Bloody hell. Project Chameleon’s replacement team? That’s who he was working with? He stifled a helpless laugh. Mother fu--
The door opened and Gladys peered into the room. “Ms. Beckam has arrived,” she said.
“Good,” Garrett told her. “Send her in.”
Because he didn’t appreciate the bomb Garrett had just dumped in his lap, or the Colonel’s tactics and because he was an ass, he neither stood nor even turned around in his seat to acknowledge Julia Beckam’s presence. It was rude and unconscionable and completely against his very nature--not to mention his mother would pinch the living hell out of him for being so disrespectful--and a host of other appropriate adjectives, but Guy was annoyed past caring.
Furthermore, now seemed like the perfect time to let Garrett and Ms. Beckam know that he was nobody’s lapdog. He was still here because he chose to be here and if at any time he changed his mind, he’d bail.
End of story.
Evidently realizing that Guy wasn’t going to be a gentleman, Garrett shot him an irritated look, then stood and rounded his desk. “Ms. Beckam,” he greeted warmly.
“I apologize for being late,” came a beautiful, almost smokey-sounding voice. “I was...unavoidably detained.”
The slight irritation he heard in her voice immediately begged the question “By what?” but since he’d cast himself in the roll of insufferable ass, he could hardly turn around now and probe, could he?
“No, problem,” Garrett assured her. “Former Lt. Colonel McCann and I were just catching up.”
He felt her gaze, heard her hesitate then, “Well, shall we get started?”
“Certainly.” Garrett found his place behind his desk once more and Guy felt Julia Beckam move into the seat next to him. A flash of static seemed to crackle around him, making him shift in his chair and a cloud of honeysuckle settled over him. It reminded him of vine-ripened tomatoes and hot, humid summers. Of home, on the very rare occasions it had been good. From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a long shapely leg peeking out from a navy skirt.
Shit.
Another glimpse revealed the outline of a very plump breast beneath a white silk button-up blouse. He mentally groaned and felt the room shrink.
Double shit.
Clearly a glutton for punishment, Guy finally turned to glance at her and, if the sight of her leg and breast had made the room shrink, then one look at her uncommonly beautiful face made it tilt. He experienced a violent hot-flash immediately followed by a quaking chill and his stomach did an interesting dive the likes of which he’d never felt before. A shot of adrenaline burst into his bloodstream and instantly headed for his groin.
High cheekbones, full pouty mouth, a nose that was a little too large for her face, but seemed to fit anyway and eyes the shade of a new leaf made her one of the most alluring creatures he’d ever set eyes on. She wore little to no make-up and her hair, though pulled back in a severe school-marm knot at the back of her head, was a pale blonde the shade of sun-light. The hairstyle and the clothes might have said “Take me seriously,” but the face and the body screamed an abbreviated version--“Take me.”
As though she’d somehow read his mind, her lips formed the slightest hint of a chilly smile. “Mr. McCann.”
Guy grinned and inclined his head. “Ms. Beckam.”
The pleasantries over, Garrett moved into Colonel mode and outlined what he expected of them. He handed a class outline to each of them. “As you can see, McCann will be in charge of the team building aspects of the curriculum and Ms. Beckam, we’d like you to focus on the emotional benefits of building a trust relationship.” He smiled. “These teams need to feel married in all but the biblical sense.”
Julia pulled a pair of reading glasses from her purse and perused the documents. There shouldn’t have been anything remotely sexy about that, but for whatever reason, Guy felt his dick get hard all the same. He squirmed and rolled his eyes.
Clearly it was past time to get laid.
“The two of you can get together and decide which exercises and lectures will compliment the other. In essence, you’re a team as well.” He slid a look at McCann and offered a pointed smile. “Might I suggest getting better acquainted over dinner?”
Startled, Julia looked up. Her gaze darted nervously between Garrett and himself and it was quite obvious that the idea of sharing a meal with him wasn’t what she’d like to do at all.
Which was probably why Guy grinned broadly at her and heard himself say, “That sounds like an excellent idea.”
Julia smiled weakly, but didn’t say anything.
“Wonderful,” Garrett said, evidently pleased. “For lodging, please check in at Olson Hall and they’ll get the two of you fixed up. Gladys has called ahead, so they’re expecting you.”
“Is that everything?” Guy asked.
“For now,” Garrett told him. “I’ll be checking in to see how things are going.” He glanced at Julia. “Ms. Beckam, if you have any questions feel free to give me a call, however I think that McCann will be able to field most inquiries. He’s familiar with the way things are run here on post.”
Julia nodded, shot Guy another one of those hesitant looks which said she doubted the credibility of that claim. For whatever reason, Guy got the distinct impression that she’d taken his measure and found him lacking.
Not the usual reaction he normally received from women--he didn’t have to beat them off with a stick, per se, but a smile and a wink usually did the trick. Could be that she was the exception to the rule. He slid her a brooding glance, intrigued beyond reason. Stranger things had happened.
