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  Praise for

  Catherine Mann and the Dark Ops novels

  “Catherine Mann weaves deep emotion with intense suspense for an all-night read.”

  —Sherrilyn Kenyon, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Catherine Mann’s picture should be in the dictionary next to ‘superb.’ Military romance fans rejoice!”

  —Suzanne Brockmann, New York Times bestselling author

  “A brilliant…adventure woven with gripping emotion.”

  —Dianna Love, New York Times bestselling author

  “Heart-pounding.”

  —Booklist

  “As gripping in its suspense as it is touching in its emotional pull.”

  —Romance Junkies

  “Nonstop action, nail-biting suspense, and heart-stopping romance.”

  —The Romance Studio

  “A terrific tale!”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  “Not only riveting but also movingly profound…Will captivate your imagination.”

  —Cataromance Reviews

  “I loved all of Ms. Mann’s Dark Ops books and highly recommend that you check them out.”

  —TwoLips Reviews

  “Entertaining, pleasurable, and suspenseful. One can’t help falling in love with the characters. A great read!”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Terrific romantic suspense that never slows down…An action-packed story line.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  /body>

  Berkley Sensation Titles by Catherine Mann

  Dark Ops Novels

  DEFENDER

  HOTSHOT

  RENEGADE

  PROTECTOR

  GUARDIAN

  GUARDIAN

  CATHERINE MANN

  BERKLEY SENSATION, NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  GUARDIAN

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / September 2012

  Copyright © 2012 by Catherine Mann.

  Excerpt from Protector by Catherine Mann copyright © 2012 by Catherine Mann.

  Cover art by Dan O’Leary.

  Interior text design by Laura K. Corless.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-58147-6

  BERKLEY SENSATION®

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  ALWAYS LEARNING

  PEARSON

  To Joseph. Welcome to the family. Love you, son!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As a longtime fan of the TV show JAG, I have always dreamed of penning a book about a female military lawyer. I’m thrilled to say Guardian offered me the right vehicle for just such a character. Once Sophie stepped up to question her witness, aviator David “Ice” Berg, the story took wings!

  Many, many thanks to my editor, Wendy McCurdy, for her fabulous insights. I’m eternally grateful to my longtime agent Barbara Collins Rosenberg. As always, I count myself blessed to have the best critique partner in the world, Joanne Rock. Writing is for the most part a solitary job, and I know I’m a lucky author to have such a stellar support network!

  Last, but never least, thank you to my four quirky, amazing, utterly lovable children—Brice, Haley, Robbie, and Maggie. (See, Brice and Haley, I finally named characters after you!) And to my air-force-hero hubby, who surprised me with chocolate-covered strawberries as I struggled to meet my deadline. I love you!

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Protector

  ONE

  NELLIS AFB, NEVADA

  Major Sophie Campbell had wanted to be a JAG since she lost her father in elementary school. That didn’t mean she always enjoyed her job.

  Today, she downright hated it.

  But come hell or high water, she would get some useful nuggets of information out of the witness for the defense—cocky aviator David “Ice” Berg.

  “Major Berg, you are aware that the fire control officer on your test team, a man under your command, made a serious error firing from an AC-130 aircraft into a private citizen’s home?”

  “Ma’am, I’ve seen the tapes from the test flight,” Berg drawled, his South Carolina roots coating each word. “It’s tough to miss the flames. But Captain Tate didn’t screw up.”

  Of all the test directors to be in charge of this particular mission, why did it have to be Berg? Sexy as hell, with a sense of humor and unflappable calm, he managed to charm his way through life.

  Not today.

  “Let me rephrase the question.” Sophie flipped through the pages of her legal pad.

  Stalling.

  She didn’t actually need further information. She needed to decide the best tact for extracting crucial evidence from the rock-headed aviator occupying the witness stand for the past two hours. Based on prior encounters with stubborn Major David Berg, Sophie prepared herself for a protracted battle.

  “Major Berg,” she pressed, dropping her paper
on the walnut table in the military courtroom, “in the month leading up to the incident, your team was under incredible pressure to complete testing on the gun mount system on the AC-130—the attack modified version of the C-130. You were being pushed to finish ahead of schedule so the upgraded system could be used in combat.”

  “Objection!” Counsel for the defense leapt to his feet. “Is there a question?”

