A JAG Fan-fiction Story © 2003 Sheri Mitchell
	On the trail of a brutal killer, Harm is asked  to make the ultimate sacrifice to save Mac.
	Rated: R For language
	Updates: Oct. 7 Oct. 9 Oct. 10
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The voices.

The voices were back and they were getting louder. He thought he’d made them go away last time but they were back, stronger and more insistent than ever. There was only one thing to do, one way to make them stop – do as they commanded.

The last door on the right. That’s where the pretty lady lived. This time, he would get it right and the voices would stop for good. He knocked on the door and waited, hearing the faint sound of her stepping up to the other side of the door. He could almost feel her looking at him through the peephole. A moment later, the door opened and she smiled up at him. "Well hi, handsome. What are you doing here?"

Her dark eyes shone with genuine warmth, but something was missing. She wasn’t looking at him the way she was supposed to. Her smile slipped, replaced by a frown. "What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

And then the voices spoke again, issuing a command he could not refuse. He never disobeyed a direct order. One infinitesimal part of him hated himself for what he was about to do, but it couldn’t be helped. He had to follow orders.

A few moments later, he stood looking down at the crumpled form at his feet, waiting for the voices to subside, but they didn’t. They got louder and louder.

This isn’t the right one! they insisted. She’s the wrong one – again!

Terrified by the anger in the voices, he gulped down a sob and stumbled backward away from her. Turning, he bolted from the apartment, leaving the pretty lady Marine dead on the floor behind him.

JAG HQ – 07:42 EST

Harm cruised through the bullpen, on the way to his office. As always, he glanced toward Mac’s office, instinctively seeking her presence without conscious thought, but what he saw brought him up short. Her door was closed and even though the blinds were down, he could tell the light was off. She was obviously off on an assignment of some sort.

Frowning, he continued through to his office to drop off his gear before going in search of someone who could tell him what had happened while he was gone. He had talked to Mac only two days ago, needing some information from her so he could wrap up his investigation in California. She hadn’t said anything about going anywhere then so whatever it was must have come up suddenly.

Dropping his briefcase and his cover in their customary places, he stopped to check the messages that had piled up while he was away. It was amazing how much work stacked up in a week. Doing a quick sort, he distributed the messages into two piles, one to deal with immediately and the other for things that could wait. He had two messages left to go when Tiner buzzed the intercom.

"Cdr Rabb, the admiral would like to see you ASAP, sir."

Wondering how the kid even knew he was here, Harm stabbed the button. "Thanks, Tiner."

Adding the last two messages to the "later" pile, he headed for Admiral Chegwidden’s office. As always, he strode in and came to attention in front of the desk, but he could tell instantly that something was seriously wrong in the admiral’s world. The tension in the room was so thick Harm nearly had to swim through it to get to the desk.

"Have a seat, Commander, and welcome back." The admiral’s brisk welcome came out almost as an afterthought as he waved Harm to a seat.

Harm took the proffered chair, his sixth sense tingling like mad. "Is something wrong, sir?"

"You bet there is," the admiral replied gruffly. "There’s been another murder at the Marine base in Yuma. Lt. Angela Trent was discovered in her apartment yesterday morning."

Harm dragged in a breath, knowing now where Mac had gone. "That’s awful, sir. I see Col. MacKenzie is absent so I assume she’s investigating?"

"You might say that. She’s gone undercover to flush the killer out."

Harm’s gut clenched into a cold, tight knot. Flushing out a killer was an extremely good way to end up being his next victim. "Does she have…adequate backup, sir?"

"Not yet, she doesn’t but I’m about to fix that. I hope you haven’t unpacked yet, Commander. You’re on the next flight to Yuma."

MARINE AIRSTATION YUMA – 11:00 MST

Mac pulled her jeep up in front of Air Ops and killed the engine. As she hopped out an enlisted man passing by offered her a sharp salute. She returned it, acutely aware of the gold oak leaf on her collar. She’d traded gold for silver a long time ago and the rank reduction served as a constant reminder of her undercover status. For the duration of her stay at Yuma, she was Maj. Susan Kingsley. That part wasn’t nearly as difficult as remembering she was supposed to be playing up the fact that she was single. Both of the murdered women were known for indulging in a little casual flirting, even while on duty. The base commander suggested she do the same, in case that was what attracted the killer to them in the first place.

