Lover. But only in the purest sense of the word.

God, she missed him. It had been years, and she still missed him so much. . . .

Meg Moore.

Holy shit.

The gunman who had taken over the Kazbekistani embassy was a woman. And not just any woman. She was Margaret Delancy Moore.

As Nils stared at the pictures coming onto the transport planeas video monitor through satellite transmission, he was stunned. If someone had asked him to make a list of all the women head met in his twenty-eight years of life, with number one being the woman most likely to take hostages in the Kazbekistani menas room, Meg Moore would have come in dead last.

On the screen, Meg sat on the floor of that elaborately tiled bathroom, weapon held unwaveringly in her hand. She was wearing jeans and a fancy pair of cowboy boots, a dark blue shirt, and a denim jacket. Her straight dark hair was cut short around her face, making her pretty features appear even more delicate. Her brown eyes had dark smudges beneath them, as if she were sick or at least exhausted, her mouth a grim line.

What did he expect, though? That shead be smiling? The woman had taken hostage the K-stani ambassador and two of his staff. There wasnat much to smile about.

But, God, head always loved Megas smile. . . .

What the hell was she doing on the nonhostage side of a handgun?

aOne gunmana"or woman, in this case,a Jazz reported, aand three hostages. In a room with a single door and no windows. She chose her location well.a aAccording to Admiral Crowley, the K-stani government is pushing for immediate action,a Tom Paoletti added. aThe FBI counterterrorist group called onto the scene is considering letting a local SWAT team kick down the door and take her out.a Nils finally found his voice. aOh, Christ, no,a he said, and Jazz, Paoletti, and Wolchonok all turned to look at him. aL.T., Jesus, pleasea"donat let them do that.a aWho is she, Johnny?a Lieutenant Paoletti asked.

aL.T., really,a Nils said. aYouave got to call the admiral now, and tell him to ask the FBI to wait. Theyave got to let me go in there first and talk to Mega"her nameas Meg Moore. Seriously, sir, I doubt sheas ever even held a weapon before, let alone fired one. I donat know what this is about, but thereas definitely something going on here that we donat know. This is a woman who has a young daughter. Iam telling you, Megas probably never even had a speeding ticket in her entire life. Please, Tom, God, donat let them send in a SWAT team.a Tom Paoletti was already dialing the phone. aIall talk to Crowley.a Nils felt almost lightheaded with relief.

aShit, Johnny.a Wolchonok was looking at him with sympathy. aIs this some kind of girlfriend-gone-crazy situation?a aOh, no way, Senior Chief,a Nils said. aNot even close. Sheas not my girlfriend. I havenat seen this woman in years.a aJesus Christ, is that Meg Moore?a Sam had been in the back of the transport plane with the rest of the team, but now he stood squinting at the slightly blurred pictures on the video screen. He looked at Nils. aIt is, isnat it? Hey, Karmody, come check this out.a aYou know her, too?a Jazz asked.

Sam glanced over at the stone-faced XO. aYeah, she worked at the American embassy in the Pit back in a97. Me and Nils and WildCard played hide-the-refugee there with that CIA spooka"what was his name?a aWhatas the Pit?a Ensign Mike Muldoon was green and hadnat had the chance to visit many of the worldas more choice garden spots like Beirut, or Algeria, or the crme de la crme, Kazbekistan.

Mike was one of those digustingly gorgeous guys that women drooled over. He looked like a Hollywood action-adventure hero, hard bodied, with a face that would adorn the bedrooms of teenage girls across the country. But unlike many too-handsome men, he was completely clueless about his good looks. Apparently head been overweight as a kid, and when he looked into his mirror, he still saw eight-year-old Tubby Muldoon.