Julia stood and shook Garrett’s hand. “Thank you for this opportunity, sir. I think you’ll be pleased with the results.”
Garrett smiled. “I’m counting on it.”
Guy acknowledged Garrett with a nod of his head, then followed Julia Beckam out of the Colonel’s office. She walked ahead of him without sparing him so much as a backward glance. Tit for tat? he wondered. Or was she simply that rude?
Time to find out.
“Do you know where you’re going, Ms. Beckam?” Guy drawled.
She turned and shot him a droll look over her shoulder. “No, but I have a map of the area in my car and, being as I’m neither blind nor stupid, I think I can figure it out.” She turned back around, purposely, it seemed, discarding him.
Both then, Guy decided, scowling. “How about I make it easy for you and you follow me?”
She didn’t bother looking at him. “Very chivalrous, but no thank you.” Chilly sarcasm hung like icicles in her voice.
What the fu--? “Do you need help getting that thing out?”
This time she did turn around and looked thoroughly perplexed. “What thing?”
Guy smiled sweetly at her, provoked past his normal limits. “The stick up your ass. I imagine it’s uncomfortable.”
A fleeting flash of hurt clouded her gaze, then she blinked and the usual chill emerged. She deliberately retraced her steps. “Let’s get something straight. I am perfectly aware of the fact that you don’t want to work with me. You made that abundantly clear the instant I walked into Colonel Garrett’s office.” She rolled her eyes, made an exasperated huff as though mystified and repulsed by the workings of the male brain. “I’m treading on your precious male territory, or ruining your ‘manly’ team-building exercises with my touchy-feely approach to trust-bonding and you’d just as soon not work with me.” She pinned him with a glare. “Well, newsflash, buddy. As shocking as it might be, I don’t particularly want to work with you either, but it’s a necessary evil and I’ve accepted it. I suggest you do the same.”
“When did you accept it?” Guy asked as a horrible suspicion rose.
She blinked, her tirade derailed. “Two weeks ago when Garrett informed me that I’d be working with you.”
Guy smirked at her. “Newsflash,” he said sarcastically, throwing the phrase right back at her. “I found out I’d be working with you two
minutes before you walked into the room. I haven’t had time to ‘accept it’ yet.”
She paused, her clear green gaze considering and something about that look made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. “Now that’s interesting.”
“What’s interesting?” Guy asked, unnerved by that probing I-know-something-that-you-don’t look.
She cocked her head and an infuriating little grin turned her lips. “That Garrett’s put a guy he clearly doesn’t trust in charge of a trust building class. Irony, I wonder,” she mused annoyingly. “Or something else.”
And with that parting shot she turned and walked away, leaving him to wonder as well.
About her.
ABOUT RHONDA RUSSELL
A New York Times best-selling author, two-time RITA nominee, Romantic Times Reviewers Choice nominee, and National Readers' Choice Award Winner Rhonda Russell writes hot romantic comedy for Harlequin Books and Firefly Press, her indie press. With more than forty-five published books to her credit and many more coming down the pike, she's thrilled with her career and enjoys dreaming up her characters and manipulating the worlds they live in.
Rhonda previously wrote as Rhonda Nelson, but getting married necessitated a name change. She and her husband (aka The Sweetest Badass in the World) and their menagerie of pets happily make their home on a 166-acre farm in the middle of nowhere in a small town in Northern Alabama near the banks of the Tennessee River. If you’d like to see videos of baby ducks, spoiled turkeys who like to ride in the car, guineas who think they’re turkeys, then be sure to check her out Facebook Page Author Rhonda Russell.
More from Rhonda Russell
Men Out of Uniform Series
The Player, #1
Major Perfect, #2
The Maverick, #3
The Loner, #4
The Hell-Raiser, #5
Letters From Home, #6
The Soldier, #7
The Rebel, #8
4-Book Romance Omnibus
Love You More
Bless Her Heart Series
The Future Widows' Club, #1
Disenchanted: A Witchy Business Novella
THE MAVERICK
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
RHONDA RUSSELL
Text Copyright © 2017 Rhonda Russell
All Rights Reserved
2nd edition, Rhonda Russell.
Published by Firefly Press
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any means without permission of the author. Your respect and support of the author is appreciated.
All characters, events, brands, companies, and locations in this story are used fictionally and without intent of slander. Any resemblance to actual people are purely coincidental.
Dear Reader,
With the advent of all three founding members of Ranger Security properly paired off and becoming fathers, naturally their growing company is going to need more help. Colonel Carl Garrett is only too happy to send potential employees their way. Lucas “Huck” Finn is the first of these lucky guys, though he feels anything but lucky when his first mission involves guarding a rich debutante determined to run him off...
For updates on future releases and cute videos of baby ducks be sure to check out my Facebook Author Page—Author Rhonda Russell.
