The terminal was thick with people either walking fast, milling around, or running full out for their flights. She maneuvered around people, the scents of food that made her mouth water and her stomach grumble, sheer bodies, and stairs as Bowie led her no doubt to her flight. She kept her head down, her anger growing with each step. The whole trip had been so mentally and physically exhausting, everything was catching up to her. In the distance, beyond the glass, the urban sprawl at the jungles edge, creating a haze in the air seemed almost surreal after the hard, harrowing trek. Her mind was on Bowie. He’d had such a hard childhood, and she could understand how everything he did had been dictated by the way he’d been betrayed by his parents.

But what he’d said to her was still reverberating deep inside. The guilt ebbing and flowing perhaps to the beginning of forgiveness. The dark thought that she may have stayed away on purpose, unable to bear the thought of her mother’s passing tortured her. Had she missed seeing her one last time because she couldn’t handle it?

And had she pushed away her grief and invited in the guilt to make her suffering all that more poignant because she thought she deserved it? Had her mother and father’s selfless life made it easy to transition into the one she led now? Barren and alone, even when she was in a relationship.

Like everything she’d done after her mom’s death, the travel, the less than perfect relationship, the inability to commit, the devastating stories. So guilty, so isolated in her grief. Had she punished herself by denying her own happiness?

It haunted her those words of his because she was beginning to think he was right.

When they stopped, she looked up, but instead of the security checkpoint, it was the doors leading outside to the rental cars.

She shot him a startled look but he was searching. She followed the direction of his stare. How could he have missed all that beefcake? Seven men standing around a black Hummer and a small sedan, Tank’s dog, Echo hanging out the window, his tongue lolling. And, my God out of their uniforms, without their war paint, helmets and all that freaking gear they carried, she realized that this was one gorgeous team. They hadn’t gone unnoticed, women were gawking, one woman walked into a pole, shook herself and then moved on.

Ruckus, oblivious, moved through the glass doors and headed toward them. Hope started to build in her, hope that Bowie had changed his mind.

They came to attention, the same kind of lethal focus she had seen in her SEAL many times. All she could think was “locked and loaded.”

Two of the men she didn’t recognize because they had been “covering their backs,” keeping their escape route open. The taller one looked menacing with his dark winged brows, but the crinkles beside his deep brown eyes made her think that he laughed often. The other one, Lord have mercy, was handsome as a movie star. “Wicked and Hollywood,” Ruckus said as he introduced the two of them. They nodded to her, and she completely got their call names.

Wicked looked like a devil and all Hollywood needed was adoring fans.

The others greeted her with a warm, new kind of respect and there was only one way they would have known that she deserved it.

Bowie.

She turned to him, and he growled, “This is the way it’s going down. The team is going to gear back up and head into the jungle outside of Santa Clara. You and I are going in as a couple to scope out the resort and find Salazar. Once we find him, we’re going to call in the team and tag and bag him. Then we’re going to get a chopper out of the airport. It’s already been chartered.”

She went to open her mouth.

But he cut her off. “You will do everything I say, when I say it. No arguments.”

Kid smirked. “You can talk now. That’s his I’m-ready-for-your-affirmative face.”

The other guys chuckled, but she just stared at him, working to keep her emotions in check. She wanted to kiss him in the worse way, wrap her arms around him and just hold him. Instead, she nodded and said, “Copy that, sir.”

That got more male chuckles and plenty of jealous looks from the passing women. She suddenly couldn’t stop the tears as she turned away, opened the passenger side to the sedan and slipped inside, surreptitiously wiping at her eyes. She felt like she was part of this team and now, instead of going for something purely for herself, she was going to assist them in taking one of the most notorious wanted Americans in the world out of the international equation.

It wasn’t long before the seven members of the team got into the Hummer. Ruckus settled into the sedan’s driver’s seat and started the car. Finally, she was going to get her memory cards and kick Salazar right where it hurt.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, she covered his hand where it rested against his big thigh. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Don’t thank me,” he said, “You earned it, cupcake.” He turned right and the Hummer went left. “We’re going to the mall to shop. We need to look the part.”

The mall was just as packed and it almost seemed claustrophobic to her to have this many people in one space after the wilds of the Darién.

“I don’t know the first thing about looking rich,” he said wearily.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ve got this covered. You go ahead and take care of the luggage, shoes, flip flops and a pair of deck shoes and the essentials you’ll need. We’ll have to smell the part as well as play the part. I’ll meet you back here in about an hour. She looked at him and rattled off his measurements.

“That’s right. How did you know that?”

“I shop for my dad. I’ll see you in an hour.”

She went to the men’s shop and got him a few pairs of cotton shorts, a white button down with black palm trees, and a couple of polos, one in blue to match his eyes. She also picked out evening appropriate attire, and figured he was a boxer brief kind of guy, controlled, but loose along with a pair of blue and white swim trunks. Just thinking about his lower body made her heart beat a little faster.

She got herself a couple of sundresses, shorts and tops along with evening clothes, underthings, sandals and flip flops. She chose cheap, but expensive looking jewelry. Then she went to the bath products store and indulged herself in some necessary nonessentials just because she wanted to smell like a girl.