He was a damn nice guya"one of the nicest in the teams, and sharp as hell, as well. If there was something he didnat understand, he wasnat afraid to ask questions. Head hit it off with the senior chief the moment he joined Team Sixteen, and now, as usual, he looked to Wolchonok for an explanation.

aKazbekistana"a Wolchonok gave the kid his best professor voice. aa"is also known as K-stan or the Pit. And for good reason. Itas an oil-rich country, but it looks like the surface of the moon. About four thousand K-stanis are filthy rich; the other millions are piss poor, starving, and angry about it. The governmentas allegedly a democracy since the breakup of the Soviet bloc, but the hundreds of thousands of Muslims they oppress probably wouldnat agree. Every other hovel hides a terrorist cell; Americans canat travel from the airport to the embassy without armed escort. If itas ever a choice between K-stan and the Cayman Islands for your vacation, Muldoon, Iad go with the Islands.a Sam looked at Nils. aWhat was the name of that guy we went in to rescue? It was some kind of Arab handle. . . .a aAbdelaziz,a Nils told his friend. He was never going to forget that name, nor the CIA operative it belonged to, not if he lived to be four hundred years old.

WildCard unplugged himself from his laptop long enough to take a quick look at the video monitor. aI remember that. And I remember Meg Moore. Thatas definitely her. She was hot.a aShe was also marrieda"to that asshole foreign service officer,a Sam said. Nils could feel his friendas eyes on him and he carefully didnat meet his gaze. aThat prick who thought he was Godas gift to the worlda"remember him?a Oh, yeah, Nils remembered Daniel Moore. He was older than Meg by at least ten years, with a hint of gray at his distinguished temples. He was one of those guys whoad spent so many years lying, he would no longer recognize the truth if it came up and bit him on the ass.

Of course, Nils should talk. It took one to know one.

Both Sam and WildCard were gazing at him with unabashed interest. And Nils knew what they were thinking. All this had taken place three years ago. And now, from out of the blue, Meg had reappeared, asking for Nils by name. Or was it from out of the blue?

aJust how friendly did you get with her, Johnny boy?a WildCard voiced the question that was in Samas eyes, too. aI thought messing around with married women was a relatively new hobby for you.a Nils could feel Wolchonok watching him, and felt a flash of shame. And then angera"at himself. It was stupid. Why did he go into bars, his sixth sense tuned in and adept at finding married women looking for a little clandestine recreational activity, if he was going to feel crappy when someone like the senior chief found out? He wasnat guilty of any real wrongdoing. All he did was smile, and these women approached him. It wasnat as if he trolled Navy bases, targeting the sweet young things whose husbands had just left for a six month WESTPAC cruise.

And as for Meg . . .

aIt wasnat anything like that,a he told WildCard, giving him his best earnest face. aShe was in DC later that same year, you know, when I was there, too, for the inquiry? We were friends. Thatas all it ever was.a They werenat buying it.

aYou never told me that Meg was in DC that summer,a Sam said. aI remember you were there a long time. The inquiry kept getting postponed or something.a aIt was just a couple weeks. And we were friends,a Nils repeated. aIt was no big deal. There was nothing to tell.a aYou hit on her, and she turned you down,a WildCard interpreted. aEither that or you slept with her, fell completely in love, and she broke your heart by kicking you out when her husband came home.a aLook, I didnat hit on her, I didnat sleep with her,a Nils said.

aItas the ones they donat talk about that you have to watch out for,a Sam agreed with WildCard.

Nils shook his head. aBelieve what you want, assholes. But we were just friends.a But even Mike Muldoon was skeptical as he stared at the video screen. aJohn Nilsson was friends with a woman as good-looking as this one?a Nils gave up and went to where Jazz was monitoring information coming in via fax. He glanced through the pages theyad already receiveda"background on the suspect.

On Meg.

WildCard had plugged himself back into his laptop computer. Which didnat mean he wasnat up for conversation. Sam had once seen WildCard take a phone call from a rear admiral while writing code and maintaining seven different instant message conversations on America Online.

WildCard called it multitasking. Sam called it crazy. It was one thing to spread your attention thin when talking to your girlfriend, but a rear admiral . . . ?

Of course, WildCard was one of those guys with no social skills, and not a whole hell of a lot of common sense. Like, when he went out drinking, he went out drinking. He didnat go to a bar to meet women, he went to get completely wild-assed and shit-faced.

