“This is bullshit,” Guy said in his usual blunt fashion. “I can’t believe you’ve agreed to do this.”

Payne collected his bags from the trunk of the Guy’s car and set them on the curb. Rather than leave his SUV parked in the dubious care of airport security, Payne had asked Guy to give him a ride this morning. If he hadn’t needed to pack another bag and take care of a few niggling business details, he could have exited the flight with Garrett and immediately hopped another towards Gettysburg. As it was, he’d needed a few hours to pull things together for a week’s absence. “We all agreed, remember?”

“We agreed to do a favor. You don’t think this is a tad over the top? First, a flirting mission for Jamie, now a freakin’ treasure hunt for you?” He snorted. “What’s next?”

Payne chuckled, shot his friend a you-poor-bastard look. “That’ll be your problem, won’t it?”

Guy grimaced, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. This is... This is ridiculous, even for Garrett.”

“We gave our word.” And no matter how futile paying back this favor might seem, it was still worth it. Getting out of the military had been the best thing for all three of them.

“I know that, dammit,” Guy snapped. “I’m not balking. I’m just annoyed.” He passed a hand over his face, then smiled. “At least I don’t have to worry about you running off, getting married and becoming a seasonal worker.”

Payne almost smiled. “Definitely not.”

Though Jamie was still a partner and participated in the day-to-day operations at Ranger Security, he did it from a significant distance. The business was based in Atlanta and Jamie had recently taken up residence in Maine. His new wife’s business was head-quartered there and, while Jamie would never admit it for fear of being henpecked, both he and Guy knew that he preferred the quiet shores of Lake Bliss to the bustling city proper of Atlanta. In fact, it was quite obvious that their friend, the ultimate former player, was happier with Audrey Kincaid Flanagan than he’d ever been with anyone in his life.

He and Guy had teased him ruthlessly about it, of course, because they’d formed a pact in college to remain bachelors, had even come up with three hard and fast rules to resist the possible temptation of falling in love. One, never let a woman eat off your plate. Two, never spend the whole night with her and three, after the third date, cut her loose.

Jamie had succumbed to all three a few months ago, and typical of a newly shackled man, was happily imagining he and Guy’s downfall as well. “You’ll see,” he’d told them. “You pitying bastards think you’ve got it all worked out. You don’t. When the right woman comes along, she’s gonna blow those rules outta the water and you’re not going to know what’s hit you. Believe me, I know,” he predicted direly.

He couldn’t speak for Guy, of course, but Payne knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there wasn’t a woman alive who could knock him so far off his game he’d marry her. He wasn’t so arrogant to think that he might never be tempted into falling in love--he wouldn’t tempt fate by even thinking something like that--but he knew himself and his own resolve well enough to know that he damned sure wasn’t going to permanently attach himself in front of God and witnesses and, most importantly, the Court to one.

Frankly, he had better sense.

Granted marriage definitely seemed to be suiting Jamie, but he and Jamie were two completely different people. Despite Jamie’s previous stint in serial dating, Payne had always detected a bit of a longing for a family in Jamie.

When Danny, their good friend and comrade, had died in their last covert mission for Uncle Sam, things had only worsened for Jamie. Understandably, of course, considering that Danny had taken his last breath in Jamie’s arms. He and Guy hadn’t known that unfortunate tidbit until recently, but once they’d found it out many of the things that Jamie had done--withdrawing from them, going through girls like air--had begun to make sense.

That was the only thing about Danny’s death that made any sense, though, Payne thought as a familiar pang of loss squeezed his chest. Getting out of the military had become a mission in and of its self after that had happened, which was why they’d all landed themselves in Garrett’s debt to start with. They’d been provoked into a barroom brawl--off-base, no less--by an arrogant ass who’d mouthed off about their fallen friend. The incident could have held up their clearance papers indefinitely, but Garrett had found a way to push them through.

His price, of course, had been the favors.

Payne released a small breath. Which was why he now found himself packed and ready to go to Gettysburg in search of a freaking pocket watch Garrett a.) only thought existed and b.) apparently wanted bad enough to send him to get it. Civil war buff, hell--the man was obsessed.

And he was a former Ranger, not an errand boy, but his word was his word. Growing up in an unstable home where he heard more lies than the truth, Payne valued honesty and structure above all else. Did he like Garrett’s request? No. But it didn’t change the fact that he owed him.

Payne shouldered his hanging bag, grabbed his laptop case and turned to face Guy. “Call me if anything comes up.”

