They didn’t speak on the way. Mainly because Dane had shushed her with a finger over her lips. He’d stopped short of slipping his finger inside her warm wet sensual mouth, jerking his attention back to his driving as he swerved into the parking lot of the Vineyard Haven Market. She jumped from the Jeep, swinging the door open before he’d thrown it into park. No doubt she wanted to know why they were at the market instead of at the State Police Headquarters.

But he was wrong. She’d turned and walked for the front door and he’d had to jog to catch up to her.

“You know we’re being followed.”

A sparkling green glare was her response.

“I heard our Secret Service pals same as you. I get that they don’t trust us. I get that we’re going to sneak out through the deli and make our way to Cap’s back door.” She didn’t wait for him to open the door for her. This old store didn’t rate modern automatic-opening doors. But on the flip side, the employees maintained the old-fashioned practice of helping people outside with their groceries when they needed it.

“Well damn, girlie. You’re really on top of this operation.” He put an arm around her in spite of her squirrely attitude—maybe because of it. He’d always appreciated the challenge of Shana. He hoped to hell she would never change. But this was no time to dwell on their upcoming marriage.

They walked down the coffee and spice aisle, skirted two carriages accompanied by gray-haired women, and went for the stainless-steel door next to the deli counter. Dane nodded to Joe, his ex-marine deli man and part-time assistant investigator, as he walked past the man, gesturing with his chin to meet them in back.

Shana pushed through the swinging door and he followed her into the warehouse-like storage room. They turned right around the corner and met up with Joe in his white butcher’s coat and plastic apron.

“I have a feeling you two aren’t here for the baloney special.”

“We’re passing through and we’d appreciate it, if anyone asks, that you say you saw us in the cookie aisle.”

He nodded, looked like he wanted to ask, but knew better.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can. Stall.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shana pulled on his arm and they went down some stairs and out the back door into the delivery area. No one was about. Shana started jogging and he followed. He was starting to think she was too eager, like maybe she wanted to be in charge of this mission.

“How much time do you figure we have?” She spoke without effort as they ran down a side street and took a corner into a residential neighborhood. He had no idea how the hell she ran in those heels as if they were part of her anatomy.

“After half hour waiting for us to come out the front door, they’ll go inside and look for us and then they’ll ask around and figure out we went through the back.”

“Joe will never tell them,” she said.

“They’ll figure it out anyway. And they’ll know where we went and so I figure we have thirty-five to forty minutes tops before they show up at State Police Headquarters with a full head of steam. We’d better be gone by then.”

“They’ll have some nasty words for Cap if we’re not there to yell at. They won’t believe him when he tells them we weren’t there.”

“Cost of doing business.” Dane shrugged. “Cap is a tough man.”

“Chances are the Governor’s already filled him in.”

“Either way. We’re filling him in.” Dane started breathing heavier. It was all the talking while running. He wasn’t used to that.

“What are we going to tell him?”

“About these two Secret Service agents moving into the beach shack and about the terrorist cell threat.” Dane slowed down. State Police Headquarters was in sight across the street. They needed to slip around back and make sure no one saw them. He paused at the edge of the street in the shadow of an oak tree. Shana stopped with him. here

“I bet it’s a man and woman pair. Whoever they’re going to send. A couple. And they look as American as apple pie.”

Dane smirked.

“You playing my game, girlie? Speculating with certainty?”

She shrugged, but her cat-green eyes and compressed grin made her look like she’d eaten that poor canary. They darted across the street and across a lawn and headed for the back of the Cape Cod house that held the state police headquarters on Martha’s Vineyard.

Dane knocked on the back door twice and then took out his key. Cap had given it to him a couple of years ago when he’d first worked a case on the Vineyard for the Governor. It had been the first time he’d worked with Shana. He shook off the memory before he got schmaltzy about it.

Since when had he gotten sentimental? It was a dangerous habit to pick up in his business.

Dane opened the door carefully, making sure no one was in the back hallway before going inside. He held Shana by the arm. Needlessly, but she didn’t pull away from him. They slipped into Cap’s office unnoticed and closed the door behind them.

Cap was on the phone. He stood when they appeared in his doorway, aiming a questioning look at them. Dane closed the door and kept his face inscrutable. He’d wait until he had his friend’s full attention. Shana pulled away from him and walked to stand front and center. She had a tendency to be impatient. Dane kept his smile to himself.