Part of that mightave had something to do with the fact that up until about four months ago, WildCard had been all but engaged to his high school girlfriend, Adele Zakashansky.

Shead broken up with him via email, and ever since then head been spending all of his free time almost grimly focused on developing a long-distance tracking device that utilized the cell phone satellite system. It was a project he and Adelea"also a computer geeka"had dreamed up, and he was determined to get rich off it without her.

Sam sat down next to him now. aWhat do you think really went on between Nils and Meg?a WildCard didnat look up. aIf he wasnat banging her, he wanted to. Still wants to. Badly. Personally, I think he had a taste of what she had to offer. Of course I could be wrong. Maybe he only spent a lot of time imagining it.a Sam dug into his pockets as he nodded. You could always count on Karmody to express himself dead honestly. He found a bag of peanut M&Mas and tore it open, popping three into his mouth at once, holding it out to WildCard.

aWarm chocolate sucks,a WildCard said. aYou know, thereas a reason people store 3 Musketeers Bars in the freezer. That way it doesnat suck because itas all melty and shit. Personally, Iad think a guy whoas an officer in the Navy might recognize the fact that carrying chocolate in his pockets is like the direct opposite of storing it in a freezer.a aYeah, but these are M&Mas. You know, they melt in your mouth . . . ?a aThey melt in your pocket, too. Itas disgusting. Itas like sucking on a warm turd.a Sam tossed another small handful into his mouth to test that theory. aNo, itas not.a aOh, yes it is.a aSo is that a no?a aItas a shit, no! Get aem outta my face. Sir.a Sam shrugged. aMore for me.a He chewed for a moment in silence. aHowas the project going?a WildCard finally looked up. aItas going well. You want to help me beta test?a Head been wrecked by Adeleas rejection, running on anger and the thought of financial revenge for the past four months. Sam could see it in his eyes. And he knew that even if WildCard made five million dollars from this thing, he still wasnat going to have what he really wanted, poor bastard.

Sam nodded. aYeah, I can help. What do you need me to do?a WildCard dug into his own pocket and pulled out a small envelope. He shook its contents into his hand.

aTake these,a he commanded as he dropped two tiny metal balls into Samas open palm. They were about half the size of ball bearings, but they werenat smooth. Instead they were rough to the touch, almost sharpa"like techo-burrs. aAttach aem to someoneas clothing. Donat tell me whose. I want to see, number one, if I can track aem, and number two, how far they get before theyare dislodged.a aSome people actually wash their clothes,a Sam felt compelled to point out.

aYeah, well, the worldas full of danger, isnat it?a aWhereas Megas husband?a Nils asked the teamas executive officer, Lt. Jazz Jacquette, as he began sifting through the piles of faxed information. aIs he out of the country again? Any details on whether heas been notified?a Jazz shook his head. aThereas no husband.a aYeah, there is, XO. His name is Daniel Moore and hea"a aHeas dead.a Nils felt himself go very, very still. aExcuse me?a aIt says it right here.a Jazz pulled a page free and handed it to him. aDaniel Moore was killed in a car accident in Paris over eighteen months ago. Margaret Mooreas a widow.a Nils looked at the report, saw the words, but they still didnat make sense.

Megas husband had been killed. Eighteen months ago. Eighteen fucking months ago. And shead never contacted him. Shead never bothered to let him know.

Nils had to sit down, suddenly feeling every one of the past forty-four hours head been awake.

Didnat she think he would care?

Didnat she think head want to know?

Christ, head spent the past five minutes working to convince Sam and WildCard that he and Meg had just been friends. Head been spinning hard, lying his ass off. Yes, theyad been friends, but theyad been way more than friends, too. What he shared with Meg Moore had transcended mere friendship.

Or so Nils had believed.

But Meg hadnat called him when Daniel died.

Maybe he and Meg werenat friends. And maybe what head said to Sam and WildCard had been wronga"for an entirely different reason. Maybe Meg was the one who didnat consider him her friend. Maybe he was just some officer in the Navy shead wasted some time with briefly back in the summer of 1998.

