MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: THE HUNTERS
HEART OF THE HUNTER
December 1998, Special Edition #1214 A wounded, brooding marine finds his heart while guarding a vulnerable beauty.
HUNTER’S WOMAN
July 1999, Special Edition #1255 A determined military man wants his woman back—and she’s carrying his child!
HUNTER’S PRIDE
October 1999, Special Edition #1274 A sexy mercenary takes on a lovely partner whose passion rivals his own.
Look for the fourth book in the series,
THE UNTAMED HUNTER,
in Silhouette Desire (SD #1262) in January 2000!
For those of you who’d like to read the stories featuring Morgan Trayhern and his family—and see where
MORGAN’S MERCENARIES
began!—you won’t want to miss this exciting 3-in-1 volume:
LOVE AND GLORY
Contents
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 One
Would Kulani Dawson say yes? Morgan Trayhern’s hand hovered over the phone as he hesitated, his mouth pulled in a slash, his brows drawn. A month ago, he’d asked her to do some low-key detective work for him on the island of Kauai, where she lived, and she’d come through with valuable information for Perseus. Morgan knew that Kulani had done it because of their friendship, even though she no longer worked for him.
How could he make this next request of her? She would think him heartless. But Kulani had been a high-powered, ambitious woman at one time. Before the accident she’d been a highflier, and now she was living what he considered a desultory life flying tourists around her island. That was a helluva comedown from what she had been. In his gut, Morgan felt she needed the mission he was about to offer her. She needed something to bring her life, and herself, back into sharp, passionate focus once again. Besides, he had no choice. Not one damn alternative. Kulani was the best merc for this job.
With his heart wrenching, Morgan withdrew his hand from the phone and wiped his damp palm against his dark, pinstripe slacks. He didn’t try and minimize how Kulani would react to his request.
She was like a daughter to him. He hoped his own daughters would someday grow up and be a lot like her. She was a woman of incredible courage, having taken part in the Gulf War, where after being shot down, she still managed to bring her helicopter crew back to safety. And she was just a kid back then. Hadn’t even seen thirty yet. Her career in the navy had been meteoric. How lucky Morgan had counted himself in wooing her over to Perseus, afterward.
Sitting down at his desk, he felt his gut tightening. He had to make the call. Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of lives rested on it. Still, how could he do this to her? He knew the awful tragedy of Kulani’s past. After the accident, she had quit Perseus abruptly. Now she was trying to rebuild her life, and Morgan had done what he could to help her do that. She had gone home, where her heart was, to the place she had been born—Kauai, Hawaii. Morgan knew she was trying to pick up the pieces of her shattered life and he was about to blow it all to hell.
“Damn,” he muttered. His low, growling voice echoed around the large, walnut-paneled office. Raking his fingers through dark hair touched with silver at the temples, he fixed his gaze on the photo of Laura, his wife. Her blond hair mussed by a playful breeze, she sat on the steps of their cedar home, high in the Rocky Mountains. Their son Jason sat to her left, and their second born, Katherine Alyssa, or Katy, at her right. In Laura’s arms were their youngest children, a set of fraternal twins, Peter and Kelly. Laura had always wanted a large family, and they were certainly on their way to having just that. The twins, at eighteen months, looked like healthy little pink butterballs in Laura’s loving arms. The light shining in his wife’s eyes told him just how proud she was of them. Of him. Together, out of their love, they were creating more love in the image of their children.
Smiling a little, Morgan sighed heavily as he picked up the photo. Without his family, he wouldn’t want to live. How destitute Kulani must have felt when she lost the man she loved to such a horrifying accident. Worst of all, she had watched him die. Fingers tightening momentarily around the oak frame of the photo, Morgan could imagine all too well the trauma of losing Laura or his children. Actually, he’d nearly lost them once to vicious drug lords when he and his family had been kidnapped years ago. And how would he feel if someone called him less than a year and half after such a tragedy and asked him to go back to the very scene of the accident? To the place where his life had been ripped irrevocably apart?
He had to be some kind of unfeeling bastard to call Kulani and do just that. Would she understand? Would she be able to get past her grief in order to understand the dangerous nature of the mission he was going to speak to her about? Would she be able to see how necessary it was for him to ask her to take on such danger? How would he react to such a call? He’d tell the caller to go to hell.
Making a grab for the phone, Morgan cursed himself. Cursed his job. He was asking the impossible of Kulani. And she had every right to hate him for what he was going to ask of her.
“Hello?”
Morgan’s fingers tightened around the phone. “Kulani? This is Morgan. How are you?”
He heard the gasp of surprise and then the pleasure in her low, soft voice. “Morgan! It’s so nice to hear from you. I’m fine.”
“Am I catching you at a bad time?” He wiped the sweat off his upper lip.
With a slight chuckle, Kulani said, “I’m having my morning Kauai coffee. I’ve got to leave for the airport in about ten minutes. To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you? Are the twins okay?”
How like Kulani to inquire about his children. She loved all children, which made her loss even more devastating. With the man she’d hoped to marry gone, Morgan didn’t know if she’d ever have children of her own. His heart pounding, he continued, “The twins are fine. And so are Laura, Jason and Katy. My call is business, Kulani.”
“Oh.” Her voice fell flat. “I got you the information you asked for on that professor.”
“Yes, the information you got us was vital. And I’m grateful.” He hesitated, thought to hell with it and dove in. “I need your help again, Kulani.”
“Morgan…” she pleaded softly, “I don’t want—”
“Please, Kulani, hear me out. You’re the only one who can help us. And if there was anyone else I could ask to take this mission, believe me, I would.”
“A mission? I don’t work for Perseus anymore, Morgan. I’m done with that part of my life.”
The raw desperation in her voice gutted him. “Just hear me out, Kulani. That’s all I ask,” he pleaded, clenching the phone.
The silence was serrating. Finally, Kulani whispered, “I’ll listen, Morgan, but I won’t change my mind. I can’t….”
Heartened, Morgan began what he hoped was a story that would make her change her mind. Sweat beaded on his wrinkled brow. He didn’t have much time,