Cap got the message and hung up the phone after he mumbled an excuse to whoever he was speaking with. Dane looked at his watch. They had seventeen minutes. Including eight minutes to run back.

“We have nine minutes.” That was for Shana’s benefit in case she thought of exchanging pleasantries. He took a seat in one of the two uncomfortable chairs while Shana sat on the edge of the other.

Dane told Cap everything concisely and in a clipped voice, starting with the Secret Service following them on the beach up to running from the supermarket. He checked his watch. In seventy-six seconds.

“I got a heads-up call earlier from Peter,” Cap said. “I would have called you soon. Looks like it’s a good thing I didn’t, if what you suspect is true. That they have you under surveillance.”

“How much did Peter tell you?”

“Everything you told him. And about the terrorist cell threat soon to arrive.”

“What makes you think they’re not already here?”

He said nothing.

“I think it’ll be a man and woman,” Shana said. “A couple on vacation. Could be here now. Or not. They’ll be impossible to spot.”

“You’ll know what to look for once you’re bird-dogging the President.”

“What if they know we’ll be watching and they’re smart and hit early. Or only show up once, the time they’re going to hit.” Dane wasn’t asking. He knew that would be the way.

“Once you get the itinerary, you’ll need to figure the most vulnerable appearance.”

“What if they don’t care about getting out and they just set a bomb—Boston Marathon bomber style?” Shana asked.

Cap said, “We’ve got that covered. We’ll have more dogs sniffing around here than hamburgers to feed them.”

“God damn.” Shana stood, hands fisted. “Are we saying this is a losing proposition? If so, why are they allowing the President to come here?”

Dane pulled her back down to sit and tugged on a stray lock of her hair. He loved the long blond wavy tresses. He stopped himself from pushing his hand through her mane. He’d likely lose himself there.

“Don’t fret, darlin’. We got this. There’s a reason the President hasn’t canceled the trip in spite of the threat.”

“You thinking it’s bogus?” Cap asked.

“No. If Peter, the damn Governor who makes it his business to know these things, and who’s plugged into people in high places so he can know these things, thinks it’s a credible threat, then it is.”

“Then what?” Cap sat back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head as if waiting for Dane to tell him a story. Shana gave him her signature suspicious scowl.

“They’re setting a trap. In fact, there’s a possibility that the President visiting the island will actually be the President’s double.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Shana withheld a snort. Barely. “The President’s double? I never heard of such a thing.” She stood again and stalked around the office.

Cap rocked forward in his chair to sit straight.

Cap hadn’t spoken, but his face looked like the cover of a weighty book, hiding all kinds of complicated machinations. Dane waited for the dust to settle. He had no choice. His mind was quick, the meal on the table before others had the time to assemble the ingredients and cook up the recipe.

“This is serious,” Cap finally said. “What you’re suggesting is wildly speculative.”

“We don’t have time to go into it.” Dane looked at his watch. “Not now. But trust me. There’s no way in hell the President would put himself in the line of fire except to set a trap.”

“And there’s no way the Secret Service would let him play bait.” Cap took a deep breath. “But still—”

“We have to get out of here.” Shana glanced at her Apple watch, a new toy she was determined to put to good use.

Dane stood. She was right. Andrews and Goodley were bound to be on their trail by now. And so far, the Secret Service was one federal law enforcement agency he hadn’t managed to piss off. Maybe he could keep it that way. Not that he cared. But Shana worried about it.

He stepped into the hall with Shana behind him close enough for him to smell her old-fashioned Chanel No.5. Before he could let the scent overwhelm his senses and take over, he heard loud voices coming from the front entrance.

“Shit.” The two suits had caught up with them. Aiming for the back door, he said, “Keep up with me.”

They half ran, slowing to a walk whenever anyone came into sight, through the same side streets, residential neighborhoods and backyards until they reached the parking lot of the grocery store. They slipped inside, rushed through the back storeroom, and pushed through the double doors into the deli area. By the time they swung around to the customer side of the glass case, Dane had made eye contact with Joe, an ex-marine deli man and part-time assistant investigator.

Shana slipped her phone from her small bag, still looking cool, but overdressed for shopping at the deli, and tapped in a number. He assumed she was calling Cap. Dane moved to the end of the counter to talk to Joe and she followed, nodding her head and listening.

