THEY’D BEEN SENT TO kill him.
He was surrounded by five men and each one was wearing a belt of knives around their waist. Only two had guns in their hands—both aimed at him—but that didn’t necessarily mean the other three couldn’t quickly reach their weapons if necessary. Thinking quickly, he refused to accept that he would die here, in this God-forsaken countryside, by their hands.
He was ready to make a deal, anything that would prolong his life for a little longer. Suddenly, words spoken by one of the men stopped him. The thug was speaking Ukrainian. He knew there were a few Ukrainians living in South America, but he hadn’t expected to find any this far north. Too bad nobody had told this guy that he spoke more than twenty languages—including Ukrainian—so he understood every word being said. The man was reminding the others that their commander had ordered he be taken alive. If he was harmed in any way, there would be grave consequences. The commander wanted the pleasure of killing him himself.
That made him wonder who their commander was…and what had he done to get on the man’s bad side? Granted he’d worked undercover for the USN, the United Security Network, a clandestine agency of the United States government, for the past five years. It figured that during this, his last assignment with the Network, something bad would happen. Sooner or later, the bad guys would figure out a way to get to him; that he wasn’t invincible.
His attention was quickly drawn back to his precarious situation when one of the men began advancing on him, holding a syringe in his hand that was big enough to bring down a damn bull elephant. If the guy thought he was going to stick him with that thing, he had another think coming. They might as well kill him now. Because there was no way in hell he would allow himself to be taken alive—drugged or otherwise.
When the man holding the syringe came within range, he attacked, becoming a fighting machine, kicking the syringe out of the man’s hand, then breaking the man’s neck with one blow. Then the others ganged up, and….
Dakota Navarro jerked up in bed and glanced around, then rubbed his hands down his face that was now soaked with sweat. He’d had that damn dream again. For years, he had managed to push it to the back of his mind, a place where he never had to think about it. Kovalenko and his band of cutthroats were all dead. He’d come out of that ambush alive, but not without a few scars. But he’d survived and that was the most important thing. That assignment—he’d been in South America to prevent the assassination of the president of Argentina and the subsequent coup attempt—was a thing of the past. Every member of his team, the In-flight Unit of the USN, had made it out alive. Most people hadn’t ever heard of the United Security Network. Whereas the CIA’s job was to collect and distribute foreign policy intelligence and analysis, the USN was where the real action was. It basically took that intelligence and analysis and secretly worked behind enemy lines—usually in on-the-ground-combat to protect the United States and their allies from terrorism. Dak had been recruited by the USN after serving as an Army Ranger for five years. The USN had sought him out after he’d developed a number of high-tech security devices for the US government during his stint as a Ranger.
That had been ten years ago. Now, as CEO of Navarro Technologies Incorporated, an electrical and mechanical engineering firm that specialized in advanced technology, he was a very wealthy businessman. And he was still creating high-tech security devices–some for-government use, some for the private sector. He worked hard and played harder and enjoyed jet-setting all over the globe. He had business interests in almost every country…and women waiting for him in each one, too. Life couldn’t get any better than that.
So why was knowing that he was only ten miles away from one woman—one irresistible woman—stressing him out? Because he had an itch that only she could scratch? Or because she was someone he had to stay away from? After all, her brother, Stonewall Courson, was one of his best friends. And Stonewall would hang him by the balls if he knew the images that flashed through Dak’s head whenever he thought about his sister. In his dreams, he’d made love to her, over and over, in every position known to man…as well as a few his creative mind had conjured up.
Easing out of bed, he went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, then returned to the sitting area. He liked this beach bungalow. It was roomy and just a few feet away from the ocean. Sliding into his jeans, he decided to go outside and sit for a spell. It was a beautiful June night. The smell of the ocean was strong and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore filled his eardrums. The night was so dark, he could barely see the beach. Miami Beach. He was here for another friend’s wedding. And since he was pretty sure she was a friend of the bride-to-be, it would likely only be hours before he saw her.
Dr. Amelia Courson.
Had it actually been two years since he’d last run into her at Stonewall and Joy’s wedding? She had to be the sexiest doctor he’d ever seen. Hell, she could take his pulse anytime. Check his heartbeat. Touch anything else she wanted to feel. He’d happily strip naked in front of her, so she could examine all of him. Dak chuckled. Like that would ever happen…though it would be nice. He’d fly from his home in Vermont to Virginia in a quick second just to have her give him a physical.
Easing down in one of the wicker chairs on the porch, he stared out at an ocean he couldn’t see, recalling how he and Stonewall had met. He’d hired Amelia’s brother a few years back to act as his bodyguard when someone from Dak’s past had made his way into the present. Dak had known the USN would get to the bottom of it in short order. In no time at all, they’d discovered that there had been no connection between this guy and his past as a USN agent. Instead, he’d been a former business associate who was holding a grudge about a business deal that hadn’t gone his way. Still, it hadn’t been fun. But during those nine months, his relationship with Stonewall had moved beyond that of client and bodyguard to become one of good friends. Stonewall was one of the few men he could trust. So Dak considered it the worst kind of sin to be lusting after the man’s sister. His reputation with the ladies was legendary and Stonewall knew it. Hell, he’d even been featured, in a number of high-profile magazines, as the wealthiest jet-setting playboy. His name had been linked to numerous actresses and models, but only short-term, just the way he liked it. He didn’t do long-term relationships with women. And that was the main reason he could not get involved with Amelia.
He recalled how Stonewall used to speak of his sister, whom he fondly called Mellie. Dak figured she had to be a looker—Stonewall told him she’d once been Miss Charlottesville and Miss Virginia. She had even competed in the Miss USA Beauty Pageant, coming in third place. She had used all the scholarships she’d earned in the pageants to pay her way through medical school.
So Dak should not have been surprised to find her smart and beautiful when he had finally met Dr. Amelia Courson for the first time. What had surprised him, however, the day he’d walked into the rehearsal for Stonewall’s wedding, the day he’d first set eyes on her, was that he’d wanted her, badly. When he’d found out who she was—and that she had to be off-limits—it had nearly killed him to stay away from her. But he’d managed…barely.