She held it out. aTake this.a He glanced at her, and wisely didnat make any kind of comment about the fact that shead told him to keep both hands on the wheel. He took her jacket and covered himself.

It didnat help.

Five miles wasnat enough.

Sam had run hard, pushing the pace until Jenk and WildCard started to whine. Theyad both been up too late the night before, WildCard surfing the Internet, and Jenk with some woman head met at the hotel, in town on a business tripa"lucky little son of a bitch.

Sam had slept badly, too, but he didnat have as good an excuse.

He hadnat seen Alyssa Locke once since head left the hotel for PT with a small group of the other SEALs early this morning. Yet ever since head stepped out the door, head had this little jangly sixth sense buzz that made him believe she was out there, watching him.

Somewhere.

As Wolchonok led Jenk and WildCard back toward the hotel, Sam picked up his pace and headed out toward the Lincoln Memorial. On a hot, restless morning like this, with the humidity starting to build and the weather threatening to storm by the late afternoon, he was good for at least five more miles.

If he tried to go back to the hotel now, without running any farther, head jump out of his skin.

He ran faster and faster, with that little jangle still making the hair on the back of his neck twitch, before he realized what it was exactly that he was trying to do.

He was trying to shake Locke.

Not so that he could lose her, but just so that he could see her.

He was dying to see her.

No, he was dying to do more than that.

Yeah, like that was ever going to happen.

Still, a man could dream. He could talk to her, watch her face, look into her incredible eyes, and carry that memory with him when he went back to the hotel to take a shower.

But Sam lost her before he got close enough to see Lincoln looming over him. He didnat know how he knew it, but he knew that she was gone.

He circled back, retraced his steps.

And there she was.

Sitting on a bench, bent over, head way down between her legs, like she was going to faint or barf or both.

Sam sprinted the last few hundred yards. aYou okay?a Her eyes were tightly shut, and she didnat open them. aGo away.a She was soaked with sweat. That was no big surprise, he was drenched, too. But she was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, while he wore only a pair of running shorts.

He touched her neck, checking her pulse. She was much too hot and her heart rate was too high. She was on the verge of overheating.

aWhat the hell are you doing wearing all these clothes?a He pulled her T-shirt up. She was wearing a colorful running bra underneath it, so he yanked the shirt over her head.

aHey!a A reaction. Thank God. It wasnat time to call the ambulances. Yet.

He pulled at the waistband of her sweats anda"Jesusa"she had shorts on under there.

aWhat is wrong with you?a he asked, as he half lifted her up, peeling the sweats down her legs. Damn, she had gorgeous legs, with mocha-colored skin that was smooth as silk. He tried not to touch her, aware of how uncool it would be to take advantage of her that way, yet wanting to just the same.

aGet away from me!a She kicked him feebly in the leg.

aThen do it yourself.a She struggled to get her sweatpants over her feet, and Sam impatiently grabbed her running shoes and pulled them off.

And there she was. Alyssa Locke. Dressed only in a barely there pair of running shorts and a yellow sports bra. aI donat need your help.a At least shead had the good sense to sit on a bench that was in the shade.

aDonat move,a he ordered her, and sprinted back to where head run past a hot dog cart. Four plastic bottles of water cost the entire ten dollar bill he carried in his shoe. Damn. He could practically guarantee that when this was over, she wasnat even going to say thank you.

He opened one of the bottles, took a slug himself as he dashed back to Alyssa.

He shoved that bottle into her hands as he opened another and poured it on her.

aHey,a she sputtered, adonat get my cell phone wet!a He took it from her, stuck it in her sneaker, then kept going. He used the third bottle to drench her T-shirt and wrap it around her head.

Then he sat next to her, opened the last bottle of water, and took a drink.

aJust answer one question,a he said. aJust one. You live in DC. You know how hot it can get. It had to be in the high seventies before we even left the hotel. Why the hell did you even think youad need sweatpants on a day like today?a She looked at him. And she leaned one arm along the back of the bench, stretching her legs out in front of her. Even with her T-shirt tied around her head, she was amazing to look at, with those five-mile-long legs and all that bare skin showing. She wasnat stacked, not by any definition of the word, but in his book, huge breasts were way overrated.

Alyssa Locke managed to be both athletic looking and delicate.

Sam had a real thing for delicate.

She was all woman, and even though he knew she was going to smack him any minute, Sam couldnat keep himself from looking at her. Somehow he managed to keep from drooling. But just barely.

aThatas why,a she said.

It took him a minute to realize what the hell she was talking about, but then he understood. Shead worn sweatpants even though it was promising to be a million degrees today because she didnat want to stand out in the crowd.

