The Untamed Hunter

Casey could see the pain in Maggie’s large hazel eyes. “You walked away because it was destroying you. I’m sure Shep walked away out of relief because he couldn’t take the pressure of your demands for him to open up and be emotionally accessible to you.”

“You should have been a shrink, Case. Yes, that’s hitting the nail on the head.”

“Well,” Casey murmured, looking back at her desk, where the file lay, “what are we going to do? I won’t be able to change your guard dog for you.”

“I don’t want him on this mission, Casey. Anybody but him. Please…”

Casey studied her friend’s strained features, wishing it wasn’t too late to grant her desperate request.

“Well, Shep, what do you think?” Morgan tried to gird himself for Hunter’s reaction to the mission. More than anyone in his organization, Shep Hunter was a loner. Morgan knew why and understood Shep’s demand for solo missions. Morgan studied the man standing before his desk in the war room of Perseus, which was hidden deep in the Rocky Mountains of Montana. Shep was a giant at six foot six inches tall, and the thirty-eight-year-old ex-air force pilot was one of Morgan’s best mercenaries. Shep was heavy-boned and muscular, and even dressed in jeans, cowboy boots and a denim long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, he looked dangerous. Maybe it was his square face and that jutting, rock-solid jaw that gave Shep such a hard look, Morgan thought. With his short black hair and thick, black eyebrows, which emphasized his frosty blue eyes, Shep Hunter reminded Morgan of a mighty eagle ready to swoop in an attack and gut the quarry he had his sights on.

“Humph,” Shep said as he sat down in the chair across from Morgan’s desk and continued to read the mission proposal rapidly. “OID, huh?”

“Read on…there’s more to this,” Morgan warned him briskly. He was prepared to see Shep refuse the mission once he read page two, which identified the OID virologist who would be on the mission with him. Every time Morgan tried to pair Shep up with a partner, he’d refused. They’d had hellacious shouting matches over the subject from time to time, in this very room. And Morgan knew Shep would walk out and quit rather than be assigned a partner. No, ever since Sarah had died on that fateful mission with him, Shep had closed up tighter than an proverbial clam. He absolutely refused to be partnered up again.

And yet, as he tried to appear at ease as Shep devoured the mission brief, Morgan gathered his argument points as to why, if Shep wanted this mission, the OID decoy must be part of it. He just hoped Shep would take it. No one was better suited for this task than Shep, Morgan knew.

Glancing at the photos of his family on one side of his desk, Morgan felt some of his tension easing. The fraternal twins in Laura’s lap were smiling. How simple and beautiful life could be. He loved his wife and four children more than anything in the world. Looking up at Shep once more, Morgan realized he saw a lot of his former self in him. Morgan had once been as hard and icy as this merc sitting in front of him. It would take a woman who had metal, who had courage to probe the depths of Shep’s fear of intimacy, to help open him up. Morgan acknowledged even today that Laura had had more courage than he’d ever had back then. She’d taken him on—and won. But Morgan was the real winner as far as he was concerned.

When Shep rapidly flipped the page, Morgan steeled himself.

“I’ll be damned.”

Morgan leaned forward in the chair and put his elbows on his desk. He saw surprise in Shep’s normally hard, unreadable features. “What?” he asked tentatively.

“I’ll be damned. I don’t believe this,” he said in a deep tone. He held the file pointing to the photo. “This is the woman I’m supposed to guard? Dr. Maggie Harper? Are you sure?”

Puzzled by Shep’s unexpected reaction, Morgan said, “Yes. Why? Is there a problem?”

With a shake of his head, Shep uncoiled to his full height. Tossing the folder on Morgan’s desk, he turned and walked around the large, silent room with his hands on his hips. “I’ll be go-to-hell, Morgan. Life really is full of surprises and twists.”

Morgan scooped up the file and looked at the photo of the doctor. He didn’t understand Shep’s reaction. He’d never seen Shep act this way about a mission. And Morgan wasn’t sure if Hunter’s response was a good or bad one. Usually, Shep would throw the file at him and tell him to go to hell if there was a partner involved. This time, the man’s face was softening. Morgan could see a glimmer of something warm and tentative in his icy blue eyes. And his mouth, usually a thin line, had the corners turned up in a slight smile.

Stymied, Morgan held up the file. “Clue me in, will you, Hunter?”

