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  But then the naughty little voice inside her head beckoned. Why couldn’t she do both? Especially if it was just for one night. She could keep it simple. Easy. No regrets. No looking back. And it was her birthday, after all. What could it hurt?

  A sudden, wicked-sounding laugh broke her train of thought. She turned back toward Jillian and found her gazing intently across the room with an odd expression on her face.

  “Something funny happening?”

  “Well, I could be wrong, honey,” Jillian drawled softly, her look guileless as she indicated with a nod of her head. “But if that delectable-looking officer is still of interest, you may have some serious and unexpected competition.”

  Tate looked across the ballroom, and while conversations in multiple languages swelled around her, she watched in stunned silence. The sexy but nameless commander had just approached the secretary of state, waited silently as she completed the conversation she was having with the US ambassador, and then extended her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do.

  Clearly visible from across the room, Althea Kane’s initial irritation lasted mere seconds. In the next instant, her face paled, and she appeared to be almost in shock as she looked up and finally brought the tall, young officer into focus. And before security staff could respond to the apparent breach in protocol and intervene, Kane accepted the proffered hand and allowed the commander to escort her onto the dance floor.

  Tate stared in unabashed fascination as the two women assumed an open embrace and silently waited for the music. Once it commenced, they began to move fluidly around the dance floor, executing a series of long, elegant steps and complicated footwork with apparent ease, as if they were born to it.

  For the next several minutes, Tate was unable to concentrate on anything other than the passionate dance playing out for all to see. In fact, many of the couples on the dance floor ceased their own movements and simply stood, blatantly staring.

  When the music finally concluded, the two women stood motionless in the midst of the crowd, oblivious to the applause their performance had spontaneously generated. The young naval officer released Secretary of State Kane and took a step back. There was a brief exchange of words, followed by another long, seemingly endless minute while the two women simply looked at each other without saying anything.

  And then the commander saluted smartly, turned, and disappeared like a chimera into the crowd, leaving Althea Kane staring into the empty space where she had been.

  Jillian shook her head. “Jesus, that was not only incredible, it was ballsy as hell. Who the hell is she?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” Draining her glass, Tate handed it to a passing waiter and replaced it with a fresh drink. “Don’t wait up for me,” she added softly.

  “One question before you go. What makes you think she’s interested in women?”

  “What makes you think she’s not?”

  “Go, Tate.” Jillian applauded softly. “And happy birthday.”

  Right, Tate thought. Let me make a wish.

  With a determined smile, she began to cut through the crowd, moving unerringly toward the balcony where she had last seen the navy commander before she disappeared.

  *

  Escaping the heat and noise of the crowded ballroom, Evan released a sigh of pure pleasure the moment she stepped outside. The night was quite warm, but she welcomed the relative quiet of the balcony.

  Voices and laughter were all but indiscernible. Only the music filtered through, soft and seductive as it flowed gently around her, while the air carried the scents of the lush plants, twisting vines, and the many exotic blooms in the garden below.

  It was a near-perfect night. The moon, almost full, rode a sky crowded with stars, while the air was filled with promise. After weeks at sea in a crowded floating city where the air was filled with the scent and sound of the jets continuously taking off and landing, this was bliss.

  She breathed deeply, raised her eyes and stared out into the vast and endless night sky, feeling the beauty of the moment stir her. Far above, the canopy of distant lights flirted seductively with her. And as she counted the stars, she lost herself among them.

  Minutes drifted away. But at some point, something—a scent or a sound—intruded, and she became acutely aware another person now shared the darkness with her. A woman standing to her left stared out into the night sky. A faint breeze drifted across the balcony, and Evan caught the allure of her scent. Something subtle, maddening. Or maybe it was only her imagination.

  She chose, for the moment, to say nothing. Instead, she waited while the other woman walked toward the edge of the balcony and leaned over the railing. As she looked out, a soft sigh escaped her. And, after another few seconds had passed, she turned and smiled in Evan’s direction.

  The sexy redhead in the little black dress. She’d noticed her earlier. A classic beauty. Delicate features, flawless skin, and dazzling green eyes.

  Evan schooled her expression as heat swirled through her, maintained a cool and calm exterior while her heart rate increased, and deep inside, she recognized a surge of cautious speculation.

  “Do you mind the company or would you prefer to be left alone?”

  Initially, Evan didn’t say anything. But, finally, she responded with a smile. “I daresay your company would always be preferable to being alone with my thoughts.”

  Her voice was low and smoke edged and soft as the night. Liquid sex. Tate felt an odd combination of chill and heat as the sound of the commander’s voice flowed over her like a silken caress. It was a voice meant for endless nights, and she found herself more aroused. Further proof, if she needed it, confirming it had been much too long.

  A shiver coursed down her spine, and though she warned herself not to do it, Tate lowered her gaze until it fixed on the commander’s sensuous mouth. Just long enough to wonder if it would be as soft as it appeared. Or taste as sweet.

