Capturing the Commando. Colleen Thompson

need for her cooperation.

      He could kill her with his bare hands for the insult she had offered. Almost worse in her mind, he could try to break her will. Considering both his training and the places where his missions had taken him, he would be well acquainted with dozens of methods of coercion, from beatings that wouldn’t show to the kind of torture that would scar her soul forever.

      Not him. He could never…

      Yet despite her efforts to convince herself, she could feel her body recoiling, could hear the trembling of her own exhalation. Her head throbbed with the effort of containing boundless terror.

      My father didn’t show fear, not even when that drug lord shoved the muzzle underneath his jaw. And my brother wouldn’t, either, so I’ll be damned if I will, no matter what he does.

      The Ranger let go of her and looked away, then resumed his pacing.

      To prove she wouldn’t be cowed, she forced herself to speak again, to swallow past the hard lump in her throat. “There’s more, Rafe. More we found during our investigation.”

      “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he asked. “I damned well don’t want to hear this.”

      “If you don’t want to hear it, then you’d better gag me.” She shrugged, struggling to look as though she couldn’t care less. To look like a strong woman in a tough spot, rather than the quivering mass of nerves she felt like behind the mask. “Though you’ll have to admit, that would probably put a damper on the team-building aspect of this operation. Even more, I think, than leaving a goose egg on my forehead or these bruises on my arms.”

      His gaze flicked to the reddened fingerprints on her forearms, and a troubled look passed over his face. Raking his hand through his black hair, he shook his head and said, “Fine, then. Say whatever it is you think you have to tell me. I won’t promise to listen—but you don’t have to worry that I’ll hurt you for it.”

      Shannon wouldn’t bet her life on that, then realized that in a way, she did with her next words. “The weekend before Lissa’s murder, Garrett played golf with his neighbor. The same neighbor who mentioned he was about to fly to California with his family, leaving his Ford Explorer locked up in the garage.”

      Rafe stared at her, the color draining from his face. “The same SUV the killers stole and drove to Florida? You’re telling me that this guy told him about it?”

      Relieved beyond measure that something she had said had sunk in, Shannon nodded. “Garrett knew,” she said. “Knew it would take days for the theft to be discovered. And more than that, his neighbor gave him a spare house key and asked Garrett to bring in a package he was expecting.”

      “Which would’ve given him access to the garage.”

      “I have the man’s sworn statement. When the family came home, they discovered the SUV keys missing from the kitchen counter where he’d left them. But nothing else was taken, nothing but that Ford Explorer.”

      Speculation narrowed Rafe’s eyes before he turned his suspicious gaze on her. “So that’s it? That’s all you have? A little online flirtation and some neighbor dumb enough to leave his keys in plain sight of a window? And if he told Garrett he was going, who else might have known? Or mentioned it to their friends?”

      She nodded, deciding to hold off for now on telling him about the hotel receipts that put Garrett Smith’s affair well beyond the level of flirtation and try a new tack. “We were also concerned about his ties to online hackers.”

      Rafe shrugged it off. “Sometimes he recruits them to test their skills against a database or a network he’s securing. Bomb-proofing his security work with a little friendly fire makes a lot of sense to me. Besides, those hackers are the ones who’ve helped us put everything together. They might also be the key to finding those babies and the people who paid big bucks to adopt them.”

      Shannon wondered how many of the parents knew the true facts behind the adoptions they were paying for in the form of exorbitant fees. And how many hearts would shatter when the hideous truth unfolded. Yet she couldn’t let that be her worry, not with so many families desperate to find their stolen children, children who were the last, most sacred legacies of the women who’d been lost.

      “You haven’t given me a shred of proof that Garrett’s involved,” said Rafe. “You’re only tossing pebbles at a window—distracting me enough to get me worrying about him. Of course, that’s the way I would’ve played it, too. More subtle like that, don’t you think? Better to work the wedge of doubt in slowly, instead of pounding it so hard it shatters.”

      Shannon blew an impatient breath through pursed lips. Of course it couldn’t be easy. Not with Rafe so aware of her desperation to derail him, to bring him in to save her career. And maybe their lives, too, because she had seen enough to know that in an operation, almost anything could happen. Including outcomes no one involved intended. “Just think about it. That’s all I ask. Pay attention to how he acts, to anything that doesn’t feel right.”

      This time, when Rafe narrowed his eyes, there was nothing fleeting about his suspicion. “You are good, Special Agent Brandt. You’re damned good. But you’ve got one huge shortcoming in this situation.”

      “You mean other than the handcuffs, stun gun, weapons, and huge height and weight advantages you’ve got on me?” she asked sarcastically, her headache flaring as she rolled her eyes.

      This time, when he reached toward her, his touch was gentle, almost playful, as he flicked his callused fingertips beneath her chin. “Your main problem is, I’m better. And I’ve been two steps ahead of you from the very start.”

      Chapter Four

      Shannon’s unruffled demeanor impressed the hell out of Rafe. She was either almost unbelievably cool under pressure or the finest actress he had ever met.

      “How ’bout unlocking these cuffs now?” she asked him. “It’s darned awkward, using the restroom, and besides, I’d really like to catch a shower if I could.”

      “A shower,” he echoed flatly. “With everything that’s going on, you’re thinking about soap and water and fluffy towels?”

      Her smile hinted that, as with everything else she’d said and done since awakening, this new ploy had its purpose. “Fluffy towels? In this place? If that happened, it would be the second-biggest surprise of my day so far.”

      “If you’re thinking of escaping, you should know that the bathroom has no windows,” he warned. “And if you’re thinking about potential weapons, I’ll be searching you before I let you out. Thoroughly.”

      She stood and approached him, her shackled hands raised and her palms turned up as if in supplication. But there was nothing pleading in her eyes, only the glint of mild amusement. Maddening amusement, just short of mockery.

      Or was it something else? Was she coming on to him now? Thinking to seduce her way out of this? Trying to get him worked up with the thought of her tight curves beneath the sluicing water—lathered, naked and hotter than the tropical late-summer night?

      He nearly groaned aloud at his body’s immediate reaction. Damn her anyway, for trotting out this tactic. Why couldn’t she stick with something simple, like attempting to claw his eyes out or kick every woman’s favorite target up through the roof of his mouth? Those threats, he was equipped to deal with, just as he had been with her attempt to poison his mind against Garrett.

      “I promise, I’m not thinking of anything but rinsing the dried blood out of my hair and the grit off of my skin,” she said innocently.

      As if he bought that act for a second.

      Confirming his suspicions, she added, “I’m also thinking we could have a long wait for your friend Garrett to come back. A very long wait…if he ever comes back at all.”

      “He’ll be back, all right, though I’m thinking it might take him a while to work up the