Maybe she didnat think of him at alla"at least not until she found herself in the Kazbekistani menas room, holding three men at gunpoint.

Nils still couldnat believe it. Meg Moore holding three men at gunpoint.

He went to work, reading every word of every fax. They had three hours before the transport touched down in DC, four before they arrived at the K-stani embassy.

He willed the plane to move faster, dying to get there and find out why the hell Meg was doing this. Dying to find out why, after all this time, shead asked for him by name.

Still dying to see her again.

Four.

IT HAD BEEN Megas first encounter with U.S. Navy SEAL Team Sixteenas Troubleshooters.

She and Daniel were both officers in the U.S. Foreign Service, working and living inside the protective walls of the American embassy in Kazabek, Kazbekistan.

It had been the day after Christmas 1997. The day after Meg had found out about Danielas second affair.

At least she thought it was his second, although, knowing Daniel, he could well have had many others between number one and number two. To rephrase, it was the second affair that she had found out about.

Shead been numb with anger and hurt, and when a team of three Navy SEALs burst through the hallowed gates of the American embassy in possession of the man the K-stani government claimed was their public enemy number one, shead welcomed the intrusion.

Shead been the only staff member who had.

Theread been such an uproar, shead gone into the lobby to see if she could help and had found the three SEALsa"one of them injureda"and their aguest,a a man known only as Abdelaziz. They were tending to their wounded man right there, on the cold marble floor.

All four men were dressed in the ragged garb that most lower-class K-stani civilians wore. It was part Westerna"jeans and faded T-shirts that read aJust Do Ita or aHard Rock Cafeaa"and part traditionala"greatcoats and woolen hats that kept out the winteras chill.

Their faces were smudged with dirt and blood, and the man whoad been injured was shivering from the cold.

aWhat on earth are you doing still in the hall?a Meg asked. It wasnat hard to tell which one of them was in chargea"it was the tall one with the light brown eyes. Had to be. She read aleadera in his face, in the set of his shoulders, in his every move. She looked around at the small crowd that had gathered. aThese men need medical assistance and youare standing here . . . ?a She spotted Laney by the stairway, her mouth hanging open, file clutched to her ample chest. aGet a doctor,a Meg ordered her assistant, then turned back to the brown-eyed man.

aIt would be appreciated if we could be moveda"perhaps upstairs, to an inner room with no windows like these?a He spoke with a lilting Kazbekistani accent as he gestured toward the tall windows that faced the street. aI realize itas understood that this embassy is a sanctuary, but Iam a target right now. It wouldnat take much more than a high-powered rifle and a little lack of either respect or understanding to take me out.a The brown-eyed man wasnat in charge. He was Abdelaziza"the man behind this uproar.

aWhereas the ambassador?a she asked the wide-eyed junior staffers. aWhereas the administrative officer?a aOut at the front entrance,a Chris Chenko volunteered, atelling the Kazbekistani Army officers just how big a mistake it would be for them to roll through the gates with their tanks and storm the embassy.a Oh, dear God. aHow about the PAO or IO?a she asked, hoping for somebody, anybody, even though she already knew the answer.

aEveryoneas out front, Mrs. Moore,a she was told.

Abdelaziz was watching her, and she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. aOkay, letas get you upstairs. We can use my office temporarily.a She looked back at the wounded man. aDo you need help carrying him?a One of the SEALsa"a young man with a nasty scrape on his cheek that had bled down into the collar of his shirta"shook his head. aNo, maaam, weave got him.a He had a drawl reminiscent of James Garneras Maverick, and eyes the color of a Texas sky.

Meg swiftly led the way up the stairs, Abdelaziz on her heels.

aThank you,a he said, and meant it.

She glanced back at him. aI canat believe they just left you in the lobby.a aThereas a somewhat . . . tense situation out there. And the governmentas not the only one whoas after me.a aThe way Iave heard it is the government thinks youare a terrorist, and the terrorists think youare working for the government.a Meg opened the door to her office and stepped back to let him in. aWhich is it, Mr. Abdelaziz?a aThe truth is never as clear as wead like it to be,a he said cryptically, flashing her a smile.