“What’s up?” Joe asked.

“You see two guys in dark suits come through here?”

“You mean one tallish and one short, looked like Secret Service?”

“Those are the ones.” Dane half smiled.

“About eight, ten minutes ago. They looked around, had a short, tense conversation, then left a couple minutes later.”

Dane nodded.

“I won’t ask what’s up. ‘Bove my pay grade, I figure.”

Shana shoved her phone back into her bag.

“They’re on their way back. Left three minutes ago with an attitude. Cap told them he hadn’t seen us. He said to tell you the count is up to three cases. Dare I ask three cases of what?”

“Sure, but then I’d have to—”

She was looking over Dane’s shoulder when her chin went up. “Trouble at twelve o’clock high.”

“What do you think? We’re in a war movie?” He felt the approach of the two oppressive men and wondered if they knew how obvious and un-secret their presence was wherever they went.

“Where the hell have you been, Blaise?” Dane turned and stood in front of Shana, taking the full glare of the pair of scowls. Since they didn’t have their weapons drawn, neither the menacing look Andrews gave him nor the smirk from Goodley had any effect whatsoever.

Joe handed him a pound of baloney and he displayed it for Andrews. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You’re up to something. I know you went to see Lynch.”

Dane pushed past him.

“Where are you going?” Goodley said.

“Why bother asking?” Shana took Dane’s arm and walked with him. “You’re going to follow us anyway.”

“Meet us back at the house. Be there in ten minutes and don’t make us come looking for you.” Andrews was pissed. Dane looked over his shoulder to smile at him. He noticed Joe watching, arms folded. Now that Joe already knew something was up, Dane might enlist the old marine’s help with this one.

On the way to the Jeep he slipped out his phone and punched in Sassy Stephens’s number. He didn’t care if he was being listened to. They’d find out about it soon enough.

“Sassy, it’s your boss. I have an assignment for you.”

“Really? I mean, sure. What’s up?”

“It’s a babysitting assignment.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.

“Actually, it’s more like a house-sitting assignment. I need you to get over to the beach shack pronto and let yourself in. Pack for ten days.”

“Got it. Ronnie will be disappointed—”

Shana grabbed the phone from his hand before he had a chance to answer.

“Bring Ronnie with you.”

“I would have told her the same thing if you didn’t grab the phone from me.”

She put a hand over the phone. “Since when are you a romantic?”

He gave away nothing of his confusion, but he didn’t know what to say about his being a romantic or not, because he had no idea what she was talking about. A full second passed without a word.

“That’s what I thought.” She spoke into the phone again. “But don’t wait for Ronnie. Get over to the beach shack right away.”

“Great. This works out perfectly.”

“I know. You rented out your place.”

“Do you and Dane know everything?”

He smiled, leaning over her shoulder to listen in, he took the opportunity to breathe in her scent and nuzzle her neck She elbowed him.

He grabbed the phone back. “See you later, Sassy—oh, one more thing. We have a couple of Secret Service agents as house guests. They’ll be bunking in the office on cots. Set them up for me. You and Ronnie take the guest room.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Sassy, I need you to keep an eye on these two when Shana and I are out. We’re counting on you.”

“Yes, sir.”

He signed off and they stood in the parking lot leaning on the Jeep, neither of them anxious to get inside.

“You’re going to have Andrews and Goodley bunk in the office on cots?”

“Where else? It’ll serve them right.”

“It’ll also be a good test to see how motivated they are to stay with us. I think the more willing they are to share tight quarters, the more suspect and nefarious their motives are.” Shana relaxed back with a satisfied look.

“When did you get to be the smart one in this partnership, girlie?”

She slapped his arm. “I have fresher brain cells is all.”

Dane hated when their age difference was obviated.

“We need Sassy to get there before Andrews and Goodley. I hope she knows how to pack faster than you.”

Instead of rolling her eyes as he’d expected, she gave him her mock deadly stare. Shana was learning and evolving. He felt a twinge of disappointment. He didn’t want her to change. Not too much, not from the woman he’d fallen in love with.

He pulled on her hair, twirling a lock around a finger. She didn’t tug it away from him and her look softened. If they stood this way, close and staring—simmering wasn’t too strong a word, even in the parking lot of the grocery store—they would start smoldering. He took a breath. Hell.

