Pecker filleted with a butter knife.

Balls removed with flaming pinchers.

Starving hyenas feasting upon his privates.

And those were the least gruesome scenarios of what Guy McCann would rather be facing--or more accurately where he’d rather be at the moment, he thought with a smirk as he waited impatiently in Colonel Carl Garrett’s outer office.

Fort Benning, Georgia--the last damned place on God’s green earth he’d ever wanted to be again.

Though there was absolutely no true humor in the situation, he chuckled darkly anyway. A grenade of nausea sat in his gut, threatening to detonate and his entire body vibrated with the need to flee--to be anywhere but here. It was too much. Too hard. Regret, failure and grief twisted his insides until his fists involuntarily clenched and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, forcing away the image of his fallen friend.

Danny Levinson. Killed in action. His fault.

Guy released a small breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. While other people gazed across the beautiful grounds of Fort Benning proper and saw a rolling landscape dotted with enormous old trees, Guy only saw...hell. His own personal variety, because being here was like being plugged directly into the worst part of himself.

The last time he’d sat outside Garrett’s office it had been to barter for his freedom. He’d thought at the time that he’d be willing to pay any price, would grant Garrett any favor--the Colonel’s fee for pushing their clearance papers through.

He, Jamie Flanagan and Brian Payne--his friends and Project Chameleon partners--had been involved in an off-base brawl which could have held them up indefinitely and, considering that the Army had tried every way in the world to get the three of them to rethink leaving the military to start with, Guy had to admit that they’d handed them the perfect opportunity to make that happen. Garrett had pulled a hat trick and for that he would be forever grateful.

Grateful enough--grudgingly, of course--to even come back here for a week.

And it was only a week he reminded himself. Actually, less. Five days. He blew out a breath. Five miserable days, then the rest of his life would be his own and he could return to Ranger Security--their post-military career choice--a free man. Not free from the guilt, of course--he’d never get past that, wouldn’t allow himself the luxury--but free from Garrett and the military, at any rate.

It was a start, however feeble.

“The Colonel will see you now,” Garrett’s secretary said, startling Guy out of his unpleasant reverie. He nodded briefly at her, then stood and strode into Garrett’s inner sanctum.

An impression of power and the strangely comforting scent of cherry tobacco greeted him the instant he entered the room. Garrett sat behind a large gleaming desk, but found his feet and extended his hand as Guy approached.

Despite Garrett’s choice in their favors--Jamie had been sent to Maine under the impression that he would be guarding the Colonel’s granddaughter only to arrive and discover that he was supposed to pseudo-seduce her away from another man, and Payne had been dispatched to Gettysburg, the object of a bet, to retrieve a pocket-watch which had been rumored to belong to General Robert E. Lee--Guy had nevertheless always had the utmost respect for Garrett. He was a patriotic old war-horse whose piss-and-gravel voice had been honed on the battlefield, then later respected in the boardroom.

Furthermore, only a hell-raiser could recognize another hell-raiser and Guy had caught that reckless fuck-you identifying spark in Garrett’s sharp blue eyes the instant he’d first looked into them more than four years ago.

“So, how does it feel to be back?” Garrett asked, his face wreathed in a knowing smile.

“It sucks.”

Garrett chuckled. “Blunt as usual, I see.”

“Blunt works.” He settled himself in one of the chairs positioned in front of Garrett’s desk. “It doesn’t leave much room for misunderstandings.”

His expression remained bland. “It would serve you better tempered with a little tact.”

True, he knew, Guy conceded with a small shrug, but tact had never been his style. He’d walked on eggshells around his miserable old man until he’d gotten big enough to fight back. At that point he and tact had parted ways and Guy didn’t give a damn if they ever reunited. Wit, strength, luck and his ability to never mince words had served him well over the years. Being of the if-it-ain’t-broke-don’t-fix-it school of thought, Guy wasn’t interested in changing the status quo. The world could accept him for who he was or go to hell. It was as simple as that.

“I’m not here to receive a lecture on tact,” Guy told him. “I’m ruining your Sunday--and Gladys’s,” he added, jerking his head toward the outer office. “--because I’m here for instructions. I’m assuming you’ve got them?”