Mac could play any role, but flirting while in uniform wasn’t going to be easy for her. She had tried very hard to keep her personal and professional lives separate. The few times she hadn’t, the results had been disastrous. There was one notable exception to her hard and fast rule, an exception that proved the rule. Every time things got too personal between her and that certain man, her life got very complicated.

As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Mac spotted him the moment she turned around. Even though he was dressed as a Marine, the tall, lean form was almost painfully familiar and the grin her flashed her shot straight to her heart.

"Good morning, Maj. Kingsley," he greeted. "I’m glad I caught up to you."

"Maj. Howard," she replied, dredging up the cover name from her briefing with the CO an hour ago. "Did you just get in?"

"Yeah, about ten minutes ago." He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Give me five minutes inside and we can ride back to Admin together," she told him just as quietly.

He nodded and stepped back. "I’d appreciate the ride, Major. Take your time. I have to report to the base commander, but he’s not expecting me for another half hour."

Harm watched as Mac disappeared inside Air Ops. Calling her "Major" again was going to take some getting used to, but their very presence in the desert heat of Arizona, welcome though it was, kept their agenda clear in his mind. They were here to find a killer, a monster who was preying on the women serving on this base.

And now Mac was one of those women. A wave of apprehension skittered up his spine. Their best chance of finding that monster also meant taking an enormous chance with her safety and that wasn’t sitting well with him at all.

He waited beside the jeep, resisting the urge to pace. Five minutes went by, then ten. Mac had said she only needed five minutes inside and he’d never met anyone better at assessing how much time was needed for a task. The unease crawling up his spine was cutting a wider path by the second and after three more minutes, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Shoving off the fender, he crossed to the door and strode inside.

The long narrow entrance hall fed out into a large open area that served as a sort of hub for several other corridors. One corner of the area had been set up as a casual coffee area, with a couple of comfortable chairs flanking a coffee maker on a small wooden table. Mac stood in front of the table, deep in conversation with a Marine captain. Harm stared in awe as she giggled – she actually giggled – and briefly put a hand on the man’s arm, patting it playfully.

A barrage of conflicting emotions spread through Harm like wildfire. He knew she was merely playing her role, setting herself up as someone very much like the two murdered women, but she was doing too good a job of it, damn it! Her easy flirtation would pique any man’s interest and if that man was warped and twisted inside…. He shoved the thought away quickly but that left him facing an equally uncomfortable notion. He was being flooded with an undeniable wave of jealousy and there was no way he wanted to explore that any further.

As an alternative, he stepped farther into the room, letting his movement catch her eye. She looked up and, just for a moment, an expression flitted across her features. It came and went too fast for him to identify it for certain, but it looked very much like…relief? She smiled at him and set her coffee cup down. "Gosh, I’m sorry, Maj. Howard. I completely forgot about you."

Given what had stolen her attention, the comment stung a little, even as he told himself it was all part of the ruse. "That’s all right," he lied. "I was just wondering if you were going to be…held up…much longer."

"No, I’m done here," she replied. "I was just getting to know Capt. Easton here. Maj. Rick Howard, Capt. Philip Easton."

Easton shot off a quick, almost sloppy salute, then held out his hand. "Glad to meet you, sir."

"You too," Harm muttered, briefly shaking his hand. It was a little like pawing a dead fish.

"I promised the major a ride over to Admin," Mac explained. "I guess we’d better be going."

"Sure, I should get back to work, too." His eyes took on a warmth as he turned to her. "I’m really glad we met."

She smiled brightly. "Me too. Maybe I’ll see you around later."

"Count on it," he replied, his tone slightly lower.

Harm thought for a moment he was going to be sick. He kept a lid on his thoughts and feelings until he and Mac were in the jeep and cruising toward the Admin building on the far side of the base. "What the hell was all that?"

"What was what?" she asked, glanced at him for as long as her driving would permit.

"That scene with Easton back there," he replied, not quite able to keep the disgust from his voice. "You looked like you were ready to crawl inside his uniform."

She gave a mild snort and shot him another look. "I did not! I was doing my job. I’m supposed to be chatting it up with the men serving here."

"That was not ‘chatting it up’," he muttered.

"Then what would you call it?" she demanded, a hint of a smile on her face.

She was enjoying this! The thought struck him broadside. She was openly teasing him and it was Mac doing the teasing, not her alter ego. There was no need to act her part here.

"You don’t want to know what I’d call it," he returned, deciding the teasing could go both ways, "but if you ever feel like turning that charm on around me, wait till we’re alone, okay?"

