Two Dauntless Hearts

In one of the most remote locations

A SEAL meets his match...

Stationed in Africa, SEAL “Pitbull” Percy Taylor is on leave and flying to Kenya for a safari. Until bush pilot Marly Simpson is forced to crash-land their plane on the savanna. Stranded together, the itinerant pilot and the roving SEAL find a connection neither dreamed possible. And when Marly and her plane disappear, Pitbull rallies his SEAL team...to save the only woman he could ever truly love.

MISSION: SIX

ELLE JAMES, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at [e-mail] or www.ellejames.com.

Also by Elle James

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Two Dauntless Hearts

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Hot Target

Hot Zone

Hot Velocity

Navy SEAL Survival

Navy SEAL Captive

Navy SEAL to Die For

Navy SEAL Six Pack

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Two Dauntless Hearts

Elle James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07898-6

TWO DAUNTLESS HEARTS

© 2018 Mary Jernigan

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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This book is dedicated to all the wild animals in Africa that make it such an interesting and beautiful place to visit. Also, to the people who strive to keep those animals safe from poachers. They deserve a chance to live and roam free of harm.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

“Nope. I’m not going.” One look at the plane they’d already flown in twice and he was out. Done. Finished. He put himself in harm’s way too often to risk it on vacation.

Percy “Pitbull” Taylor spun on his heels. He started back toward the van and the driver who’d brought six members of his SEAL team to the small landing strip outside of Camp Lemonnier on the Horn of Africa. “Twice was enough. I thought you’d snared a ride with the 160th Night Stalkers. I prefer helicopters. You know how I feel about crop dusters.”

Buck clapped a hand to his shoulder and turned him back around. “Now, don’t go getting your boxers in a twist.”

“I don’t wear boxers,” Pitbull grumbled.

“You’ve flown with Marly twice. She’s a good pilot and she knows her plane. And it’s not a crop duster. Besides, nothing bad happened on the previous two flights. What makes you think anything will happen this time?”

Pitbull frowned as he let Buck guide him toward the small bush plane they’d used in their last operation to rescue the US Secretary of Defense’s son and his hot, tough-as-nails assistant. “Yeah, but three’s a charm.” He tipped his head toward the offending aircraft. “Look at it. I swear it’s only held together by spit and duct tape.”

With a low chuckle, Buck leaned closer. “Don’t let Marly hear you badmouth her bird. She might decide to leave us behind.”

“That would be just fine with me.” Pitbull sighed. “I can’t believe you talked me into doing this.” He shook his head. “I’d have been perfectly happy waiting for our next assignment back at camp.”

“Seriously?” Diesel shot a glance over his shoulder as he walked ahead. “You have the chance of a lifetime to go on a safari in Africa, and you’d rather stay at Camp-Hot-As-Hell-in-the-Friggin’-Desert eating MREs?”

“I can’t believe the CO granted us leave here in Africa.” Harm came up from behind Pitbull, sliding his backpack over his left shoulder. “Somebody slip something into his drink last night?”

“I think he got a little pressure from the Sec Def,” Big Jake said.

“One week.” T-Mac grinned back at Pitbull and Harm from where he walked next to Diesel. “One whole week to get a real feel for the majesty of the savanna and experience all the animals we only see in zoos.” The man practically skipped toward the plane, his step quickening as if he feared the CO would show up and pull their leave request. T-Mac had a knack with animals. He planned to own a ranch when his gig with the navy was up. He talked nonstop about the horses, cattle, llamas and other exotics he planned to populate the ranch with when he got out.

That was T-Mac.

Pitbull couldn’t think past the plane standing in front of him. He much preferred helicopters. Oh, he knew they were more dangerous than planes, but he’d grown accustomed to them. The whopping sound of rotors soothed his anxieties about heights and leaving the ground. The single-engine prop job of an airplane didn’t give him the warm fuzzies. Far from it.

As they neared the plane, Pitbull’s nerves stretched. He focused on the pilot walking around the exterior, performing preflight checks.

They’d met Marly Simpson a couple weeks ago, when she’d helped them on a mission. They’d needed air transport in a hurry and had been forced to skip the call to their usual helicopter support team. She’d come through in the pinch.

But hell, they weren’t in a pinch now. Why the hell did they have to fly in that tin can?

Marly wore a khaki-colored flight suit, the outfit hugging her slender body like a glove, accentuating every curve. The woman was a no-holds-barred, tough gal who could hold her own in any conversation or situation. She flew all over the African continent in that rust bucket, transporting people and cargo to the most inaccessible, dangerous and god-awful places without batting a single pretty eyelash.