Turning, Shep gave his boss a measured look. Though his fingers were draped casually across his narrow hips, tension thrummed through him. He felt his heart beating hard in his chest. And he felt happiness threading through him. The feeling was completely unexpected, but beautiful. It made him breathe in deeply—as if he were coming alive after a long, long sleep. How long had it been since he’d felt anything? Especially happiness? Oh, he’d felt happy for his younger brother, Reid, when he finally met Casey Morrow. And he was overjoyed that Ty and Dev had finally found women they wanted to spend their lives with, too. Yes, everyone in the family was married now—except him. And each time he’d met the woman one of his younger brothers had chosen to marry, he’d felt sad, too. Sad because he knew no one would want him. He was one mean son of a bitch who didn’t give an inch in a relationship. But after what had happened to him, how could he?

That was life, Shep decided. Life had been cruel to him. And torturous. After Sarah…He quickly snapped his mind shut, like a bear trap. Pain suddenly intermingled with the quiet joy pumping through him with each powerful beat of his heart.

“That is Maggie Harper?” he demanded. “She is a graduate of Harvard Medical School, right?”

Floundering because Shep never reacted this way to a potential partner, Morgan quickly flipped to the back page of the mission folder and glanced at her bio. “Yes, Harvard.” Looking up, he narrowed his eyes. “Just what is going on here, Shep? Tell me what I don’t know. Usually you blow up when there’s a partner even mentioned. This time you’re standing over there like a raccoon grinning over a crawdad you just caught.”

Shep smiled a little more widely. “Maggie Harper was my first real relationship. We met in our freshman year at Harvard. What a hellion she was.” He shook his head in fond remembrance. “She had guts to take me on.”

Tentatively, Morgan murmured, “I see….”

Allowing his hands to slip from his hips, Shep moved back toward the desk where Morgan still stood with a confused look on his face. “I’ll take the mission, Morgan.”

Stunned, Morgan held the younger man’s stare. Shep wasn’t one to smile often. He wasn’t exactly smiling now, but the corners of his broad, generous mouth were pulled slightly upward. Morgan saw something else in Hunter’s eyes that he’d never seen before: happiness. And hope. He stared back at the color photo of Maggie Harper.

“Does she…I mean, have you had contact with Dr. Harper—”

Chuckling, Shep said, “Nope, haven’t seen her in—let’s see—almost twenty years. I think I’m going to find this interesting, Morgan. It says she’s on a sharpshooting team. Third best in the U.S. She hasn’t changed at all. She was riding eventing horses before she went to Harvard. Looks like she’s still doing the same thing—taking risks.”

“Well,” Morgan began, completely shocked by Shep’s behavior and his agreement to take the mission, “it’s yours, then.”

Rubbing his hands together, Shep said, “And I can hardly wait to meet Maggie again. This is going to be some homecoming….”

Two

Maggie rubbed her long fingers together. They were ice cold. They got that way when she was nervous. She stood in her office at OID, waiting. According to Casey, Shep Hunter would arrive at 0900, and after Casey talked to him, Maggie would be buzzed on her desk monitor to come to Casey’s office for a wrap-up on the final details of the mission.

Why, oh why, had she agreed to take the mission? In her angst, Maggie paced the length of her rectangular office, jamming her cold hands into the pockets of her white lab coat. Outside, the day was beautiful. The bright sun and dark green grass and lush trees made her yearn to be astride her Thoroughbred and galloping through the countryside. The sky was so blue it almost made her squint as she looked out the venetian blinds. Her heart and mind swung back to Shep. What a fiery relationship they’d had, each of them bullheaded, each so very sure their own way was the right way.

Maggie ran her fingers through her hair, which she wore loose today because she wasn’t going to be working in the lab. No, today was going to be spent arranging details for a very dangerous mission. Maggie told herself she had agreed to the mission because she understood the impact of anthrax bacteria being dropped by bioterrorists on some unsuspecting city. She couldn’t stand to think she would refuse a mission because the man working with her was an old boyfriend. Actually, Shep had been much, much more than that. Maggie had fallen helplessly in love with him all those years ago. He’d been a star football player while keeping his straight A average at Harvard. He was keenly intelligent, competitive, and he’d loved her with a passion that Maggie had never experienced since.