Her eyes as round as saucers, she shot him a long look, dragging her gaze away only when her driving demanded it. He chuckled quietly to himself. Direct hit!

Mac kept her eyes glued to the road, but she could literally feel Harm’s eyes on her. She hadn’t been able to resist teasing him just a little. It was the best way to deal with him when his Superman complex kicked in and he went all protective on her, but she hadn’t counted on it backfiring the way it had. There was no mistaking the challenge in his words, made more potent by the fact that he knew full well how hard it was for her to resist a challenge.

And there was an enormous part of her that didn’t want to resist this one, that wanted to mean it when she gave a man the look that invited him into her private world. She’d known for a very long time now that only Harm would ever receive that invitation for real, but the complexities and complications in their lives never seemed to subside long enough for the two of them to get on the same track at the same time.

Take now, for instance. This was definitely not the time or the place to be exploring her feelings for him. They would be a distraction she really couldn’t afford – one that could prove fatal.

"So what did fawning over Easton get you?" he asked suddenly. "Learn anything interesting about him?"

She was tempted to argue his description of her behavior, but decided not to push it for now. "He’s been stationed here for two years and he knew both women who were murdered. He admitted dating Lt. Trent once or twice but said they were just friends."

Just friends. Harm knew how loaded those two little words could be. "Did he give you any reason to suspect he was understating it?"

She thought about that for a minute. "No, but…"

"But what?" he asked quickly, pouncing on her hesitation.

"I can’t explain it, but to be honest, he does give me the willies."

"The willies?" he repeated. "I don’t think that’s going to get us very far."

"I know, but that’s the only way I can explain it. He’s…too slick, too smooth."

That was exactly the impression Harm had received and he said so. "The guy reminded me of a used car salesman."

Mac chuckled. "Me too. The only reason I struck up a conversation with him was because he was on the CO’s list of people I should pay attention to."

"Because he dated Trent, or because he’s a weasel?" he asked bluntly.

She laughed again. "Because he dated her. I got a list of everyone the two women were known to have any kind of relationship with that wasn’t strictly professional. Despite being described as flirtatious, neither of them had many friends it seems."

"So you’re going to go around the base throwing yourself at each of these guys and see if one of them tries to kill you for it?"

Very deliberately, Mac pulled the jeep over to the side of the road. They were less than a block from the Admin building but she wasn’t going one inch further until she had her say. She turned in the seat, glaring at him. "First, I’m not ‘throwing myself’ at them. I’m making a point of talking to them on a personal level whenever the opportunity presents itself. Second, the idea is to use my training and skills to dig up evidence before this maniac tries for a hat-trick, and third…" She could feel the indignation boiling up inside her. "Explain to me why I have to outline one and two for you! You know how this game is played, Harm."

"You’re right I do," he shot back. "And that’s what’s got me worried. The number one rule in this game, as you call it, is that things never go as planned. This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Mac. Even the admiral thinks so. Why the hell do you think he fired me out here before I even had a chance to sit down at my desk?"

"And I appreciate the backup," she admitted, "but I also need room to work. It’s not like I’m going to accept an offer to be alone with any of them. I’m perfectly safe here on the base."

"The other two women weren’t killed on the base," he reminded her. "They were killed in their own apartments by someone they trusted enough to open the door to. Both of them were found with the door wide open and no signs of forced entry. They opened it willingly and were attacked before they had a chance to even close it. Whatever you do, Mac, don’t trust anyone. We don’t even know for sure the killer is a man."

It was a point she’d made with the CO earlier, but it appeared the two murdered women didn’t have any female friends in common either. "I know," she replied more gently, "and right now, there are only two people on this base I trust, me…and you."

Her words, spoken honestly and without much thought, had a bigger impact than she expected. His shoulders dropped as some of the tension bled out of him. "I’m sorry if I seem like I’m coming on a little strong, but…I’m worried about you."

She smiled at him. "I know and I love you for it."

The words were out before she realized it and she froze, instantly snagged by his penetrating gaze as he searched her face, as if seeking a deeper truth in those words. She wanted to turn away before he found it, but she couldn’t. It was her most closely guarded secret but lately it was getting harder and harder to keep those feelings buried, especially when he looked at her like he was looking at her now.

She spent an eternity caught up in the swirling torrent of emotion in his eyes before he finally tore them away. "You’d…you’d better get going before someone sees us."

