High-Risk Affair. RaeAnne Thayne

       “Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around?” Megan snapped. “I don’t need a watchdog.”

      Caleb raised an eyebrow. “How about a friend?”

      “You’re not my friend. We both know that. Look, Agent Davis, I know the drill. I’ve watched enough television to know that you have to consider me a suspect. I have no problem with that. Take my DNA, my fingerprints, whatever. But please hurry, so you can quickly rule me out and focus on finding my son…”

      Her chin wobbled a little and she seemed to be fighting for control. It was too much for him, more than he could handle after the dramatic emotions of the day. With a sigh he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. She was perfect there. Soft and womanly, all the things he had been telling himself he could manage without. Her arms slid around his waist, and she rested her head against his chest. Something hard and cold inside him seemed to crack apart, leaving only sweet, healing peace.

       ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      RaeAnne Thayne lives in a graceful old Victorian house nestled in the rugged mountains of northern Utah, along with her husband and two young children. Her books have won numerous honours, including several readers’ choice awards and a RITA® Award nomination by the Romance Writers of America. RaeAnne loves to hear from readers. She can be reached through her website at www.raeannethayne.com or at PO Box 6682, North Logan, UT 84341, USA.

      High-Risk Affair

      RAEANNE THAYNE

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Prologue

      Being a special operative was hard, dangerous work but he wasn’t afraid to sacrifice for his country.

      On his belly in the dirt, pitch-black darkness pressing in on all sides, Cameron Vance adjusted his night vision goggles and tried his best to get his bearings.

      The goggles didn’t really work well here in the deep mining tunnels and he could barely see where he was going, but he knew he’d been in this part before. He recognized the rusted old mine cart and the fork in the tunnel. He pulled out the small penlight and found the small white arrow he’d drawn with chalk on an earlier trip to point the way out.

      By the muted sounds he could hear ahead, he knew he was close to his mission objective—infiltrating a hideout full of Tangos and then taking them down.

      They weren’t supposed to be there. For the last week, he had seen lights flickering up here on the mountain where there shouldn’t be any. Finally a few nights earlier, he decided he would have to investigate. It wouldn’t be easy. He would have to plan an elaborate deception, a daring escape, but he knew he had no choice.

      It was his duty and obligation as a loyal soldier to look out for his country’s interests.

      He had a cover to protect, though, and knew he couldn’t just come and go as he pleased. Finally, when he was sure everyone was asleep, he managed to slip out the window and climb carefully down. He had done it before, but those other times had just been practice. This was for real.

      No one had detected his escape. He’d made sure of that. No one could have seen him leave the house or witnessed his careful hike up the mountain, his way lit only by the moonlight and his memory.

      He moved to the fork in the tunnel, fueled by the adrenaline pumping through him and the deep certainty that what he did here would make the world a better place.

      Others might find the heavy darkness inside the mine shaft a little scary. He knew plenty of guys who probably wouldn’t have the nerve to come in here. But he was a Navy SEAL, a trained fighting machine, and he wasn’t afraid of anything.

      As he headed down the shaft, the light grew brighter and his goggles worked much better, casting a greenish glow on everything. He knew right where the Tangos were hiding—the large chamber he had found in an earlier exploration. It would be a perfect staging spot for whatever evil the terrorists might be planning.

      It smelled strange here, something harsh and burning. He hadn’t remembered that before. Were they planning some kind of chemical attack? he wondered.

      With renewed determination, he moved slowly toward the light, his heart pounding and blood pulsing through him.

      He crawled the last fifteen yards on his belly, ignoring the dank stench and the rocks that scraped his skin.

      The shaft sloped down into the large chamber, perhaps twenty feet across. He didn’t have the best vantage point from up here, but Cameron didn’t dare inch closer for fear they might see him.

      He could hear them clearly enough, anyway.

      “I don’t see the problem here,” one said, his voice sharp and angry. “I kept my part of the deal. I’ve been cooking my ass off for two weeks, working in this tomb here. I’m doing all the work and I deserve a hell of a lot more than some lousy quarter cut.”

      Cameron frowned. Cooking what?

      “You’re getting your fair share. Who’s taking all the risks? I’m the one out there setting up all the deals, working all the angles. I got the ammonia, I made the Mexican connections. Without me, you’d still be in your Beavis and Butt-Head lab cooking your little nickel bags.”

      “And without me all you’d have would be a bunch of worthless chemicals.”

      “You really think you’re so indispensable?”

      The older-sounding man’s voice was low and sent a chill down Cameron’s spine as he crouched in the dirt. That voice seemed familiar, he thought. Where had he heard it before?

      “I found this place for you, didn’t I? Nobody’s ever going to find this lab here. It’s perfect. And you have nothing to complain about with the quality of my product. Pure ice, man.”

      The other man’s laugh sounded rough. “Hate to break it to you, Wally, but good cooks are thick on the ground. Anybody who can follow a recipe can do it. Hell, my aunt Mabel could do it. And she might not have the very unfortunate habit of sampling the merchandise.”

      “Yeah? Well, why don’t you just go drag your aunt Mabel in here to finish this batch? I’m out of here. And maybe I’ll just drop a bug in the Mexicans’ ears about your double-dealing? I doubt they’ll be crazy to know you’ve promised the same shipment to two different parties.”

      A long silence filled the mine and Cameron thought about inching forward for a better look at what was going on, but he decided he would be wise to stay put for now.

      “Surprised you, didn’t I?” the one named Wally said after a minute. “You didn’t think I knew about your little side deal.”

      Cameron listened to their argument with mounting confusion. They didn’t sound like terrorists. What were they talking about? Whatever it was, he thought it would probably be best if he sneaked back out and contacted local authorities. He started to inch down the way he had come, but he’d only gone a few feet when he dislodged a rock. It went rolling down the slope and thudded off the bottom. He could swear his heartbeat sounded like thunder.

      “What was that?” A flashlight beamed in his direction, but Cameron slid farther down the incline to avoid the light.

      “Probably a rat,” Wally said. “The place is lousy with them.”

      “I’m beginning to figure that out,” the other one said in a strange, hard-sounding voice.

      Cameron started to slip farther down the slope, intending to make his way back carefully when he heard a strangled cry from the chamber.

      “What the hell is this?”

      “You’re the smart one. You tell me.”

      “What,