Read Danger Close (The Echo Platoon Series, Book 1) for Free Online Page B

her tongue by way of an answer. Expectancy alone had summoned moisture between her legs. Slowly, he slid the hem of her dress higher. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Cool air touched her steamy heat. He would touch her there at any moment. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back as his lightly callused fingers inched ever closer.
    But then, not too far away, Maddy heard a twig snap and then another. Sam stiffened and his hand slid away. Damn . Her expectations took a nose dive as he straightened and turned his head.
    "Someone's out here," he whispered.
    "It's probably just another guest."
    He hushed her. "Let me listen."
    Maddy hung her head. It didn't matter if the interloper turned out to be a deer. The moment was shattered. She would take off for Paraguay a week from today and probably never see Sam Sasseville again. She hadn't exactly obtained his blessing, but at least he'd realized he couldn't stop her from answering her calling—no more than she could stop him from being a SEAL.
    If only she could thrust him from her thoughts completely. That was going to be the hardest part—forgetting the desire that blazed inside of her whenever he was near.
    * * *
    It took Sam's dulled senses several seconds to categorize the data he was taking in. They were definitely not alone. Someone was prowling through the woods at the edge of Lyle Scott's lawn. Probably one of the security guards.
    "Don't move," he breathed in Maddy's ear. At the same time, he cursed the approaching guard's competence. He might never get to feel up under Maddy's dress or bring her to climax the way he'd been anticipating moments earlier.
    In spite of his mistrust regarding her motives, he now felt distinctly cheated. Considering the way she kissed, she would probably go wild on him, and he loved wild women. The perfume of her arousal had done a number on him. And now this damn security guard was going to ruin his night, the son of a bitch.
    Annoyed and frustrated, Sam peeked around a tree that blocked the man from view. The lamplight in Lyle Scott's yard emitted just enough of a glow for him to spot the man's silhouette, facing the veranda, oddly—not him and Maddy. And why was he so furtive? Sam tightened his grip on Maddy as she started to pull away.
    "Hold still," he urged.
    She craned her neck to peer up at him questioningly.
    The intruder, who—now that Sam could just make him out—wasn't wearing a security guard uniform, stopped moving. As Sam continued to watch him, he put his shoulder to the trunk of a large tree and raised his weapon.
    The silhouette of an Mk-11 sniper rifle sent a shaft of alarm up Sam's spine. The bulge of a suppressor on the end of the barrel congealed his blood. Only snipers out to assassinate people carried suppressors on their rifles. Whoever that man was, he sure as hell wasn't a security guard.

 
     
     
    Chapter 3

     
    Adrenaline flooded Sam's bloodstream, counteracting his arousal. At the back of the house, the sultry strains of a viola played descant to the sounds of voices and laughter. The party had clearly moved outside onto the veranda. And one of the guests was about to be shot and killed if Sam didn't take immediate action.
    He clapped a hand over Maddy's mouth and dragged her down to crouch with him. Her wide, perplexed eyes reflected the faint moon glow.
    "Someone's aiming a rifle at the house," he informed her on a whisper, "and it's not a security guard. You promise to keep quiet?"
    At her nod, he withdrew his hand, pulled his cell phone from his pocket, thumbed his security code, and pushed it into her palm. "Call 911. I'm going after the shooter."
    "Go." She gave him a not so gentle push.
    Sam didn't need any incentive. In full SEAL mode, he crawled into the dark, unfamiliar forest, wishing he hadn't left his Desert Eagle semi-automatic pistol in the glove compartment of his car, but where could he have concealed it? And without night vision capabilities, all he could do was feel his way toward