Yanked back to reality, she fumbled to start the jeep and pulled back out onto the road, driving the short distance to the Admin building on complete autopilot. When she pulled up in front, he climbed out of the vehicle then turned back to her. "I’m stuck in the BOQ of course, but since you’ve got an apartment, maybe we should get together there later so we can talk in private."

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked quietly.

He took a breath to answer, then paused briefly before letting it out in a rush. "The case, Mac. I want to talk about the case."

He watched her nod and then drive away. It was a lie and they both knew it. He wanted to talk about far more than the case, but as usual, the time and the place were all wrong. It seemed there was always something in the way and he wondered sadly if the words tumbling around inside him were destined to remain unspoken forever.

Mac spent the next two days feeling like she was living in someone else’s body. She watched and listened as she said and did things she never would have dreamed of as herself. Playing a role was something she’d had a lot of practice at, though, and it came easily. In that, at least, she could identify with the murdered women. Discrete inquiries to the few people who knew them well confirmed that both women harbored a deep insecurity and probably used the casual flirtation to hide it.

Hiding behind a persona was also something Mac could identify with. She’d been doing it so long, her tough, capable Marine front had been with her so long now it was no longer a façade. At one time in her life, she’d had to make a conscious effort to act the part of a Marine. Now it was automatic. Unfortunately, it was so automatic, it sometimes made it more difficult to play other roles, and not just during undercover assignments. There were other roles she wanted to fill, of a much more personal, intimate nature.

Mac dragged herself out of her contemplations before they could move on to the inevitable conclusion about who she wanted to live those roles with but as she looked out through the open door of the tiny office assigned to her, the object of the thoughts she was so carefully avoiding came into view, headed straight for her door.

"Good morning," he greeted, flashing her one of his signature grins. "I was told you might have a copy of the updated flight schedule for tomorrow."

So, he was playing a role this morning too. He was firmly entrenched in his persona as a Marine aviator, here for specialized training. She could deal with him a lot easier on that level. "Sure do." She dug out the papers he wanted and handed them to him with a smile. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He stepped closer to take the papers and lowered his voice. "We need to talk. The local police have a new lead."

Without needing to look at her watch, she simply tapped it for emphasis. "I’m due at Air Ops but I won’t be long. There’s an empty building beside it. Meet me there in about twenty minutes."

He nodded and gave her a wave as he left the office. She gathered up the papers she needed to take with her and hurried out a moment later. The quicker she got over there, the quicker she could meet Harm and find out what the police had learned.

Her meeting at Air Ops took longer than she thought and she ended up having to wait even longer for copies of some documents. She barely contained the urge to restlessly shift her weight as she stood in the small lounge area. At last, Lt. Conway approached. He had been asked to sit in on the meeting and, although he seemed a little shy, he’d managed to contribute some interesting points. Mac had tried hard to pay attention to the meeting but her mind kept returning to the real reason she was on this base.

He offered her a slow but genuine smile as he handed her the documents. "There you go, Major. Sorry for the delay."

"That’s all right," she lied. "Thanks for making the copies." The young man seemed so honestly concerned about making her wait that she didn’t have the heart to take out her frustrations on him.

His smile got a little wider. "You’re welcome, ma’am."

He turned to go, brushing past someone in the entrance to the corridor, but Mac was too intent on getting out of there to realize who it was until he called her name – her undercover name. She turned to see Easton striding toward her, a wide smile on his face.

"Check this out. Looks like I finally caught up with you, Susan." He tapped his collar, where he now sported an oak leaf.

Mac forced herself to smile brightly. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks. Hey, how about helping me celebrate tonight?"

Mac froze, taken aback by the abrupt offer. She really didn’t feel like socializing with him, but it might be a good way to get a little more information on him, and it would certainly be the fastest way to shut him down for now and get to her meeting with Harm. "I…uh…"

"Aw, come on, it’ll be fun. We can go to Ringo’s. I bet you haven’t been there yet."

"No, I haven’t, but…"

"Then it’s settled. Meet me there about eight, okay? You can get directions from just about anyone on the base. It’s a favorite hang-out."

"All right," she said finally.

His smile lit the room. "Great! See you then."

Harm paced the small foyer of the empty building, fists clenched at his sides. Flexing his fingers, he gave his hands a brisk shake, as if that would loosen some of the tension in them. Not likely! He glanced at his watch. It had been thirty-five minutes. The only thing that kept him from charging out in search of her again was her voice in his head, reminding him that the two murdered women had been killed off base. She was probably right about being safe here.