Happy Reading!
Rhonda
More from Rhonda Russell
Men Out of Uniform Series
The Player, #1
Major Perfect, #2
The Maverick, #3
The Loner, #4
The Hell-Raiser, #5
Letters From Home, #6
The Soldier, #7
The Rebel, #8
4-Book Romance Omnibus
Love You More
Bless Her Heart Series
The Future Widows' Club, #1
Disenchanted: A Witchy Business Novella
For Jean Hovey, for reminding me that I’m a warrior and for always having faith in me, even when I didn’t. I very much treasure your friendship.
PROLOGUE
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
EPILOGUE
THE LONER - Sneak Peek!
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
ABOUT RHONDA RUSSELL
PROLOGUE
Losing his touch, hell, Colonel Carl Garrett thought, mortified by the ugly vicious rumor. He scowled and watched the antique pocket watch--General Robert E. Lee’s no less--suspended from his index finger spin slowly in mid-air. He hadn’t spent the past thirty-three years in the military and received his most recent commendation for meritorious service only to be ushered out to pasture to make way for up-and-coming wannabes, dammit.
Him? Retire?
He was certainly old enough, of course, and his wife periodically asked when he planned to hang up his hat, so to speak, but Garrett simply couldn’t wrap his mind around being...useless. Of no longer being of value. His days were filled with purpose, a noble one he’d been proud of from the first moment he’d entered the service, a wet-behind-the-ears punk with more attitude than sense. The military had thrashed some sense into him, had given him a goal and a dream and the idea of letting those go, of puttering around his greenhouse and trailing along behind his wife at the grocery store were simply...excruciating for him.
The murmurs and rumors of his imminent retirement-- when he’d never entertained the thought--had started immediately following his commendation and in retrospect, Garrett realized now he should have seen it for what it was--a nice career-ender, the cherry on top of the sundae.
While he knew he commanded the respect of the majority of his peers, he also knew there were a few people around here who wished that he’d move on and make room for new blood. Naturally, one didn’t get to his level and not make a few enemies. But the idea of doing that was as out of the question now as it had been the first time the issue of his retiring had come up.
Garrett wasn’t finished yet. He still had work to do, and to prove that he was as every bit as sharp as he’d always been, the evidence of that statement was sitting right outside his office--impatiently, of course and most likely annoyed and bitter as hell--right this very minute. The thought drew a smile, one of few he’d had over the past few weeks.
Guy McCann--his maverick.
In all of his years in service, Garrett had never met a man with better instincts and the balls to follow them, no matter how risky the move might be. And when it came to instilling confidence and leading a team, Guy McCann had been the best of the best. He’d led Project Chameleon, one of the best covert operation special forces units the Army had ever known, on more than two dozen highly dangerous missions--and had been successful each and every time, an unparalled record.
His days of service were over, of course, but if McCann could teach this new team Garrett had put together a fraction of the skill he possessed, then that would put an end to the rumors that he’d lost his touch--Garrett grimaced at the mere thought--that he should be put out to pasture.
The proof was in the pudding, so to speak, and Garrett was counting on McCann to whip up something special.
Given McCann’s present state of mind, Garrett putting his faith in the troubled former Ranger might not be the most prudent move, but like McCann, there were times when a man simply had to follow his instincts and each and every one of Garrett’s told him that McCann needed to fulfill this favor just as much as Garrett needed him to be successful.
Garrett scowled, winced, thought of the coming confrontation. Pity they were about to get off to such a bad start.
CHAPTER 1
Pecker filleted with a butter knife.
Balls remo
ved with flaming pinchers.
Starving hyenas feasting upon his privates.
And those were the least gruesome scenarios of what Guy McCann would rather be facing--or more accurately where he’d rather be at the moment, he thought with a smirk as he waited impatiently in Colonel Carl Garrett’s outer office.
Fort Benning, Georgia--the last damned place on God’s green earth he’d ever wanted to be again.
Though there was absolutely no true humor in the situation, he chuckled darkly anyway. A grenade of nausea sat in his gut, threatening to detonate and his entire body vibrated with the need to flee--to be anywhere but here. It was too much. Too hard. Regret, failure and grief twisted his insides until his fists involuntarily clenched and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, forcing away the image of his fallen friend.
Danny Levinson. Killed in action. His fault.
Guy released a small breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. While other people gazed across the beautiful grounds of Fort Benning proper and saw a rolling landscape dotted with enormous old trees, Guy only saw...hell. His own personal variety, because being here was like being plugged directly into the worst part of himself.
The last time he’d sat outside Garrett’s office it had been to barter for his freedom. He’d thought at the time that he’d be willing to pay any price, would grant Garrett any favor--the Colonel’s fee for pushing their clearance papers through.
Men Out of Uniform: 6 Book Omnibus Page 32
