Elle James - Marine Force Recon

Wrong place, wrong time.

Right man for the job.

Declan O’Neill’s US Marines career is over, but nothing can stop him from saving lives. When he starts an organization that aims to help people who can’t defend themselves, his first client is a woman desperate for answers. Grace Lawrence knows something happened to her roommate, and she’s certain she can trust Declan to uncover the truth...though she wonders if she can trust herself with a soldier like Declan.

Declan’s Defenders

ELLE JAMES, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at ellejames@earthlink.net or ellejames.com.

Also by Elle James

One Intrepid SEAL

Two Dauntless Hearts

Three Courageous Words

Four Relentless Days

Five Ways to Surrender

Six Minutes to Midnight

Hot Combat

Hot Target

Hot Zone

Hot Velocity

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Marine Force Recon

Elle James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09377-4

MARINE FORCE RECON

© 2019 Mary Jernigan

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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This book is dedicated to my father, who will always

be my number one hero. He spent twenty years on

active duty defending our country, and he has spent a

lifetime caring for and protecting his family. He’s what

heroes are made of, and I love him so very much.

Love you, Dad!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

About the Publisher

Declan O’Neill hiked his rucksack higher on his shoulders and trudged down the sidewalk in downtown Washington, DC. The last time he’d seen so many people in one place, he’d been a fresh recruit at US Marine Corps Basic Training in San Diego, California, standing among a bunch of teenagers, just like him, being processed into the military.

He shouldered his way through the throngs of sightseers, businessmen and career women hurrying to the next building along the road. The sun shone on a bright spring day. Cherry blossoms exploded in fluffy, pinkish-white dripping petals onto the lawns and sidewalks in an optimistic display of hope.

Hope.

Declan snorted. Here he was, eleven years after joining the US Marine Corps...eleven years of knowing what was expected of him...of not having to decide what to wear each day. Eleven years of a steady paycheck, no matter how small, in an honorable profession, making a difference in the world.

Now he was faced with the daunting task of job hunting with a huge strike on his record.

But not today.

Why he’d decided to take the train from Bethesda, Maryland, to the political hub of the entire country was beyond his own comprehension. But with nowhere else to go and nothing holding him back—no job, no family, no home—he’d thought why not?

He’d never been to the White House, never stopped to admire the Declaration of Independence, drafted by the forefathers of his country, and he’d never stood at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial, in the shadow of the likeness of Abraham Lincoln, a leader who’d set the United States on a revolutionary course. He’d never been to the Vietnam War Memorial or any other memorial in DC.

Yeah. And so what?

Sightseeing wouldn’t pay the bills. Out of the military, out of money and sporting a dishonorable discharge, Declan would be hard-pressed to find a decent job. Who would hire a man whose only skills were superb marksmanship that allowed him to kill a man from four hundred yards away, expertise in hand-to-hand combat and the ability to navigate himself out of a paper bag with nothing more than the stars and his wits?

In the age of the internet, desk jobs and background checks, he was doomed to end up in a homeless shelter. With his last ninety-eight dollars and fifty-five cents burning a hole in the pocket of his rucksack, he’d decided to see the country’s capital before he couldn’t afford to. As for a place to sleep? He could duke it out with the other homeless people for a back alley or a park bench. Maybe he’d get lucky and someone would slit his throat and put him out of his misery.

He paused at a corner, waiting for the light to change and the little walking man to blink on in bright white.

As he waited, he noticed a couple of dark SUVs sandwiching a long, sleek white limousine. Not that he hadn’t seen at least half a dozen limousines pass in the last twenty minutes he’d been walking. But he was standing still now and had nothing else but the backs of people’s heads to stare at.