The door opened just as he was berating himself for worrying unnecessarily. Mac rushed in, looking apologetic. "I’m sorry. The meeting took longer than I thought."

He nodded, determined not to overreact this time. "No problem."

"You said the police had some new information?" she asked, getting right down to business.

"They do. A second canvas of Lt. Trent’s neighborhood turned up a neighbor across the street who saw a car similar to Easton’s outside the building the night Trent was killed."

"How similar?" she asked quickly.

"Same color and basic shape. She couldn’t be more specific. Apparently she was letting her cat in about two in the morning and noticed the car because it was the only one on the street at the time."

A frown he didn’t quite understand flickered across Mac’s face. "That’s not very conclusive."

"No, but there’s more. The police also came up with two witnesses who saw Easton and Trent arguing that night at a club called Ringo’s." The frown darkened even further. He knew that look. "What? What do you know that I don’t?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Harm, I just agreed to meet him at Ringo’s tonight to celebrate his promotion."

Harm stared at her for a long moment until he could get his lungs working again. "You did what!"

"I…I have a…date with Easton tonight. We’re meeting at Ringo’s."

"Are you out of your mind?" he demanded, incapable of controlling the outburst.

"I didn’t know about the leads the police had," she pointed out. "Besides, it’s beginning to sound more and more like he’s our number one suspect. This is the break we’ve been waiting for. If I go out with him and he tries something—"

He dragged in a sharp breath, ready to blow her out of the water, but she threw up a hand.

"Don’t even say it, Harm! I know how risky it is, but this is the best shot we’ve got and I’m going to take it!" She glared up at him, defiance and challenge in every line of her stance.

He spun away, needing a moment to think, but he could take all year and it wouldn’t change the facts. She was right. The entire reason for her being undercover was to act as bait for a killer and they would be crazy to lose the opportunity presented by the prime suspect asking her out on a date.

With a greater reluctance than he’d ever known, he turned back to her. "All right, but I’m going to be right behind you all evening. You won’t be out of my site the whole night."

She gazed at him a moment longer, and then a very slow smile spread across her face. "The whole night? Fat chance, sailor. Not even my date gets that privilege."

Turning with a sassy, provocative swing of her hips, she walked out, leaving him gaping like a landed trout.

In deciding what to wear on her "date", Mac went back in her memories nearly twenty years to a time when sexy-without-the-sleaze came easy for her. She settled on a shimmering gold top with pearl buttons and a dark brown leather skirt that was – as Uncle Matt used to put it – like a good story, long enough to cover the main points, but short enough to be interesting. She finished off with a pair of reasonably high heels that gave her added height and made her legs look longer and slimmer but would still allow her to move freely if she needed to.

Easton was right about getting directions to Ringo’s. Everyone on the base seemed to know where it was. She left the apartment in plenty of time, wanting to get there before him so she could give the club a once-over but when she walked through the door, Easton was sitting at the bar waiting for her, and he wasn’t the only one. Harm sat at a table near the back of the room, his right hand wrapped around a beer bottle. He was every bit the off-duty Marine, relaxing in a comfortable crowd – until she met his gaze. For the briefest moment, their eyes locked on and in those few seconds, the entire sum of their complex, often turbulent relationship passed between them.

Pinned by a piercing blue-gray laser, Mac was vaguely aware of a presence beside her and dragged her gaze away, needing everything she had in her to focus her attention on Philip Easton. She smiled at him and laid a hand on his arm. "Hi there. Looks like we’re both early."

"Just eager, I guess," he replied with a grin. Slipping her hand into his, he lead her to a table. The chairs were positioned so that, when she sat down, Mac could just barely see Harm from the corner of her eye, but she didn’t need to see him. She could feel his gaze burning into her from across the room.

Telling himself the knot in his gut came from concern for Mac’s safety, Harm watched her and Easton laughing and chatting with each other, but deep down inside where he couldn’t fool himself so easily, he knew a lot of the roiling in his gut came from something very close to jealousy. Mac had laughed and joked with him like that on many occasions, but she never looked at him the way she was looking at Easton now. He tried reminding himself that she was merely acting, playing the part her undercover assignment required of her, but that didn’t completely quell the sharp ache inside him.

