LITMIR.BIZ

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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,

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