Garrett leaned back in his chair and scowled, his brushy brows forming an intimidating line. “If it’s all the same to you, McCann, I’ll set the pace for this meeting. You’ll get your instructions in due time.” He paused. “As it happens, we’re waiting on someone and I’d just as soon not have to repeat myself.”

A chill landed in Guy’s belly and all senses went on point. He arched a brow. “Waiting for someone?”

Garrett picked up a small crystal paperweight and carefully polished it on his sleeve. “Yes.”

When he failed to elaborate, Guy exhaled an irritated breath and asked the obvious question. “Who?”

“Julia Beckam.”

The name didn’t ring any bells of recognition, but for whatever reason, a warning sounded instead. Which was ridiculous, dammit. It was merely a name, that of the feminine variety, admittedly, but just a name all the same. Guy gritted his teeth, waited for Garrett to supply further information.

Naturally, he didn’t.

“Who exactly is Julia Beckam?” Guy asked tightly.

Garrett looked up. “She’s your co-instructor.”

A premonition of dread sent a wash of cold chills over his suddenly hot skin and his first instinct was to leap from his chair, tell Garrett to go to hell and leave Fort Benning so fast it would make the world spin in the opposite direction. Images of his newly shackled and affianced friends loomed largely in his mind, no small wonder considering they’d been taunting him with predictions of falling in love on his mission for Garrett as well.

Ironically, both Jamie and Payne had found the love of their lives while repaying the Colonel their favors. To make matters worse, he’d not only taken the ribbing from his smug friends, but had been forced to listen to their significant others--Audrey and Emma--gleefully ooo and goo over how fabulous it would be to see the wind knocked out of Guy’s sails.

Or more to the point, an anchor in the form of a ring around his finger.

Like hell.

A tornado of rage swirled around his brain, making it difficult for him to speak without growling. “I wasn’t aware that I had a co-instructor.”

Garrett actually smiled at him. “How would you when I hadn’t told you yet?”

Feeling every muscle in his body atrophy with anger, Guy shifted forward in his seat. “I think you’ve mistaken me for Payne,” Guy told him, his voice lethally controlled. “Honor and an unfailing sense of duty have never been my strong suit. I will not be misled like Jamie, nor lied to like Payne. In fact, you can safely assume that unless you level with me completely right now, then favor or not, I will walk out of here and you’ll play hell ever getting me back. I owe you. I know that.” He shot Garrett a hard look. “But I will not be manipulated.”

A beat slid to five while Garrett considered him. “The only manipulation I’m guilty of is leaving Ms. Beckam’s involvement in this training session a mystery to you,” he finally said, evidently opting to take Guy’s threat seriously. A good decision, since he’d been fully prepared to back it up.

“And you did that because?” Guy prompted.

Garrett shrugged. “Would you have come if I’d told you that a female relationship therapist would be teaching alongside you?”

“Hell, no,” Guy replied without preamble. A relationship therapist? He snorted. “You’ve paired me up with a shrink?”

“She’s a therapist,” Garrett corrected. “The daughter of an old friend of mine and she’s at the top of her field. Recent studies suggest that the dynamic between teams and couples share many of the same facets. Trust, of course, being the most important in both. A spouse who doesn’t trust or respect a partner leads to trouble. It’s the same scenario with our special forces teams. You know that. If you don’t trust the guy who’s giving the order, don’t respect him, then what happens?” Garrett pulled a face. “Everything goes to hell in a hand-basket. The chain of command is broken.”

He knew all about that, Guy thought, jerked back into a memory he desperately didn’t want to explore. Gunfire, the spray of sand, then Jamie topping the hill, Danny hanging limply in his arms. The image was permanently etched into his brain, almost as though it had been tattooed there.

It was the moment--no, the instant--that life as he’d known it forever changed.

He’d gone from being a bad-ass Ranger with a penchant for bending the rules just shy of the breaking point to a broken-hearted friend who no longer deserved the respect of his peers.

And trust? Sweet God. It was laughable. Garrett wanted him to teach other men how to trust each other when he no longer trusted himself? When it was Danny’s misplaced trust that had landed him in Arlington? Hell, he was the last damned person who should be teaching this particular subject. How on earth Garrett had failed to grasp that was out of Guy’s immediate understanding. The Colonel wasn’t ordinarily so thick.

