A Dangerous Engagement Read online

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  A Dangerous Engagement

  Candace Irvin

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  Published by Silhouette Books

  America's Publisher of Contemporary Romance

  For my aunt Pat, who reads it all and still encourages me.

  And for Diane, woman of great strength and courage.

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  UNITED STATES MILITARY

  TOP SECRET MISSIONS

  Navy Lieutenant Anna Shale:

  Penetrate the inner workings of infamous Panamanian drug lord Luis Ortiz…her very own cousin. Anna's connection to Luis makes her the perfect candidate for the job. Be sure not to let the sexy undercover Delta Force major get in the way of her work…or her future.

  Delta Force Army Major Tom Wild:

  The ideal man to bring down Luis Ortiz. Also out for justice since his fellow soldier was killed at the hands of Luis. The Delta Force major is dangerous, but he's on our side. Warn him against getting too close to Anna Shale…no matter how impossible resistance might be.

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  Dear Reader,

  This is a month full of greats: great authors, great miniseries…great books. Start off with award-winning Marie Ferrarella's Racing Against Time, the first in a new miniseries called CAVANAUGH JUSTICE. This family fights for what's right—and their reward is lasting love.

  The miniseries excitement continues with the second of Carla Cassidy's CHEROKEE CORNERS trilogy. Dead Certain brings the hero and heroine together to solve a terrible crime, but it keeps them together with love. Candace Irvin's latest features A Dangerous Engagement, and it's also the first SISTERS IN ARMS title, introducing a group of military women bonded through friendship and destined to find men worthy of their hearts.

  Of course, you won't want to miss our stand-alone books, either. Marilyn Tracy's A Warrior's Vow is built around a suspenseful search for a missing child, and it's there, in the rugged Southwest, that her hero and heroine find each other. Cindy Dees has an irresistible Special Forces officer for a hero in Line of Fire—and he takes aim right at the heroine's heart. Finally, welcome new author Loreth Anne White, who came to us via our eHarlequin.com Web site. Melting the Ice is her first book—and we're all eagerly awaiting her next.

  Enjoy—and come back next month for more exciting romantic reading, only from Silhouette Intimate Moments.

  Leslie J. Wainger

  Executive Editor

  Books by Candace Irvin

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  For His Eyes Only #936

  In Close Quarters #1078

  *Crossing the Line #1179

  The Impossible Alliance #1214

  *A Dangerous Engagement #1252

  CANDACE IRVIN

  As the daughter of a librarian and a sailor, it's no wonder Candace says her two greatest loves are reading and the sea. After spending several exciting years as a U.S. naval officer sailing around the world, she decided it was time to put down roots and give her other love a chance. To her delight, she soon learned that writing romance was as much fun as reading it. A finalist for both the coveted RITA® Award and the Holt Medallion, as well as a two-time Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award nominee, Candace believes her luckiest moment was the day she married her own dashing hero, a former U.S. Army combat engineer with dimples to die for. The two now reside in the South, happily raising three future heroes and one adorable heroine—who won't be allowed to date until she's forty, at least.

  Candace loves to hear from readers. You can e-mail her at [email protected] or snail-mail her c/o Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always, thanks to the following for bailing me out of my ignorance: Captain Norton A. Newcomb, U.S. Army Ret., Special Operations Intelligence Special Agent Dennis P. Leahy, ATF Ret.; LTC, U.S. Army Ret., Special Forces Ms. Helene Phillips Beharry, RN

  I'd also like to thank my editor, Allison Lyons, for not fainting when I pitched this one. As always, a special thanks to my awesome critique partner, CJ Chase, for putting up with me.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Prologue

  There is no road of flowers leading to glory.

  —Jean de La Fontaine

  Her past had finally come back to haunt her.

  She'd always known it would. She just hadn't thought it would happen quite like this. Anna reread the final, damning assessment in her cousin's psychological evaluation and closed the file. The claustrophobia returned even before she dumped the folder beside the others splayed out on the conference table, but this time, the noose tightened with a vengeance. Desperate to loosen it, she shot to her feet, kicking her chair away as she strode across the room. She stopped short at the potted palm and spun around. Unfortunately, the stifling claustrophobia was still there…and so were the files. To anyone else, the drab brown folder to the far left of that mug of coffee would have seemed innocuous enough.

  But it wasn't.

  For one thing, it was too fat. For another, it had her name, rank and serial number stenciled along the tab. Still uncomfortable with the intimate details she'd just read about her cousin's childhood, a childhood painfully entwined with her own, Anna shifted her gaze to the final folder. To the red one. The one marked Top Secret. The only one she'd yet to open.

  Dammit, why Luis? And why now?

  But she knew why, didn't she? Just as she knew that despite the outwardly cozy trappings of plush carpet, tropical plants and sleek high-backed leather chairs, this was no ordinary executive conference room. And that was no ordinary mirror. Anna glanced over the mahogany table, straight into the gilded frame on the opposite wall.

  He was watching her.

