The Reunion Mission. Beth Cornelison
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opened, and a soldier stepped out, shining a flashlight toward the camp. When the beam passed over Alec, Daniel tensed. Just as the man swung the light back and opened his mouth to shout a warning to the camp, Daniel fired a single head shot, and the soldier crumpled. Despite the silencer muffling the gun’s noise, Daniel knew someone could have heard the telltale pop. They had to hurry.
By unspoken agreement, Alec set a faster pace toward the fenced area where Nicole was being held. Farther down, they encountered two more guards, playing a game with dice as they monitored the cache of arms stacked in crates under a tarp. Skulking through the night like panthers, Alec and Daniel snuck up on the duo and took them out, as well.
All clear.
With Alec keeping watch, Daniel hurried to the fenced area where the rebels held their captives. The cages holding the prisoners were little more than dog pens, and two teepeed sheets of rotting plywood provided Nicole’s only protection from the elements. Rage flashed through Daniel seeing the squalid conditions in which Nicole had been forced to live. Gritting his teeth, he funneled his fury into cutting through the fencing of her cage, then crawled to the tented plywood where she slept.
She wasn’t alone. Daniel frowned but dismissed the small form huddled beside her. His mandate was clear. Nicole was his only objective.
Shifting his attention, Daniel held his breath as he caught his first up-close glimpse of Nicole in five years. Her long slender legs and feet were bare. Dirty cargo shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt hugged her womanly curves, and the fetal position in which she slept heightened his sense of her vulnerability. Her arms pillowed her head, and her tangled blond hair spilled over her cheek. Even disheveled and grimy, she was still every bit as beautiful as he remembered.
Daniel’s heart performed a tuck and roll, and he allowed himself the briefest moment just to look at her and thank God she appeared unharmed. But even a few seconds of delay were an indulgence, and he steeled himself for the task ahead. It was go time.
Five years earlier
Daniel stood at attention, watching the parade of national and state dignitaries dressed in their best black-tie finery make their way into the governor’s Mardi Gras ball. His buddies at the New Orleans Naval Air Station thought he was crazy for volunteering to work security for the ball. But when he’d heard that Louisiana Senator Alan White would be attending, he’d known he couldn’t be anywhere else that night.
Daniel had prepped his Navy dress whites for the event, counting on the other rumor he’d heard to be true—since his wife’s death last year, Senator White had brought his daughter, Nicole, as his companion to public events such as this.
Even as he conjured a memory of the last time he’d seen Nicole, a limo flying American flags from the antennae pulled up to the front drive of the antebellum mansion where the ball was underway. Daniel held his breath as Senator White emerged from the backseat, then turned to offer his hand to someone inside the limo. A chill filled the air that February evening, but the weather had nothing to do with the tremor that rolled through Daniel as a graceful young blonde woman stepped out onto the driveway. An ice-blue chiffon gown hugged her curves, and she molded her mouth into a stiff smile as she started toward the stairs on the senator’s arm. Jeweled combs winked in the porch lights and held her long hair swept up in a twist, exposing the slim column of her neck.
Daniel tracked her progress with his gaze as she approached, his mouth dry and his gut in knots. With her hand tucked in the crook of her father’s arm, Nicole cast a surveying glance to the other partygoers, issuing perfunctory greetings. The politician’s daughter, groomed in social graces and good public relations. American nobility, so far out of his league Daniel had to squelch the urge to laugh in bitter irony at the lengths he’d gone to tonight just for a chance to see her again. His studious gaze caught her attention, and Daniel flashed her a lopsided grin. “Hello, Nicole.”
Her steps faltered, and a look of confusion dented her brow. “Do I—?”
Daniel blew out a deep breath. He’d been crazy to think she’d remember him after so many years.
But then her face brightened, and she pulled her arm free of her father’s to step closer to Daniel. “Boudreaux!”
His heart kicked up a zydeco beat as she seized his hand and squeezed his fingers. “Boudreaux? Is that you?”
He grimaced mentally. As much as he’d wanted her to remember him, her use of the derogatory nickname her friends had given him didn’t bode well for what she remembered about him. He tugged his mouth into an awkward smile. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Delight lit her eyes and brightened her grin, and hope stirred in his chest.
“Oh, my God! Look at you!” She canted forward, circling his shoulders with her arms and pressing a social kiss to his cheek.
Stunned by her hug, he was a beat too slow returning the embrace, and his brain snagged when the sweet floral scent of her hair hit him. His body’s reaction to her touch, her scent was immediate and carnal.
Still holding the sleeves of his dress whites jacket, she levered back and let her gaze take in the length of him. “I almost didn’t recognize you in this impressive attire.” She flashed a flirtatious grin and tugged at the breast of his jacket. “Good Lord, everything they say about a man in uniform is true!”
Daniel rallied his senses, determined not to come off as a flustered sap and to preserve the dignity his uniform required. “You look beautiful, too.”
Understatement. She was breathtaking. He’d thought so five years ago on her prom night, when he’d been his cousin’s date and met Nicole for the first time.
“Nicole!” Senator White had backtracked to fetch his wayward daughter, not quite managing to hide his irritation. “What’s going on?”
Had she been hugging the son of one of his golf buddies rather than a security guard, the senator wouldn’t have been nearly so piqued, Daniel wagered.
Nicole extended a hand to her father, waving him closer. “Daddy, I want you to meet someone. This is—” She hesitated, cutting an embarrassed look to Daniel.
“Daniel LeCroix,” he finished, offering his hand to the senator before she defaulted to the nickname that mocked his bayou roots.
She twitched her lips in an apologetic grin. “Daniel. Of course! Forgive me. I’m just awful with names!”
Her father arched an eyebrow and heaved a sigh. “To my chagrin. She once called the chairman of armed services by his predecessor’s name.”
Folding Daniel’s free hand between her hands, she faced her father again. “Daniel is the boy who brought me home from prom my junior year.” When her father’s expression remained blank, she added pointedly, “He’s the one who rescued Boudreaux from the storm drain for me!”
Adrenaline kicked Daniel’s pulse, and he jerked a startled glance toward her. Boudreaux? She’d named the kitten—?
Nicole met his questioning look with a secret smile. “What else would I name him?”
“Ah, yes. Your cat. I remember now. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Daniel.” The senator offered Nicole his arm, and his raised eyebrows, warning her it was time to go inside. “Nicole, this young man has a job to do, and our hosts are waiting.”
Facing Daniel, she squeezed his hand and gave him a lopsided smile of regret. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Daniel.”
He returned a polite smile. Don’t leave. “You, too, Nicole.” Then to the senator, “Sir.”
The senator met his gaze with a hard look that darted to Daniel’s rank insignia on his uniform. “Lieutenant.”
The senator’s tone carried a warning, a reminder of Daniel’s place and the social gap between a boy from the bayou and the senator’s well-bred daughter. As if Daniel needed reminding. Though he was proud of his Cajun roots, he was always striving to be better than