Page 28 of Special Ops Seduction

“He wasn’t on Oz’s list.” Bethan smiled, not entirely for show. “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t know about it, of course.”

Jonas’s easy smile was in place, but his eyes were dark. “I like all of them for it. Pompous, smug, insufferable—”

“High brass comes with a high opinion of itself. You know that.”

“What I know is that you’re a remarkable individual.”

Bethan could still feel the place where his hand had been on the slope of her back. Like a tattoo, she thought,except now it feltalive. Throbbing like a pulse. And something chaotic was taking over her body, charging through her, that she knew she couldn’t allow to take root.

She’d spent years telling herself that it couldn’t. Ever.

But that was hard to remember with him looking at her like that. As if he were outraged on her behalf. And more, actually complimenting her.

She tried to find some kind of witty response, but she couldn’t seem to find any words.

“You were already significantly accomplished in Army Intelligence,” Jonas continued, a little too hot for the smile he was wearing. “But to take that and decide that you wanted to translate your experience into combat? And then do it?”

“They know all of that,” Bethan said lightly. “You know they must.”

“Not one of them has a special ops background. Or as much field experience as you do.”

“Rangers lead the way,” she said again, more softly this time.

Jonas didn’t give the usual answer. “I guess I’m not surprised that a woman like your mother wanted a daughter in a certain mold. But your father should know better.”

“You’re making me blush,” Bethan said, keeping her smile on her face. She was in no danger whatsoever of blushing, though that hollow thing inside her wasn’t exactly comfortable. But she was terribly afraid that this conversation might be the thing that would made her cry after all. And then she would never forgive him. “I had no idea you thought so highly of me. When you go to such epic lengths to make sure I think the opposite.”

“I do nothing of the kind.”

“Sure. Except that you do. Daily.”

He wasn’t smiling any longer. He was the Jonas she knew best, grim-faced and dark. “I’m perfectly aware of your accomplishments, Bethan. You’re a valued member ofthe Alaska Force team, and I take a dim view of individuals who can’t see that. It’s not personal.”

“Oh, certainly notpersonal,” she said in mock horror. “Never that.”

She would have sworn it was a flash of temper she saw in his gaze then, but it was gone in an instant. And then everything was cool and unreadable, as usual.

“I’m going to want serious intel on each and every one of those men,” Jonas said, and smiled, in case anyone was watching them. “Now.”

“Go call it in,” Bethan said coolly. She held her wineglass like it was a weapon, because she couldn’t handle any more of the pretend touching. “I’ve got this.”

And she took it as a personal victory that she didn’t watch him as he walked away.

Eight

“How’s life up there in the hills?” Lucas King drawled when Jonas’s call was connected, with his usual edgy ease. “Down here in the cheap seats, in Goleta, if you’re interested—”

Jonas didn’t quite sigh. “I’m not.”

“—which is Santa Barbara’s sad neighbor, we’re living it up on weak motel coffee and a deep sense of our own martyrdom.”

In the background, Jonas could hear the rest of the team—Rory Lockwood and Jack Herriot—issuing not- entirely-serious accusations about who was the biggest martyr, but he was never one to laugh it up. He scanned the area where he stood, far enough away from the house that no one could sneak up on him. Not unless he wanted them to.

“Martyrdom sounds uncomfortable,” he said flatly when the noise died down on Lucas’s side. “I want Generals Ambrose and Darlington examined on a forensic level. And General Wilcox, while you’re at it.” There was a slight pause at that, but he refused to explain himself or why he wanted Bethan’s father looked at more closely. Mostly because hewasn’t sure he could explain it rationally, and that only made his temper kick at him harder. “I don’t like any of them.”

“Are you supposed to?” Lucas asked, more edge than ease this time. “As far as I know, the entire purpose of a general is to be hated and loathed by the rank and file.”

No one in Alaska Force had been considered true rank and file for some time, even before they’d left the service. But Jonas was already provoked. He didn’t need to let it get the better of him.

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