  Her heart slammed and her throat tightened as she forced herself to meet the commander’s eyes. “You’re being very gracious, but I would have thought after being on board a ship—with, what is it? four or five thousand sailors?—you might prefer the solitude.”

  “Good guess. Actually, the Nimitz has a crew of roughly fifty-seven hundred.”

  “And what’s your role in that horde, Commander?”

  A smile came and went. “Air wing.”

  “That means…?”

  “I’m a pilot. I fly an F/A-18E Super Hornet.”

  Intrigued, Tate sipped her champagne and considered the information before nodding quietly. A navy fighter pilot certainly fit with the first impression she had of the young commander. The keen intelligence in her eyes. The aura of self-assurance she had projected while mingling in the ballroom. The elegance with which she had moved as she approached Secretary Kane and led her onto the dance floor. The fluid grace she had demonstrated once she got there.

  “What’s it like to fly?”

  There was no hesitation. “Awesome. When the seas are rough, the deck is pitching, and you’re a thousand miles from the nearest ground-based landing strip, it’s the scariest thing you’ll ever do. You know if you run into a problem, the only option is going to be ditching your aircraft into the ocean.” She paused then smiled. “But on a night like tonight, when you get high into the sky, it tastes like freedom and feels like you can all but touch heaven.”

  A poet. Tate could hear the passion in her voice, and her smile, as it widened, was magnetic. Good God, what would this woman be like on full power?

  She hadn’t finished the thought when her eyes were drawn to the commander’s hands—beautifully shaped, strong hands with long, slender fingers—and Tate realized she was imagining how it would feel to have those hands stroking her body.

  Jesus. She usually had better control over her thoughts than this. Tate cleared her throat, as if that could somehow help clear her mind, as well. “Are you any good?”

  “I am very
, very good.”

  Tate laughed and tried to ignore the double entendre. “I was talking about being a pilot.”

  “Of course. So was I.”

  “Of course you were. And being a pilot means you’ll have a call sign you go by,” she mused out loud. “Dare I guess what it might be?”

  “Don’t bother.” A grin preceded the soft response, and the commander’s expression became filled with wry amusement. “It’s Dancer.”

  “Oh, that’s perfect.” Tate smiled with sheer delight and then tilted her head, staring for a moment as the commander’s mouth continued to tempt. “And that tango, by the way, was absolutely…it was amazing. Where on earth did you learn to dance like that?”

  The commander didn’t answer her for the longest time. Instead, she looked at Tate intently and seemed to be weighing her words carefully. Finally, she appeared to come to a decision and shrugged. “Would you believe me if I said my mother taught me?” she asked, laughter shimmering just beneath her voice.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “Good, because it’s the truth.”

  Tate considered her response but didn’t press. “Well, you certainly got my attention. But why are you out here? Did you get tired of dancing?” she asked, assuming the commander would have had plenty of partners in the crowded ballroom after the performance she had given. “I thought fighter pilots were all about work hard, play hard.”

  “We can be, but I guess tonight I’m just not in the mood.” She cocked her head slightly to one side and their gazes held once again.

  “Then what are you in the mood for, Commander?”

  They stared at each other speculatively for another long, pensive moment. The commander’s eyes—not dark, as Tate had previously thought, but rather a storm-cloud gray—were luminous now, appearing almost silver, and even in the low light Tate could see the interest sparked in her smile. Another thrill raced through her body.

  “If we’re speaking frankly, I’d like to ask if there is anyone in your life right now,” the commander said in that dangerously sexy voice, while moving infinitesimally closer.

  “Why would you want to know that?”

  “I’d like to know if there’s anyone who would be upset about anything that might happen between you and me. Like, perhaps, the very attractive blonde you were standing with earlier.”

  The words hung suspended in the air between them. Tate felt her mouth grow dry once again as the realization hit. While she had been observing the commander, the commander had clearly been watching her in return.

  Tate’s heart rate quickened until it was beating so hard she was sure the commander could hear it. She was equally certain somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear a bell clearly pealing a warning as she hovered on the edge of temptation.

  It had been so very long since she had experienced any kind of visceral response to another person—and never before with a total stranger. She felt overwhelmed by a sudden desire to kiss this unknown woman. Wasn’t that what this moment called for? Wasn’t that why you followed her out to the balcony?

  “That’s quite a segue, Commander,” she said finally, fighting the smile that tightened her lips. “To answer your question, the attractive blonde’s name is Jillian and she’s a very good friend. But just a friend. So, no, there’s no one. Not at the moment. And there hasn’t been for a long time.”

  “Are they all fools?”

  Everything went still inside her as Tate stared blankly, blinking quickly, her chest rising and falling. She paused long enough to brush the curtain of overgrown bangs out of her eyes and set her drink aside. “That’s sweet. But it’s also not very subtle. Are you always this direct?”

  The commander’s face held amusement, and the corners of her mouth twitched with a grin. “I’m sorry,” she said, although she didn’t sound particularly sorry. “But then I wasn’t trying to be sweet. Or subtle. I’ve discovered life’s much too short, and I have other things on my mind.”

