Dear Reader,
I adore hot heroes. And I think Blake Landon definitely qualifies. His dedication to his country, his service and his friends are almost as sexy as his rock-hard body and gorgeous smile. Heâs perfect for Alexia, especially since he forces her to do the one thing she believes in so strongly for others, but avoids for herselfâhealing her past.
Alexia is a strong woman who follows her heart and believes in grabbing life with both hands. But can she let herself fall in love with a guy who breaks the two absolute rules sheâs set for her love life? Heâs military, and heâs not only similar to her estranged fatherâ¦heâs her fatherâs protégé.
I loved writing this story and bringing two such powerful, strong-willed characters together and watching them rescue each other. I hope you enjoy their journey, too.
And if youâre on the web, I hope youâll stop by and visit. Iâll be sharing Blakeâs breakfast recipe on my website, and insider peeks into this story and others. Stop by my website at www.tawnyweber.com or find me on Facebook.
Happy reading!
Tawny Weber
And they who for their country die shall fill an honored grave, for glory lights the soldierâs tomb, and beauty weeps the braveâ¦
âJoseph Drake
A LOUD BLAST FILLED the air as seven guns exploded in succession. Once, twice, thrice. Twenty-one shots. Faces implacable, the honor guard shouldered their guns and stood as tall and rigid as the oaks lining the cemetery.
The echoing silence broke when the bugler sounded taps. Lieutenant Blake Landon stood at attention, his eyes narrowed against the bright morning sun. The chaplainâs words of honor, bravery and sacrifice rolled over him like the gentle breeze, teasing, hinting but not really making an impact.
There was no mention of Philâs sense of humor, of how he always carried a rubber snake on missions to break the tension. That heâd hit a McDonaldâs the minute they were stateside for a bagful of French fries. The chaplain didnât know that before jumping from a plane, Phil always kissed his motherâs picture, then rubbed a rabbit foot. He wouldnât mention Philâs love for the beach. It didnât matter how godforsaken hot their assignment might have been, the minute he was off duty, heâd hit the beachâsun, surf and girls in bikinis. Heâd often said those were his reward for getting shot at on a regular basis.
But that wasnât the Phil they were honoring right now.
Here, at Arlington National Cemetery, Lieutenant Phil Hawkins was a soldier. Here, the sacred tradition of honoring the noble warrior focused on service, dedication and sacrifice to country.
The entire SEAL platoon in attendance, Blake stood shoulder to shoulder with his team. His squadmates. The men he served with, fought with, trained with. Prepared to offer up the ultimate sacrifice for their country.
Later tonight, theyâd all celebrate Phil, the man. Their squadmate, buddy, friend. The Joker.
He clenched his jaw, his eyes glancing off the flag-draped casket, then shifting to the distant trees again when the captain began the ritual of folding the red, white and blue material. As the chaplain offered his final words of comfort, the captain gently placed the folded flag into Mrs. Hawkinsâs hands.
Blakeâs focus locked on that triangle of fabric and didnât waver as the funeral finished. The people around him moved, shifted, left. He didnât. He couldnât.
Theyâd gone through BUDS training together. He, Phil and Cade. All cocky as hell, all determined to push their limits, to be superheroes. The Three Amigos, the rest of the team had called them. Inseparable.
Now permanently separated.
A large, beefy man joined him, scattering his thoughts. Grateful for the distraction, Blake directed his attention to the admiral. His hair as white and gleaming as his uniform, the older man topped Blakeâs own six feet by at least two inches.
âLieutenant,â Admiral Pierce greeted quietly. âI know this is a hard loss for you and your team. You have my sympathies.â
âThank you, sir,â Blake said, his words stiff as he watched Philâs mom softly smooth her fingers over the folded flag, as if running her fingers over her sonâs cheek. Blake cringed when she lost it, her slender shoulders shaking as she sobbed into the triangle.