With all that done, she beat him to the rendezvous. As soon as she saw him, it was evident to her that the women in Panama had really good taste. He was clueless to the female attention he was getting, and Dana couldn’t help a little smirk of satisfaction that she’d had him, won the big, bad Navy SEAL over. He was now allowing her to finish out this Darién Gap trip with a win.

Not to mention the capacity he’d shown for compassion, tough compassion, but he’d opened her eyes to what she had been doing all these years. She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to go back to her life without him in it. How she would change it to suit her new perspective. It was all so jumbled up and tangled now. Sorting through it would take some time. Hopefully, it would distract her from his absence in her life.

His intense gaze never left hers as he crossed the space that separated them. Her anger was gone, replaced with this gratitude. Would she always want more with this man?

“I found the food court.”

“That’s some amazing recon, sailor. Let’s go.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure you won’t miss the fish heads and the rice.”

“I don’t like being watched by my food when I’m eating,” she said with a laugh. “So, no. I won’t miss Mr. Fish head or for that matter Mr. MRE either.”

“Amen to that,” he murmured.

After eating they took the time to shove all their purchases into the two suitcases Ruckus bought, then took the sedan and stopped at the nearest hotel. She handled the room with her credit card and told him to go on up. She needed a couple more items she forgot. Heading to the shop, she ducked inside and bought what she needed.

* * *

Ruckus watched her disappear and felt just a twinge of worry. They were in a big city. There was no way the CLP would be hanging around a small hotel. She was safe.

Then he thought about what would happen if they both went up to the room together. He wasn’t sure he could keep his hands off her.

Thirty minutes later he stepped out of a steaming shower, happy to be clean, but not feeling as rejuvenated as he hoped. He knew part of that was the anxiety he’d tried to ignore, quite unsuccessfully. Dana in danger. That was a hard one to get his mind around when he wanted the opposite.

She hadn’t entered the bathroom and he was supremely disappointed by that. Not that they had the time.

He stepped out the door and found Dana stretched out on the bed, fast asleep. And thought it was also one of the best feelings in the whole world. The relief was greater than it probably should have been, but he was human. She was fine. That was all that mattered to him right now.

His body, however, was even happier, if its reaction to seeing her all flushed and relaxed was any indication. In fact, it felt quite rejuvenated. Perhaps a cold shower would have done him more good.

He hated to wake her, but he was pretty sure she’d rather use what little time they had freshening up rather than sleeping. There would be time for that when they got to the resort. Time for other things as well. He was struck by how little he really knew her. And by how badly he wanted to correct that. It would take a lifetime to know everything about her, but they only had a few more days.

He wondered if he’d made the decision to allow her on the op because he just didn’t want to put her on the plane and say goodbye. It was irrational. He was never irrational. Not when it came to missions. But getting involved with her in the field on an active op hadn’t been his brightest idea.

He rubbed the towel over his hair, wondering what she’d bought him. He wasn’t much of a clotheshorse. He glanced at her and smiled as he opened the case. She’d thought of everything, badass, by-the-stars navigator, would-be wrestler of gators, and champion shopper.

“Why are you smiling? I hope you like what I picked out,” she said, her voice all soft and drowsy with sleep.

He glanced at her in time to watch her stretch. His emotions were far too turbulent to deal with that temptation at the moment, so he turned and sat on the bed and started poking through the clothes. “I was thinking that if there was a prize for fastest shopper, you’d win hands down.”

“I don’t do things by halves, that’s for sure.” Her cheeks were a little rosy with sleep, her hair softly tangled around her face, her eyes a bit unfocused. And all he could think was that she struck him as the sort that called to him, quite strongly, to say the hell with clothes altogether and climb into the bed, right into her waiting arms, and into her warm and willing body. “It’s amazing how you got my size perfect.”

As if she was reading his mind, a provocative smile curved her lips, sorely testing his willpower. “Oh, I think I know your size.”

Yeah, fuck he fit her perfectly, his dick deeply sheathed in all that slick, moist warmth as tight as a glove.

He moved some soft fabrics and things lined with lace. Yeah, that stuff he didn’t need to be fondling right now. At the bottom, he found a pair of men’s shorts in tan. Opening the other suitcase, he found another pair of shorts, these ones black, and a blue polo. He pulled that out as well, then he saw the boxer briefs. She’d pegged him perfectly.

He held them up.

“Yeah, loose but controlled.”

He chuckled. “You are something, cupcake.”

She had slid to the edge of the bed. She yawned. “I hung up the evening stuff so it wouldn’t get wrinkled.”

“Evening stuff?”

“Yeah, you can’t go in to dinner looking like a freaking commando.” She tilted her head. “I think we did the rolling in the sheets part pretty good. The way I figure it, you at least owe me dinner.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’d say I at least owed you that. But, babe, I’m not exactly carrying around a wad of cash.”

She blinked then laughed. “Oh, right.” She stood, then looked provocatively over her shoulder. “I guess with your performance, I can buy you dinner. But you’ll owe me.”