“We’ll be fine,” Guy assured him. “Jamie and Audrey are flying in tomorrow.”

Since Audrey’s season at Unwind--her de-stressing camp for burned out exec’s, harried mothers and the like--was officially over, she and Jamie were going to play snowbirds and head south for the winter. Or at least part of it, at any rate. Jamie would work here on-site until her season started again, then they’d head north once more. “I’ve offered them my loft for the week,” Payne told him.

Guy closed the trunk. “Jamie told me. They’re going to go ahead and move their stuff into my place. A lot of Jamie’s things are still there, and they didn’t want to go through the hassle of moving downstairs once you got back. You’re fine with that, right?”

Payne nodded, secretly relieved. Just as well, he supposed. Frankly, he preferred his privacy and, while he knew there was nothing in his loft he didn’t mind them seeing, he still wasn’t altogether comfortable having anyone in his space. Odd, he knew. He’d certainly shared more than an apartment with these guys over the years. Still...

“I’ll be in touch,” Payne finally told him, dreading this with every fiber of his being, but anxious to get it over with nonetheless. The sooner he found the watch--or didn’t, whatever the case may be--the sooner he could get back to Atlanta and get back to work. While he’d enjoyed his time in the military, Payne had to confess that he’d slipped into civilian mode without incident. Structure was structure no matter where one put it into practice, he supposed.

Guy chuckled. “Happy hunting.”

“Smart ass.”

“Hey while you’re up there, why don’t you see if you can find the Holy Grail as well?”

Payne chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “You’re time’s coming,” he reminded him. “Remember that.”

Guy winced, suddenly serious. “Trust me. I’m not likely to forget.”

He supposed not, Payne thought. And considering what Garrett had put he and Jamie through, Guy had every reason to worry. God only knew what sort of hellish favor he’d ask of him.

To hell with it, Payne thought, making his way into the terminal. He just wanted it over with.

And the sooner the better.

 

*   *   *

 

Emma dutifully called her mother the instant she deplaned to let her know she’d arrived without incident and, head down, was shoving her cell phone back into her bag when she suddenly collided with something big, hard and warm...and were it not for the equally big, warm hands clamped upon her upper arms, she would have toppled gracelessly to the ground.

After emitting a very unladylike grunt, followed by a stinging curse, she looked up into the face of her savior and wished that she had fallen.

Directly into a black hole.

Cool winter blue eyes stared down at her and the hint of a smile lurked on a pair of lips which instantly put her in mind of slow deep kisses and hot frantic sex. She’d seen his mouth from a distance, of course--like the rest of him--but this up close and personal view was wreaking havoc in places that hadn’t had so much as a mild uprising in over a year. A warm tingle started in her midsection and radiated outward until it zinged hotspots which would undoubtedly love his carnal mouth’s singularly focused attention.

He had a reputation for being cool, detached, focused, methodical and fool-proof and Emma would be lying if she hadn’t nursed a secret crush of sorts, a secret fantasy of being on the receiving end of that sort of ...unwavering attention. He wouldn’t merely seduce, he would consume and the idea of being absorbed by the mysteriously aloof Brian Payne was almost more than she could handle.

Furthermore, she’d expected to run into him in the course of her quest, but she hadn’t expected it to be in the literal sense.

At the airport, no less.

Still, she thought, reminding herself to breathe, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She knew he hadn’t gotten the jump on her, for starters.

“I’m s-sorry,” Emma finally stammered awkwardly. She drew back, righted her purse and carry-on bag.

“No problem,” he told her, that cool gaze assessing her, causing little hot-flashes to blink in rhythm to a mental warning light. “You’re not hurt, I hope.”

Emma felt a sheepish grin tug at her lips. “The only thing aching at the moment is my pride, but it’ll recover.”

The comment drew a vague smile. “You look familiar,” he said, seemingly trying to place her. “Have we met?”

Mildly panicked, Emma shook her head. “Er...no, we haven’t,” she answered truthfully. They hadn’t been formally introduced...but they might have met in passing once or twice.

“My mistake, then.”

“Er...well, thank you for catching me,” she said, deciding it was time to end this little chat. She readjusted her bags, and started to move around him. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Before he could puzzle anymore over where he might have seen her, Emma sidestepped around him and made her way down the concourse. She could feel his gaze boring into her back, knew that he was only a few paces behind her without looking over her shoulder to see--she could feel him. She determinedly ignored the prickly sensation tingling at the nape of her neck, the restless heat suddenly swelling below her bellybutton and forced herself to think of something else.

