Maggie clicked a button and a photo Hunter remembered all too well from a national newspaper appeared on the screen—a picture of his team covered in dust, riding those damn horses. His jaw tightened. He didn’t like where she was going with this. If their faces hadn’t been covered with bandannas, with only their eyes showing, that picture could have seriously affected his ability to do his job. The last thing he needed was a target on his back when he entered hostile territory.
“America wants to hear their story,” she said. “Similar to the accounts of the navy SEAL mission that eliminated enemy number one, I plan to take a detailed look at the Rangers’ ride and take the readers through these heroes’ actions step-by-step.”
Johnson shifted in his seat and sent Hunter a pointed look. Hunter met his commanding officer’s gaze. Message read, loud and clear, sir. Walk her through it without revealing details. Glaze over Logan’s mistake.
Hunter frowned. It was a crappy assignment. While his teammates hunted the enemy, he had to give interviews to a writer who thought he’d endured years of grueling training to become a damn cowboy. And to make a shitty situation worse, that writer had to be the one woman who’d left him wanting more.
“Look, Ms. Barlow, we’re prepared to give you access to the team of Rangers who completed this mission, provided Chief Cross acts as your liaison and you answer a few questions.” Major General Patterson spoke from his seat beside the podium. Hunter knew of the man. Based out of Fort Bragg, Patterson commanded the Special Forces teams, and his hard-ass reputation was legendary.
At the podium, Maggie smiled, and this time it touched her eyes. She thought she’d won, Hunter realized. If only she knew that working with him wasn’t going to be the all-access pass she had in mind.
“Do you honestly believe anyone will want to read your book?” Major General Patterson challenged.
“Yes, I do. I wouldn’t waste your time otherwise. The American public is fascinated by this story. When that picture was published, it was one of the most viewed items of the week. Working with my publisher, I’ve already begun using social media outlets to build on that excitement. Soon I will also be launching a blog to keep my readers interested until the book is available.”
A blog about his mission? Hunter’s frown sank into a scowl. Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.
“I assure you, I intend to write a book that will sell,” Maggie continued, her voice steady. “This book is important to me on a professional level, yes, but also on a personal level. Both my father and my grandfather fought for our country, and I plan to donate my royalties to charities that support veterans as they transition from war to everyday life.”
Across the table, one of the generals raised an eyebrow, as if to say who gives a rat’s ass what you plan to do with your money? Hunter turned his attention back to Maggie, watching her hands. This time they didn’t move. She just held on tight to the podium. She should be shitting in her pants right now, her hands fluttering like a hummingbird on speed. But nope, not this time. Not one sign of nerves.
She was in her element here, he realized. This was the real Maggie. Not the soft, give-me-orders woman he’d met Saturday night. The woman standing in front of him got under his skin, but not in a good way, not like his Little Miss Maggie from the car show. And the more she talked about how she wanted to turn his team into America’s Cowboy Heroes, the less he liked her.
“My publisher is excited,” Maggie said, looking directly at Patterson. “They agree with my strong belief that now is the perfect time to publish this book.”
“Yes, but your publisher is in business to make money,” General Patterson said. “We’re not. The United States Army has a duty to keep their soldiers safe. Once you reveal the details of our missions, what will prevent the enemy from placing our soldiers at the top of their hit list?”
The general’s words sank in. The idea that with a swish of her pen Maggie could prevent Hunter from doing the job he loved, from earning a living to support his sister, set his teeth on edge. He didn’t care how great she was in bed.
“I understand your concerns,” Maggie replied. “In my previous book, I used pseudonyms. The marines I interviewed felt this was fair and they were a pleasure to work with, as I’m sure your men will be.”
He heard the challenge underlying her sugar-sweet words loud and clear. “Ms. Barlow,” Hunter said. She looked at him for the first time since he’d sat down at the table. If he was going to take control, why not start now? Before she launched her blog. Before she skyrocketed him to the top of the Taliban’s kill list.
“Yes?”
He heard a hint of uncertainty in her voice for the first time since he’d entered the trailer.
“Forget about the marines.” He smiled, allowing his eyelids to fall slightly. Beside him, his colonel snickered, a sentiment echoed around the table. There wasn’t a man in here who didn’t know about Hunter’s orders, or his reputation with women. “Working with me will blow those guys out of the water.”
6
WORKING WITH ME will blow those guys out of the water.
Three generals, one colonel, her Saturday-night lover and the fate of her book stared at Maggie, waiting for her response. She blinked, allowing silence to fill the so-called meeting room. Her mind processed his words, but her body? It only heard a sigh-worthy
promise that reminded her of Saturday night. From the tingling place on the back of her neck to the tips of her toes, she felt his words like the precursor to one of his oh-heaven-help-me orgasms.
Judging from his sensual tone, he remembered his promise, too. And now he was using it against her. He was trying to derail her presentation with barely concealed sexual references. From the smug look on his face, he was waiting to see if she’d melt into a puddle of take-me-over-the-conference-table need.
But she refused to let the generals see how Hunter’s words affected her. The men at the table might not know about her prior relationship with her army-issued liaison, but decades of military service had fine-tuned their ears for suggestive comments. She’d spent years studying the military. She knew how these guys worked.
Maggie couldn’t afford to screw up now. She had to secure interviews with these Rangers or there wouldn’t be a book. Her publisher wouldn’t be happy about that. And without a book, she wouldn’t make tenure. She could kiss the promise of a secure future goodbye. Unless she maintained control of the meeting and her liaison.
The silence in the trailer stretched out, bordering on uncomfortable. She had to say something, but I’m never going to sleep with you again wouldn’t help her cause.
“Thank you, Chief. Let’s hope that is the case. With my deadline only months away, we’ll have to work fast.” Maggie met his I-want-to-see-you-naked gaze. What had happened to her Saturday-night gentleman? Had that been an act? Probably. “Your cooperation will make the interviews much smoother.”
“I won’t disappoint you,” he said.