risked his life, taken a bullet in his leg, saving her.
Alec, moving so silently she didn’t hear him until he was upon her, pressed close behind Nicole, his automatic weapon at the ready.
The snipers’ fire had slacked off, although she still saw an occasional muzzle flash in the upper branches followed by the chilling thud of a bullet hitting the ground.
“Go back to the chopper. I’ll find him,” Alec growled.
They’d only gotten half of the way back to where she’d left the Cajun, and something deep inside her wouldn’t let her leave the jungle without him. She’d opened her mouth to argue, when one of the dark shadows moved with a lurch and a groan.
Nicole’s heart stutter-stepped in admiration and compassion. Despite the obvious pain he was in, the Cajun was struggling toward their extraction point. As he neared, she made out the branch he used as a crutch while he dragged his bloodied leg behind him. He’d taken off his goggles as she had, and no longer had his backpack. Everything in his body language, from his rigidly set jaw, taut mouth, fisted hands and forward canting body as he staggered through the jungle exuded a sheer grit and steely determination. This man was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor.
Your father tried to kill me.
Nicole shook her head to clear the baffling accusation from her thoughts. She’d have time to work through the Cajun’s assertions later. Right now, they had to get back to the helicopter.
She hurried toward him with Alec on her heels. Hearing them, Cajun jerked his head up, along with his gun.
She inhaled sharply. “Don’t shoot. It’s us.”
He blew out a harsh breath. “Damn it, Nicole! I told you not to—”
“I know what you said,” she countered, as Alec wedged himself under his partner’s left arm, and Nicole moved to his right side. “I chose to ignore your orders. I knew and accepted the risk of helping you.” She tensed her legs as he shifted some of his weight onto her and limped forward a couple steps. She angled a quick glance at his grimacing face and couldn’t resist adding, “I figure it evens the score between you and me.”
He stiffened. Whipped a startled look toward her. The thin dappled light still cast his face in shadow, but she felt the intensity of his glare. Without commenting, he hobbled forward. “Faster. I can take it.”
“But you’re—” The rat-a-tat of an automatic weapon echoed through the jungle behind them, getting closer.
“Don’t baby me,” he snarled. “Let’s move!”
Holding tightly to his arm, his waist, Nicole half jogged, half staggered as she and Alec all but dragged the Cajun. He screamed in pain but demanded they keep up their pace. By the time they reached the clearing where the chopper waited, her legs were jelly, and her arm muscles quivered. As they left the line of trees, Alec shoved his weapon at her and hoisted his partner over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Cover us!”
Nicole gaped at the automatic weapon in her hands and shuddered. She’d only seen guns like this one fired. Had never held, much less fired, one.
But a new hail of bullets peppered the clearing as Alec ran for the chopper door with the Cajun across his back. Nicole swung the big gun up and fired toward the muzzle flashes in the jungle. Spinning on her heel, she darted across the open field, praying that everything she’d heard about moving targets was true. She kept her eyes fixed on the open door of the helicopter. Inside, she could see Tia in her pink shorts, huddled with her hands over her ears.
Alec dumped his partner unceremoniously on the floor of the chopper, then ran to the copilot’s seat, yelling to the pilot, “Take off, cowboy!”
Panting for breath, Nicole dove into the open side of the chopper. The instant she was aboard, the helicopter lurched off the ground. Her stomach pitched as they ascended and swooped over the treetops. Dropping the weapon in her hands as if it were a rattlesnake, Nicole gasped for air and took a mental survey. She was in one piece, even though nicks and cuts on her arms and legs trickled blood.
And Tia was safe—even if the gunfire and tumult had clearly revived whatever nightmare she’d survived earlier. Nicole scuttled awkwardly across the rocking helicopter floor until she reached the frightened child.
With a whimper, Tia wrapped her arms around Nicole and buried her face on her shoulder. Tia’s warm tears dripped onto Nicole’s skin, reminding her that she’d sacrificed her shirt to the Cajun’s knee, so she wore only a bra. She closed her eyes and sighed, unable to find the energy to care. Modesty seemed a ludicrous indulgence in light of the situation.
“Nicole …” The strangled-sounding voice was almost lost in the roar of the helicopter turbines.
She raised her head to meet the Cajun’s gaze. His dark eyes were wild with agony, and his face contorted in misery when the chopper hit an air pocket, jostling him. She hated seeing him suffer, no matter what vile allegations he’d leveled against her father. Whatever his reasons, his agenda, he had saved her—and Tia—from that cesspool prison camp.
