Luke stood in the clearing outside the HERO Force chopper, clear black skies revealing bright stars. He was shivering despite the coat he’d thrown on, the smell of Mac’s cigar bringing back memories. He had smelled that damn thing at some of the worst moments in his life, and it was a mind fuck to be smelling it now, when all that shit was supposed to be behind him.

He stared at the chopper. Summer was inside getting the once-over from Razorback, and all Luke wanted to do was hold her in his arms and make sure she was okay.

He couldn’t forget the look in that bastard Walsh’s eyes when he was on top of her, Summer barely conscious on the ground. Luke had been overcome by rage, the protective, vicious kind of anger that took over where judgment and righteousness collide.

“Sloan’s got some bourbon,” said Mac.

“Nah.”

“You’ve got to calm the fuck down.”

“Don’t think I can.”

Mac’s cigar end glowed red. “That’s why you’ve got to. Right now you’re feeling like that woman is the only thing that can save you from yourself. But she just might be your downfall.”

“Are you giving me advice about women?”

“Why, because mine’s long gone? Only thing you’ve got on me right now is timing. My wife left me because I couldn’t handle life after the military. That woman is going to leave you because of your life in it. Difference is, she don’t know it yet, and you do.”

He clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell Mac he was wrong, that it didn’t have to be that way. That maybe there was hope for him and Summer yet. But what was there to say? That maybe he’d never tell her the truth? That maybe she would forgive him for what he had done?

He couldn’t keep silent forever, and she sure as hell wouldn’t forgive.

Goddamn son of a bitch was right. Luke should walk away, get in the van with the others who were heading back to headquarters tonight. Let someone else be this woman’s protector and set her free.

But he didn’t want to do that. Try as he might, tell himself what he may, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms—if she would have him—tomorrow be damned. Make love to her like he’d wanted to do since he first saw her face.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Mac.

“I don’t give a flying fuck if you do.” He walked the fifty feet to the chopper, Razorback stepping outside as Luke approached. “How is she?” Luke asked.

“I don’t think anything’s broken, but she’s going to be sore for a while.”

“Thanks, man.” Luke moved to the door of the chopper and knocked.

“Come in.”

It was toasty inside, but it was her smile that warmed him. Just to be in her presence made him feel better. He took in the bruises on her face and longed to kiss them away. He didn’t want to stare when the rest of the team was here, but now he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her. “How are you doing?”

“Okay. Some bruises, a minor concussion. Nothing that won’t heal.”

He sat across from her, bracing himself on his knees. She was battered and beat up and his heart wrenched at the sight. She’d put up quite a fight. She was something else, strong and capable under pressure, not weak or frightened as so many others would be. And he admired her, looked up to her for her courage in the face of danger.

But that wasn’t all.

She was beautiful and soft, feminine and pretty, possessing that simple grace he found humbling. The two sides of Summer together made an intriguing twist that had his pulse racing and his cock tightening in his shorts.

He had to get this straightened out. Had to figure out exactly what she wanted and exactly what he could give her. Straighten out his own damned head without damaging hers. “Most of the guys are going back to New York tonight,” he said.

“But we haven’t found the brancium.”

“I know. And if you want to keep looking, someone will stay to help you and keep you safe.”

“Not you?”

“No. I mean, maybe.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m not explaining this very well.” He laughed without humor, a pulse throbbing in his groin. “I will stay if you want me to, but I don’t just want to protect you, Summer. I don’t want to sleep in adjoining rooms and wonder what you’re doing over there, and I don’t want to pretend watching Jeopardy is the end of a nice evening. I’m getting my signals crossed. Looking at lines in the sand and thinking about running roughshod right over them. Lines that I damn sure better not cross.”

“What if I want you to cross them?”

“There are things in my past. Things you would hate me for if you knew.”

“Things you did as a soldier?”

“Yes.”

“Every soldier could say as much.”

“Not like this.”

She was quiet, and even as he waited for her to consider her answer, he knew it wasn’t a fair question. Hell, he hadn’t asked, but they both knew what they were talking about. Trouble was, he was the only one with all the information she needed to make a good decision.

“I’ve been living in the past for too long,” she said. “Struggling with hate.” She offered him her hand, twining her fingers with his. “I want to leave the past behind, at least for as long as we can.”

She felt so good, and he swallowed against a knot that had formed in his throat.

Could he let her overlook the past if she didn’t know what was in it?