He wanted to smolder. He wanted to shove the Secret Service and the terrorist cell threat and all of the damn Beachcomber Investigations business off the deep end of a pier and spend his time smoldering with his soon-to-be bride.

Had he gone completely soft? What the hell was wrong with him?

Before he let on how he felt, before how he felt got any more obvious or insistent, he let go of her hair and stepped back from Shana “Kryptonite” George.

The damn President had a terrorist cell threatening assassination. It didn’t get any more important than this. Even if it was the President’s double visiting the island instead of the actual President, he and Shana had to do their part to shut down this cell.

The Secret Service wanted Dane and Shana to play a distraction at best and a target at worst, if Dane’s suspicions were correct.

“Let’s go visit the Gables’ and take a ride in their boat.”

Shana nodded. “Andrews will be royally pissed if we don’t show up in ten minutes as commanded.”

“An extra bonus.” Dane smiled.

Shana didn’t argue or even accuse him of being a smart-ass or lecture him about how this was the kind of attitude that got him in trouble. She was smart enough to know that this meant he suspected with a high degree of certainty—his normal paranoia aside—that the Secret Service or other federal law enforcement agency had the beach shack and their other usual hangouts bugged. That included their phones.

And now that Agents Andrews and Goodley were installing themselves at the beach shack, they’d probably find a way to compromise their secure phone too. As Shana had smartly pointed out, why else bother to stay in such close quarters?

He jumped into the driver’s seat of the Jeep. Shana jumped into her side and turned up the radio as soon as he started the car. Then she leaned over and whispered loudly enough he shouldn’t have bothered.

“Are you going to evade when they follow us?”

He nodded.

“No. It won’t do them any good once we get out on the boat.”

“Not worried about involving the Gables?”

“Risk we’ll have to take. I suspect the agents know all about our ties with the Gables if they’ve done their homework with any degree of competence.”

Dane drove slower than usual so he could spot their tail. He didn’t figure it would be Andrews or Goodley and he wanted to get a look at who else the Secret Service had on them.

He drove the whole way with the windows wide open blowing a mind-numbing breeze through the vehicle. He hoped whoever was listening enjoyed the sound of rushing air and loud music because that’s all they would hear.

They arrived at the Gables’ estate-proportioned home, pulling up along the curved drive stopping under the portico at the front door. Dane signaled for them to leave their cell phones in the car. Shana nodded and removed hers from her small bag and tossed it next to Dane’s on the seat. He hoped they didn’t melt in the heat inside the car, but he shrugged it off. Cost of doing business.

Instead of ringing the front doorbell, Dane took Shana’s hand and pulled her around the house to head out back to the expansive patio overlooking the ocean. As he suspected, they found Gable and Mrs. Gable dressed in white and drinking something frothy as if they were waiting for the cameras to arrive to shoot a scene from The Great Gatsby.

“Look who’s here. I know from experience this is not a social visit,” Gable spoke as he stood. He took his glass with him, celery stalk and all. There was nothing but excitement sparkling in the man’s eyes. Or it could have been the effects of the morning’s bloody Mary.

“Don’t pretend you’re offended by the imposition,” Dane said.

Laura Gable swept her arm toward the chairs, inviting him and Shana to sit. They remained standing.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Gable said. “I’m offended that you think I was pretending to be offended.”

“Enough of the silliness,” Shana said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

If Dane didn’t know better, he’d think Shana had Big Ben clanging away on her shoulder, urging them on.

“I need your boat. Shana and I need to go for a ride.”

Gable stood there sipping his drink, apparently waiting for more, but Dane wasn’t inclined to give him an explanation.

“Now.” He didn’t mind bossing the billionaire movie mogul around a little. The man was a deep-down fan of his and not a bad guy behind the curtain of fame and fortune. His wife was a peach. She looked unsure of the situation and looked at her husband to answer.

“Okay. Under one condition. I pilot the boat.”

He would have argued, but Shana jumped in, squeezing his arm to hold off his objections.

“That’ll work. Let’s go.”

Gable looked smug enough for Dane to punch his face if he hadn’t remembered he normally liked the man. He had to get his surliness under control. He didn’t have Big Ben on his shoulder, but he felt the weight of short time and high stakes—and something else—setting him on edge. It wasn’t the usual tightrope walk of obvious danger he was used to. This was the kind where something wasn’t quite right, something was out there, but not visible, and he knew it but went out there for a walk anyway.