“Ni-cole,” he repeated and held a hand out, summoning her to come closer.
Giving Tia a reassuring smile, she untangled herself from the child’s grip and moved to his side.
Nicole grasped his hand with one of hers and stroked his stubble-covered face with her other hand, wishing she could do something, anything to ease his pain. At that moment, the morning sun broke over the tops of the trees and shone through the open side door of the helicopter, casting his rugged face in sharp relief. For the first time, she could truly see the man who’d risked his life for her. Even with heavy black stubble covering his jaw, mud smudged on his cheeks and his features drawn in a grimace of pain, her Cajun rescuer was a devastatingly handsome man. Her heart clenched, and the prickle of déjà vu returned. He seemed so familiar.…
“I … need—” He stopped, clenching his teeth and growling in torment. “Please … I need—”
Tears puddled in her eyes. “What do you need? Tell me.”
She had no idea what medical supplies, painkillers or other provisions the helicopter had, but she’d move heaven and earth to get him the best care when they were back in the States.
He drew a couple shallow breaths, his jaw tightening again. “I need to know … you remember.” He swallowed hard, his eyes drilling into hers. “Tell me … you remember.”
His request, and the obvious emotional distress behind it, rattled her. Witnessing his physical pain was hard enough. She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but the tortured plea in his eyes stole her breath and her resolve.
“I remember,” she lied, leaning closer to be sure he heard her.
He held her gaze for a moment, sweat beading on his forehead and expectant hope lighting his gaze. Then he scowled darkly and jerked his gaze away. He ground his back teeth together and scrunched his face in agony.
With lightning speed, he seized the back of her head and wound his fingers in her hair so tightly her scalp prickled. She gasped, as he pulled her down so that her face hovered right above his. “Then say my name!”
She stared at him, stunned by his vehemence and trying to reconcile the nagging intuition she’d had since he’d kissed her at the camp that something didn’t add up. The niggling familiarity of his voice. Her body’s response to his touch.
“Say my name, Nicole,” he repeated, raggedly this time. “I want to hear you say it.”
And in a heartbeat, an echo from her past yanked her back five years to a hotel room in New Orleans. Her heart wrenched, and tears spilled from her eyes.
“Oh, my God!” She curled her fingers into the hair at his nape and buried her face in his neck. “Daniel …”
Five years earlier
“What do you think?” Nicole asked as she struck a pose wearing Daniel’s uniform hat. Only his uniform hat. “Could I be in the Navy?”
From the hotel bed, Daniel stacked his hands behind his head, a move that emphasized the broad cut of his bare shoulders and the muscle definition in his arms. He sent her a seductive grin. “What I think is that I’ll never wear my dress whites again without thinking how much better they look on you.”
Nicole dropped her pose and crawled across the bed to him, letting her fingers walk up his chest. “Personally, as hot as you look in your dress whites, I have to say I like you out of them even more.”
She flashed him a wicked grin, earning a playful pat on her fanny before he captured her head with his hand and dragged her close for a hot kiss. Despite having made love to him four times already in the past few hours, the heat of his mouth on hers, the stroke of his fingers along her thigh sent a thrill through her blood and made her body quiver in anticipation of another mind-blowing climax. She’d never, in her limited experience, known a man who could so thoroughly and continually elicit such a powerful and carnal response from her. He’d explored every inch of her body and unerringly found and finessed erogenous zones she’d never known she had.
Breathless, she plucked a condom from the bedside stand and ripped it open. “What do you say, Boudreaux? Are you ready for me?”
Holding her gaze, he took the prophylactic from her and covered himself. “Now I am.”
In a deft move, he kicked the sheet off his feet and flipped her to her back. She gasped, then laughed as he straddled her, pinning her arms over her head with one hand and running one finger along the side of her midriff. She squirmed, trying to get away from the teasing touch. “Stop,” she said, giggling, “I told you I’m ticklish.”
He arched a sexy black eyebrow, and his dark brown gaze burrowed into her. “And I told you what would happen if you called me Boudreaux again.”
She squealed in mirth as he lightly trailed his fingers over her most sensitive spots. “Stop!”
He traced the curve of her hip and down her leg. “What’s my name?”
“Boudreaux!”
He shook his head and tickled his way past her naval, then circled her nipples with one finger. “Say my name. My real name.”
She chuckled, flashed a saucy grin. “Afraid I’ve forgotten it?”