Did he see the similarities between couples and teams? Certainly. But that didn’t mean he wanted to share the floor with a bonafide romantic--and she’d have to be to be in her profession, right?--and listen to her lecture about getting in touch with “feelings” and “emotions” and all that other crap.

He swallowed a roar and felt a tick develop near his right eye.

Garrett paused, seemed to be weighing his words. “The team which you will be instructing is Project Chameleon’s replacement, McCann. You are aware of the nature of the job, you know what’s at stake. It’s imperative that this team comes together well and is equipped with every necessary advantage I can give it. Presently, the benefit of your expertise and experience offers the best hope for its success. I realize that you don’t want to be here, but for the sake of the men I’m going to entrust into your care for the next few days, I’m counting on you to use some of that legendary skill for their benefit.”

Bloody hell. Project Chameleon’s replacement team? That’s who he was working with? He stifled a helpless laugh. Mother fu--

The door opened and Gladys peered into the room. “Ms. Beckam has arrived,” she said.

“Good,” Garrett told her. “Send her in.”

Because he didn’t appreciate the bomb Garrett had just dumped in his lap, or the Colonel’s tactics and because he was an ass, he neither stood nor even turned around in his seat to acknowledge Julia Beckam’s presence. It was rude and unconscionable and completely against his very nature--not to mention his mother would pinch the living hell out of him for being so disrespectful--and a host of other appropriate adjectives, but Guy was annoyed past caring.

Furthermore, now seemed like the perfect time to let Garrett and Ms. Beckam know that he was nobody’s lapdog. He was still here because he chose to be here and if at any time he changed his mind, he’d bail.

End of story.

Evidently realizing that Guy wasn’t going to be a gentleman, Garrett shot him an irritated look, then stood and rounded his desk. “Ms. Beckam,” he greeted warmly.

“I apologize for being late,” came a beautiful, almost smokey-sounding voice. “I was...unavoidably detained.”

The slight irritation he heard in her voice immediately begged the question “By what?” but since he’d cast himself in the roll of insufferable ass, he could hardly turn around now and probe, could he?

“No, problem,” Garrett assured her. “Former Lt. Colonel McCann and I were just catching up.”

He felt her gaze, heard her hesitate then, “Well, shall we get started?”

“Certainly.” Garrett found his place behind his desk once more and Guy felt Julia Beckam move into the seat next to him. A flash of static seemed to crackle around him, making him shift in his chair and a cloud of honeysuckle settled over him. It reminded him of vine-ripened tomatoes and hot, humid summers. Of home, on the very rare occasions it had been good. From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a long shapely leg peeking out from a navy skirt.

Shit.

Another glimpse revealed the outline of a very plump breast beneath a white silk button-up blouse. He mentally groaned and felt the room shrink.

Double shit.

Clearly a glutton for punishment, Guy finally turned to glance at her and, if the sight of her leg and breast had made the room shrink, then one look at her uncommonly beautiful face made it tilt. He experienced a violent hot-flash immediately followed by a quaking chill and his stomach did an interesting dive the likes of which he’d never felt before. A shot of adrenaline burst into his bloodstream and instantly headed for his groin.

High cheekbones, full pouty mouth, a nose that was a little too large for her face, but seemed to fit anyway and eyes the shade of a new leaf made her one of the most alluring creatures he’d ever set eyes on. She wore little to no make-up and her hair, though pulled back in a severe school-marm knot at the back of her head, was a pale blonde the shade of sun-light. The hairstyle and the clothes might have said “Take me seriously,” but the face and the body screamed an abbreviated version--“Take me.”

As though she’d somehow read his mind, her lips formed the slightest hint of a chilly smile. “Mr. McCann.”

Guy grinned and inclined his head. “Ms. Beckam.”

The pleasantries over, Garrett moved into Colonel mode and outlined what he expected of them. He handed a class outline to each of them. “As you can see, McCann will be in charge of the team building aspects of the curriculum and Ms. Beckam, we’d like you to focus on the emotional benefits of building a trust relationship.” He smiled. “These teams need to feel married in all but the biblical sense.”