  Oh, she couldn't see him. The only thing she saw from here was the crisp set of Navy khakis she'd donned that morning. But she'd bet her soon-to-be tarnished lieutenant bars that Special Agent Foster was less than ten inches away from the opposite side of that one-way mirror, studying her every move, her every expression. She could feel it. By now every agent stationed at the San Diego branch of the Naval Criminal Investigation Service had probably joined Foster. Each of them waiting. Trying to determine where her true loyalties lay. And what her decision was going to be.

  What made Foster believe she could just show up in Panama after all these years unannounced? So she'd shared a shack with Luis until she was fourteen. Surely Foster didn't believe that meant Luis would automatically throw open his arms and accept her as the long lost-cousin she was? Except…Luis would accept her. Anna stared at the folder containing the psychological evaluation she'd finished reading minutes before. She didn't need some Navy shrink to tell her the Ortizes lived and died by their familial loyalties and misplaced sense of honor. The events of her own childhood had proven that. What she didn't have was proof that Luis was the heinous villain Foster and his NCIS commander had made him out to be.

  So open the damned file and find out.

  Anna marshaled her nerves and forced herself to cross the room. Chills rippled down her spine as her fingers brushed the telltale block letters that were the stock and trade of every other naval intelligence officer who'd come before her—Top Secret. Dammit, she could do this. She did it all the time. Except it had never hit quite so close to home before, had it? She shoved the thought aside. But as she
picked up the folder, a dozen five-by-seven color photographs spilled out. Stark, crisp color.

  Anna closed her eyes instinctively, but it was too late. She'd already seen the pictures. She'd already seen the blood. In addition to the standard surveillance shots, Foster had provided a photo for each of Luis Ortiz's victims. Those Foster claimed to know about, anyway. There was no mistaking how the poor souls had died. Each one had had their throat slit. Right down to the last man, woman…and child.

  Oh God, could Luis really be to blame?

  Anna shoved the memories aside and picked up the photos one by one. Swallowing the bile that threatened to swamp her, she opened the cover of the folder and carefully stacked the photos within. When she finished, she closed the folder and raised her chin. Only then did she turn and face the one-way mirror and the NCIS agent behind it, staring squarely into her Panamanian features for the first time since she'd been left in this room with nothing more than three files, a cup of rapidly cooling coffee and that single damning question. Was she willing to put her naval commission on the line—and perhaps her very life—in order to discover the truth?

  She nodded firmly. "I am."

  But for all her bravado, she had to wonder. What would happen when she came face-to-face with her cousin again for the first time in fifteen years? Even if Foster was right and Luis had grown into a monster, he was still family. Other than her father, the only real family she had left. Unlike her father, Luis had once risked everything for her, including his own life. If it came right down to it, would she be strong enough to betray that…and him?

  Chapter 1

  Three months later

  Luis was late.

  Tom Wild fought the urge to pace the hacienda's foyer with all the patience of a Cobra aerial gunship forced into a holding pattern five miles inside enemy radar range. It had taken his Delta Force team two precious weeks to set up this cover, not to mention calling in one hell of a marker. And now, when he should have been a handshake away from the most important assignment of his career, he'd been abandoned, barely inside the front door of this mausoleum, cooling his heels for damned near half an hour. If Luis Ortiz didn't show up in the next sixty seconds, he was out of here.

  Hell, he should probably leave now. Luis was supposed to be ripe for the picking. Desperate, in fact. Half an hour late didn't look desperate to him.

  Maybe their information was wrong.

  The stream of curses that had been simmering in his blood for the past thirty minutes finally vented as the sixty-second deadline came and went—with no Luis. The devil with it. Tom spun around and headed across the bloodred tiles that led to the front door. He'd wait the allotted time and then contact his local handler. It was time for them to regroup. But the moment he reached out for the wrought-iron handle, he caught the unmistakable scuff of footsteps. About time.

  He lowered his hand and took a moment to lock the distant but respectful smile Luis had responded to so well in place before he turned around. It wasn't Luis. It was the man's housemaid. Again. Son of a—

  "I'm so sorry, señor. I thought you had already been shown inside. If you please, follow me." Before Tom could argue, the woman turned, leaving him with a choice view of her backside encased in the drab green Luis seemed to favor on his house servants. The woman's sensible shoes scuffed along the tiles until she reached a set of double doors and what appeared to be the entrance to yet another foyer.

  Tom ground down what was left of his patience and took off after her. He'd wait five minutes more for Luis, not a second over. He'd been dancing this tango with the Panamanian bastard for four bloody days. The references he'd constructed for this job were impeccable. Not to mention he'd personally forced the Feds to plead down a Class A felony on a Class B thug back in the States to ensure it. He'd had to. He needed an in with Luis's organization. And he needed it now.

  Having come too far to turn back, Tom stepped through the double doors, discreetly casing the new room as he entered. This one was larger—hell, cavernous. Twin stone staircases flanked both sides of what was essentially an inner courtyard with a glass roof. The staircases stretched up to connect the opposite ends of a balcony lined with arches. The verdigris fountain centered below the balcony dwarfed him. It also explained the steady stream of bubbling water he'd heard these past thirty minutes.