His head cocked to one side. “Have you?”
“No.”
“Prove it.” He tweaked the tip of her breast and shifted his weight so that his erection nudged between her legs.
Just the promise of what was to come coiled desire in her womb and chased the teasing grin from her lips. The fiery sensations crackling through her were no laughing matter. She wanted him inside her with an urgency that was primal and overwhelming. She angled her hips, straining toward him. “Please …”
Even when she wrapped her legs around him and arched her back, he waited.
“Say my name.” His tone held no humor, and his eyes shone with a hunger and passion that stirred a tremor deep in her core. He brushed a kiss across her lips and nuzzled her cheek. “I want to hear my name on your lips when I’m inside you.”
The sensual rasp of his voice stroked her, wound her anticipation tighter, while the poignant intimacy of his request seized her heart. She threaded her fingers through his hair and raised her lips to his ear. “Daniel. Daniel LeCroix …”
Nicole whispered his name, rolling the R in a sensual purr that vibrated through him and stoked the need that pounded through his veins. His body thrumming, he drew a ragged breath and buried himself inside her. “Ah, Nicole … cher …”
A sexy gasp caught in her throat, and she moaned as he filled her. Her body gripped his, and a protectiveness, an overwhelming need to possess her, drove him to hold her closer, thrust deeper, take her higher. When they’d made love the first time, he’d thought he could get his fill of her and satisfy the fascination with her that had begun on her prom night years ago. Instead he found the more they made love, the more he wanted her and the more he lost his heart to her.
With a mewling cry, Nicole bowed her back and shuddered as she peaked. “Daniel!”
The first pulse of her body milking him shattered his restraint, and primal noises rumbled from his throat as he followed her into a mind-numbing climax.
When the maelstrom passed and the sensual haze began to lift, he knew he was in trouble. His caring this much about her gave Nicole power over him. Rather than getting her out of his head, she’d found a way past his defenses and into his heart.
He tried to move away from her, needing distance to clear his head, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her body against his. “Hold me, Daniel. Please, hold me.”
And he did. Until they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. Until the first light of morning peeked through the gap in the curtains and prodded him awake.
Until her cell phone chimed on the dresser, and she rolled out of bed to answer it.
He flopped onto his back and watched her through his eyelashes as she, in all her naked glory, stumbled groggily across the room. The sight of her smooth skin and sultry curves sent a fresh rush of desire thundering through him.
Nicole plucked her cell phone from the dresser and checked the screen. Her shoulders sagged, and she groaned before she thumbed the answer button. “Hi, Dad.”
Daniel tensed.
“Yes, I was still asleep. Why?” She gasped, and her back stiffened. “Oh, no. I completely forgot. I’m so sorry.” She sent a quick glance to their bed and winced. “Yeah, I know how important it is to you.”
He propped on one elbow, watching her, and she mouthed, Sorry. Then turning, she headed into the bathroom. “I’m getting in the shower now. I’ll meet you there.”
Disappointment plucked at him. He’d hoped they could at least share breakfast before they parted ways.
He heard her turn on the shower and flopped back against the pillow with a sigh. Tossing back the covers, he climbed out of bed and strolled to the door of the bathroom to ask her if she wanted him to order room service. But the door was locked.
Frowning, he raised his hand to knock.
“Yes, I did spend the night with that guy from the bayou,” she said, her voice haughty, her tone dripping disdain. “In fact, I had sex with him. Many times.”
The taunting tone of her voice sent a chill through him. He lowered his hand and listened with his heart in his throat.
“I’m perfectly clear on your feelings about him,” she scoffed, and he heard a thump. “Maybe that’s the point.”
A sinking sensation knotted in his chest as he saw last night through a new lens. The smug grin she’d given her father when she’d introduced him as her date for the rest of the night. Her repeated use of the Boudreaux moniker. The dark suspicious looks her father had given him.
His sense of being caught in the middle of a family feud had been more on target than he’d realized.
“Because I could, Dad. I can sleep with a Cajun or a frat boy or the whole naval fleet if I feel like it. I’m not a little girl anymore. You can’t dictate my life.”
Daniel staggered back a step from the door as if pushed, as if kicked in the gut. Blindsided. Sucker punched. Deceived.
Had last night been nothing but a rebellion against her father? A walk on the wrong side of the tracks so she could flout her father’s ideals?
“Who says there’ll be a next time?” she said. “Maybe I’m ready to go back to Houston and finish my nursing degree! It’s exactly what Mom would have wanted!”