Sighing, she ran her chilled fingers through her shoulder-length hair once more. “What have you done, Maggie?” she whispered through tight lips as she ruthlessly perused her desk, which looked like a tornado had hit it. Restlessly, she picked up some papers and tried to concentrate on them.

The phone on her desk buzzed. She jumped. The paper fluttered out of her fingers and wafted to the tile floor.

“Oh!” Maggie whispered, scooping up the letters. She was jumpier than a kangaroo. Her heart was throbbing at the base of her throat. She knew it was Casey buzzing her. It was time. Reluctantly reaching for the phone, Maggie wished she was anywhere but here right now. She was actually afraid to meet Shep once again. Gulping, she picked up the phone.

“Maggie?” Casey asked.

“Yes?”

“It’s time. Come on down so I can give you two the final briefing on this mission.”

Shutting her eyes, Maggie whispered, “Okay…I’ll be right there….”

Placing the phone gently back into the cradle, Maggie tried to steady her breathing. It had been so long since she’d seen Shep. Had he changed? Had life softened him at all? Was he more inclined to listen to other people now? Or was he still arrogant and self-righteous? A chill swept through her. She felt fear—raw, unbridled fear. Chastising herself mentally, Maggie automatically touched her hair. Taking a look in the ornate, gold-framed mirror that hung in her office, she saw that her eyes looked huge. Like a rabbit about to face a starving wolf.

Her fingers were so cold they almost felt numb. She was unhappy with her reaction. She was acting like the freshman she’d been when she first met Shep. Back then, Shep always seemed to have the world by the tail. It was as if he knew what would happen next, planned for it and then executed it so easily that Maggie felt like an idiot in comparison. Hunter was always calm, cool and collected. Right now, as she swung out her door and into the highly polished hall that lead to Casey’s corner office, she felt disheveled, unprepared and scared.

Giving herself a stern talking to as she slowly walked down the hallway, she greeted her lab cohorts who passed, feeling comforted by the sight of familiar faces. The people at OID had some of the best minds in the U.S. They were at the vanguard of the attempt to keep people safe from killer bacteria and viruses.

Shep was a virus, Maggie decided with mirth. She was infected by him and hadn’t built an immunity to him yet. That was why she felt vulnerable right now. But wouldn’t eighteen years be an immunity in itself? Time was supposed to heal everything, wasn’t it?

As Maggie reached for the brass doorknob that led to Casey’s office, her heart beat hard in her breast and she quickly ran a hand over the maroon slacks she wore beneath her lab coat. Mouth dry, she closed her fingers around the doorknob. Inside that office was Hunter. She felt hunted, all right. Taking a deep breath, Maggie jerked open the door and forced herself to move quickly into the office.

Shep contained his surprise. The woman who walked resolutely through the door into Casey Morrow-Hunter’s office was even more beautiful, more poised and more confident than he could recall. Despite her small stature, Maggie carried herself proudly, that small chin of hers leading. The years had been kind to her, Shep realized with pleasure. He rose from his chair at the corner of Casey’s desk as Maggie closed the door quietly behind her.

Their eyes met for the first time. Shep felt his heart thud hard, like someone had struck him full force in his chest with a sixteen-pound sledgehammer. He struggled for breath as he studied Maggie’s oval face, her high, smooth cheekbones. The freckles across her nose and cheeks—those delicious small copper spots—were still there. He saw her nostrils flare. That was something she’d done when he knew her years earlier—something she’d done when she was afraid. Her eyes widened incredibly. He saw every nuance of every emotion she was feeling in her gaze. The fear was there, the uncertainty, the desire…yes, desire. He knew he hadn’t wrongly read what she was feeling. That made him feel good. Damn good.

“How are you?” he said, his voice deep and unruffled. Stepping forward, Shep offered his large hand to her. He saw Maggie recoil. It wasn’t so much her posture or any outward shrinking away from him; rather, it was in her jewel-like, hazel eyes.

Forcing herself to lift her hand, Maggie croaked, “Fine…just fine, Shep….” As her fingertips slid into his proffered hand, she was once again reminded how large he was. She felt like a midget in comparison. To her right, she saw Casey stand, a smile affixed to her face but trepidation in her eyes. Maggie knew she had to make this work for Casey’s sake and for the OID.

