clear in his eyes, and written all over his face. The fat lady had sung, and the curtain was coming down.
And a half hour later, as Shane heard the extraction helo thrumming overhead, as he injected himself—this time for real—with that dose of the heavy-duty painkiller that Rick had given him, he knew it wouldn’t be long now before the hammer came down, too.
As the drug dulled his senses and surrounded him with a cushion of warmth and odd indifference, he was pulled aboard the gunship, where the medics immediately went to work on his ankle. And Shane knew they were going above and beyond to keep it from becoming a career-ending injury.
But Magic was right. His superiors up the chain of command were going to crucify him.
It was over.
He was over.
And in the last few moments before Shane succumbed to unconsciousness, he wondered what would become of him, where he would go, what he would do.
As hard as it was going to be to lose Ashley, her impending, inevitable defection would sadden but not crush him.
But losing his command? Being dishonorably discharged?
Being a SEAL was everything to him. It had defined him since he was barely even ten years old. He’d worked, his entire life, to be the best of the best.
Still Shane knew with a certainty that warmed him even more deeply than the drug, that he’d made the right choice, he’d done the right thing. Tomasin was safe. His team was safe.
He might be over.
But he was far from done.
For Jules and Robin.
For Sam and Alyssa.
For Tom and Kelly and Max and Gina and Izzy and Jenk and Tony and Gillman and all the others who have so completely come to life that readers frequently email to ask me how you’re doing.
And for the readers who believe.
BY SUZANNE BROCKMANN
FIGHTING DESTINY SERIES
Born to Darkness
TROUBLESHOOTERS SERIES
The Unsung Hero
The Defiant Hero
Over the Edge
Out of Control
Into the Night
Gone Too Far
Flashpoint
Hot Target
Breaking Point
Into the Storm
Force of Nature
All Through the Night
Into the Fire
Dark of the Night
Hot Pursuit
Breaking the Rules
Headed for Trouble
SUNRISE KEY SERIES
Kiss and Tell
The Kissing Game
Otherwise Engaged
OTHER BOOKS
Heartthrob
Forbidden
Freedom’s Price
Body Language
Stand-in Groom
Time Enough for Love
infamous
Ladies’ Man
Bodyguard
Future Perfect
Did Shane sweep you off your feet?
Then you won’t want to miss
BORN TO DARKNESS
Read on for an excerpt of this thrilling novel.…
Shane was winning when she walked in.
His plan was a simple one: spend a few hours here in this lowlife bar, and win enough money playing pool to take the T down to Copley Square, where there were a cluster of expensive hotels. Hit one of the hotel bars, where the women not only had all of their teeth, but they also had corporate expense accounts and key cards to the comfortable rooms upstairs.
But drinks there were pricey. Shane had spent his remaining fifty-eight seconds at the Kenmore comm-station checking menus, and he knew he’d need at least twenty dollars merely to sit at the bar and nurse a beer. Fifty to buy a lady a drink. And expense account or not, you had to be ready to start the game by buying the lady a drink.
But then she walked in—or rather, limped in. She was smaller than the average woman, and slight of build. She’d also injured her foot, probably her ankle, but other than that, she carried herself like an operator. She’d certainly scanned the room like one as she’d come in.
Which was when Shane had gotten a hit from her eyes. They were pale, and he couldn’t tell from this distance whether they were blue or green or even a light shade of brown. But the color didn’t matter; it was the glimpse he got of the woman within that had made him snap to attention—internally, that is.
She looked right at him, gave him some direct eye contact, then assessed him. She took a very brief second to appreciate his handsome face and trim form, catalogued him, and finally dismissed him.
Of course, he was playing the role of the hick just off the turnip truck—he would have dismissed himself, too, had he just walked in.
Shane watched from the corner of his eye as she sat at the bar, shrugged out of her jacket to reveal a black tank top, then pulled off her hat and scarf. She was completely tattoo-free—at least in all of the traditional places that he could currently see.
Her light-colored hair was cut short and was charmingly messed. But it was the back of her neck that killed him. Long and slender and pale, it was so utterly feminine—almost in