Unmasking the Mercenary

“What I do is none of your business. What do you need from Ammar?” Haley repeated.

“Why do you do it?”

“Answer me,” she insisted.

“Why does someone as fragile as you come to dangerous countries and chase terrorists?” Rem asked.

“Is Ammar a terrorist?”

He just looked at her.

“Is he Hezbollah?” she asked.

“What do you think?”

So Ammar was a Hezbollah terrorist. Nothing surprising there. “I’m not fragile,” she told him.

He pushed his chair back and stood. Moving with deliberate slowness, he came to stand beside her chair. She strained her neck to look up at him.

“No?” He reached to brush some hair behind her shoulder.

Haley tensed. Her heart flew.

Dear Reader,

Cullen McQueen’s secret counterterror organization, TES, is bigger and stronger than ever in the third installment of the ALL MCQUEEN’S MEN miniseries, Unmasking the Mercenary.

I was after something a little different with this one. I wanted a strong heroine with a dark past to capture the heart of Rem D’Evereux, Mr. Badness incarnate. With a rough childhood that led him down the wrong path for too many years, he has trouble connecting with his heroic side. But then he meets Haley Engen, an ex-POW who’s determined to win the battle against her own inner demons. The two have a common bond and make each other grow.

Writing Rem as a dark and dangerous hero with a seriously questionable résumé—while still retaining his heroism—was a challenge. But it was a rewarding one. He isn’t TES material. But he could be. When bad is really good, a little dose of Nietzsche goes nicely with a love story like this one. I hope you agree!

Jennifer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

has been dreaming up stories since she fell in love with The Black Stallion by Walter Farley. With a BS in geology from Colorado State University, she is associate project manager for the spacecraft segment of a satellite imagery and information company. She has received several awards for her writing—one that led to the publication of her debut novel, The Secret Soldier—and she is a 2009 two-time RITA^>® Award nominee and Best First Book Golden Quill winner. She lives in Denver, Colorado, with her new man and their pet store: three dogs—Maddie, Dug and Booger—and plenty of fish. She loves to hear from readers. You can visit her Web site at www.jennifermorey.com.

To Buddy Mizner, for never giving up on me while I dated less deserving men, and for making me write when all I wanted to do was be with him.

May I always “wreck you.” I'm all yours.

As always, to my family and friends, and my critique partners—Susan LeDoux, Laura Leonard, Sandra Kerns, Annette Elton and Julie Stevens.

And to Mom.

Wish she was here to see this!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

“Y ou getting this?”

Haley Engen looked up from the intel file to see the monitor on her laptop computer. Her partner, Travis Todd, had a video camera disguised as a button on his shirt. It had audio capability, but he hadn’t spoken to her until now. The camera focused on the forty-something Lebanese man who ran a market on United Nations Drive. He was arguing with someone she didn’t recognize. Standing behind his checkout counter, the Lebanese glanced around the four-aisle market as though worried he’d be heard. He passed over Travis without any sign of suspicion and then turned back to the stranger. For as big as Travis was, he could blend in when he tried. Right now he was fingering a candy bar.

“Yeah,” she said. “Who is that he’s talking to?”

“Never seen him before,” he answered in a low voice. He never talked during surveillance, but the stranger presented a possible new twist to the mission.

They’d been tracking the Lebanese man in Monrovia, Liberia, for a few days now, watching his daily routine. The file in front of her said he was a diamond merchant named Habib Maalouf who had family history with Hezbollah. That made him worth a closer look. Which was the reason for this little endeavor into the fine, forsaken land of extortionists and murdering rebels. Diamonds didn’t wash through the country the way they did in Sierra Leone, but it was filled with people who’d do anything to get their hands on them.

“I’ll send something to Odie and see what she can come up with.” She cropped a picture of the man who’d resumed his heated discussion with the Lebanese merchant. Too bad they hadn’t bugged the checkout counter.

Travis passed the front counter and the two men stopped talking. Then the monitor filled with passing cars and people walking along the street.

Haley spotted a man leaning his shoulder against the white wall of a hat vendor across the street. His height and size made her notice him. He was very tall and big. Not overly muscle-bound, but solid and strong. Broad shoulders filled his white T-shirt. Round biceps. Sinewy forearms. Thick black hair and dark stubble. The way he perused the activity on the street gave her a chill. He gave nothing away. Didn’t smile. Didn’t alter his expression. Just watched. His gaze landed on Travis and then moved on.