“Your hand is cold,” Shep murmured, stepping closer and placing his other over the one he’d held captive. So much was flooding back to him about Maggie. Oh, he’d never forgotten that whenever she was nervous and upright, her hands would turn freezing cold. As he covered her hand with his now, he also remembered how small and delicate and feminine her hands were compared to his huge, hairy paws. Shep strangled the desire to pull Maggie into his arms and hold her. What would she feel like? As warm and fragrant as he recalled? A hint of honeysuckle wafted into his nostrils and he drew the scent deep into his chest. He knew it was Maggie’s skin and the delicate perfume she wore. He saw her face turn a dull red as she tried to pull her hand from his.

Panicking, Maggie jerked her hand free from Shep’s. She stood there, looking up at him and thinking that life had made him even more ruggedly handsome than before. Those ice-blue eyes of his, so wide and filled with intelligence, now burned with a tender regard for her. His mouth curved in a slight smile of welcome. Hunter rarely smiled. She felt special. She felt enveloped by his intense interest in her as a woman. There was no doubt Shep was all-male. Very male and very dangerous to her wildly thudding heart. Rubbing her hands together, Maggie managed to murmur, “You haven’t changed at all, Shep.”

The corners of his mouth turned upward even more as he watched Maggie nervously rub her cold fingers together. “Eighteen years has done nothing but make you more beautiful, Maggie.” And that was the truth. He remembered the soft, young Maggie of before. This was a woman standing before him, mature and confident. He liked that. He saw her arched red brows dip momentarily in reaction to his compliment.

“Have a seat, you two,” Casey invited. She pointed to a second chair at the opposite corner of her desk, gesturing for Maggie to sit there.

Relieved, Maggie sat before she fell down. Just the way Shep perused her—with that raw, naked look that was so male—made her knees go weak. She gripped the arms of the chair, relief sheeting through her. Once more she felt Shep’s amiable inspection of her, but she refused to look at him. He was so damned intimidating when he wanted to be! Nervously smoothing her lab coat across her thigh as she crossed her legs, Maggie devoted all her attention to Casey. Shep’s sincere words echoed through her head. He thought she looked beautiful. Maggie wasn’t any cover model, that was for sure. She felt attractive, but not beautiful in the way Shep had suggested. Yet she sensed he was being sincere. That explained why her heart was galloping away within her breast.

People who knew Shep Hunter were often repelled by his glacier look, but Maggie knew the real Shep. Having gone with him for a year, she knew his expression was a façade to purposely intimidate others. He was afraid of being hurt, so he threw up this nearly impregnable don’t-even-approach-me kind of demeanor. It worked on everyone except her. She had gotten inside Shep’s considerable armor once. She knew the sensitive man who hid behind it, but his ego made him unapproachable. As she sat rigidly in the chair, her hands clasped, she wondered if Shep had kept his sensitivity. Or had life robbed him of that, too?

Maggie painfully remembered that when they broke up, Shep had left Harvard. He’d managed to get an appointment to the Air Force Academy, instead. She knew why: he couldn’t stand being at the same school with her. The pain of their breakup had been too much for him to deal with. Stealing a look out of the corner of her eye, Maggie marveled at how wonderful Shep looked. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue chinos, a white, short-sleeved shirt and a pair of jogging shoes—very California-looking compared to the more businesslike dress of the East Coast inhabitants at OID. He was deeply bronzed and obviously spent a lot of time out in the sun. His hair was still ebony with blue highlights, the short length and neat cut shouting of his military background. But it was the thick, black hair on his lower arms and the tufts of hair peeking out the top of his shirt that shouted of his masculinity.

Shep was still in superb athletic condition, Maggie realized. He had always been strong and sturdy. She recalled his football days, and decided he looked just as firm and fit now. She wouldn’t be surprised if he regularly worked out with heavy weights at a gym. Her mind continued to wander as Casey riffled through a number of papers on her desk. Was Shep still in the Air Force? Maggie had heard he’d become a pilot of some of the hottest fighter jets available. Was he married? She didn’t see a gold band on his left hand, but that didn’t mean anything. He could be living with someone. A twinge of jealousy shot through her. Surprised at her emotional reaction, Maggie felt very unhappy with herself. Why couldn’t eighteen years erase what Shep had meant to her?

