Call To Honor. Tawny Weber

man had been declared presumed dead by the Navy, but things weren’t adding up.

      Lusting after Ramsey’s ex wasn’t a part of the mission. And while it might not be sanctioned by the Navy—yet—Diego was on a mission. He was going to settle the issue of Ramsey’s life or death. Once he did, he could clear his team and his own reputation. And expose a traitor.

      So no matter how it shook out, Ramsey’s ex was trouble.

      Diego glanced back at the darkened window and grimaced.

      But there was trouble, and then there was trouble. When a man spent most of his life in danger, he became an expert on recognizing it. On knowing how to use it, how to diffuse it, how to make it explode. And how to simply make it go away.

      And his current mission was to figure out which kind of trouble Harper Maclean was.

      And deal with it.

      * * *

      “WE NEED TO FIND you someone sexy. Maybe intense, but not prison break intense. Not that prison break can’t be sexy,” Andi mused. “I’d imagine it could be given the right guy.”

      “You have issues. You might consider talking with a professional.”

      Harper made the halfhearted suggestion with most of her attention focused on finding just the right shade of blue to complement the yellow color scheme in the Andersons’ atrium.

      She was working with a design board, three-by-four-feet in size, which was framed in the same wood that would cover the floors. Instead of paper, it was covered in a muscat-toned plaster she planned to use on the wall, and sketches of the furnishings and various swatches. She used digital software when necessary, but preferred a variety of boards. The colors were truer, the textures and contrasts more visibly appealing.

      And she liked to touch.

      “What sort of professional are we talking about?” Andi asked, her joking tone coming through the speakerphone as clearly as if she’d been sitting right there in Harper’s office with a smirk on her face.

      “I was thinking a health care one, but given your obsession with sex, maybe other options would be more helpful.”

      Harper draped a cobalt length of satin over the board and stepped back a couple of feet. Head tilted to the side, she considered the impact of that strong blue against the butter-yellow leather designated for the couches, the rich walnut of the floors and the creamy biscuit hue that would be the cement planters.

      Mrs. Anderson wanted the space for friendly luncheons, cozy teas and the occasional intimate dinner party. Why she couldn’t use the dining room was beyond Harper, but who was she to question the rich and snobby? Mr. Anderson wanted a place where he could sit down for some peace and quiet and read a damned book, to paraphrase his only request.

      She thought she’d achieved that balance with the comfortably stuffed couches, the feminine, curved lines of the chairs and the oval stained glass table for those intimate meals.

      “Speaking of sex,” Andi said, bringing the conversation back in a direction Harper was trying to avoid. “Let’s find you a date.”

      “I thought I’d made it clear that I’m not in the market for a guy,” she murmured under her breath as she switched the cobalt-blue swatch for cornflower and stepped back again.

      Hmm, personally she preferred the bolder cobalt, but she was pretty sure the client would go for the softer shade. With that in mind, she began pulling various swatches in the same shade from the cedar box where she stored her fabrics. Cotton, linen, brocade, silk.

      “Fine. If you don’t want a man, I’ll find you a woman. What type do you like?”

      “Exotic brunettes who prefer tequila to champagne, sing off-key and sneak chocolate to my kid,” Harper reeled off, paying more attention to the play of shantung against the leather than to the conversation. Man or woman, doing either wasn’t on her agenda. If it had been, Brandon’s abrupt reentry into her life was enough of a reminder of just what stupid looked like. Since she’d already been there, she didn’t see any reason to go again.