As her argument with her father grew more heated, Daniel raked a hand through his hair and battled down the bitter hurt and anger that roiled inside him.
She’d used him. She’d seen an opportunity to hook a man her father saw as unworthy and dangle her tryst in the senator’s face. A sharp ache of betrayal raked through his chest, and he snatched his pants and dress jacket from the closet.
Nicole’s voice became a muted drone as he dressed and put on his shoes. By the time he gathered his hat and cell phone from the nightstand, a sour disgust, with himself and with Nicole’s betrayal, had risen like bile in his throat.
The shower was the only sound from the bathroom when he gave the room one last glance for anything he’d missed. The rumpled bed served a vivid reminder of what had transpired the night before. He might have been making love to Nicole, but he’d gotten screwed.
Nicole sat on the floor of the shower, silent tears tracking down her cheeks. She had to pull herself together, couldn’t let Daniel see how deeply her father’s attitude hurt her. Somewhere during the night, making love to Daniel, she’d realized the only way to get her life back under control was to make a clean break from her father. She couldn’t be the daughter he wanted her to be, and trying was suffocating her.
Losing her father, so soon after losing her mom, made it all the harder to break free. But if she needed any reminder how differently they viewed the world, it had been obvious when her father had referred to Daniel in such derogatory terms. She’d thrown the words back in his face, hoping her father would hear how elitist he sounded, but Alan White couldn’t see what she saw him becoming. And it broke her heart.
Shutting of the water, Nicole dragged herself from the shower and dried off, deciding how much to tell Daniel about the argument he had to have overheard. The truth, of course, but how much of the truth? She was still grappling with the truth herself.
Finally, pulling on the plush robe the hotel provided, she headed back out to the room to face her future. And found no one there.

Chapter 4
Present day—New Orleans
Daniel woke slowly, keeping still, using all of his senses to test his surroundings for possible threats before opening his eyes. He’d been trained to assess every new situation carefully, especially if he was at a strategic disadvantage. Which he was, based on the throbbing ache in his knee and no memory past struggling to the chopper amid gunfire.
The beep of electronics and the murmur of distant voices, too muted for him to distinguish what language they were speaking, met his ears. He lay flat on a soft surface and had covers over him. A bed. His knee hurt like the devil, and he had tubes and needles poking him. His head felt a little muzzy, likely from some kind of painkiller, but he began to build a picture. He could smell antiseptic and … roasted chicken? His stomach growled.
So he was in a hospital room. But where?
And someone held his hand. That fact made his pulse trip. Who—?
He cracked his eyes open, peeking out through his eyelashes, careful not to alert his company to his waking … just in case.
Nicole sat in a wheelchair beside his bed, her head lolling to the side, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted. Asleep. She wore a blue hospital gown and an IV bag, hanging from a pole attached to her wheelchair, was hooked up to her right hand. As when he’d found her asleep at the prison camp, he was struck by how beautiful she looked, despite the circumstances. And how vulnerable.
On the heels of that thought, he flashed to the jungle. To Nicole pushing herself to keep up despite her obvious exhaustion. To her feisty determination not to leave him behind when he was shot. To her stubborn protectiveness over the little girl.
No. Nicole White might look vulnerable, but a tenacious streak ran through her.
He angled his gaze to their joined hands, determined not to read anything into her presence in his room. Hands he remembered as delicately feminine and soft were now chapped and showed the wear of harsh living conditions. Her once well-manicured fingernails were short and ragged, her skin marred by cuts and bruises. The physical reminders of her ordeal caused a twisting sensation deep in his chest.
Oh, my God! Daniel … He’d blacked out shortly after her eyes had widened in recognition. Finally.
Disappointment pinched him.
But … the jungle had been dark, their situation had been perilous, and their last meeting had been over five years ago. His appearance had changed some over the years.
Still … it stung that she’d not known him immediately. Especially after the intimacies they’d shared their one night together. Daniel sighed. One night five years ago and one night ten years ago. Maybe he was asking too much to think she’d remember him. And even if she did recall everything that had happened that night in New Orleans, where did that leave them?
He had to remember who her father was, the reason they’d only had the one night, the way she’d used him.…
A spike of bitter resentment seeped through the golden memories and gnawed in his gut. Nothing was settled between them. Clenching his back teeth, Daniel eased his hand out from under hers, careful not to wake her, then shifted in the bed to give her his back.

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