  “Sustained,” the judge, Colonel Christensen, monotoned. “Get to the point, please, Major Campbell.”

  “Yes, sir.” She nodded.

  Berg didn’t so much as blink. He’d earned his call sign “Ice” honestly. The man truly was an iceberg under pressure, and today’s stakes were high. Damn high. In order for a child to get justice, a young captain with a spotless record would have his life and career ruined with a court-martial conviction.

  This case sucked on a lot of levels.

  “I’ll rephrase.” A simple twist in wording would get the question before the witness and hopefully cast doubt in the jurors’ minds. “Are you certain Captain Tate didn’t cut corners on crew rest before the mission in question?”

  Berg quirked a dark, lazy brow. “Asked and answered in my initial deposition. I am certain.”

  Sure, she was pushing the edge of the envelope with badgering a witness, but her options had dwindled in the past couple of hours. She needed to win this case. Too many people counted on her. Primarily, the child injured in the military testing accident. But also, her own child, who was dependent solely on her.

  She refused to consider that Berg might be right. Not that she doubted his honesty. His pristine reputation at Nellis Air Force Base was highly respected. Well, as much of a reputation as anyone could garner working in the top secret field of dark ops testing. He was known as a by-the-book aviator with nerves of steel. Still, he must have missed something or been misled by those who worked for him. Maybe he had to cut a corner in the testing process that led to Captain Tate making this tragic—and too damn high-profile—military accident.

  “Major Berg, do you acknowledge that there was immense pressure in the month leading up to the incident in question?”

  “Stress is standard ops in the test world.”

  “And why might the pressure be higher during wartime?”

  “Troops in the field need the technology we develop.”

  “And in times of stress, you agree that sleep can be difficult?”

  Sophie neared the raised wooden stand. Berg radiated such raw strength, she doubted any amount of months on the job would lay him low.

  Banked embers within her were suddenly fanned to life.

  Her steps faltered.

  Heat?

  The slumbering numbness that had invaded her emotions for the past year eased awake with a burning tingle. An almost painful warmth spread through her, begging to be fed by…

  Major David Berg? David? Ice? No frickin’ way!

  What could have snagged her attention now, after she’d known him for at least a year and a half? Something about him today seemed different.

  His mustache, she realized abruptly. He’d shaved his mustache, unveiling a full, sensuous…

  Sophie blinked once, twice. Had he noticed her lapse? A honking-big, unprofessional lapse.

  She cleared her throat along with her thoughts. “Did Captain Tate receive the full eight hours of crew rest?”

  “Twelve hours, ma’am,” Berg answered smoothly. “Regulations state crew rest is twelve hours long, something I know, my crews know, and I’m sure you know as well.”

  “Of course, twelve hours.” Well, it had been worth a try to trip him up and create a reasonable doubt. Moving on to plan B.

  Sophie closed the last two feet between them, stopping just in front of Berg. Air-conditioning gusted from the vents above, working overtime to combat the Nevada summer heat. Her uniform clung to her back, the blue service coat about as thick and stifling as a flak jacket right now.

  Her nerves must be frazzled from the insane year of restructuring her life as a single mother. She needed to concentrate on her job, not…him. Since Lowell’s death, she didn’t have the time or energy for anything other than caring for her son and paying off the mountain of bills her husband had left behind.

  She pressed ahead, placing an evidence bag with a scheduling log inside on the witness stand. “If it’s twelve hours, then I’m confused how you fit in the missions and required rest without a single minute being off.”

  He picked up the schedule, scanned it, and placed it back on the stand. “The numbers are tight, but they work. Yes, we were on a deadline. A tight one with no wriggle room, not even a minute. That’s what we do, year in and year out. When has the military not been overworked and undermanned?” Berg’s drawl snapped with the first twinges of impatience. “So in essence, the crazy-ass schedule we work is actually standard.”

  Trained to watch for the least sign of weakening in her witness, Sophie rejoiced over the almost imperceptible clench of his jaw. Berg’s pulse throbbed faster above his uniform collar, the reaction so subtle, she felt certain only she noticed. She ignored her own quickening heart.

  Time to press the advantage, if she dared.

  A quick glance at the judge’s bench reassured her. The jowly presider looked in need of some crew rest himself. She had to move fast.

