From the New York Times bestselling author of Bound to Danger, a tale of a woman in danger and the one man who will keep her safe at all costs...
Chief Nursing Officer Hannah Young is accustomed to working under pressure, but even she's still reeling in the aftermath of a horrific terrorist attack on Miami. And things only get worse after a knife wielding maniac tries to kill her. Desperate for help, Hannah must turn to the one man she never thought she'd see again.
After spending an intensely passionate night with Hannah, NSA Agent and former Delta Force operative Dax Costas fell off the face of the earth. He got called away for a two week mission with no way to contact her. Now he can't get the smart, sexy woman out of his head. She might be angry at him, but when it appears she has a stalker, Dax moves her under his roof and into his protection.
Unfortunately, whoever wants Hannah dead will stop at nothing. And if Dax can't identify the perpetrator in time, it could be too late to discover if there is more between him and Hannah than just heated passion...
Includes a preview of the next Deadly Ops novel, Shattered Duty
Praise for the Deadly Ops novels
“Will keep you on the edge of your seat!”–Cynthia Eden, New York Times bestselling author
“Both romantic and suspenseful, a fast-paced sexy book full of high stakes action.” –Heroes and Heartbreakers
“A really good, new military romance series…a passionate and action-riddled read.”–That’s What I’m Talking About
“A fast-paced high-stakes romantic thriller…Strong characterization and steadily mounting tension are powerful weapons in this talented author’s arsenal.”–Publishers Weekly
“Nonstop action, a solid plot, good pacing, and riveting suspense.”–RT Book Reviews
Unfortunately he couldn’t explain everything to her. Not yet. First he needed clearance from his boss, Wesley Burkhart. And his boss was off on a fucking mission and he had gone dark. Even Burkhart’s assistant, Karen, couldn’t tell Dax the man’s whereabouts. Deep down, Dax was almost positive that he’d be allowed to tell Hannah why he’d been unable to contact her. Not specifics, but at least a general reason why.
Normally someone in his line of work couldn’t tell a civilian shit, but Hannah wasn’t just a normal civilian. She’d already dealt with the NSA on more than one occasion, and her best friend was married to one of their most deadly former operatives. Her parents had even opened up their home as a sort of safe house a few weeks ago for someone. But . . . he needed the approval to tell her or he could theoretically be charged with treason.
The beat of the Latin music thumped through the small club/restaurant where he’d found Hannah. He’d shamelessly used company resources, more or less begging Karen Stafford to track Hannah using her cell phone. Wrong? Yep. But he didn’t care.
Not when it came to Hannah. She was different from any other women he’d been with. Something he’d known from the moment he’d met her and she’d made a smart-ass comment about him looking like GI Joe on vacation. She was beautiful, to be sure—scratch that, fucking gorgeous—but she was fun to be around. Fun, sexy, and incredibly smart.
Luckily Karen had taken pity on him and found Hannah. Fucking child’s play with Karen’s resources and skills. He knew she wouldn’t do it for ninety-nine percent of the people she worked with, but they’d been on missions together before. Too many times to count, she’d been the voice on the other end of the comm keeping him and their team alive with her inside knowledge and eyes in the sky.
Today was one of his most important missions—convince Hannah to give him a second chance. Because if she shut him out, somewhere deep inside he wasn’t sure if . . . Nope. Not even going there. He’d never failed a mission yet, and he wasn’t going to start now.
Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of the bartender leaving his change on the bar, but all Dax’s focus was on the server taking the drink to Hannah. She’d just come off the small dance floor to join some of her friends. They were either sitting or standing around a high cocktail table, most of them swaying to the music. Including her, there were four women and one man, who Dax was positive was gay since he’d seen him flirting with half a dozen guys in the last twenty minutes. He was glad too, because the way he’d been dancing with Hannah had all of Dax’s possessive instincts flaring to life. Instincts he hadn’t realized he had until her.
Her long inky black hair was down loose around her shoulders. She had some sparkly thing in her hair, clipped in on one side, pulling part of it up. When they’d spent those four days together she’d once complained about how heavy her hair was, but he hoped she didn’t cut it. He loved running his fingers through it. Wearing a strapless purple dress and high heels that put her at probably five feet five, she looked incredible.
Her face lit up in surprise when the server handed her the drink. When the woman pointed in Dax’s direction, Hannah looked over and froze.
Dax had stared down the barrel of more than one gun in his lifetime and been behind enemy lines in situations he was positive he wasn’t getting out of alive. But until now he’d never felt so tense and nervous. This was it. She either talked to him or blew him off.
She stared for a long moment, as if she didn’t believe it was him sitting there, then handed her drink to the blond man at her table before stalking toward Dax. She looked annoyed more than anything, but the way she was headed for him, all fierce determination, got him insanely hot.
He swiveled in his chair fully to greet her but didn’t get up. He was taller than most people and she was petite, even with the heels. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was trying to intimidate her with his size.
When she came to stand in front of him, she placed one hand on her hip. She kept her nails short, with no polish, but her toes were a bright coral. Because of his military background and his job at the NSA, he noticed a lot about people, but normally it was important stuff. Not someone’s nail-polish color. With Hannah, he drank in everything about her. He’d been fantasizing about her for the past two weeks, and like a starving man, he couldn’t get his fill.
“Are you stalking me?” she demanded in a haughty voice that made his dick stand at attention. Shit. His body was his to control, always had been. Until her.
He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
She blinked, some of the tension leaving her body. “That’s your answer?”
He shrugged again. “I figured honesty is the best policy with you.”
“That’s funny coming from a giant liar.” Hurt flared in her dark brown eyes for the briefest moment, but he felt it like a kick to his solar plexus.