Yeah, Pitbull had noticed Marly and the fact she had a sexy, slender neck, ripe for kissing. Her long sandy-blond hair hung down to her waist when she pulled it out of the perpetual ponytail she wore, but that didn’t make the fact they were flying in a single-engine prop job to their vacation destination any more appealing to Pitbull. It helped, but not enough.

Marly completed her inspection before they reached her and turned in their direction. “Hi,” she said in her unassuming, warm voice, a smile spreading across her face. “Great to see you guys.”

Harm reached her first.

Marly held out her hand. “Harm, you’re looking well.”

“You, too.” Harm shook her hand and stood back as she greeted the rest of the team.

Diesel took her outstretched hand and pulled her into a bear hug. “Can’t tell you how glad we were when you said you could take us to Kenya.”

“My pleasure.” She smiled up at Diesel. “How’s Reese?”

He gave half a smile. “She’s in the States. She promised me a date when I got back.”

Marly’s lips pressed together. “Long-distance relationships. They can suck.”

“Yeah.” Diesel shrugged. “But what can you do? If you love someone enough, you can work it out. And I’m not ashamed to admit I’m completely smitten with Reese.”

“Never thought I’d hear those words coming out of your mouth.” Buck bumped Diesel’s shoulder with one of his own. “What changed your mind?”

Diesel laughed. “You have to ask?”

“Reese.” Big Jake pushed his way through the rest of the team and hugged Marly. “Guess Diesel found his soul mate, or some other drivel.”

Diesel balled his hands into a fist, a fierce frown pulling his brows low. “I take offense to your calling Reese drivel. And since when do you use words like drivel?”

“You know I don’t mean anything by it,” Big Jake said. “I’m just jealous.” He hooked his arm over Marly’s shoulder. “Will you be my soul mate, Marly? I like an independent badass of a woman.”

Pitbull’s fists clenched at Big Jake’s casual claim on the pretty pilot. Why he should tense when another man made a move on Marly was beyond him. It wasn’t as if he had a stake in the game or wanted her for himself. A navy SEAL’s life was no place for relationships. Besides, Marly lived and worked in Africa. Other than the occasional mission, they never saw each other. Again...not that he was interested in seeing Marly.

Although he had to admit, she wasn’t bad looking. Maybe a little less womanly than Pitbull’s usual feminine fare.

She chortled and threw a light punch into Big Jake’s belly. “Is that how you see me? As a badass?”

“Damn right,” he replied, rubbing his gut. “Any woman who’d risk flying in and out of some of the most hostile territories in Africa—that alone is downright kickass in my books. And you have a helluva right hook.”

She nodded. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Tipping her head to the side, she stared up at his six-foot-four-inch frame and narrowed her eyes. “As for being your soul mate, I’ll have to think about it.” She unhooked Big Jake’s arm from around her shoulders and turned to the others. “You can stow your bags in the luggage compartment or behind the back seat inside the plane.”

While Diesel, Big Jake, Harm, Buck and T-Mac stowed their gear, Marly turned to Pitbull. “What about you?”

Pitbull’s pulse quickened and his brain scrambled at her direct stare. Shit. What was it about this woman that tied him in knots? He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “What about me?”

“Are you looking for a soul mate?” Marly’s brows rose.

“Oh, hell no,” he answered. “What would I do with a soul mate when I’m never in one place long enough to grow roots?”

“Exactly.” Marly nodded toward the plane. “Besides, I have my soul mate.” She patted the plane’s fuselage. “He doesn’t argue with me much, sweeps me off my feet and carries me anywhere I want to go.”

Pitbull frowned. “Your plane?”

Marly shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about him cheating on me.”

“Until another pilot comes along,” Pitbull pointed out.

“I don’t have to cook for him,” Marly continued.

“You have to feed it aviation fuel, which can’t be cheap,” Pitbull countered.

“He doesn’t care what I wear or whether I put on makeup.”

“You got me there.” Pitbull’s lips twitched for a second. He stared at Marly’s fresh, clean face and sparkling blue-gray eyes. “But seriously, you don’t need makeup.”

Marly’s cheeks filled with a soft pink color, giving her a more feminine look. “Thanks. And for that, you win the prize.”

Pitbull’s lips curled into a wry grin. “What prize?”

Marly smiled. “Copilot’s seat.” Before Pitbull could protest, she clapped her hands sharply and faced the men standing around the plane. “If you’re ready, we can get this show on the road.”