He had beautiful teeth, an incredible smile. In combination with his too-warm eyes, the effect was impressive. Abdelaziz was an outrageously handsome man.

An outrageously handsome young man. Probably about the same age as her little sister, Bonniea"about twenty-three or four.

Much younger than Meg.

Although, ever since discovering Danielas infidelity, purely by accident, from a fax she wasnat supposed to seea"it wasnat as if Daniel had wrapped up the truth and left it as a gift for her under their straggly little Christmas treea"Meg had felt about a million years old.

Her great-uncle Andrew who was pushing ninety-seven looked younger than she felt today.

The doctor arrived, and Meg locked her file cabinets and stepped back, out of her office, to give the men their privacy.

To her surprise, Abdelaziz followed, closing the door behind him.

aThe SEALs trust you to wander about on your own?a she asked.

aIam not wanderinga"I just stepped outside to thank you again.a aPlease stay with them,a Meg said, auntil we know for sure how this situation is going to be handled. And please donat take this personally, but Iam going to put a guard outside the door. Some people seem convinced youare a terrorist. There are children in this compound, anda"a aYou donat have to explain or apologize.a aIall call the kitchen for food and get you something hot to eat,a she told him briskly. aIall send for some towels and clean clothes, tooa"you could all use a shower. Thereas a bathroom in the basement, next to the workout room. When youare ready, Iall have a guard escort you downstairs.a He moved back, away from her. aIam sorry. We must smell terrible. The past few days have been filled with . . . challengesa"some more malodorous than others.a aI canat imagine where youave been or what you mustave been doing.a She paused. aOr who you really are.a He was even more attractive when he laughed. She wished her sister Bonnie were here to meet this man, and then, in flash, she realized she wished nothing of the sort. She wished she were Bonnie. Fresh out of college and just starting out. Free to allow herself to be charmed, even for just a moment, even by a dangerous man.

aItas best if you donat try to imagine anything.a He gestured to the closed office door. aI should go back and . . .a aGood idea,a she said. aIall get that food.a But first the guards. aLet me know if you need anything else.a aYouave already been more than kind, Mrs. Moore.a If head been clean, he wouldave bowed and kissed her handa"Meg had no doubt of that. As it was, he just gazed at her with those disconcertingly luminous light brown eyes. aThe safe haven of your office is sincerely appreciated. As is your kind offer of food and a shower. I am most grateful.a Such Kazbekistani dignity and formality coming from this ragged and bloody young man made Meg smile. aItas my pleasure.a aThe pleasure is mine, fy siwgwr aur.a Head slipped into another language but it wasnat Russian or even one of the lesser known K-stani dialects, either.

Fy siwgwr aur was . . . Welsh? Yes, it was a term of endearment that translated clumsily into amy golden sugar.a For a moment, Meg was convinced she was losing ita"that the stress of the past few days was getting to her. But he continued on, still speaking in Welsh, of all odd things. aYours is the most beautiful smile Iave seen in all my life. It makes me forget I havenat slept in four days.a Meg couldnat believe it. She couldnat believe this ragged Kazbekistani was speaking Welsh, couldnat believe he actually meant those honeyed words. Beautiful smile. My golden sugar. Good grief.

Unless maybe he was the kind of man who had a good nose for sniffing out lonely, pathetic women. Maybe her current unhappiness was etched on her face. Or perhaps he was one of two or three million Kazbekistanis who knew about Danielas affair with Leilee. Why not? It wouldnat surprise Meg one bit to find out shead been the last person in all of K-stan to know what a total, lying bastard shead married.

aYou donat see it at all when you look into a mirror, do you?a he asked her softly, still in near perfect, lyrical Welsh. aYou donat have any idea what you look like, of the power of your smile. Would you smile for me, I wonder, if I . . .a The words were ones she didnat know, but their meaning was more than clear. Shockingly clear.

