Bull (Red, Hot, & Blue) (10 page)

Vicki dismissed the feeling of shame her arousal at corresponding with this guy caused. Chances were she’d never meet him, so what harm could a little online crush do? Besides, she figured since her next assignment would have her heading into war-torn Afghanistan, she couldn’t be prepared enough. Milblogs were about as real a taste of what to expect as she could get for now.

As usual, the milblog’s author, screen name Groundpounder, had responded to her blog comment with one of his own. Vicki felt the warmth grow and spread throughout her belly as she read it.

My dear Vicki V,

So glad you liked the last post. As you can see by my newest blog entry, I’ve been buried deep, and not in a good way.

Enjoy.

Groundpounder

After reading his brief but suggestive reply twice, and growing warmer with each reading, she moved on to the new blog post he had alluded to. He had named this installment “The Weather is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful.”

Vicki smiled, appreciating yet another one of Groundpounder’s frequent Jimmy Buffet song references, and began to scroll through the post she’d anxiously been awaiting on her cell’s small screen.

The next time our B-team leader acts like the sky is falling, I guess I will have to listen to him, because the sky actually fell. Or at least, it rained enough to cave in the roof of one of our mud huts, nearly crushing eleven sleeping men and successfully burying all the equipment in the operations center that couldn’t be thrown out the door before the collapse. That was almost two weeks ago and, forgive me, but it’s been that long since my last blog post. Here’s a rundown of what happened during that time…

After a few hours of digging that morning—and let us not forget I had just gotten off twenty-four hours of guard duty when the shit, or shall we say the mud, started to fly—we found a few more of the guys’ personal items and cleared a small portion of the rubble. We finally called it quits, at which time the now displaced Joes had to be packed into rooms with the rest of us. So now Sergeant Wallace is sharing our already too small quarters with the squad leader and me.

It took until yesterday to completely clear all of the mess and recover what survived the collapse, and that was on top of all of our usual duties. Luckily, the crappy, rainy weather kept the baddies at bay for a lot of that time. Not one Joe complained about the loss of items or the extra work. We were lucky no lives were lost that day. Tomorrow, we may not be so lucky.

Vicki read the post and sighed. This guy never failed to tug at her heartstrings. At least this time, Groundpounder
hadn’t managed to make her cry as he had so often in the past.

“What’s got you sighing so big? What are you reading there on your cellie, love?”

Vicki looked up to find Mel, her favorite Australian cameraman, and felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She seriously hoped the fact she was lusting over a strange blogger wasn’t written all over her face. “Hey there, Mel. Just a milblog written by a US soldier deployed in Afghanistan. I got approved for the assignment I requested. I’m getting sent to Kandahar. I figure I better get the feel of the country before I get there.”

Mel bobbed his sandy-haired head. He straddled the chair next to her and sat. “So you’re definitely going then?”

Vicki nodded, excited. “It wasn’t easy getting the magazine to agree, but I really think it’s important to have a female’s take on the progress in that country as far as women’s rights.”

“I’ve spent a bit of time in Afghanistan myself. I’d love to chew the fat about it with you over a beer…or maybe breakfast.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Handsome in a rugged, Indiana Jones kind of way and over-the-top flirty while always managing to remain a gentleman—that was Mel. Too bad Vicki had a no-dating-men-at-work policy. Actually, it was a fairly new policy enacted about a year ago after the disastrous ending to her ill-fated relationship with a co-worker.

The problem with the no-dating-at-work plan, however, was that Vicki only met men at work. Her self-imposed ban had led to an extremely long dry spell in her dating, and more importantly, in her sex life. Even so, she planned to stick with the resolve. She’d figure out a way to iron out the kinks in the plan later. But the globetrotting ladies’ man Mel and his proposal, as charming as his Australian accent was, still were definitely off limits.

Vicki laughed. “Thanks, Mel. I’ll keep that in mind.” He probably wouldn’t know what to do with himself if she ever said yes to him anyway.

As usual, Mel grinned good-naturedly at her sidestepping around his flirting and winked. “I hope you will, Vicki, and if things do get dodgy in Afghanistan, give me a jingle. I know some blokes there.”

“I bet you do.” Vicki had no doubt that after all the time he spent embedded as a cameraman there, the man was familiar with Afghanistan. She would definitely not hesitate to call or email him if things got
dodgy
, as he had put it.

A door in the wall behind the podium opened and the prime minister, along with his entourage, funneled into the room, interrupting Vicki’s thoughts.

Mel rose from the chair with a sigh. “Time to go and make a quid.” He hooked a thumb back toward his video camera set up on a tripod along the sidewall.

The best way to heal a broken heart is to jump right back on the horse. So to speak…

Jack

© 2010 Cat Johnson

Red, Hot, & Blue, Book 2

After watching the girl he’s crushed on for years fall for his best friend, the last thing special operative Jack Gordon wants is a vacation. If cooling his heels doesn’t drive him crazy, doing it under his family’s scrutiny will.

But once he’s back home things get more than a little interesting. The new farm hand is cute, sexy—and his instincts tell him she’s got something to hide. Luckily, he’s got the skills and the backup to find out what.

Gordon Equine is the perfect place for Niccolina Campolini. The Gordons pay in room, board and cash. And they don’t ask questions. Perfect for a girl on the run…until Jack shows up. Sexy as hell and far too inquisitive, Jack strikes sparks and suspicions that put both her body and her heart in danger.

