Texas…Now and Forever by Merline Lovelace

stopped. Literally. She felt it thump, then contract, then simply die. She sat frozen, every nerve turning to ice as she stared at the strong, tanned face above the open collar of a crisp white shirt.
    Her utter lack of response might have daunted a lesser man. Not this one. His mouth curving into a half grin, he deposited two mugs on the table.
    â€œI figured if I brought one for each of us, I might just get lucky and be invited to join you.”
    She couldn’t speak. She didn’t dare. She prayed he’d take the hint and go away. Instead he seemed to regard her silence as a personal challenge. Not waiting for an invitation, he claimed the chair opposite hers.
    â€œThe waiter said you’re not from around here. But when you first walked in, I could have sworn I knew you.”
    Her pulse kicked in with a painful surge. Panic raced along her iced-over nerves as his gaze lingered on her eyes, her nose, her carefully sculpted cheekbones.
    â€œHave we met somewhere?” he probed, sprawling loose-limbed and comfortable in his chair. “Dallas, maybe? New York?”
    She had to answer. She couldn’t sit mute any longer. But it took everything she had to infuse her voice with polite disinterest.
    â€œIf we’ve met, I don’t seem to recall it.”
    His grin widened at the deliberate put-down.
    â€œGuess I’ll have to see what I can do to make a more lasting impression this time.”
    Blue eyes gleaming, he tipped two fingers to the brim of his summer straw Stetson. “The name’s Luke. Luke Callaghan.”

Five
    T he blond stranger had drawn Luke across the bar like the scent of doe drew a stag. Not only was she gorgeous, but she’d appeared at the Saddlebag at just the right moment.
    Luke had piled up almost three weeks of idle time since wrapping up a particularly nerve-bending covert operation deep inside a breakaway Russian republic. He was already bored with the free-wheeling playboy lifestyle he adopted between jobs for the shadowy government agency that had recruited him after he’d separated from the marines. He needed a distraction, and this delicious blonde certainly constituted that.
    She’d hooked his interest the moment she walked into the Saddlebag. From a distance, she was stunning. Up close, she thoroughly intrigued him. Take the way she stared at him. Those huge brown eyes seemed to look right through him. Then there was the little hesitation before she returned his greeting. Her aristocratic nose quivered,and he could have sworn her hands trembled before she buried them in her lap.
    If he made her nervous, she recovered quickly enough. Inclining her head in a regal nod, she acknowledged his introduction.
    â€œHow do you do, Mr. Callaghan?”
    Luke had traveled extensively, both in the marines and in the dangerous operations that now took him to all parts of the globe. He placed her soft, lilting accent without difficulty. She was British. From London, probably, but she spoke with an odd inflection that he couldn’t quite pin down.
    â€œI answer better to Luke,” he replied, waiting for her to reciprocate and offer her name. When she didn’t, the decidedly male interest she’d piqued when she’d walked into the Saddlebag took on an added dimension. Now she stirred not only his masculinity. She challenged the rather unique skills he’d acquired over the past few years.
    Only a handful of people knew about those skills. Or that Luke Callaghan now worked for an organization so secret its name would never appear on any governmental organizational chart. Luke hadn’t told anyone in Mission Creek about being recruited by OP-12, even his four best buddies.
    Three best buddies, he corrected with an inner grimace.
    The thought of Ricky Mercado, who’d oncebeen closer than any brother, itched like a raw scab that refused to heal. Luke missed Ricky’s friendship. He missed the good times they’d had, both at