Jesus. That was one hell of a problem to have.

aYou should wear light colors,a he said, thinking aloud. aShorts that are longer than thosea"the dorkier looking the better. And Iave seen these lightweight T-shirtsa"theyare kind of like a really fine mesh. Air goes right through them.a aI have that stuff,a she told him. aI just havenat had time to do the laundry in about three weeks.a She reached down and picked up her cell phone, checking to see that the power was still on.

She was waiting for a phone call.

Sam looked at her closely. She looked exhausted, and not just from the heat. She had circles beneath her eyes, as if she hadnat slept well in a long time.

He watched as she put her shoes back on, as she stared at her phone again.

He would have expected her to be talking up a storm, in self-defense. Explaining that shead never let the heat get the best of her before, trying to turn this into no big deal, deflating the situation so that head have no story to tell when he got back to the hotel.

Instead, she was a million miles away.

Someone wasnat calling her. Someone was keeping her from sleeping at night. It had to be a man. Some complete jerkoff who needed his head examined.

aSo, whatas up?a he asked. aSomethingas going on with you. What is it?a She turned to look at him, and for a fraction of second, he thought she might just tell him. But thena"as if she suddenly realized who she was talking to, a shuttered expression came into her eyes. She shook her head.

It was just as good. He wasnat sure he was feeling up to hearing about Wayne or Alfonse or Joey or whoever the hell was messing with Alyssa Locke. In more ways than one.

aWant to share a cab back to the hotel?a he asked.

She got defensive. aI can walk.a Screw that. aIam taking a caba"or at least I would if I hadnat spent all my money buying water to pour on your head. I know saying thank you is outside your abilities, but the least you could do is pay for the freaking taxi.a aIall pay you back for the water, of course.a Oh, Jesus. aI donat want you to pay me back for the water. I want you to pay for the cab. And then I want you to sit with me. In it. Okay?a Somehow she nodded. Somehow they made it to the street where they flagged down a taxi.

They rode to the hotel in silence, and Locke paid the fare.

aThank you,a he said to her in the lobby. aLook, Iam going to be over at the K-stani embassy until probably around thirteen hundred. Thatas when my watch ends. Weare doing only four hours ona"Paolettias trying to make this kind of like a vacation for us, so . . . Anyway, you can relax for those four hours. Maybe even get some sleep?a She checked her phone again.

Or . . . maybe not.

aI wasnat going to faint,a she said. aOut there. You know. I was fine. I didnat need your help.a Jeez, she was worse than some of the men he knew. aOkay,a he said easily, exactly the way he spoke to the guys when they hit some kind of physical limit and wanted to pretend that the entire world didnat already know about it. aGlad to hear it. My mistake. See you later.a Sam turned to go.

aThanks, Starrett,a he thought he heard her say.

But then again, maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Nils drove in silence.

Meg was sitting as far from him as she possibly could, while still being in the front seat of the car.

Why didnat you call me when Daniel died? Nils kept his teeth tightly clenched over the words. Now was probably not the best time to ask her that, although, god damn it, he really wanted to know.

She wouldnat look at him.

Taking off his clothes had worked to get him into the car, but now that he was here, she wouldnat even look at him.

And it was drafty.

He had to get something to wear.

He knew he should be talking. He should be sending out a continuous stream of words, trying to talk her into seeing the logic of letting the FBI do their job, of turning herself and Razeen in.

But he was exhausted. Just sitting here in a car with Meg beside him was harder than hell. Head made so many mistakes in the past, he needed to do this right.

And he didnat know how or where to begin.

In the past, head made the mistake of thinking that being with her would be enougha"that things would work out if only they could share the same air in the same room for long enough to have a conversation.

Head thought if he could simply convince her to let him escort her to that embassy party, head have a chance. A chance for what, he wasnat sure. To set their friendship back on track? To sleep with her? To frigging marry her? No. Yes. Maybe. Christ, he didnat know. And maybe that had been a part of the problem.

And thinking that simply getting together with her would fix everything had been about as wrong a thought as head ever had.

Instead of clarity, things had gotten even more muddy and confused.

The party at the embassy had started at 2000 hours.

It was a postdinner birthday celebration for the K-stani ambassador. It was more than politically correct for Meg to put in an appearance since most of her freelance translating work came out of the birthday boyas office. It was a necessity for her to show.

Nils had planned to go with her. It was the closest thing to a real date that theyad madea"even though it wasnat real and it wasnat a date. It was work. She was working and he was simply her escort. His job was to wear his dress uniform and look good. And to make sure that the K-stanis wouldnat be affronted or offended by the concept of a woman showing up at an official function all alone.

Shead left an apology on his voice mail at the hotel, canceling their plans, and head called her back. Going to this thing scandalously alone would be nearly as potentially damaging to her career as the implied insult of not going at all.

Surely she could trust him to behave himself at a formal function, in a crowd of hundreds of people?