Once they lit a fire under Gable he was all business. He grabbed his coat and a mail pouch full of small yacht essentials, then headed down to the water and the dock where his dinghy was tied. The yacht was moored less than 100 yards off the end of the dock.

Most people would have kept their yacht at a marina. Not Gable. He kept his nearby because he went out often. He came by his boating pastime genuinely, not as an affectation of wealth. This was one of the points Dane posted in the man’s favor. So far Gable was in the black on Dane’s score card of who owed who how much, but the card wasn’t full yet.

When they got to the yacht and boarded, Dane sat in the main salon with Shana on the long white leather couch. They’d been in the salon of a yacht before on a case, but Dane preferred not to dwell on that violent encounter. The engines purred as Gable piloted the boat out of the harbor.

“How far out do you suppose we need to go?” Shana asked.

She sat forward with her elbows on her knees, looking at him sideways. Her hair fell in lush waves, some tendrils falling across her face, obscuring her eyes in a sexy peek-a-boo way. He slid up against her, meeting his hips to hers and feeling the contact like they were two magnets—hot magnets. The attraction was strong and their body heat so high he was surprised there wasn’t steam coming off the spot where they touched.

“I figure a fifteen-minute ride ought to do it.” His voice came out huskier than he’d wanted it to. This was serious business. He needed to have a powwow with the Governor. The Secret Service men had proved they weren’t trustworthy, proved they didn’t trust Dane and Shana. And last, but not least, they had proved that they didn’t intend to let Dane and Shana do a thing they didn’t know about. They had something in mind for Dane and Shana and they were telling them very little of what that part was.

“This is nerve-wracking,” she said, leaning into him.

“What? The boat ride?”

She didn’t snort or punch his arm or laugh at his joke. Instead, she gave him the full deep and open depths of her green gaze with nothing held back. Her vulnerability was breathtaking.

“Knowing the Secret Service is keeping us under their thumb to use us for some purpose and not telling us.” She paused. He ran his thumb across her full lips, her cheekbone, her temple. He wanted to kiss those plush lips, wanted to kiss the worry out of her, wanted to promise her everything would be all right, that he’d protect her. He had her covered. But he didn’t because she would hate it.

“We can’t trust them, Dane.”

He touched his forehead to hers and pushed his fingers through her hair, wrapping a hand behind her neck and holding her with the other.

“I know. We got this.”

She grunted a laugh then because he’d thrown her words back at her.

There was no way in hell he wanted Shana in this with him. But there was no way in hell she’d let him go it alone. And in truth, he’d be lost without her, wouldn’t he?

“Don’t try and do this without me.”

She was a mind-reader, but he wasn’t going to let her know that.

He pulled her in for a tight hug, for himself as much as for her. It lasted until Gable came down the stairs from the pilot house.

“How far out do you want to go or do you have somewhere in particular in mind for this joy ride?”

“Another five minutes worth and then anchor it.”

“Aye-Aye, captain.” He saluted Dane and went back up to man the controls. Lucky for Dane the man was big on intrigue. He’d have to crush Gable’s hopes eventually, but it was necessary. He couldn’t let his billionaire movie-mogul friend in on this action and had mixed feelings on having involved him this far.

But sometimes you needed the help of friends to get the job done. Dane, in spite of his unworthiness, had always had good friends and he’d been a team player since his special ops days. Peter had had a hell of a time breaking him from his loner inclinations, but he’d done it. And Dane had been a team player ever since—with one minor breach, a dark time Dane couldn’t afford to think about right now.

Instead, he slipped his phone from his pocket and put it on the glass cocktail table where it clicked loudly.

“Ready to call?”

“No. I can’t use either of our phones for this call.”

The engines shut off, eliminating the low-level drone from the background. A beat later he heard the chunky metallic sound of the anchor lowering. Gable came down the stairs again, this time he took a seat opposite Dane.

“Now tell me what this is all about. No one will be listening out here.”

“Give me your cell phone.”

Gable’s eyebrows knit, but he did what he was told. Dane took it.

“I can’t read you in on this one, my friend.” Dane’s face reflected his implacable seriousness.

Gable looked stunned and leaned back.

“Then what’s this all about? You taking advantage?”

“Yes, but it’s for a good cause.”

