Sara Stone - Command Performance

Subject: Chief Warrant Officer Hunter Cross

Mission: Keep Margaret Barlow distracted…using any means necessary!

Ranger Hunter Cross is the army poster child—excitement, danger and no strings in sight. And he’s been in town exactly three hours before a curvy blonde named Maggie flashes him a look that says “You belong in my bed.” It’s a night of wicked satisfaction. And it’s a night they can never repeat….

All Professor Maggie Barlow wanted was orgasm—or three—from the dead-sexy Ranger. Having him as her official army liaison while she works on her new book? That wasn’t in the plan. Especially when she learns that Hunter has orders to “control” her. Little does the army know that when it comes to their deliciously naughty nighttime activities, Hunter is at Maggie’s complete command….

Uniformly Hot!

The Few. The Proud. The Sexy as Hell.

Twelve military heroes. Twelve indomitable heroines. One UNIFORMLY HOT! miniseries.

Mills & Boon ®Blaze ®’s bestselling miniseries continues with another year of irresistible soldiers from all branches of the armed forces.

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The Few. The Proud. The Sexy as Hell .

Dear Reader,

I’m thrilled to be able to share my debut Mills & Boon Blaze novel with you! I’ve been a fan of Blaze’s supertalented authors for years and am honored to join their ranks with Command Performance.

Have you ever wanted to set aside all the things you should do and just do something for yourself? Meet Maggie, a woman whose life is defined by responsibility. But for one night she wants to set everything else aside and go after what she wants—a man who can make her fantasies come true. But what happens when Maggie discovers her one-night stand holds the key to her professional success?

U.S. Army Ranger Hunter Cross loves his job. And he’s the perfect man for Maggie’s one night of wild sex. He possesses a drool-worthy body and he excels at taking charge, especially in the bedroom. And as their relationship grows, Hunter becomes the one person in Maggie’s life who takes care of her for a change.

I loved writing about a woman discovering herself and her needs, some emotional and some sexual. I hope you enjoy Maggie’s journey, too.

And I would love to hear from you! Please visit my website, www.sarajanestone.com, where I will be sharing my journey down the road to publication, behind-the-scenes details on the inspiration behind my U.S. Army Rangers and much more. Or find me on Facebook at Sara Jane Stone.

Happy reading!

Sara Jane Stone

Command

Performance

Sara Jane Stone

www.millsandboon.co.uk

After several years on the other side of the publishing industry, SARA JANE STONEbid goodbye to her sales career to pursue her dream—writing romance novels. Armed with a firm belief that dreams do come true, she sat down at her keyboard to write fun, sexy stories like the ones she loved to read. Sara Jane currently resides in Brooklyn, New York, with her very supportive real-life hero, two lively young children and a lazy burmese cat. Visit her online at www.sarajanestone.com, or become a fan of Sara Jane Stone on Facebook, or follow her on Twitter, @sarajanestone.

To Jill and Brenda,

for making this story shine and for helping me

get it into readers’ hands.

To my parents,

who always believed I should be a writer.

To my children,

thank you for napping, and for being

the top two reasons I love having a job

that allows me to stay at home.

To my husband,

for supporting and believing in me.

You’re my hero forever and always.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Excerpt

Prologue

“WHERE IS THE CHOCOLATE?” Maggie Barlow stood on her front porch, the door to the three-story mansion that had been in her family for generations open behind her, allowing the cooled air to escape into the hot July night. She watched her best friend since the second grade march up the steps with a pair of four-inch stilettos in her hand. Not a bakery box in sight.

“You need these more.” Olivia thrust the shoes at her.

Maggie looked down at the shiny white stilts she held and frowned. Twenty-four hours earlier, she’d caught her supposedly stable and reliable fiancé with his pants down—literally—and his nineteen-year-old research assistant bent over his desk wearing nothing but a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs. She needed double-fudge brownies, not shoes.

In a lime-green sundress and pink platform sandals, Olivia looked as if she’d wandered away from a tropical vacation, not the upscale art gallery she managed. She marched into the foyer. “Come with me. I need to look in your closet.”

“I ended things with Derrick,” Maggie said, following Olivia to the second story. “You thought I was crazy to marry a man because we had similar careers and interests. You said I was making the safe choice and turning my back on love because it was too messy. You hated him. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“Oh, we will, but not here. I have a plan.” Olivia led the way to Maggie’s bedroom and pointed to the neatly made bed. “Sit while I find something for you to wear.”

Maggie set the heels on the floor. They were beautiful shoes, but not for her. As a rule, she opted for sensible flats. She looked up as clothing flew out of her walk-in closet. Gray and black suits—boring, take-me-seriously work clothes perfect for a political science professor with a specialty in military studies—landed in a pile on the floor as Olivia searched for something she deemed appropriate for her “plan.”

“You’re lucky there’s a car show at the Hudson Valley fairgrounds this weekend.” Olivia emerged from the closet holding the skinny jeans Maggie didn’t intend to wear outside the house until she gave up linguine Alfredo. Her friend tossed them on the bed and turned back to the closet. “Put these on while I find you a shirt.”

Maggie went over to the growing pile of business suits. Piece by piece, she picked them up and carefully placed each one over the back of her armchair. “Why would we go to a car show?”

Olivia reappeared with a backless green shirt. “The guys there will love your grandfather’s vintage Mercedes.”

“The Mercedes is in the shop. I’m renting a Toyota for the weekend.” Her late grandfather’s car spent about as much time in the shop as it did out of it.

“You could afford a new one,” Olivia pointed out.

“But I love that car. It reminds me of happier times.” Before she’d lost her mother, before her grandfather passed away from a heart attack and before her father returned from war broken, unable to handle the fact that two bullets in the thigh had ended his career with the U.S. Army Rangers. “And why should anyone at a car show care what I’m driving?”

Olivia picked up the clothes she’d selected and held them out to Maggie. “Because we’re going to find you a man. I did a Google search for the top ten places to meet men, and ‘car show’ was in the top five. It outranked baseball games. Now get dressed.”

Maggie froze, the clothes in her arms. “I just ended my engagement. I don’t need to meet another man. I need to focus on work. I have to face a room full of generals at West Point on Monday morning. They’re in town for the president’s speech later this week, and the army’s demanding I speak with them before they’ll grant me access to the team of Rangers I need to interview for my book. This six-man team rode horses belonging to an Afghan warlord to rescue three female aid workers. They’re heroes. Modern-day cowboys. If I can secure these interviews, I’ll be able to share their accomplishments with the world.”