Shead finally relenteda"after head told her that the inquiry was set for the morning. And that tomorrow, after that inquirya"whether it was postponed for the five millionth time or nota"he was going wheels up. He was going to meet the rest of SEAL Team Sixteen on the other side of the world. He couldnat tell her specifics, couldnat say for how long head be gone.

But he was leaving. And Meg had agreed to see him that one last time.

Head picked her up at 19:45, and theyad taken a taxi to the embassy.

She looked beautiful, dressed in a formal black gown and a modest jacket that kept her shoulders and arms covered. She wore her hair up and more makeup than head ever seen her wear before. She looked elegant and sophisticated. Remote and untouchable.

She looked like Mrs. Daniel Moore.

She hadnat looked at Nils once, not once that entire endless taxi ride.

But he offered her his arm as she got out of the cab, and she finally met his gaze. There were tears in her eyes but she blinked them back. And she smiled, although tremulously.

aDid you have to look so good tonight?a she whispered.

aDid you?a aThis canat happen,a she told him.

They were out on the sidewalk in front of the Kazbekistani embassy. He hadnat yet shut the cabas door. They could still get back in, blow off this party, go back to Megas apartment and . . .

aIt canat, John,a she said as if shead been able to read his mind.

Nils nodded. Closed the taxias door. aI know.a aIam sorry for what I did yesterday.a aDonat be.a They started up the stairs. Meg still held his arm, and he put his fingers over hers. They were both wearing gloves, but that didnat matter. He was touching her.

aIam sorry for a lot of things,a she said as they went past the checkpoint, as Meg handed the K-stani guard her invitation and Nils took off his hat and gloves. They went through the metal detectors and into the embassy lobby.

aMaybe after this party ends we can go someplace and talk. I think we should talk, Meg.a aAbout what? About the fact that Daniel will be back in town tomorrow?a A waiter went past with a tray of champagne flutes, and Meg grabbed two. She handed one to Nils. aHereas to doing the right thing. Or maybe doing the stupid thing. Itas a little less clear tonight, isnat it?a Nils clinked his glass with hers, catching and holding her gaze. aHereas to two of the very best weeks of my life.a aWell, thereas a toast designed to chill a husbandas blood.a Meg nearly dropped her glass and Nils knew without even turning around that Daniel Moore was standing behind him.

He stepped around Nils, taking Megas hand and bringing it to his lips. aDarling. Obviously you werenat expecting me until tomorrow. Iam sorry I didnat give you appropriate warning, but I was able to catch an earlier flight.a aDaniel, this is my friend, Ens. John Nilsson. Heas with the U.S. Navya"a aSEALs,a he finished, smiling tightly at Nils. aI know who your friend is. Iave spent the past six months trying to get him court-martialed.a aWhat?a Meg looked from Daniel to Nils, her eyes wide.

aCongratulations, Ensigna"brilliant move to get back at me by seducing my wife. Bravo.a aYou said it was just an inquiry,a Meg said, still gazing at Nils.

aIt is,a he told her. Christ, this was awkward. He looked at Daniel Moore, trying to judge how upset the older man was. Had he been drinking? Nils didnat think so. Still . . . aMaybe we should take this conversation outside.a aFirst an inquiry and then a hearing,a Daniel said. aAnd then, if Iam lucky, a court-martial. Maybe, Ensign, we should do nothing. Maybe you should go home and let me talk to my wife.a Nils didnat move. aWhat Meg is going to tell you, sir, is that despite what you thought you overheard, our friendship has not overstepped any boundsa"a Meg stopped him with a hand on his arm. aJohn, will you excuse me for a minute?a He looked into her eyes. aDo you want me to leave?a aYes,a Daniel said.

She ignored her husband, shook her head. aNo. I want to leave.a Her voice shook. aI want to go home. Would you mind flagging down a cab? Iall be out in a minute.a He nodded, holding her gaze for a moment longer. Iam sorry, he told her silently.

Somehow she managed to smile. aItas okay.a aYouave got him well trained,a he heard Daniel say as he walked away. aI suppose thatas one of the benefits of having an affair with a teenager.a Nils waved down a cab, then waited for Meg to appear. He was determined not to make things more miserable for hera"this was definitely bad enough. Head put her in the cab, pay the driver, and send her home.

And then head go back to his hotel, get packed. As badly as he wanted to, he wouldnat go back inside the embassy and have a man-to-man talk with Daniel Moore, set the fucker straight. No, instead head go to the inquiry in the morning, and then head leave town.

Head call Meg one more timea"when he returned to the States in a month or so. And maybe, just maybe, shead tell him that she was leaving that bastard for good.

Teenager. Jesus. Yeah, maybe Nils looked like a teenager to a senior citizen like Moore. What was he? Fifty years old? Christ. Why had she married him?

Because he was handsome, wealthy, and powerful. Because he was high class, an aristocrat. He was the real thing, while Nils was just a cheap knockoff.