Accidental Commando by Ingrid Weaver

didn’t know how the major had managed to get the hotel to agree to that. The travel agency had insisted that everything was nonrefundable. Obviously, the army had more clout than she did.
    There was a tap on the door. “Miss Wright?”
    Though he had spoken almost as softly as he’d knocked, Emily instantly recognized Tyler’s voice. She pushed away from the window, snatching her robe from the floor as she passed the bed. “Just a minute.”
    She fumbled to tie the belt. The robe was new, like most of the things in her suitcase. The silk was as slippery as water and only fell to mid-thigh, but it was better than nothing. Then again, Tyler had already seen her in nothing, hadn’t he?
    She scowled, annoyed that she was still dwelling on that. She shouldn’t think of him as a man. She had to think of him as a source. From now on, their relationship was strictly business. This story could change her life. Besides the possible benefits to her bank account and to her future career, the work was giving her something positive to focus on. And God knows, she needed that. This was the first morning in weeks that she’d actually looked forward to getting out of bed.
    She yanked the door open. “What’s going on?”
    Tyler didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gave her a long perusal from her bed-head hair to her bare feet.
    Emily couldn’t seem to find her voice, either. He was wearing a suit today. A dark gray one, along with a white shirt and a steel-blue tie that made his eyes look fabulous. His body was totally covered. Not so much as a hint of bare muscle or hair-fuzzed skin was showing, yet she knew it was there. She’d thought he looked sexy in a golf shirt and jeans. That was nothing compared to the effect of this large hunk of masculinity that was standing in front of her in a tailored suit and… She glanced down. He was wearing his cowboy boots. They’d been buffed for the occasion, but they still carried the scars of hard and probably interesting use.
    There was something intriguing about a man who wore boots with a suit. As if he set limits on how civilized he was willing to be.
    “My shift starts in forty minutes,” he said.
    She blew out her breath, then raked her hair off her face, curled her fingers and gave her scalp a brisk scrape with her nails. She needed to get some blood flowing to her brain. Strictly business, she reminded herself. The major had agreed to let her accompany the men. Obviously, he was being true to his word on this, too, so she didn’t want to squander her first opportunity to get some good material. “What will you be doing?”
    “Accompanying the envoy. She has a breakfast meeting with President Gorrell in an hour.”
    Norberto Gorrell, the President of Rocama. A genuine head of state. Emily needed a moment for the reality of that to sink in. No wonder Tyler was wearing a suit. “Where?”
    “Here in the palace.”
    She fiddled with her belt while she mentally cataloged everything in her suitcase. God, what was she going to wear? Men had it lucky. All they needed was one suit and they were done.
    “We’ll clear the room beforehand, so we won’t actually be attending the meeting,” he said. “We’ll be taking up a post in the hall.”
    “Okay. Sounds easy enough.”
    “We can’t relax for an instant, Miss Wright.”
    “You don’t think El Gato could get into this palace, do you?”
    “We have to operate on the assumption that no location is completely secure.”
    She nodded. These were good quotes for her article. She should be taping them, but she hadn’t brought her recorder. She hadn’t brought her laptop, either. Not for a vacation. At least she did have her digital camera. She wished she’d thought to grab some of the hotel’s stationery before she’d checked out. “Would you have a pad of paper I could borrow?”
    “Why?”
    “It’s for taking notes.”
    He hesitated. For a moment he seemed uncomfortable. “I’ll see what I can