“But—” Pitbull started.

Buck pounded Pitbull’s back. “Congratulations, you lucky dog. You’ll have the best seat on the bus.”

“If you like it so much, you take it.” Pitbull waved a hand toward the plane.

“I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of such a prime location.” Buck winked at Marly. “I’m sure the pilot will take very good care of you.”

“You know damn good and well how I feel about this plane,” Pitbull grumbled low enough for Buck to hear without clueing Marly in on their earlier discussion.

Buck cupped the back of his ear. “What’s that you say?” His brows rose high, his lips curling into a devilish grin. “You were going to tell Marly how you felt about her pride and joy?” He whacked Pitbull in the back hard enough to send him staggering forward. “Go ahead. Tell her how much you love flying in fixed-wing aircraft.” The bastard crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Marly stared at Pitbull, another smile tugging at her lips.

Caught between Buck’s taunts and Marly’s expectant stare, he did the only thing he could. He lied. “I can’t wait to ride shotgun.”

Marly’s eyes narrowed briefly. If he hadn’t been watching so closely, he would have missed it. But then her face cleared and she grinned. “Great. I’ll brief you on how to land this baby in case something happens to me.”

Pitbull shot a horrified glance her direction. He ran his gaze from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. “Holy shit, Marly. You aren’t expecting to croak while flying, are you?”

She laughed, a throaty, surprisingly sexy sound that caught and held Pitbull’s attention, despite her random threat of dying while in flight. His heartbeat ratcheted up and his groin tightened. What the hell? Marly wasn’t the kind of woman he usually found attractive. He went for dark-haired, curvy women who knew how to flirt and didn’t expect anything past a one-night stand.

Marly’s face lit and her eyes shone. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m as healthy as a horse.”

His heart hammering against his ribs, Pitbull forgot to be angry or disconcerted about having to ride in the cockpit of the aircraft. For that moment, he was lost in Marly’s laughter and smile.

Damn. This couldn’t be good.

He tore his gaze from her fresh face and happy smile to watch, without really “seeing,” as his teammates climbed aboard the aircraft and settled into their seats.

“If you’re ready,” Marly said beside him and touched his arm. “I’ll close the door behind us. Really, I’m fine. I won’t pass out and die during our flight.” She held up her hand. “Scout’s honor.”

He frowned. “I’m holding you to that promise. And I doubt seriously you were ever a Scout.” Then he ascended the steps into the tiny plane. Hunkering low to keep from bumping his head, he passed down the aisle and settled into the copilot’s place on the right.

Taking full responsibility for the aircraft, Marly secured the door behind her and joined him, resting a hand on his shoulder as she lowered herself into her seat.

Where her hand had been remained warm long after she removed it. If he were honest with himself, he’d own up to the tingling sensation sizzling through his body at her touch. Obviously he’d been too long without a woman in his bed. But now was not the time to be thinking of such a thing.

Marly was the pilot, nothing more.

“Buckle up, buttercup,” Marly said, fastening her safety straps. Over her shoulder, she told the others, “As you all well know, this isn’t your usual jetliner flight. I’ll be your pilot, or rather, copilot—with Pitbull’s assistance—and flight attendant. Please fasten your seat belts and keep them fastened until we land. There will be no beverages served on this flight, and there is no lavatory.” She gave the guys in the back a wicked grin. “If you should need to relieve yourself...hold it until we make our refueling stop halfway there.”

“Well, damn,” Buck complained. “I wanted a beer.”

T-Mac followed with, “And I was really looking forward to the peanuts.”

Big Jake waved a dismissive hand. “Ignore the whiners. We’re all set. Let ’er rip.”

“And by ‘let ’er rip,’ he means make a smooth takeoff and an even smoother landing,” Pitbull mumbled.

“I heard that.” Marly’s pretty pink lips twisted. She slapped a headset against his chest. “Wear these so you know what’s going on.”

He slipped the headset over his ears and plugged the wires into the communications ports. “Do I want to know what’s going on?”

She leaned back and gave him an assessing stare. “Pitbull, are you telling me you’re afraid of a little ol’ plane ride?” Her brows rose into the hair swooping down over her brow.

Buck leaned forward. “Bingo! Give the lady a prize.”

Marly shook her head. “You have nothing to worry about. I have over three thousand hours flying this plane alone, and more in other types of aircraft. I started flying at thirteen, over fifteen years ago. I think I can handle it.” She checked the instrument panel, flicked several switches and started the engine.