He stood, too, the big bed between them. Stand tough, man, he told himself.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’ll owe you.”

She rummaged around in the case and skirted around him to the bathroom. It took his superSEAL control not to reach out, snag her and toss her on the bed. He folded his arms across his chest to keep his hands out of harm’s way.

He heard the shower go on and tried to block the mental images that accompanied the sound. “Fuck me.” Disgusted with his inability to get his head back on straight—and leave the other one out of it—he released the towel and tugged on the boxers. Then he pulled the polo over his head and donned the shorts, buttoning and zipping. Dressing in the clothes that she bought for him felt stupidly personal. Intimate even. “You are such a goner,” he muttered.

He raked his fingers through his drying hair and rubbed a hand across his chin. The growth of beard would have to go. He’d seen the clippers in the bag, but no razors. He tossed his old clothes into one of the pockets of the suitcase, then after another lingering look at the bathroom door, went to the balcony and contacted his team.

“Yeah, LT, were in a holding pattern.”

“Copy that.”

“So Operation Cupcake Drop has turned into just plain Operation Cupcake?”

“I can see why you were persuaded, LT,” Wicked said.

“Yeah,” Hollywood agreed. “She’s a freaking babe.”

“Keep it in your pants, Hollywood. Anything that breathes and looks that good sets you on the prowl,” Cowboy said.

“Hey, if she’s up for grabs.”

“Stop with the chatter,” Ruckus said, not exactly jealous, but proprietary of Dana.

“Yeah, LT has dibs,” Kid said.

Ruckus sighed. “Wipe that damn smug-ass grin off your face, Kid. The rest of you guys get your focus back on the mission. We’re going to need to move fast once we have him.”

“Yes, sir,” Cowboy said.

After he cut off communication, he sat down and leaned his head back. He could use a twenty-minute power nap.

The next thing he knew, the sound of a door opening brought him fully awake. She was coming out of the bathroom. He blinked a few times, then slowly rose to his feet. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but when she finally walked through the door, he knew he’d just been outclassed, outgunned and outdone. All he could do was stand there and remember to keep his jaw off the floor.

This is what happened when this woman had thirty minutes to spruce up. She’d gone in looking wrinkled, dirty, mussed, and warm from bed, looking imminently edible. Now, she was dressed to kill and he had to work not to be slain. She looked expensive and out of his league.

But what had made his jaw want to drop, was the silky blonde hair. She was wearing a wig and that made sense since Salazar knew what she looked like.

He liked her much better as a brunette.

She was wearing a red sundress that hugged every delectable curve. God help him to keep his hands off her. It covered her decently, but showed every dip and curve of her body, contours he wanted to run his hands all over.

She looked expensive, like red velvet with whipped cream and sprinkles, like come get me if you can all wrapped up in a seductive package. Talk about a sweet cupcake.

She came toward him, shaking her head. “That won’t do.” Taking his hand, she drew him toward the bathroom, grabbing the clippers along the way.

She positioned him in front of the mirror, plugged in the appliance and turned it on. She grabbed his chin, her brown eyes focused on what she was doing. But this close to her, he was surrounded by the most delicious smell to assault his nostrils. Damn, he wanted to drag her to the bed and bury his face in all that sweetness.

She sheared off the four days’ growth of beard. “We want elegant,” she murmured. She finished with the clippers, then reached into a bag on the toilet filled with girly stuff and pulled out a razor and small can of foam.

That’s where she was keeping them.

She lathered his neck and set the razor against his throat and he completely trusted her. The first stroke was clean and smooth. She turned, her neck looking so tantalizing as she swirled the razor in the small amount of water in the sink. When she turned back, he swore the bathroom had heated ten degrees. She took care of the rest of the hair there, then she reached for an aftershave, the citrus and sandalwood smell filling his nostrils. Hers flared. She smoothed it on his neck with a soft, gentle touch, then rubbed it over his stylish beard, her hands lingering. When she was done, they just stood there so close together, he could barely breathe.

He reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over her soft cheek. “You look amazing. Out of my league.”

She shook her head, raising her hand again to touch his face, but he grabbed it and brought it to his mouth. “I wish we had more time,” she whispered, her voice catching as he kissed her palm, the soft skin of her wrist.

“Me, too.”

He let her go. They were on a timetable, and his team was waiting. They needed to get this show on the road. Once packed they were moving at a good pace. The resort was located in Santa Clara, a beautiful Spanish inspired place to indulge your every whim, the ocean a sparkling jewel in the distance. He pulled up to the circular drive of the resort. Several bellmen immediately moved in their direction.

He smiled at Dana. “Show time.”

He could see the fatigue etched on her face quite clearly now and knew he didn’t look much better. But, before his eyes, she transformed. As the door opened, she offered her hand like a princess and the bellman took it, helping her out of the car.

Another one came around to the driver’s side to take his car as he popped the trunk for their luggage.

She was moving toward the doors, a spring in her step, those white high-heeled sandals making her legs look a mile long.

He caught up to her and put his hand on her lower back as the bellman held the lobby door for them.

It was time to get the package they’d been sent to pick up. Nothing was going to stop him this time.