As the evening wore on, the ache dulled, worming its way deep inside him. He watched them dance and laugh and talk, saw the progression from acquaintances to friends to…? From all outward appearances, Mac was having the time of her life and Harm realized he was perversely glad she didn’t drink. It made it easy for her to play the role to the hilt and still keep a clear head, but shortly after midnight, he saw her reach over and take a sip of Easton’s drink when her glass was empty.

Her gaze collided with Harm’s for brief instant and he realized she was sending him a signal. Easton wasn’t drinking alcohol either. It was a piece of news that could become vitally important if things took a turn later. He nodded almost imperceptibly and lifted his beer, the same one he’d been nursing all night, in a silent acknowledgement.

Mac had managed to hide her surprise when, at the beginning of the evening, Easton had ordered a Coke. Later, she managed to work a casual question about it into the conversation and was even more surprised when he was completely upfront about the drinking problem he’d battled and beaten three years ago.

"What about you?" he asked, gesturing to her glass of ginger-ale.

She couldn’t give him any details without risking her cover, so she gave a dismissive shrug. "Pretty much the same story."

Later, she managed to make sure her glass was empty before his, giving her an excuse to take a drink from his, sending a silent message to Harm. After spending the evening with Easton, she was having even more trouble seeing him as a viable suspect, but her gut instincts had been wrong on occasion and if she was wrong this time, Harm needed to know as much as possible. The knowledge that Easton’s reflexes were unimpaired could become critical.

After working all day, Mac started to sag a little before one a.m. She finished the last of her ginger-ale refill and reached for her purse. "I think I’m going to call it a day," she said lightly. "After all, we both have to work tomorrow."

Easton glanced at his watch and seemed genuinely surprised. "Wow! It is late. Tell you what, I always like to escort my dates home safe. Any chance we can end the evening with a cup of coffee at your place?"

Her instincts kicked in immediately. Allowing him into her apartment would be risky, despite her feeling that he wasn’t their man. Still, she had one advantage the two murdered women hadn’t had. She was already on guard and ready to use her training to fend off any threat, and if he was the killer, this might be their best opportunity to catch him. "All right."

He flashed her a beaming smile and rose, extending his hand to guide her to her feet. As they headed for the door, she saw Harm toss back the last swallow of his beer and follow at a discrete distance.

Easton followed her through the darkened streets, Harm followed Easton. Mac knew he was back there, even though he kept enough distance between them that Easton would have no reason to suspect he was being followed. She could only imagine what was going through Harm’s mind as he realized she was allowing Easton to come to the apartment.

She parked in front of the two story building and Easton pulled in right behind her. He locked his car then joined her on the steps leading to the front door. As they went up, Mac caught a glimpse of Harm’s car pulling to the curb across the street and half a block down.

Every nerve on alert, Mac led the way to her door, careful to flick on the light before entering. She tossed her purse and keys on a table beside the door and waved toward the sofa. "Have a seat, I’ll get the coffee on."

She returned from the kitchen a moment later and slid into a chair set at right angles to the small sofa. He looked around the apartment. "It’s a little…sparse. That doesn’t seem like you."

"I haven’t moved all my things in yet," she replied, aware that the rented furniture gave the place a cold, impersonal feel.

He nodded, apparently accepting the explanation. They chatted for a few minutes until she heard the coffee maker gurgle, signaling the end to its brewing cycle. She rose smoothly to her feet. "Coffee’s ready. How do you take yours?"

"Black," he replied, rising as well. Before she could turn, he gently took hold of her arms and stepped close. "But I’d really rather have something besides coffee."
His mouth came down on hers and Mac endured it for a moment, then gently pulled away. "You’re moving a little fast there, Phil. Let’s get to know each other a little better first."

His features folded into a frown. "I thought we’d gotten to know each other pretty well tonight."

"It’s a start," she told him, "but that’s all."

"A start?" he repeated. "Good God, woman, what do you expect, flowers and a ring before our first kiss?"

"No," she said carefully, putting a little more distance between them, "but I do expect more than one date before we end the evening in a lip-lock and if you want there to be another date, I think you’d better leave now."

She was pushing, and she knew it, but if there was going to be any point to this evening, it was what she had to do. To her surprise, and relief, he backed off, stalking to the door.

"I’m not so sure I do want another date. You obviously aren’t the woman I thought you were, Susan. Good night."

She stared at the closed door, the adrenaline rush slowly draining from her. So, he’d obviously been expecting more than she was willing to give on the first date, but did that make him a killer? His quick retreat suggested not, but she couldn’t be sure. He’d been seen arguing with Trent the night she was killed. Was he angry with her for turning him down more than once? Would he push the issue with her tomorrow or sometime later?

