He surged to his feet, and the hammock flapped, the sound raucous and harsh in the still afternoon. His expression was hooded, his eyes the color of melted caramel. “Ma’am, I fly choppers. That’s all. You got a hankering to tour the Everglades?”
Squinting up at him against the brightness, she realized she’d been right about his height, for she barely came to his shoulder. It was all she could do not to take another step back. Instead, she shook her head, tried to smile, tried to remember this was all for Gramps.
“Nothing so spectacular. Just…a temporary assignment. I’ll make it worth your while.”
She regretted the innuendo in her words instantly, for he gave her another once-over, and his skeptical expression made her face heat with humiliation. Dammit, she knew she wasn’t Cleopatra, knew she didn’t possess a single quality that would turn a man’s head, but she wasn’t offering him that!
He cocked one lean hip and ran an absent hand through the damp bramble on his chest. Overhead, the palm fronds clattered. “What just exactly are you saying, ma’am?”
“Will you stop doing that?” she exploded.
“What?”
Shoving back the tendrils that had escaped her ponytail, she glared at him. “Ma’am-ing me to death! I’m not your sainted mother.”
Incredibly, his lips twitched. “No, ma’am.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. Damn him, he wasn’t making this easy! She gritted her teeth. “I’m trying to make you a business proposition, if you’ll only listen!”
His look was sardonic. “You’ve got my attention.”
“Look, I’ve heard that you and your friends do…er, unusual work from time to time and I thought, that is…” She groaned in distress and buried her face in her hands.
A large hand cupped her shoulder, and his tone, though tinged with impatience, was almost kind. “Spit it out, honey.”
Lifting her head, she forced herself to say it. “I need a husband. Will you marry me?”
She didn’t look crazy.
But then, what did insane look like? Gabe wondered. Surely he would never have guessed it would be this bundle of female nerves currently gazing up at him as if he were the wrath of God Himself.
There wasn’t much to her, either, except for a wealth of wavy raven black hair escaping from a childish ponytail. She was petite and too slender for his tastes, save the unexpected fullness of womanly breasts pressing against her simple cotton shirt. Her milky skin would never capture the usual Florida tan, and her features were even but insignificant, with the exception of her eyes, round and a blue that was almost violet. And she certainly wasn’t any kind of sophisticate. Her hands were work worn, her nails short and practical. In any other setting, he’d have said she was as normal as the day was long.
No, she didn’t look the type to propose to a total stranger, but what the hell did he know about such mysterious, unfathomable creatures as women? For the first time in a long and distinguished career, former Army Ranger Captain Gabriel Thornton could think of nothing to say. And Miss Sarah Ann Dempsey was waiting for an answer.
“Uh, ma’am—”
“Sarah. My name is Sarah Ann.”
“Sarah.” Frowning, he searched her face. “Uh, how long have you been out in the sun today?”
Frustration pleated her brow. “You don’t understand.”
“Damn straight I don’t.” He was coming out of his stupor, amazement and annoyance building to anger.
It was true he and his former commando partners, Mike Hennesey and Rafe Okee, were more or less free-lance troubleshooters these days and based their services out of the Angel’s Landing Marina, so her roundabout talk of special circumstances and unusual assignments had sounded legitimate at first. After all, even tired old soldiers who’d found a home of sorts needed to earn a living. And they still had the special skills and training to do it on their own terms.
It was also true that he was punchy from a two-day-andnight charter flight carting biologists around the Big Cypress Preserve in search of some exotic endangered snail. It might not be quite as exciting as invading small subtropical countries, but he’d had enough of that to last a lifetime, and besides, it paid the bills.
So all he’d wanted was a little peace and quiet and some downtime in his favorite hammock. Certainly the last thing he needed was a madwoman flinging marriage proposals at him.
“Lady, I don’t know what your game is—”
“I’m perfectly serious!”
“—but I’m not buying,” he said, his voice a growl of warning. “You want a lover? Find a gigolo. A baby? Try the local sperm bank. In the meantime, I think you’d best sashay your fanny right off my property.”
She blinked, taken aback, then burst out laughing.
Gabe was certain he was dealing with a lunatic now. Hysterical, that’s what she was. Maybe Rafe’s medical kit had some kind of sedative…
“You actually think—?” She tried to stifle another bout of wild laughter and failed. “Oh Lord, I guess that was pretty clumsy. I can’t help it. I’m nervous. I’ve never done this kind of thing before.”
“That I can believe.” Out of patience, Gabe grabbed her elbow and began hustling her around the front of the main building toward her parked truck. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“For gosh sakes, it won’t be real.” Her nose tilted at an indignant angle. “What do you take me for? I want to hire you to pretend to be my husband.”
Gabe braked to a halt at her bumper, his boots sliding on the crushed shells. Somehow this admission was even worse. “Why the hell would you want to do a crazy thing like that?”
She glanced out over the glistening bay beyond them, chewing her lip. “I have my reasons.”
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
Defiance darkened her expression, and a mulish pucker compressed her soft mouth. “It’s about family. You won’t understand.”
Her assumption stung him. Hell, though he didn’t see them often, he cherished his own family back in Texas. What couldn’t he understand? “Try me.”
She took a deep breath, weighing her words. “It’s my grandfather.”
“What about him?”
“He’s dying. They tell me it’s just a matter of weeks.” Her eyes filled.
Gabe felt something punch him in the gut. “Damn, don’t do that.”
She leaned against the truck fender for support and blotted the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. “I’m sorry.”
Feeling awkward around female tears, he began to stuff his shirttail into his jeans. “It’s too bad. Crusty old codger, as I recall.”
“Yes. He’s all I’ve got.” Regaining her composure, she lifted her face. “And he’s worried about me. Wants to see me settled before he goes. It’s become an obsession. He’s not peaceful. So you understand why I’d do anything to make him happy.”
“Even lie to him?”
She blanched, then swallowed hard. “Even that. What harm will it do?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“None. And otherwise…” She broke off with a defensive shrug.
Gabe narrowed his eyes. There was something else, something she wasn’t telling him. “Otherwise,