This was ridiculous. What could he possible be thinking? He was barely out of diapers and she was an ancient and jaded thirty-one. And that was completely ignoring the fact that she was married. Although she suspected Abdelaziz wouldnat want anything longer than a single night of passion.

And maybe, like Daniel, he just didnat find marriage to be that big a deterrent to casual sex.

aI want to see you smile when Ia"a aOh, please,a Meg interrupted him, unable to listen to another ridiculous word. aJust go back in with the SEALs, sugar.a He stared at her.

aIall cut you some slack for the lack of sleep. And youare young, so maybe four days without sex has done something weird to your brain as well, but believe me, I do know what I look like, thank you very much.a She looked like exactly what she wasa"the still somewhat pretty mother of a seven-year-old. And maybe that was part of her problem with Daniel. Maybe when he looked at her beside him in his mirror, he didnat like what he saw anymore.

Or maybe he was just a lying, cheating son of a bitch for whom fidelity wasnat part of his working vocabulary.

aYou speak Welsh?a Abdelaziz choked out, startled back into English. Apparently shead shocked the hell out of him.

aYes,a she answered in that language. aThat seems like a little detail you might want to check in advance next time you start waxing poetic, Romeo.a aNo one speaks Welsh. At least no one in Kazbekistan does.a aI do. And so do you, apparently.a She had to laugh at the improbability of that. aHow on earth did youa"a aMy mother was Welsh.a He had the good grace to be embarrassed, his too-handsome face actually flushing beneath all that mud and grime as he realized all that head said to her. aIam really sorry, maaam. It wasnat my intention to offend you. I never would have said any of that if I knew you could understand.a aOh, so itas okay to say such things to a woman if she canat understand?a He was so young. And so terribly embarrassed. Still, he had guts. He didnat run away, escaping back into the sanctuary of her office. He stood firmly in front of her, forcing himself to look her directly in the eye. aI apologize. And I beg you not to let my despicable behavior reflect upon your treatment of my mena"the other men.a aWhy donat you go inside,a she said gently, aand let the doctor check you out? Iall get some food and some clean clothesa"and Iall also find some rooms with beds so you and your friends can get some sleep. And tomorrow we can all start over.a He bowed, and wisely, he went into her office without uttering another word.

In the end, it was her files that were moved out of her office rather than the refugee and three SEALs.

When it was clear they were determined to stay put, Meg made arrangements for cots to be moved in. And when she stopped by in the morning to transfer some files from her computeras hard drive onto a disk, Abdelaziz was fast asleep, spread-eagle on the floor.

He lay there as if completely boneless, in complete abandon.

It was the way a child might sleep.

Or a man who hadnat slept for four days straight.

Still, he stirred before she finished with the computer, lifting his head and pushing himself wearily up onto his hands and knees, off the floor. aReport,a he said.

Sam, the SEAL with the Texas drawl, was awake, sitting up with his weapon held loosely in his arms. aThe team commander is still asleep. I gave Mrs. Moore permission to get some information she needed from her computer.a Abdelaziz lifted his head and looked directly at her. It was obvious that head been unaware that she was in the room until Sam had given him warning. He leapt to his feeta"shead never seen a man move that fast beforea"raking his fingers back through his sleep-mussed hair and straightening his clothes.

aAs far as I know,a Sam continued, athereas been no change in the political wind. Unless Mrs. Moore has some news she wants to share. Of course, she may not be feeling too kindly toward us, since sheas going on day two without her office.a aThe only rooms available were on the top floor, which is a far more vulnerable position than here on the second floor.a Abdelazizas smile was rueful. aHere I go, about to apologize to you. Again. Iam sorry for any inconvenience weave caused you, but I needed to sleep and I wouldnat have slept up there.a aAs long as you donat mind me coming in to use the computer, itas not that big an inconvenience,a she lied.

His smile said he knew better. And he was still embarrassed about yesterday, as well. As he should be. aHave you heard anything from the front line?a he asked.