Born of Passion

He stood and Kyle did the same. “You will be staying in your family apartment?”

Kyle hesitated only a moment, then nodded. He’d have preferred to stay on the base, but apparently that wasn’t where the ambassador wanted him.

“Good, then if you’ll just have a seat in the reception area, I’m sure Joanna will be here momentarily. She can drive you to your apartment and you two can begin strategizing your mission.”

He walked around the desk and once again held out his hand to Kyle. “Thank you, Lieutenant Commander, for being available to serve not only the Noble Men, but the people of Montebello as well.”

“I look forward to getting to work immediately,” Kyle replied. The two men said their goodbyes and Kyle left the office.

“May I get you a cup of coffee while you wait?” the secretary asked with a friendly smile.

“No thanks, I’m fine.” Kyle sat in one of the dark blue, upholstered chairs, wondering how long he’d have to wait for this Joanna Morgan to show.

Now that he knew exactly what his mission here would be, he was eager to get started. His mind replayed all that Nigel Templeton had told him.

Two grieving fathers—a king and a sheik—both pointing fingers at the other. If war broke out, the consequences would be felt around the world.

The Noble Men. To say that the concept of a secret organization of wealthy, influential men intrigued him would be a vast understatement. Who were they? What had driven them to form such an organization? What made some men become altruistic and idealistic, while others became fat-cat corporate heads, worshipping the almighty dollar?

He shoved away the mental picture of his father that suddenly sprang to his mind. At the moment he had more important things to think about than Edward Ramsey.

He’d given his word that he would not speak of the Noble Men, and his mind worked to figure out just what he could tell his team of flyers and what he couldn’t. They needed to know only their objective, to keep the skies free of threat, and Kyle was confident they would follow his instructions without question.

A woman walked in, swiftly crossing the room to the receptionist desk. Although Kyle saw her only from the back, he couldn’t help but admire the long shapely legs beneath the short navy skirt, the curvy form of her derriere and the shiny dark hair tied back at the nape of her neck.

She spoke to the receptionist, but their voices were too low for him to hear. He wondered if this woman was the one he’d been waiting for—Joanna Morgan.

When she turned around, a shock of recognition ripped through him. “Marie,” he whispered. At the same time his gaze shot to the name on her badge: Joanna M. Morgan.

She gasped, her dark eyes wide. Before he had time to say another word, she raced past him and out into the hallway, as if she’d seen the very devil himself.

Kyle didn’t hesitate. He jumped out of his chair and ran after her.

Joanna Morgan raced down the hallway and ducked into a nearby ladies’ room. She leaned against the door with all her weight, almost afraid he might barge in after her.

It couldn’t be him. She wasn’t supposed to ever see him again!

What was he doing here?

She waited a moment for her breathing to slow, then moved away from the door and stood at one of the three sinks. She stared into the mirror at her reflection. She looked as if she’d just seen a ghost. She had. She’d seen the ghost of passion past.

Kyle Ramsey. It had been him. There was no pretending. Kyle had been sitting in the ambassador’s waiting room.

She closed her eyes and instantly was granted a vivid mental picture of him. That thick, wavy brown hair, those charcoal-gray eyes and those full, sensual lips had haunted her for the past couple of months.

It was almost exactly three months ago that she had made love to a virtual stranger. She’d like to believe that she had been drunk, but she knew better. Joanna never did anything to excess, especially drink.

No, she hadn’t been drunk—she’d been intoxicated by the sexy charm that had radiated from his eyes, inebriated by the flirtatious, playful banter they had shared, smashed on the blatant masculine sexuality that had rolled off him in waves.

“Marie.” A rapid knock sounded on the door.

She bit her lower lip, fighting against a wave of nausea. She’d never expected to see him again. Their night together had been a crazy lapse of judgment, a momentary slide into insanity, a wild ride of abandonment that had been completely out of character for her.

“Marie…Joanna.” This time the knock was louder and echoed with a touch of impatience. “You can’t stay in there all day. Sooner or later you have to come out.”

He was right, of course. She couldn’t stay in here forever, but she needed a little time to regain her equilibrium. She wasn’t ready to come out yet. She still hadn’t fully recovered from the absolute shock of seeing him again.

“Joanna, we have work to do.” His voice came softly through the door.

Work to do? What work could they have to do? A new wave of despair swept through her as her brain struggled to make sense of his words.

Oh heavens, he’d come from the ambassador’s office. He’d been in there when the ambassador was to meet with the top gun navy pilot who was sharing her new assignment with her.

Just that morning Ambassador Templeton had told her about her new, important assignment—providing ground support for a team of top gun fliers who were coming in unofficially to patrol the skies over Montebello.

Kyle was the top gun navy pilot, and she would be working with him until the current tensions between Montebello and Tamir were resolved. Fate had a hysterical sense of humor, she thought. Unfortunately, at the moment she wasn’t laughing, she simply felt as if she might throw up.

“Buck up,” she commanded herself. “You’re a professional and you will act like one.” She slid a hand down her navy skirt, then drew a deep breath, opened the door and stepped out.

The last time she’d seen Kyle Ramsey, he’d been wearing jeans and a polo shirt. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The very last time she’d seen him, he’d been gloriously naked and asleep. That final vision of him exploded in her head, granting her an unwelcome image of his naked body stretched out on white sheets.

“Joanna M. Morgan.” His gaze lingered a moment on her badge before returning to her face. “I assume the M stands for Marie?”

She nodded. He’d looked marvelous clad in jeans and a shirt. He’d looked sinfully sexy naked against crisp white sheets, but at the moment he looked arrogant and commanding in his pristine, wrinkle-free uniform.

“So, should I call you Joanna or Marie?” His slate eyes glittered brightly. “Or is Marie the name you use only when you’re picking up men in bars?”

She gasped. “I did not pick you up,” she exclaimed indignantly before abruptly changing the subject. She fumbled with her purse and withdrew her car keys. “I understand I’m to take you to where you will be staying. Shall we go?”

She marched ahead of him, mortified by the entire situation. She’d allowed herself to be seduced, had indulged in some seduction of her own that night. But when she’d awakened early the next morning, she’d been appalled by what she’d done.

Even worse was discovering that Kyle Ramsey was in the military. She’d crept out of the room, consoling herself with the knowledge that she would never see him again.

She didn’t look at him now until they were alone in the elevator. Then it was impossible to avoid doing so.

He filled the entire cubicle with his presence, with the spicy scent of his cologne and a subtle underlying fragrance of clean male. His eyes, with their sinful, long dark lashes and wicked gleam, swept her from head to toe, evoking tiny heat bursts wherever his gaze lingered.

His lips curved into a lazy smile that she remembered far too vividly from their night together. “Don’t you know it’s the height of bad manners to sneak away from a lover while he’s sleeping?”

“We weren’t lovers and I think it’s most unchivalrous of you to even mention that night.”

He took a step closer to her. With the high beam of his bedroom eyes on her and the nearly blinding charm of his smile, she suddenly remembered how easy it had been to succumb to his seduction.

“We were lovers for that night, and why shouldn’t I mention it? It’s definitely a fond memory for me.”

The elevator doors slid open, and Joanna nearly leaped out in an effort to escape the close proximity.

“Lieutenant Commander—”