Soldier of Fortune

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stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of
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An Excerpt From: SOLDIER OF FORTUNE

Copyright ? SHELLEY MUNRO, 2009

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.

Chapter One

The charter flight from Jordan to Iraq was a short hop
but plenty long enough for Joanna ?Mac? McGregor to second-guess her
decision to take up a contract in the security sector with Chesterton UK.
The wheels of the plane hit the runway, a solid thump before the pilot
applied the brakes. Tension seeped into hands holding a fantasy paperback,
turning her knuckles white. It wasn?t just her. Even the guys at the back
of the plane?the ones who had bantered their way through the entire journey
and tried to tempt her into joining the Mile High Club?fell silent. Mac
stared out the window. She?d seen the stark reality of Baghdad firsthand
when the plane circled the runway to land?the endless sand giving way to
the greener city. Checkpoints. Security forces. Burned-out vehicles,
buildings damaged by both allies? and insurgents? bombs.

Too late to change her mind and return to New Zealand
now.

She?d gone through the lengthy interview process,
answered all the questions about why a woman would want to undertake such a
dangerous assignment and finally signed on the dotted line. After all, not
much call for her skill set in an office and she couldn?t earn this sort of
money doing anything else. Icy determination to succeed curled through her
gut, squared her shoulders.

Mac disembarked with the rest of the security force, a
few intrepid reporters and a camera crew, the initial blast of heat when
she walked down the stairs sucking her lungs dry. Sweat broke out over her
body and her shirt soon clung to her clammy skin. Something she?d become
used to quickly. After formalities, she waited with the other recruits?the
new ones and the others who had signed on for a second or third tour. Like
her, they were in it for the money, some for the adrenaline rush. Some of
them would return home to family and friends. Some would die. Time would
tell which camp she fell into.

The only route into the city, dubbed Route Irish by the
Americans, was the most dangerous stretch of road in the world. Despite the
fences on both sides of the road, there were dangerous overpasses and
numerous car bombs planted to snare the unwary. From the briefing, Mac knew
they?d attempt to drive straight through any situation, be it bullets or
bombs. Stopping wasn?t an option.

Five minutes later, they pulled out in convoy, protected
by security forces from New Zealand and the United Kingdom, their driver
pausing to wait while a United States military convoy crossed the road
ahead of them. Overhead Mac watched two Black Hawk helicopters drawing
fire, diverting it from the road. The entire time their car remained in
radio contact with others from the convoy. The drivers and guards
constantly assessed risk, on the lookout for threats.

Mac stared out the window, gut jumping because she knew
danger lurked around every corner. Signs at the checkpoint authorizing
lethal force brought home the reality of her situation. If she found
herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, she would die. No one left to
look after her father then. She scowled at the thought and shoved it away.

Their convoy drove past the International zone,
patrolled by the US military, the only part of the city considered
relatively safe. They didn?t stop, their
destination the less-secure area where many security forces and their
clients lived.

The Red zone?her home for the next six months.

Mac climbed from the rear of the armored vehicle,
grabbed her gear and followed the other recruits into the main barrack-like
building. All the domestic comforts, Mac thought, taking in the mismatched
furniture, the clean but scuffed linoleum floor and the poster of a busty
blonde hanging drunkenly on the far wall. She dumped her bags at her feet.

A tall, dark-haired man prowled through a doorway on her
right and headed to the front of the room, his piercing blue eyes taking in
the new arrivals. Mac?s breath caught the instant she glimpsed his face,
hurled back to the past.

Louie?

Shock drop-kicked her square in the gut. Why wasn?t he
at home in New Zealand? Only her military training kept her face impassive,
the astonished gasp trapped inside her throat. Her training did nothing to
halt the images flooding her mind, the memories of hard muscles beneath her
questing fingers and the way it had felt each time his cock plunged between
her legs. Damn, Louie had lied to her.

His gaze slid over her and continued, but Mac knew by
the slight widening of his eyes he?d recognized her. Probably dealing with
the same stunned shock as her.

Baghdad wasn?t exactly a place she?d expect to run into
a former lover. Heck, she hadn?t anticipated seeing Louie again at all.
They?d been two people scratching an itch with no intention of taking their
relationship further. Just good clean fun between like-minded adults
relaxing on a tropical holiday.

Louie dispatched the new arrivals with military
precision and soon only she remained, waiting for a room allocation.

?Joanna, what the hell are you doing here?? A tic pulsed
in his jaw, highlighting his displeasure.

Mac scowled. ?I?m here to do a job. Mac McGregor. I
should be on your list.?

Louie scanned his list and shoved it into the back
pocket of his khaki trousers before stalking closer. ?You told me you were
a secretary.?

Because she didn?t talk about her job. Because she?d
wanted to forget the nightmare of war for the duration of her holiday.

Louie kept coming but Mac held her ground, refusing to
let him intimidate her. Finally he halted, standing close enough for the
heat emanating off his muscular body to bring another rush of memories. She
drew a ragged breath, shoving aside the frisson of awareness. Not gonna happen. This was work.