As the propeller spun into action, Pitbull’s gut clenched.

“Relax. We’ll be there before you know it,” Marly said into the mic.

Her voice filled the earphones of his headset, reassuring Pitbull when he needed it most.

Marly spoke to the nearby air traffic controller, got her instructions and started the plane taxiing toward the runway. “With all you go through as a navy SEAL, I can’t believe you’re afraid of flying.”

“I’m not afraid of flying,” Pitbull said through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into the armrest at his side. “I’m afraid of crashing.”

“But you fly in helicopters all the time,” Marly reasoned, pushing the throttle forward. The aircraft gained speed as it barreled down the runway.

“I do it as part of the job.” Pitbull tensed, praying the runway was long enough. “And helicopters don’t eat up thousands of feet of runway to take off.”

Still grinning, Marly kept her gaze on the runway ahead. “Yeah, but when the propeller stops, helicopters drop like a rock to the earth. Airplanes, on the other hand, can glide for miles.” Just as they neared the end of the runway, the plane left the ground, the wings seesawing slightly as they lifted the craft into the air.

Pitbull leaned back, willing the plane to continue its climb. “Planes can glide for miles, but they still need thousands of feet of runway to land. Helicopters don’t. Besides, I’m used to flying in helicopters, not planes.”

Her hands steady on the yoke, Marly handled the aircraft like the expert she was. “Stick with me and I’ll have you singing a different tune.”

Pitbull shot a glance her way, his groin tightening despite the knot in his gut. He’d like to stick with Marly long enough to get to know her lithe body and the taste of her pink lips. The woman was sexy when she was all into her element of flying.

Pitbull wished he could enjoy the view more. And he might if he could relax, like she said, and enjoy the ride. But this wasn’t Pitbull’s preferred method of transport. It would take a whole lot more time in the craft for him to get even remotely comfortable. In the meantime, he’d suffer through, for the sake of the team.

* * *

MARLY ALMOST FELT sorry for Pitbull. Once she was over five hundred feet in the air, she shot a glance his way.

The man was as tense as a drawn bowstring. His knuckles were white where they curled around the armrest, and he stared through the front windshield unblinkingly.

She couldn’t talk him down from his panic. She’d already tried. The best she could do was to land the plane safely and smoothly.

Marly had to admit Pitbull had been the one to catch her eye among the navy SEAL team members. His hard-packed body, square jaw and intense expression made her heart flutter, an occurrence she hadn’t experienced in her twenty-nine years. Until she’d met the SEAL team and Pitbull.

Knowing he had a deep fear of fixed-wing aircraft didn’t diminish his attraction in the least. It actually increased it in Marly’s eyes. It proved he wasn’t perfect, like she’d originally thought. After her first encounter with the team, she’d read up on the elite units of navy SEALs and what it took to become one. And wow! This man sitting beside her had braved some of the worst conditions and treatment, muscled through and had become one of America’s best.

From what she’d learned from others among the team, they’d deployed multiple times to the Middle East, Africa and other places around the world on deadly missions. Pitbull couldn’t be afraid of much, if he strode headlong into danger.

Marly had waded into dangerous situations on more than one occasion and been scared she wouldn’t emerge alive. But somehow, she had. Many times she’d considered moving back to the States and setting up a charter service there, but her mother still worked in the small villages of Africa, helping serve the poor and sick. Until her mother left Africa, she figured she might as well stay. Marly didn’t have friends or family in Virginia, where she was born. Why go back?

She glanced over at the man in the seat beside her. Perhaps if she had someone to go home to...

Not that Pitbull was that someone. Marly had grown up independent, running wild in the villages where her mother and father had worked. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle a full-time relationship. Freedom was everything to her.

And sometimes, with that freedom came loneliness.

Time passed. Marly made the scheduled stop to refuel at a small airfield halfway to their destination in northern Kenya. Her landing was so soft, she could have been kissing the ground. It didn’t matter—Pitbull had a death grip on the armrest anyway.

The men clambered out, made their visit to the latrine and hurried back as the attendant completed the refueling. Pitbull offered to let someone else sit in the copilot’s seat, but there were no takers.

Marly hid a smile. She didn’t want someone else riding shotgun. She liked the view inside the cockpit.

Her takeoff was a little less graceful as she hit a couple pockets of air that tipped the wings slightly, making the plane wobble on the ascent. Marly sighed. She couldn’t win every time.

Over the next hour, the color slowly returned to Pitbull’s knuckles as he loosened his grip on the armrest.