Jack knows better than to trust a woman with as many shadows as Nicki, but the heat waves of their attraction are messing with his focus. And when her secrets catch up with her, he’s not sure if he’s protecting her from something, or protecting his family from her…

This book has been previously published and has been revised from its original release.

Warning: This book contains extremely stupid gangsters bearing guns, a bored team of special operatives looking for some action, and one Southern gentleman guaranteed to charm your panties off.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Jack:

Nicki leaned against the fence, watching the newborn in the corral with his mother. She sighed and tried to pinpoint what she was feeling. Contentment, she decided. She finally felt semi-safe for the first time in a month of being on the run. Although she feared she would never be truly safe again. Not as long as the man she was hiding from still lived and breathed. At least she could allow herself to relax just a little bit here at the farm.

She was about as far from New York as she could get. Who would think to look for her buried away here in the Deep South on a small horse-breeding farm? Certainly not the thick-necked imbecile she’d run from. As long as the Gordon family accepted her without question, and continued to pay her in cash and give her a place to live, she was set. She could drop off the radar indefinitely.

The colt walked slowly up to the fence and nuzzled her hand. She ran her hand over him. “You are such a sweetie.”

“Why thank you, darlin’.”

The deep voice caused Nicki to startle. She let out a squeak of fear, spooking the colt. He took off running for his mother.

She turned to look at the stranger, heart pounding until she saw his face. He was so much like the other two Gordon brothers, right down to the way he stood and talked, she knew who he was immediately. Relieved and feeling a little silly for thinking her enemies could find her all the way out here, she smiled in greeting. “You must be Jack.”

He raised a brow. “I must be. You know me, but who might you be, darlin’?”

Mmm, mmm. How she loved the way southern men sounded. So much nicer than the horrid accents she’d grown up around in New York. The accents from the five boroughs of New York City and Long Island made her cringe. But a southern man could practically make a girl’s panties fall right off just by talking to her.

She nearly shook herself to regain her senses. This was no time to be thinking about romance, or sex, or whatever this feeling was that Jack caused. She was in hiding. Besides that, this particular Gordon man was only here temporarily from what she’d heard. Good thing too. He was much too yummy and tempting to have around for very long. She sure did like the way he called her darlin’ though.

“I’m Nicki.” She offered him her hand.

His handshake was warm and slow. But then, everything in the south seemed warm and slow. She imagined what else might be warm and slow with him…

“Nicki…?” He apparently wanted her to elaborate.

“Camp. Nicki Camp.” The guilt of the lie hit her hard. Did it show as obviously on her face as it felt on her tongue? If it did sound like a lie to him, the expression on Jack’s face didn’t show it.

He was still holding her hand in his big, strong one when he crooned, “Nice to meet you, Nicki Camp.”

Slightly shaky, she pulled her hand back and then glanced up at his face again. His hair was a bit more golden brown than his brothers’, and his hazel eyes had flecks of green and gold in them. Stop it, Niccolina. She was in no position to be checking this guy out. No matter how cute and charming he was.

“So what brings you here to Pigeon Hollow, Miss Nicki Camp? You don’t sound like a local girl.”

Nicki considered her answer carefully. She didn’t think she had a New York accent. As a teenager, she’d worked damn hard to make sure of that. It had been important to her then because she’d wanted to sound more sophisticated. It was even more important now. It was a matter of life and death that no one knew where she was from. But Jack was right. She didn’t sound like a native southerner. She didn’t think she could pull that off no matter how many times she watched Gone with the Wind.

“Oh, you know. Just seeing the country.” Yeah, that didn’t sound too lame.

He took one step closer, and she resisted the urge to take a step back as he towered over her.

“Well, I sure am glad you decided to settle here for a bit.” He smiled as his eyes twinkled.

Another few minutes of this onslaught of charm and Nicki didn’t know what she’d do. Thank goodness, Jared chose that moment to interrupt them. Otherwise, she may have swooned like in all those old movies where southern men made the belle of the ball faint.

“Steer clear of my help before you scare her away.” Jared shot Jack a stern look, and then smiled and winked in her direction.

She decided to make a joke of her own and get the hell out of there before Jack wedged her any farther between him and the fence. “Not much scares me, except my boss finding me loafing around not doing my job. I better get back to it.”

Bull

Cat Johnson

When the going gets tough, the tough go out with a bang.

Red, Hot, & Blue, Book 10

Spec Op “Bull” Ford is as big as his nickname. His team, the civilians he protects, whether they know it or not, all depend on him. But beneath his stony exterior beats the heart of a caring man—unless he’s crossed.

Between her job as professional harpist and fending off an ex-boyfriend who won’t take the hint, Marly feels like a circus juggler. She doesn’t need some oversized, overzealous security guard accusing her of being a terrorist—as if a five-foot-nothing woman in a ball gown could threaten anyone.
 

Though when the real terrorists strike, she’s more than grateful to have Bull at her side…or on top, which certainly makes what could be her last breaths memorable.

But after Bull takes the brunt of the explosion, Marly is left with feelings for a man who doesn’t remember who she is. And by the time the red-hot memories come flooding back, the trail to her heart may have gone cold.

Warning: Contains explosive sexual encounters—literally!

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.