The money did the trick.

She needed it too badly to let herself get sidetracked by a set of cool blue eyes and impossibly wide shoulders.

Since she hadn’t checked any baggage--had managed to cram an entire week’s bulky winter wardrobe into her carry-on--she avoided baggage claim and made her way past the luggage carousels, directly to the car rental counter. From the corner of her eye, she watched Payne snag a single black suitcase from the conveyer, then scan the various rental company signs until he found the one he wanted.

Unfortunately, it was hers.

Shit.

Another one of those almost-but-not-quite implied smiles haunted his lips as he sauntered toward her. “We meet again,” he said. A gratifying flash of appreciation flared in those wintry eyes.

Emma managed a weak grunt, which she was sure matched her equally weak smile. She wanted to have a general idea of his whereabouts and what he was up to, but having him tail her gave him too many opportunities to try and place her. Given his reputation, she knew if he made the connection it wouldn’t take long for him to get suspicious, then confirm his suspicions and then the one advantage she’d had would be lost.

And that would be bad.

Rather than wait for the clerk to ask for her name, Emma pulled out her ID and handed it to him before he could ask. “I’m in a bit of a hurry,” she said, hoping to spur the guy along.

“Certainly.” He scanned his computer screen, then winced. “You reserved a sedan. Unfortunately, we’ve overbooked and only have a couple of vehicles left.”

Emma tamped down her initial irritation, felt Payne’s interest shift from her to the car rental clerk. “What do you have left?” she asked, pleased that her voice didn’t climb right along with her blood pressure.

He stroked a few keys, poked his tongue in his cheek. “Looks like we’ve got a Hummer and--“ He peered at the monitor, then looked up at her and grinned, showing enough metal in his mouth to power a small country. “--and a VW Bug. How about I put you in that one?”

Emma’s initial reaction was to say yes, the Bug would be fine--truth be told she’d always thought they were adorable and, were she able to afford a new car, the VW was definitely what she’d want. But something about the clerk’s automatic assumption that she wouldn’t want--or couldn’t handle--the Hummer pricked a nerve. Furthermore, while the idea of her behind the wheel of the Bug was appealing, the idea of putting Payne behind it was even more so. She felt an evil smile tease her lips and had to forcibly resist the urge to look at him.

Emma cleared her throat. “What happens to my rate?” she asked. She had to be practical, after all. “Will it go up?”

He shook his head. “No, not since we weren’t able to accommodate your initial reservation.”

Emma smiled brightly. “In that case, I’ll take the Hummer.”

Though he hadn’t so much as moved a muscle, Emma could feel Payne’s displeasure bouncing off her, pinging her like sonar. Though it could only be her imagination, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

Evidently the clerk felt it, too, because his chrome-like smile faltered. “It’s an awfully big ride, ma’am,” he said, giving her a quick once over. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in the Bug?”

Yes, she probably would. But he would be more uncomfortable in the Bug and, at the moment, Payne’s discomfort was a lot more appealing. Furthermore, she might be small, but she was more than capable of handling the Hummer. She mentally rolled her eyes. Hell, it couldn’t be any more difficult than manning a tank.

“I’m sure,” Emma told him. “In this instance, size matters,” she said and thought she heard a little choked noise beside her. She winced, hoping to pull off a little vulnerability. “I’d feel safer in the Hummer.”

“Of course,” he said, albeit reluctantly. He expelled a small breath and, looking as though he knew the coming exchange with his next customer was going to be unpleasant, printed out the necessary paperwork and handed her the keys. “I’ll let them know that you’re coming,” he said, indicating the outside staff.

Emma grinned, snagged the keys and turned to leave. Her gaze tangled with Payne’s and the commingled flash of irritation, suspicion and grudging admiration she saw in those twin blue pools made her belly tip in a wild roll. He knew what she’d done--that she’d purposely chosen the Hummer to thwart him--and it suddenly occurred to Emma that her petty act of unwarranted revenge might have thrown up a red flag.

In front of a legendary bull, no less.

Oy.

“Drive safely,” he murmured silkily as she walked past, his voice laced with an edge of menace that she found curiously thrilling.

Never one to allow herself to be intimidated, Emma merely cocked a brow. “You, too,” she said, then without sparing him another glance, stomach trembling, walked away.