  Tom scanned the stucco wall beyond the mermaid and her trio of gurgling fish and frowned. From almost the moment he met Luis, he'd known the man suffered from a terminal case of self-worship, in addition to delusions of dictatorship—or at least, political office. That god-awful marble bust confirmed it. Tom was still frowning when the maid reached the base of the staircase on his right and halted abruptly. He turned toward her, uncertain if the woman intended for him to follow or remain here. A moment later, he caught the scuff of another shoe. Like the maid's, this one came from behind. But this time, it was further away and up high. Luis?

  No, this tread was more a whisper. A woman's step. He was certain as the whisper grew into a series of soft taps.

  Heels. Luis's latest bed warmer, he'd wager.

  Tom turned again, but the stone mermaid and her trio of fish obscured his view. He stepped around the fountain only to find the side of the stone staircase equally unyielding.

  Her shoes came into view first. Off-white, with a modest two-inch heel, they were the most tasteful things he'd spotted in the hacienda yet. By the time the mystery woman's calves came into view, he'd grudgingly nudged his assessment of Luis's taste up a couple of notches. This mermaid was not made of stone. She sported a perfectly matched set of tanned, slender legs, too, with nary a fishnet in sight. The sheen on those limbs came from one hundred percent silken flesh. The matching off-white linen sheath covering the woman's thighs and hips came next and then the rest. Even as his body reacted to the generous nips and swells beneath that sleeveless dress, his mind pulled the threads of memory. Recent memory. The second they knotted into place, so did her face.

  Christ, no. Not here. Not now.

  The woman was in profile. Maybe it wasn't—

  The dread locked in as she lifted her hand from the stone banister to push a swath of gleaming dark brown hair past her shoulders as she continued down the stairs, offering him a lingering, damning view of the same slender neck and gently curving jaw he'd committed to memory from various photographs two short weeks ago. It was her, all right.

  Anna Ortiz Shale. The United States Navy's newest traitor. What the hell was Luis up to? According to the dates on the woman's airline tickets, he should have had another full week to secure his infiltration of Luis's network before she returned to Panama. Why hadn't he been warned?

  She reached the bottom of the staircase, rendering the burning question moot. He masked his shock along with his fury as she turned to scan the room. A split second later, he was staring into that dark, steady gaze.

  He forced himself to breathe. He was Army. She was Navy. They'd never run into each other on a joint op. The likelihood of her recognizing him now was extremely remote. And yet…that stare. For a moment, he swore she could see into his soul. Then, just like that, it was over. Whatever had happened, whatever she'd thought she'd seen, she'd shaken it off. She stepped off the staircase and crossed the courtyard, her heel clicking quietly across the flagstones until she reached the fountain. Until she reached him.

  She stretched out her hand and smiled. "Anna Shale. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Wild. I'm afraid I fell asleep after my flight this afternoon and just now woke."

  It was a lie. He wasn't surprised. After all, she'd been living one for over half her life. He wasn't even surprised the lie had slipped so easily off what he already knew to be an extremely glib tongue. But he was disappointed, because she obviously expected him to swallow it. Yes, her eyes were red. But her pupils were also dilated. Not to mention unfocused. And then there was her poise. While the effect was still regal this close up, it was also overdone. As if it took all her concentration just to hold herself
steady.

  Sleeping, his ass. The woman was on something.

  Pills, booze, shooting up—he couldn't be sure which.

  It didn't matter. He didn't even care if Luis had sent her in here with the authority to hire him on the spot. He'd be damned if he was going to strike a deal on something this important while the woman was as high as a kite.

  He'd be lucky if she remembered it—or him.

  Tom stared at the woman's hand, still extended, before meeting her too carefully schooled gaze. "It's nice to have met you, Ms. Shale. Tell Luis I couldn't stay. I'll see myself out." He didn't bother waiting for the shock exploding in her eyes to settle before he spun around. He was halfway across the courtyard before she caught up with him, her heels clipping frantically at his right as she grabbed at the sleeve of his suit. A suit he'd wasted on a no-show.

  And a stoned by-blow.

  "Wait! You can't just leave—"

  He swung around, taking full advantage of his height. Even in heels, the top of her head barely reached his chin. He had to hand it to the woman though—she held her ground.

  Her bravado probably came from the drugs.

  "Lady, I can. And I am."

  "But Luis—"

  "Screw Luis. Not only did your cousin have the gall to send a woman to do a man's job—after I was kept waiting for half a bloody hour—but the woman he sent is flying higher than the flag hanging from that pole out front. Your cousin needs a fuse man? He can find someone else. I've withdrawn my offer." Tom turned back to the double doors.

  "But…you can't."

  The hell he couldn't. And she had to know it. He kept walking.

  "Mr. Wild, please."

  He wasn't sure why, but he stopped. Maybe it was the huskiness in her voice. Maybe it was the distinct thread of panic. Did she need the buzz to keep from remembering what she'd done? Was she hooked on the stuff? Or did she just need it while she was here, living under her cousin's roof, drowning in the rancid muck of her cousin's life? Dammit, why did he even care? The woman had betrayed her nation. She'd murdered Manuel. Perhaps not personally. That, he couldn't be sure of. But he would find out. Eventually. It just wouldn't be today.