“What do you want?” Shana didn’t know what else to say. Dane had warmed her, dissolved her plan to visit Cap—in spite of the outrageousness of his objections—with his warm breath and knowingly tantalizing mouth. But she was quick to recover and stepped back.

She saw the disappointment flicker in Dane’s eyes before his face transformed. His game face never failed to impress her. The quickness of the change in his demeanor stunned her, though she should be used to it.

And standing in the kitchen of the beach shack, still dripping and caught in that vulnerable position about to seduce her, Dane still managed to take control as he turned to face the two men in suits who’d been following them. They were standing in the doorway.

“You may as well come inside,” he said.

“Sorry to . . . interrupt, Mr. Blaise.” The slightly older of the two spoke as he opened the squeaky screen door and stepped inside.

He had gray temples and a tan to go with his dark suit and sunglasses. Dane would bet the shades were prescription. The man’s chippy partner followed. They both wore deep lines of concern between their brows, the kind that probably didn’t disappear even when they slept.

“I assume you fellas aren’t here for a cup of coffee.”

Shana scowled, yet remained blindingly gorgeous. The two men eventually dragged their eyes from her to answer him.

Taking a rectangular leather object from his pocket, which Dane knew was not a wallet, the partner in charge flipped it open and let it hang for more than enough time for Dane to confirm that he was Secret Service. Agent Liam Andrews to be exact. No big surprise. Dane wished he’d made a bet with Shana.

Andrews bent his head in the direction of his sidekick. “This is my partner, Agent Thaddeus Goodley.”

“So?” Shana said.

“How about a tequila, Agent Andrews?” Dane said.

He didn’t mind playing good-guy – bad-guy with the usual roles reversed. It was entertaining to watch Shana be the badass for a change. Although he wasn’t sure the two men would buy it. They would discover their mistake in due time. They would likely make the same mistake made by 99% of the men Dane had seen encounter her. The power of underestimation was enormous as well as entertaining.

“We want to set up a base here in your home for the duration of the President’s visit on the island.”

“I guess that’s a no on the tequila.”

Agent junior spoke up then. “We’re not playing games, Mr. Blaise.” He emphasized the title as if not being a federal agent made Dane inferior. At least he knew what type he was working with.

“Budget problems?”

Andrews answered. “We have information that you know the island and you have a certain background. And may have equipment available—”

“No.” Shana folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin. Her navy pumps were spread two feet apart and her spine was straight and rigid.

“You don’t—” Agent Andrews started a sentence Dane predicted would end with a pissing contest so he cut the man off.

“I’m going to make a phone call. You two can wait a minute.”

“Who are you calling?”

Dane heard the trace of trepidation in Andrews’s voice.

“An old Army friend. The Governor of Massachusetts.”

The agents’ faces remained stony. They had good training at the Secret Service. He left Shana with the two bricks. They stood in a triangle in the small kitchen watching each other.

Dane took his time. He walked to the end of the hall to his bedroom and changed into dry clothes first—a white linen shirt, cargo shorts and sneakers. Then he went through the door off the short hall into the living room that doubled as his office to use the special secure phone—what he liked to call his Bat Phone.

This was probably part of the equipment that Andrews was referring to. As he dialed up the Governor, Peter John Douglas, Dane hoped to hell Peter hadn’t sent these men to take over the beach shack. But how else would Andrews know about his equipment?

He knew he’d need to cooperate with the agents to some degree. This was the President’s safety at stake after all, but he had no intention of giving up control.

He lifted the receiver of the old-fashioned secure phone and punched in the Governor’s secure line. The phone on the other end rang. Dane waited. If Peter didn’t answer, he’d get the message and call back. Dane knew he’d be quick. The Governor had to be expecting a call. The ringing gave way to a standard voicemail message and Dane left his, short and sweet. His signature line.

“Dane on the line. Call me.” He slammed the receiver back into the cradle and stood looking at it.

He did not want Shana to work this assignment. Something about it bothered him. Maybe it was the two Secret Service guys showing up unannounced. Maybe he was getting squeamish about her on any case that could be dangerous.

Shana approached him from behind. She made no noise, but her scent reached him before she did. It was unmistakable. And far too arousing.

“Everything okay?”

“Peter will call back in a few seconds.”

“I heard you slam the phone.”

She came around to lean on the desk in front of him. Right where he could reach her, touch her, pull her to him.

“What did you do with Andrews and Goodley?”

“They’re admiring our view of the harbor. I told them not to touch anything, suggesting with my tone of voice that there may be booby-traps.”

Squelching the automatic smile wasn’t easy. He stood still as tiger poised to pounce.

She straightened from her leaning position. The move brought her close, but not touching. He felt her body heat. She caressed his jaw, drawing her hand over the stubble he hadn’t had a chance to shave off that morning. He knew she didn’t mind.

His blood rushed and he clenched the muscles in his back, across his shoulders, against the onslaught of desire. He took hold of her wrist and held it, pulled it away from his face. A man could only resist so much seduction.

She didn’t protest. No pouting from his woman. She’d never been a pouter. She’d been too good at getting even to bother. He sighed deeply and she stepped back. She knew what was what without being told.

“Don’t worry. We’ve got this. I’m taking a chance letting you do this as much as you—”

“Damn it.” He spoke the words under his breath. She’d known exactly what had been on his mind. For whatever reason that bothered him. Probably because he wanted her to think better of him, to know that he had faith in her, confidence in her, that he didn’t want anyone else having his back but her.

She smiled short of a laugh when she brushed by him. “Tell Peter I said hello. And to take care.”

The phone rang, that old-fashioned jangle that could probably be heard by the boats in the harbor out back. He snatched it up before she’d turned the corner out the doorway, while he watched her go.

“Governor.”

“I figured I’d hear from you soon. Tell me what’s going on.”

“You tell me. Why do I have two Secret Service agents here ready to install themselves in my home playing good-cop – bad-cop?”

He heard his friend sigh.

“I didn’t know they’d go that far. I mentioned you to someone I know. There’s a real threat on the island. I wanted the best man on the job. Are they reading you in?”

“No. I think we’re being played.”

“Damn it. See what you can do to insinuate yourself. We need you in on this.”

“Who’s we?”

“Me and at least one of our mutual friends in high places.”

He could have been talking about any number of generals. Or he could have been talking about a friend in the Department of Homeland Security. There could have been others. They’d both gained reputations and friends. Plenty of enemies too. Or at least Dane had plenty of enemies.

Peter John Douglas generally escaped enmity, especially by those in high places. Could have been his pedigree, but Dane knew it was more than that. The man deserved the respect he got. He was honorable and a class act. Never mind that he’d been just as deadly as the rest of the men on his special ops team back in the day.

“So you want me to cooperate. How far?”

“All the way. Don’t let them push you around, but I want you on this.”

Dane thought of what Shana would say next. She’d ask if there was any money in it, but Dane could care less. This one would be gratis.

“I’ll keep you posted,” Dane said.

“I’ll let you know what I find out on this end.” The Governor hung up.

Dane placed the receiver back in its cradle with care this time. His hand was steady, though the blood and adrenaline rushed inside him. He both relished and dreaded whatever was ahead. He strode to the door then, knowing he needed to embrace the challenge and not look back, not examine or question the decision. He was all in.