  “Major, you can’t be with your testers twenty-four/seven. So it’s actually impossible for you to say with complete certainty that Captain Tate received the required amount of rest prior to his mission. I mean really, did you walk with him every step of the way?” Her words fell free with a soft intensity that curled through their pocket of space. “Eat with him? Follow him to the bathroom?”

  If she could just piss off Berg enough, she sensed he would snap and slip, say one little thing wrong that would enable her to secure a conviction. It wasn’t like he would go to jail—although somehow she knew he would rather take the punishment on himself than see anyone in his command suffer the shame of a court-martial.

  “Ma’am, I’m not required to watch my testers sleep. Although I did see Captain Tate drive away, in the direction of his home, after dinner—which I did watch him eat.” His steely eyes glinted like the flecks of silver dusting his brown hair. “However, I didn’t follow him into the bathroom, since we’re not a couple of junior high girls.”

  Sophie snapped back a step.

  Chuckles drifted from the jury and the handful of observers in flight suits sitting behind Tate. Even her boss, observing from the very back, brought a hand to his mouth to cover his grin. Damn it. Of course Berg played well to a crowd. In a military proceeding, the accused could choose between a judge or jury trial, and just her luck, they’d gotten a jury.

  “Order!” The judge’s jowly cheeks shook like a basset hound’s. His gavel resounded through the military courtroom.

  Part of being a successful attorney involved knowing when to retreat with grace, recouping for the next advance. Having foolishly depended on her husband for so many years, after his death, she now struggled with the concept of relinquishing control, of not delivering the last shot.

  “Thank you, Major, for that…enlightening…information about the personal-hygiene habits of your unit. I only wish you could be so forthcoming with the rest of your testimony.” Sophie turned to the bench. “Withdrawn.”

  The judge darted a censorious glare her way. The jury and Berg’s fellow flyboys laughed again, but this time she didn’t mind.

  He moved forward, his shoulders and chest seeming to enlarge, filling the witness stand with his muscular chest full of military ribbons—a Distinguished Flying Cross, a Bronze Star, and almost too many air medals to count. Each oak-leaf cluster signified ten more combat missions. He didn’t just put his ass on the line testing the newest equipment in the inventory. Berg served overseas, sometimes the first to use those new systems outside the test world.

  Rumor had it he’d received that Distinguished Flying Cross in Afghanistan. As the fire
control officer in an AC-130 gunship, he’d held off hundreds of Taliban fighters attempting to capture a pinned-down SEAL team. His plane had circled and circled, with Berg staying in the fight well past daylight, dangerous for the aircraft. He’d shot so precisely, so effectively, his ammo had lasted until a helicopter could arrive with pararescuemen to scoop up the injured SEALs.

  She accepted the inevitable. Any shot she could deliver here today wasn’t going to rattle a man who’d spent hours flying over hundreds of Taliban fighters lobbing potshots and aiming rocket launchers his way.

  “Nothing further.” Sophie affected her most efficient walk, heels tapping back to the table. Her boss, Lieutenant Colonel Vaughn, nodded approvingly from the back. She pivoted on the toes of her low pumps to face the judge again. “We reserve the option of recalling this witness.”

  After two hours of cross-examination, she’d scored more than a few points.

  At what cost?

  She and Berg had run into each other during early depositions. And even before that, they’d first met in a past investigation, but she’d still been married then. He’d been in the middle of a messy divorce. She hadn’t looked at him—hadn’t really seen him—the way she did today.

  Regardless, stakes were too high for her to worry about David Berg. If she won the court-martial proceeding, that cleared the way for the young boy injured in the accident to move forward with a civil suit.

  The judge rested his fist on his jowly cheek. “You may step down, Major Berg.”

  Sophie averted her gaze from the witness, pretending to jot notes. With an hour left until court recessed, she didn’t want to risk jack. No doubt when she saw Berg next the unexpected attraction would have left as abruptly as it had arrived.

  Annnd, she looked at him anyway. Damn.

  Her nerves sizzled.

  Tucking his wheel cap under his arm, the major circled to the front of the stand. His uniform fit his lanky body perfectly, accentuating each athletic stride.

  She studied him from a more personal perspective. Sexy, with brown hair, but not handsome per se, she decided. Not in the conventional sense. His angular features defied so mundane a label.