Elle Kennedy - The Hunted

“What do you want, Eva?”

He asked her in a tight voice.

She met his green eyes and saw unmistakable arousal flashing back at her. The smart thing to do would be to walk away, but her feet refused to comply.

Tate waited a few seconds, then sighed when she still didn’t answer. “Fine. We’ll deal with this later. I’m getting dressed.”

She blocked his path, swallowing hard. Her gaze dropped to his towel, then moved back to his face. A wry note entered her voice. “Don’t bother.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t bother what?”

“Getting dressed.” She brought her hand to his chest and stroked the spot between his pecs. “We both know any clothes you put on will come right off, anyway.”

Tate inhaled sharply, and she felt his pectoral muscles quiver beneath her fingers. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

Dear Reader,

I’m thrilled to be launching a new three-book miniseries with Mills & Boon ®Intrigue—

THE HUNTED! I think the series title says it all: we’re going to be following the stories of three military heroes who are being hunted. By whom and why? Well, that’s what these determined alpha males are trying to figure out!

First up is Captain Robert Tate, gruff, ruthless and undeniably sexy. Tate has one problem, though: he doesn’t trust anyone. Especially the gorgeous, raven-haired woman who tracks him down and asks him to undertake a very dangerous task for her. Eva Dolce also has reasons not to trust—her last relationship turned her into a prisoner, after all. Needless to say, these characters’ journeys were incredibly fun to write—jungle treks, mountain caves, endless bickering, steamy sexual tension. But more than that, their journey is about opening yourself up and learning to trust again.

I really hope you enjoy Tate and Eva’s story. Soon you’ll get the chance to read Sebastian Stone’s book, as the journeys of these special forces soldiers continue …

Happy reading!

Elle

A RITA ®Award-nominated author, ELLE KENNEDYgrew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a BA in English from York University. From an early age she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was a teenager. She loves strong heroines and sexy alpha heroes, and just enough heat and danger to keep things interesting.

Elle loves to hear from her readers. Visit her website, www.ellekennedy.com, for the latest news or to send her a note.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Danielle, Alex and the twins for their invaluable

plotting help. Some of your ideas were … interesting, but the ones that made it into the book? Pure gold.

Also, special thanks to Keyren Gerlach

and Patience Bloom for being so enthusiastic about

this new miniseries!

Eight Months Ago

Corazón, San Marquez

The gunfire finally came to a deafening halt.

Silence.

Captain Robert Tate ignored the ringing in his ears and swept his gaze across the village. It was like looking through a gray haze. The smoke filled his nostrils and stung his eyes, the odor of burned flesh making his stomach roil. Orange flames continued to devour what used to be the church, the only structure left intact. Everything else had been reduced to ash—the ramshackle homes, the schoolhouse, the dusty village square … nothing but ashes.

He covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and looked around, doing a quick head count. Sergeant Stone was bending over the bullet-ridden body of a rebel. Second Lieutenant Prescott was wiping sweat and soot from his brows. Lafayette, Rhodes, Diaz and Berkowski. Where was Timmins? There, maneuvering his way through heaps of charred flesh and mangled bodies.

Tate released a ragged breath. Miraculously, all of his men were accounted for. Despite the thick smoke choking the air, despite the stifling heat from the flames, despite the shootout with the rebels, they’d managed to— Wait. Where the hell was Will?

His shoulders stiffened. “Stone,” he shouted. “Where’s Will?”

Through the smoke, he made out the younger man’s bewildered expression. “Haven’t seen him, Captain. I think he—”

Tate held up a hand to quiet his men. Then he listened. The trees rustled and swayed. Flames crackled. Birds squawked. The wind hissed.

Footsteps. There. Through the brush.

Raising his assault rifle, he broke out in a run, nearly tripping over the body of a raven-haired woman burned beyond recognition. One of the villagers.

Later. Think about the villagers later.

As his heart drummed in his chest, he slowed his pace and moved stealthily through the canopy of smoke toward the tree line. His ears perked. Footsteps. He glimpsed a dark blond head, a flash of olive-green. The silver glint of a blade.

“Don’t move,” Tate ordered.

His prey froze.

With his finger hovering over the trigger, Tate took a few steps forward, just as the rebel holding the knife turned.

Tate’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

“Drop your weapon, amigo.” Hector Cruz’s voice was soft, soothing almost.

An uncharacteristic vise of terror clamped around his throat. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the knife. From the resigned expression in Will’s green eyes.

The rebel tightened his grip on Will, digging the blade deeper into his prisoner’s neck. “Drop the weapon,” Cruz said again. “Drop it, and I’ll let him go.”

“Don’t do it,” Will burst out. “Don’t do it, Captain.”

“Shut up,” Cruz barked at his hostage.

Tate swallowed. He stared into the black eyes of the rebel, seeing nothing but dead calm reflected back at him. The knife sliced deeper into Will’s throat.

Fingers trembling, he lowered his rifle a fraction of an inch.

“That’s it,” Cruz said in encouragement.

“No!” Will shouted. “He’ll kill me regardless.”

The rifle dipped lower.

“For the love of God, shoot the bastard.” Agony rang from Will’s voice. “Forget about me, Robbie. Forget—”

Tate tossed the gun onto the warm brown earth.

Triumph streaked across Cruz’s harsh features. Followed by a grin that lifted his lips. “Bad call,” he said lightly.

And then the rebel slit Will’s throat.

Paraíso, Mexico

This is a mistake.

Eva took one look around the dark, smoky bar and nearly sprinted right out the door. It took her a second to gather her composure, to force her feet to stay rooted to the dirty floor. She couldn’t chicken out. She’d already come this far, traveled over seven thousand miles and crossed two continents to come here.