He wasnât supposed to be framed for murder.
And he sure as hell wasnât supposed to be embroiled in an espionage case involving his former loverâa woman he couldnât trust.
âI want to see that message you intercepted.â
She blinked. âYou still donât believe me?â
âAfter everything youâve done to me?â
Not bothering to answer, she headed toward the door. But he blocked her path. âIâll only say this once,â he said. âIâm in charge here. From here on out, you do what I say.â
âI donât take orders from you.â
âYou do now.â
Temper flashed in her eyes. Then she pushed past him and stalked outside the hut.
Sheâd devastated him before, crushing any illusions he had.
And heâd be damned if sheâd make a fool of him twice.
Dear Reader,
We all love to read about soldiers, those courageous, romantic warriors who charge into danger with their guns blazing, risking their lives to slay our enemies and keep us safe. But there are quieter heroes around us, too, people who use their covert skills for the greater good, usually without the fanfare or recognition they deserve. Those are the people I decided to highlight in this new series, the STEALTH KNIGHTS operating on the periphery of our awarenessâsemi-reformed thieves and spies, bad-boy heroes who defeat the evil in our world even as they steal our hearts.
Iâm so excited to bring you the first of the STEALTH KNIGHTS stories, and am especially thrilled to set it in one of my favorite places on earth, the Pyrenees Mountains, a land of lush green valleys, medieval villages, and craggy peaksâthe perfect setting for heart-stopping romance and high intrigue.
I hope you enjoy the adventure!
Gail Barrett
GAIL BARRETT always knew sheâd be a writer. Who else would spend her childhood grinding sparkling rocks into fairy dust and convincing her friends it was real? Or daydream her way through elementary school, spend high school reading philosophy and playing the bagpipes, and then head off to Spain during college to live the writerâs life? After four years she straggled back homeâbroke, but fluent in Spanish. She became a teacher, earned a masterâs degree in linguistics, married a coast guard officer and had two sons.
But she never lost the desire to write. Her books have won numerous awards, including a National Readersâ Choice Award and Romance Writers of Americaâs prestigious Golden Heart.
She currently lives in western Maryland. Readers can contact her through her website, www.gailbarrett.com.
To my fabulous editor, Susan Litman.
Thank you for believing in me!
Iâd like to thank the following people for their help with this book: Elle Kennedy, Judith Sandbrook, and Mary Jo Archer for their invaluable critiques; Kathy Lauten for her information about flash drives; and Joe Barrett for his expert computer help. Any mistakes are definitely my own.
PaÃs Vell, the Pyrenees Mountains, 11:37 p.m.
Rafael Navarro dangled from the wall of the medieval castle, the murmur of approaching voices drifting down to him in the inky, moonless night. He went dead still, slid his gaze to the void plunging forty feet below him, and wondered what had gone wrong with his plan. Those guards werenât supposed to arrive yet. Heâd spent weeks studying their rotation for the G-6 summit, counting off the intervals of the passing searchlight, calculating the exact time and place to break into the American diplomatâs room. And he should have had three more minutes to scale this wall.
Cold sweat beaded his forehead. His back and shoulders throbbed as he clung to the nylon rope. But he schooled himself to absolute stillness, knowing even the slightest shift could move a prong on the grappling hook, drawing the royal guardsâ attention to him. Behind him, a cool breeze swept down the slopes of the Pyrenees Mountains, the slow, rhythmic clanking of cowbells tightening his nerves.
âYouâre not seriously going to smoke that.â The manâs voice came from the wall walk above.
âWhy not?â a second man asked. His voice had a belligerent edge. âItâs not going to kill anyone.â
Except Rafe.
âThe hell it wonât,â the first guard said. âYou heard the boss. Anyone who screws up tonight gets fired.â
âYeah, yeah.â
Rafeâs heart galloped against his rib cage. Heâd be dead if he didnât move. Now. In a few precious seconds, the searchlight would pass, illuminating him like a dark bug splayed on a silver wall.
But cigarette smoke wisped past. More crucial seconds ticked down. Rafe gritted his teeth, his biceps trembling, every survival instinct screaming at him to go. But he couldnât move, couldnât even change positions to relieve the pressure on his now-numb hands.
âHombre. Would you come on?â the first guard said, echoing Rafeâs thoughts. âThe next rotationâs about to catch up.â
âFine.â Disgust tinged the smokerâs voice. A glowing cigarette butt streaked over the wall, barely missing Rafeâs head. The guards finally pushed away from the ledge, the thud of their receding footsteps fading into the night.