Julia pulled a pair of reading glasses from her purse and perused the documents. There shouldn’t have been anything remotely sexy about that, but for whatever reason, Guy felt his dick get hard all the same. He squirmed and rolled his eyes.

Clearly it was past time to get laid.

“The two of you can get together and decide which exercises and lectures will compliment the other. In essence, you’re a team as well.” He slid a look at McCann and offered a pointed smile. “Might I suggest getting better acquainted over dinner?”

Startled, Julia looked up. Her gaze darted nervously between Garrett and himself and it was quite obvious that the idea of sharing a meal with him wasn’t what she’d like to do at all.

Which was probably why Guy grinned broadly at her and heard himself say, “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

Julia smiled weakly, but didn’t say anything.

“Wonderful,” Garrett said, evidently pleased. “For lodging, please check in at Olson Hall and they’ll get the two of you fixed up. Gladys has called ahead, so they’re expecting you.”

“Is that everything?” Guy asked.

“For now,” Garrett told him. “I’ll be checking in to see how things are going.” He glanced at Julia. “Ms. Beckam, if you have any questions feel free to give me a call, however I think that McCann will be able to field most inquiries. He’s familiar with the way things are run here on post.”

Julia nodded, shot Guy another one of those hesitant looks which said she doubted the credibility of that claim. For whatever reason, Guy got the distinct impression that she’d taken his measure and found him lacking.

Not the usual reaction he normally received from women--he didn’t have to beat them off with a stick, per se, but a smile and a wink usually did the trick. Could be that she was the exception to the rule. He slid her a brooding glance, intrigued beyond reason. Stranger things had happened.

Julia stood and shook Garrett’s hand. “Thank you for this opportunity, sir. I think you’ll be pleased with the results.”

Garrett smiled. “I’m counting on it.”

Guy acknowledged Garrett with a nod of his head, then followed Julia Beckam out of the Colonel’s office. She walked ahead of him without sparing him so much as a backward glance. Tit for tat? he wondered. Or was she simply that rude?

Time to find out.

“Do you know where you’re going, Ms. Beckam?” Guy drawled.

She turned and shot him a droll look over her shoulder. “No, but I have a map of the area in my car and, being as I’m neither blind nor stupid, I think I can figure it out.” She turned back around, purposely, it seemed, discarding him.

Both then, Guy decided, scowling. “How about I make it easy for you and you follow me?”

She didn’t bother looking at him. “Very chivalrous, but no thank you.” Chilly sarcasm hung like icicles in her voice.

What the fu--? “Do you need help getting that thing out?”

This time she did turn around and looked thoroughly perplexed. “What thing?”

Guy smiled sweetly at her, provoked past his normal limits. “The stick up your ass. I imagine it’s uncomfortable.”

A fleeting flash of hurt clouded her gaze, then she blinked and the usual chill emerged. She deliberately retraced her steps. “Let’s get something straight. I am perfectly aware of the fact that you don’t want to work with me. You made that abundantly clear the instant I walked into Colonel Garrett’s office.” She rolled her eyes, made an exasperated huff as though mystified and repulsed by the workings of the male brain. “I’m treading on your precious male territory, or ruining your ‘manly’ team-building exercises with my touchy-feely approach to trust-bonding and you’d just as soon not work with me.” She pinned him with a glare. “Well, newsflash, buddy. As shocking as it might be, I don’t particularly want to work with you either, but it’s a necessary evil and I’ve accepted it. I suggest you do the same.”

“When did you accept it?” Guy asked as a horrible suspicion rose.

She blinked, her tirade derailed. “Two weeks ago when Garrett informed me that I’d be working with you.”

Guy smirked at her. “Newsflash,” he said sarcastically, throwing the phrase right back at her. “I found out I’d be working with you two minutes before you walked into the room. I haven’t had time to ‘accept it’ yet.”

She paused, her clear green gaze considering and something about that look made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. “Now that’s interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Guy asked, unnerved by that probing I-know-something-that-you-don’t look.

She cocked her head and an infuriating little grin turned her lips. “That Garrett’s put a guy he clearly doesn’t trust in charge of a trust building class. Irony, I wonder,” she mused annoyingly. “Or something else.”

And with that parting shot she turned and walked away, leaving him to wonder as well.

About her.