Destiny's Woman. Lindsay McKenna

ection>

      

      USA Today bestselling author LINDSAY MCKENNA brings you another action-packed, emotion-filled story featuring the men and women of MORGAN’S MERCENARIES!

      “What’s happening?” Akiva asked unsteadily.

      “Nothing that isn’t good, gal,” Joe whispered rawly, holding her hand up in his larger one. “You deserve some goodness in your life, Akiva. I’m sorry for what happened to you. I wish…well, if I’d been there…”

      Warmth and happiness suffused her unexpectedly. Akiva pulled her hand free because she was suddenly frightened by how she was feeling. Wrestling with the happiness throbbing through her chest and warming her lower body, she folded her hands deep in her lap. The tender flame burning in Joe’s gray eyes nearly unstrung her. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, to dislike about this man. And that scared her badly.

      “Lindsay McKenna continues to leave her distinctive mark on the romance genre with…timeless tales about the healing powers of love.”

      —Affaire de Coeur

      LINDSAY MCKENNA

      Morgan’s Mercenaries: Ultimate Rescue

      When an earthquake rocks Southern California to the core, it’s up to the men and women of Morgan’s team to save lives, conquer danger—and discover love!

      The Heart Beneath

      Destiny’s Woman

      Lindsay McKenna

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

       Before you start reading, why not sign up?

      Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

       SIGN ME UP!

      Or simply visit

      signup.millsandboon.co.uk

      Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

      To KaraHand’s Home in Lower Hutt, New Zealand,

       and the heart-centered women who care for those in need:

       Helen Henderson, RN, homeopath, Deborah Mustard, RN,

       Reiki healer, and Cathy Garton, RN, homeopath.

       I salute the “Coyote Sisters,” who work with the disabled,

       the mentally handicapped, the children who require

       twenty-four-hour-a-day attention. Thank you for being

       there to help so that the parents of these children can have

       a day off from their labors of love. You are truly pioneers

       in this area of help for such families. I honor your

       compassion toward those in need. Truly, the three of you

       are Jaguar Clan members in the finest tradition of healers

       for our world. Thank you for being who you are—

       great role models for the rest of us to follow.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Epilogue

      Chapter 1

      “Maya, you can’t ask me to go on a mission of this type with a male copilot in the back seat of my Apache helicopter,” Akiva said as she sat tensely in the chair before her commanding officer. Her words were low and tortured. Pleading. Without realizing it, Akiva curled her fingers into fists on her tense thighs. Anxiously, she searched her C.O.’s narrowed, emerald eyes for her reaction.

      Sighing, Maya sat back in her creaky chair, which had seen better days. Ordinarily, at the Black Jaguar Squadron headquarters, hidden deep in the Peruvian jungle about fifty miles from Machu Picchu, everyone got along with everyone else. Because of the importance of their mission, the U.S. Army had upgraded their facility from a base to squadron status. The change was good for morale, as well. Rarely was there an outburst of dissension such as the one Chief Warrant Officer Akiva Redtail was giving her right now. Propping her fingertips together, Maya leaned back and gave Akiva time to settle down.

      “Look,” Maya finally murmured in her husky voice, “the Perseus psychologist, Jenny Wright, came down here earlier this month and interviewed everyone who wanted to volunteer for these upcoming missions. Of all the applicants, she chose you to lead this clandestine jungle mission in Mexico. Jenny lobbied hard for you, Akiva, despite the fact that she’s more than a little aware of your prejudice against Anglo men.”

      Akiva’s nostrils flared and her eyes flashed with anger. “I’ve made no bones about my prejudice toward white men, Maya. I never have.”

      “Which is what got you in so much hot water when we were being trained to fly the Apache gunships at the army helicopter facility back in Fort Rucker.”

      “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, “I’m guilty as charged.”

      As Maya studied Akiva, who was one of her best combat helicopter pilots, she withheld the bulk of her comments, knowing they would only hurt or inflame Akiva at this point. She knew Akiva well from years of working with the stalwart woman pilot. Akiva was half Chiricahua Apache and half Lakota Sioux, and a warrior of her people. The red headband Akiva wore indicated she had passed all the brutal physical and mental trials the Apache people had challenged her with in order to reach warrior status. Not only that, Akiva proudly wore what was known as the third braid of the warrior, as well. Her waist-length, lustrous black hair was down today, the small braid, which began at the center part, hung down among the thick locks streaming across her proud shoulder. Only an Apache who had fulfilled specific demanding tasks could wear such a braid.

      Because Maya wanted Akiva to embrace who she was, as she did every woman pilot at Black Jaguar Squadron, she allowed her to proudly wear the signs of her warrior status. After all, the prejudice against them as women combat pilots had been horrendous enough. Though the army was struggling mightily against old prejudices against women, Maya knew it was a wound that would be long in healing for most of the women pilots. Akiva certainly hadn’t taken to being treated like a second-class citizen at Fort Rucker, where she and Maya and many of the other female pilots on the squadron had trained.

      Leaning forward, Maya placed her elbows on her cluttered desk and slowly clasped her hands together. Akiva’s face was filled with anger, hurt and confusion. Not surprising, since she was the most aggressive gunship pilot at the base—she’d bagged a Russian Kamov to prove it. Akiva was Maya’s best pilot. Maybe it was her Apache