All these thoughts were racing through her mind when she heard a soft knock on the door. Crossing to it, she looked through the peephole. As expected, it was Harm, and he didn’t look pleased. She unlocked the door and let him in.

He strode in, turning abruptly toward her as she closed the door. "You really are out of your mind! What were you thinking, inviting him over here like this?"

"I was thinking it would be the best opportunity we had to see what he’d do, and now we know, don’t we!" she shot back.

He sucked in a breath, then suddenly, his shoulders dropped and he let it out in a rush. "I guess we do. He was pretty pissed off when he stormed out of here."

"But he did storm out," she pointed out.

"Which may only prove you didn’t push enough of his buttons tonight."

"I know," she admitted.

He stepped close, his big hands folding around her arms. The move was startlingly similar to Easton’s but her reaction was exactly the opposite. She instinctively moved closer, seeking the warmth radiating from his body.

"Please," he whispered, "be careful. You might have set something in motion tonight."

Oh, she’d started something all right, but it had nothing whatsoever to do with Easton. Enveloped in Harm’s scent, in his heat, she moved closer still. She watched his eyes change to a dark, smoky gray as they searched her face, felt his hands tighten on her arms. Their eyes remained locked on each other until his drifted closed an instant before his lips found hers.

The kiss was agonizingly tender – for about two seconds. Then she felt herself swept away into a raging storm of need, fed by the sudden urgency in his touch. He dragged her hard against his chest, his arms sliding around her to hold her there. She opened herself to the demanding probing of his tongue and when it stroked hers in an intimate caress, she nearly went up in flames.

The kiss became a mutual exploration as she learned the intimate details of a man she knew better than anyone she had ever known. She knew the spicy smell of his cologne as well as she knew her own perfume, but as she clung to him, the heady scent became a drug, more potent and intoxicating than anything she’d ever experienced. Her hands roamed his body, learning the familiar form in new ways as she explored the hard muscles of his back and chest.

His own hands were far from still. They cruised over her body, feeding the flaming need inside her. The thin fabric barrier of their clothing was rapidly becoming too much. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, stopping to explore the heated flesh revealed every time she opened one. She was on number three when he let out a soft groan and took a step back. His breath ragged, he gazed down at her with eyes the color of dark, swirling wood-smoke. "I don’t believe I’m saying this, but this isn’t a good idea, Mac. Not here, not now."

The practical, well-trained Marine in her heard him and knew he was right. The woman in her heard him and didn’t care. As always, the Marine won out, even though she mourned the loss of his touch as she stepped back, putting more distance between them. Her throat closed tight, preventing any words from coming out, so she simply nodded, her gaze dropping to the worn carpet at their feet. A moment ago, she’d been ready to go with him down onto that rug and learn the last of this man’s secrets. Now…

He gently cupped her cheek in one palm, gently lifting her head until she met his gaze. She saw her own longing and sorrow reflected in his eyes.

"Soon," he whispered.

She nodded again, letting her cheek brush the roughness of his hand.

He ducked his head, kissing her one last time, then stepped back. She watched in mute stillness as he disappeared out the door. It took her several seconds to shake off the numbness enough to turn but she only made it halfway across the tiny apartment before a knock echoed softly at the door.

Not sure she should let him back in but powerless to stop herself, she back tracked and pulled the door open. "We…"

She choked off the sentence when she realized it wasn’t Harm standing there. Who it was couldn’t have been more of a surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted.

He said nothing. Instead, he took a quick step forward and Mac instantly went on the defensive, but before she could do more than ready herself, his hand flew up and a blast of something exploded in her face.

Searing pain in her eyes, nose and throat told her she’d been hit with pepper spray. She choked out a hoarse cry and dropped to the floor, frantically swiping at her eyes.

Two strong hands gripped hers and yanked them away from her face. His soothing words were a complete contradiction to his rough treatment. "Take it easy, I won’t hurt you. I finally found the right one. You don’t belong with either of those two smart-ass show-offs. Easton’s just using you and I can’t figure the other one out at all, but he can’t love you as much as I do. No one can." He dragged her to her feet. "Come on, pretty lady, let’s go. I need to show you how much I love you."

Still incapacitated by the pepper spray, Mac could do nothing but stumble along as he dragged her out of the apartment.

Read Part 2!