At almost six foot, she was tall, but he towered over
her, forcing Mac to crane her neck to look him in the eye. ?You told me you
were a lawyer, not that we did much talking while we were in Fiji.? She
caught the flare of his nostrils, the slight narrowing of his eyes and knew
Louie wasn?t as unaffected as he pretended.

?You can?t stay.?

?I?ve signed a contract.?

?You?re a woman.?

?Give the man a prize.? Mac wanted to say a lot more but
bit down on her tongue, figuring she?d better not cuss her new boss. The
necessity to prove herself in the male-dominated
occupation wore thin after a while. ?I?m ex-army with ten years experience.
I?ve worked in Afghanistan for six months. I?m good at my job or I wouldn?t
be in Iraq.?

?It?s dangerous. People die here.? Louie?s gaze drifted
across her lips, settled for an instant before he backed up and glanced
away.

?That?s why I came. To help keep workers safe during the
reconstruction process. I want to make a difference, and besides, this is
the only way to make quick money.? And boy did she need it.

?Your presence is going to be a problem.?

Mac?s mouth dropped open. Once she realized, she slammed
it shut so quickly her teeth clacked. ?Oh yeah? Frightened you can?t keep
your hands off?? He sure as hell hadn?t called that a problem when they
were in Fiji. Mac quivered inside, her breasts prickling when she
remembered how it had been?the hot, urgent hunger between them. The sweet
release of tension.

?This has nothing to do with sex. It?s about how the men
will feel working with a woman. It will divide their concentration.?

?Bullshit,? Mac snarled, sick of fighting the same old
skirmish. She advanced on Louie, poking her finger at his chest to
punctuate her words. ?I?m a soldier the same as the rest. It doesn?t matter
what sex I am. I?m here to do a job and that?s what I?ll do.?

They stared at each other, exchanging a wealth of
information and emotions without speaking a word?determination, defiance,
irritation. Desire.

?Hell.? Louie dragged a hand through his dark curls, a
clear indication of his inner turmoil.

Mac remained glued to the spot, adrenaline pumping hard
and fast through her body. She swallowed and mentally shook herself free of
the spell she?d fallen under. Louie?s presence wouldn?t be a problem. She
wouldn?t let it. ?My room?? she prompted.

?We?re full. You?ll be rooming with me.?

Disbelief held her still. Oh yeah. That would be right.
Fate would make her room with temptation on two legs. Not that she?d ever
admit her problem to him. She arched her brows, pretending merely idle
curiosity. ?You??

?Yeah.? He eased away from her and folded his arms
across his broad chest, the move drawing her unwilling attention. His
sensual mouth kicked up into a mocking smile. ?Worried about not being able
to keep your hands off??

Mac snorted. ?You wish.?

His blue eyes gleamed with the same mischief he?d
demonstrated during their time in Fiji. ?Grab your gear, Joanna. I?ll show
you the way.? He strode to the door without waiting for her reply.

?The name is Mac.? Tight-lipped, she scooped up her bags
and stomped after the man, murder on her mind. Work and play. Two very
distinct and different things in her mind. Joanna played while Mac worked
and concentrated on keeping them both alive. Together they made one
balanced soldier.

?Our room,? Louie said, making the situation sound way
more personal than warranted. He pushed the door open and stood aside for
her to enter.

Plain and small. A set of bunks lined one wall while the
other bore a set of lockers, the top of which doubled as a shelf. A couple
of travel magazines and an old newspaper were visible. A wooden desk sat
against the third wall of the room, a thin thriller paperback under one leg
bringing sturdiness and balance. A slim black laptop took up most of the
surface.

?The showers are down the hall. You have the top bunk.?
He paused, his eyes glinting with a private joke. ?You like being on top so
that shouldn?t be a problem.?

Mac gritted her teeth but didn?t comment, instead
silently giving thanks she wasn?t the blushing type.

?We?re going out this afternoon for reconnaissance.
You?ll be riding along.?

Mac nodded, always glad to get into the local routine. A
regular schedule helped her settle quicker, kept nerves under better
control.

?The mess is open at midday for an hour.?

?Thanks.? Mac dumped her bags and started to unpack. Not
a big chore since, like all the others, she traveled light. She sensed
rather than heard Louie leave and let a slow, shuddery breath ease out. A
nightmare. The man had preyed on her mind more than she cared to admit.
They?d had some good times in Fiji. Very good. Working with him would be
difficult although not impossible. She could cope. Rooming with the man
though, that was going to be a problem. The room smelled of him, tempting
and seductive. She already knew what it felt like when his hands moved
across her naked body. Each drift of his fingers, the pads slightly
calloused and bringing seductive friction with each touch. His confidence.

Oh yeah. He knew the way around a woman?s body. Heat
collected, pooling low in her belly, bringing an edgy awareness.
Uneasiness.

?Damn.? She was in trouble here and wise enough to admit
it.