Gable looked at Shana. “You in on this?”

She nodded, giving nothing but a serious-as-an atom-bomb look.

Gable looked like he’d been hit by an atom bomb, but Dane couldn’t soften it for him, didn’t want to get cajoled into anything by this squirrelly business man who Dane knew for a fact was used to getting his way in all things.

“Leave us alone. We’ll need ten minutes or so, then we can get back.”

“That’s it?”

Dane nodded. He held the phone and he held his ground and said nothing more, just waited for Gable to acquiesce. Finally, Gable stood and walked with uncharacteristic stiffness from the room.

Shana said, “He’ll get over it.”

Dane shrugged. “He will or he won’t.”

“You’re a tough bastard.”

“I’ve had to make a lot of tough decisions in my life, tough sacrifices, in the name of the mission.”

She nodded. He watched her eyes go distant, retreat from him. When she would have pulled back he reached out and put an arm around her shoulder, reeling her in.

“You’re not one of those sacrifices, girlie. Never will be.”

“I know.”

He bent his head to kiss her to make sure she knew. To make sure he remembered. He’d been too hard in his past, made some mistakes on his tough decisions. He didn’t want to make those mistakes again. He lifted his mouth from her warm familiar lips and lifted her chin with a finger.

His heart pounded unnaturally. It wasn’t the usual adrenaline. It felt more like fear. The kind of fear you would get from walking across a tightrope. Not a completely unfamiliar feeling, but it was out of place here. He’d already made up his mind. He knew what to do. He shifted and turned his attention to the phone and dialed up the Governor.

“What’s wrong?” Peter hadn’t let the phone finish its first ring.

“I was hoping you could tell me. Other than the itinerary, they’re not giving us anything. We’re being used as far as I can tell.”

“For what?”

Dane flicked his eyes at Shana and answered.

“As a distraction. A target at worse.”

“I’d tell you you’re being paranoid and far-fetched, but this one is giving me concern. On my end.” Peter stopped as if he were unsure—and this was a man who was never unsure.

“What does the chatter say?”

Peter took a breath and said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a local terrorist cell with some money but lacking in expertise—and possibly nerve—went on the dark web and hired a professional hit team.”

Dane paused. Shana gripped his arm. His heart thudded a deadly loud and fast beat. He wanted to ask Peter when he’d planned on clueing him in on this, but he knew his friend would eventually have made sure he found out one way or another.

“Any idea who the hit team is—aside from the fact that they’re probably posing as a couple of tourists?”

“That’s what you figure? A couple of tourists? No official word yet. I had to pry the intel I got from my source. I owe him my next two unborn children. I’m not sure I’ll get any more.”

“You want me to play along with this charade?”

“I want you to prevent an assassination attempt. So does my source.”

“Even if the attempt is on the President’s double?”

Dead air buzzed in his ear, which Dane was prepared for.

“You’re too damn good sometimes,” Peter finally said.

“That your answer?”

“Prevent the assassination attempt so no one else knows the President sent his double. The prevailing wisdom is that it would be a disaster if the public found out.”

“Not as big a disaster as if the President got himself killed.”

“That’s right. I like how you’re keeping your eye on the prize. Remind yourself that every time the Secret Service team pisses you off. I don’t want any calls complaining about you punching anyone.”

Dane heard the unsaid, unless you have to.

“Yes sir. Any more words of wisdom?”

Peter gave him a subdued snort that passed for a laugh.

“I’m glad you’re backing us up. If it were up to me, I’d have you playing lead on this, but no one’s appointed me Director of Homeland Security.”

“Not yet. But then that’s not the title you’re going for, is it?”

“Another conversation for another day,” Peter said.

Dane signed off. Shana was on his left shoulder, literally hanging on every word of the conversation.

He wrapped her in his arm before she had a chance to pull away. He wanted to have this conversation with her up close and personal.

“Serious business,” she said.

He nodded and studied her jewel-green eyes. They were wide open with seriousness, determination, worry, and awe. There was no hesitation or backing down from the challenge in those eyes. She stared right back at him.

“As serious as it gets.”

“We’re up to it.”

“No shit.” He showed one dimple. If he and Shana weren’t up to it, then they were all in trouble. The Governor had as much as told him they were counting on him to save the life of the leader of the damn free world.

He wished like hell Shana was in Australia and he was handling this on his own.