“Okay, here we go,” Casey murmured, giving them both an apologetic look. Lifting out the mission brief, she said, “Morgan e-mailed this to me last night over a secure line. He wants you two to pretend that you’re a married couple from Atlanta going on a minivacation to Savannah. You will stay there, at a bed and breakfast near the heart of the city, and then, the next morning, continue your automobile journey to Hilton Head Island in South Carolina. You will stay at a time-share overnight, and the next morning continue on to Charleston. From there, you will go due north to Fairfax, Virginia, and the USAMRID facility. The reason he’s outlined his route is that it will make the best use of FBI help and protection. The roads you’ll be traveling are all interstate and therefore, easier to drive and easier for them to get to you if something goes down.”

Maggie opened her mouth and then shut it, realizing Casey wasn’t done as she continued to read from the document.

“Again, you are to pose as husband and wife. Morgan will leak out the entire scenario to Black Dawn one hour after you leave here. Black Dawn will know you are couriers in disguise. These routes will give them ample opportunity to strike at you. Morgan has given them your itinerary, route and time of arrival at these places. There will be satellite fly-bys to keep tabs on your vehicle. Each time the satellite orbits the earth, it will make a check on your location. You’ll drive an unassuming dark blue Sedan. Nothing fancy. He wants you to blend in and look like tourists on a vacation.”

Casey flipped the page. “Maggie, you will carry the aluminum suitcase, which is small and portable. It will contain the fake anthrax. The vial will be marked to make Black Dawn think it is the real thing, but it’s not. But they won’t know that they have nothing until they test it out for three days in a petrie dish.”

“Let Black Dawn get close to that suitcase.” Shep growled. He glanced over at Maggie. Did she know how very dangerous this mission really was? The thought of bullets ripping into her flesh made his stomach contract with agony.

Maggie nodded. “I’ll hand it over when the moment arrives, don’t worry,” she muttered. Just meeting Shep’s gaze sent her heart skittering. Why did he have to be so good-looking in his rough kind of way? He was no male cover model, that was for sure. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes attested to years spent living under harsh conditions. The slash marks at the sides of his mouth were deep with time—and the result of too little smiling. His prominent nose had obviously been broken several times. Maybe it was the squareness of his face and that granite chin that made him look like the untamed Rocky Mountains where he’d grown up. She knew he’d probably shaved in preparation for the meeting, but even now the shadow of returning growth gave him a decidedly dangerous countenance.

Casey nodded and flipped the page. “You will both wear flak jackets beneath your civilian clothing. You’ll get Beretta 9 mm pistols to carry on your person. The car will have bulletproof windows.”

“But not bulletproof metal?”

“No,” Casey said. “They’re doing what they can to protect you, but this is no armored car.”

Shep nodded. “I’ll do the driving.”

“No, I will.” Maggie straightened up, her anger surfacing. “I’m the courier. You’re the guard dog. Remember?”

Casey held up her hands. “I think there will be plenty of driving for both of you. This is going to take all your attention, your concentration. Each of you can drive for a couple of hours and then switch off. It will keep you fresh and alert.”

Maggie bristled. How like Shep to just walk in and take over. He was beginning to treat her like that little freshman he knew so long ago. Well, she’d grown up. She was damned if he was going to start making decisions without consulting her first! Glaring across the space at him, she saw him scowl. Too bad. He was going to find out that she wasn’t the weak little girl he’d met back at Harvard.

“Please understand,” Casey said, looking at Maggie, “that just because the FBI is working with us doesn’t mean they can protect you twenty-four hours a day. They are human. And so are you. There will be surveillance, but technically, you two are on your own. The cell phone has an emergency number you can dial if they attack. It may take fifteen to thirty minutes to get to you if something happens, depending upon your position when an attack takes place. The FBI can’t tail you or Black Dawn will pick up on the fact. They will be stationed at certain points along the interstate, on alert, if you do need help. That’s the best we can do.”

Maggie squirmed. “I understand that, Casey. But why have us married? Why can’t we have separate rooms?”

“Because,” she said patiently, “Morgan wants Black Dawn to think we’re stupid enough to use such a ruse. We want them to think we’re inept.”

The news that she would be staying in the same room with Shep was a shock to Maggie. She’d never fathomed such a thing happening. It was simply too much for her to imagine. “But,” she protested, opening her hands in appeal, “I don’t see the wisdom of it.”