www.millsandboon.co.uk

      When not working as an office manager for a project management firm or juggling plotlines, Kira Sinclair spends her time on a small farm in north Alabama shared with her wonderful husband, two amazing daughters and a menagerie of animals. It’s amazing to see how this self-proclaimed city girl has (or has not, depending on who you ask) adapted to country life. Over the past several years Kira has used her Thursday posts at The Writing Playground to vent about the exploits of the donkey, goats, geese and any other animals that wander home with her husband. However, those posts did not prepare her for the joy of seeing her books in print. Kira enjoys hearing from her readers at www.KiraSinclair.com. Or stop by www.writingplayground.blogspot.com and join in the fight to stop the acquisition of an alpaca.

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      I want to dedicate this book to the men and women

      serving our country. Thank you for your service,

      dedication and sacrifice.

      Thanks to Lynn Raye Harris and her husband, Mike,

      who assisted me with my Air Force information.

      Any mistakes are solely my own.

      Lastly, I want to thank my mother and father for

      their support, guidance and love. They gave me

      the confidence to believe in myself, the vision to

      achieve my dreams and a healthy appreciation

      for the value of hard work. I love you!

       1

       Eleven months ago

      “HEY, MAGNET, what about her?”

      Chase Carden cringed as his friend’s voice boomed through the Las Vegas casino bar. Jackson was an excellent pilot, a stand-up guy and a great friend but he had no concept of volume control. Or the fact that while Jackson was loudly trying to scout out a female candidate for the one-night stand Chase’s buddies were hell-bent on finding him, Chase was studiously ignoring their efforts.

      Not that the redhead halfway across the bar wasn’t beautiful or amenable if her stare was anything to go by. But even as her lips twitched up in a seductive smile and her eyes narrowed with appraising interest, Chase just couldn’t work up the energy to care.

      He wasn’t interested. Not in a one-night stand with a woman he’d never met. Six months ago he’d have pushed through the throng of people, leaned down into her space and turned on the charisma that had earned him his call sign in the first place. Lately, it wasn’t worth the effort. Sure as hell not three days before leaving for war. There was something about the looming experience that changed your perspective.

      Yes, he was proud to go and serve his country. It’s what he’d signed up to do. Flying planes was what he excelled at. But knowing there was the possibility he might not come back…

      “Why don’t you go close the deal, Jackhammer? All I want right now is a night out with the boys.”

      “Shit. Anyone hearing you talk would think you’re pussy whooped. I know for a fact you haven’t been anywhere near a pussy for months. You need some action boy, before you spend the better part of a year looking at nothing more than sand.”

      A loud wave of laughter erupted from the twelve guys around him. Part of him could appreciate the joke. Most of him didn’t. “Don’t make me knock some sense into that thick skull of yours, Jackhammer.”

      The fact that Jackson was right didn’t help any.

      “Next round’s on Jackson.”

      Another rousing yell of approval shook the wall behind his back as Jackson threw him a nasty look. Chase just grinned at him. That’s what he got for opening his big mouth.

      “You having a good time?” Mark leaned across their table and spoke above the noise of raised voices and slot machines filtering into the bar.

      “Yeah. Sure.” As good a time as possible, he supposed.

      “What about that little blonde down at the end of the bar?”

      “Not you, too.”

      Raising his hands, Mark chuckled. “Hey man, no hurt in looking.”

      “What would Nicole think if she heard you say that?”

      The sheepish grin on his face had Chase chuckling too, and looking down the bar.

      “Holy shit.”

      Twelve heads whipped around to stare at Chase, conversations silencing throughout the tables. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, certainly not loud enough to stop his buddies in their tracks. Clamping his jaw shut, the reverberating shock spiked through his muscles down into his neck.

      The one woman he’d never thought to see again, the one woman who’d dwelled in the back of his mind for the past six years, was sitting smack-dab at the end of the bar.

      Three days before he was scheduled to fly halfway across the world to Iraq.

      “WHAT