  Tate stared at her through narrowed eyes. “Other things?”

  Her smile widened. The twin dimples flashed as she stepped closer and, in a smooth and no doubt practiced move, she slid a hand up to cup Tate’s neck and brought her face closer. “That’s right. For example, I suddenly find myself preoccupied, wondering what your mouth tastes like. Why do you suppose that is?”

  She leaned closer still, her lips mere inches from Tate’s while her fingers brushed Tate’s cheek. Warm. A feather touch that sent a shock wave through her.

  She stopped with their faces barely three inches apart and looked at Tate through nearly closed eyes. Hovering on the edge of temptation, Tate met her gaze and was filled with a slow, simmering awareness. Her heartbeat continued to pound, and she felt nearly overwhelmed by the sense of inevitability that came over her.

  Driven partly by instinct and partly by burning desire, Tate closed the remaining distance, bringing their lips together and filling with a stunning sense of absolute rightness.

  One taste and she was hooked.

  Tate had never been kissed like this. As if kissing her was all that mattered. As if nothing else and no one else existed.

  The closer she got, the closer she wanted to be, and finally, she gave herself up to it. They fit against each other perfectly, and she was slowly seduced by the commander’s mouth.

  A sweet moan of approval encouraged Evan, and she briefly deepened the kiss before drawing away. In that moment, something inside her changed. Something that had been previously dormant, as if waiting for this moment and this particular woman’s touch in order to awaken. Heat bloomed on her skin and in her blood.

  She had to force herself to breathe. She was keenly aware of her rapid heartbeat and her quickening breath. And because her hands began to tremble, she moved back slightly, creating the illusion of distance. She reached for her drink and finished it.

  Her lips still tingled where they had connected with those of this unknown woman. But she had chosen to let the kiss play out. Closing her eyes for just a moment, the sensation continued to wash over her. The redhead’s taste, unexpected yet familiar, rushed immediately to her head. She tasted like champagne and temptation.

  Intoxicated with the taste of her, the feel of her body, Evan leaned closer once again. Nipped at a tempting bottom lip, momentarily dragging it between her teeth. “I think we should leave now and continue this at your place,” she whispered, keeping her voice soft and intimate.

  “My place?” Moonlight reflected in clear green eyes as they opened with surprise. “Why my place as opposed to—oh, I don’t know—a hotel room? I mean, we are currently standing on a balcony in a five-star hotel.”

  “We can do that if it’s what you really want, but I get the distinct feeling you might feel more comfortable if you’re on familiar ground.”

  “Like at my place?”

  “Mm-hm. If we’re at your place, it puts you in control, and you can always kick me out if you decide you’ve made a terrible mistake inviting me in.”

  “And would I be…making a terrible mistake?”

  “No.”

  She cupped the delicate face in her palm. Kept her tone light. Casual. But when their eyes met, she found what she was feeling wasn’t quite so casual.

  “Please don’t break my heart by saying no,” Evan whispered and loaded her request with an irresistible challenge. “Please say yes.”

  “This is crazy,” Tate murmured.

  Even as she said the words, something sizzled in the air between them. Something told Tate that sex with this navy commander would not be a civilized affair. Instead, it would be hot and uninhibited. Mind-blowing and incredibly intense.

  For the first time in forever, she knew what it meant to want something. Something primal. Something forbidden and dangerous. And she badly wanted to acquiesce. “Did I mention it’s my birthday?”

  “Oh, that’s perfect. Happy birthday, beautiful lady. And all the more reason for you to go a little crazy with me. Let me be your birt
hday present. Let me fulfill all of your birthday wishes.”

  Tate chewed on her bottom lip and bit back a groan. “Shouldn’t I at least know your name?” she asked, skimming against her, aching for even closer contact.

  Everything changed in the span of a heartbeat.

  Tate had always considered herself quite good at judging people. But in that instant, she couldn’t read the curiously shuttered expression that suddenly crossed the beautiful face only inches from her own. Nor could she read the dark, smoky eyes. Uncertain what had just happened, she silently waited.

  “It’s Evan.”

  “Evan.” Tate tried it on, liked how it fit. She drew her lips nearer. “Is that a first name or a last name?”

  The smoky eyes appeared almost black. Evan’s nostrils flared and the pulse at the base of her throat appeared to go into overdrive. “Kane,” she whispered. “My name is Evan Kane.”

  The effect on Tate was nearly instantaneous. She froze with her lips less than an inch away from their intended target.

  Kane? Oh Jesus, please. Please say it isn’t so.

  A frown creased her brows and she bit her bottom lip. “I know this is going to sound ridiculous, and I’m probably going to hate myself for asking, but I think I need to know. By any chance, are you related to Althea Kane? As in Secretary of State Althea Kane?”

  Evan sighed. “She’s my mother.”

  Before Tate’s eyes, Evan Kane’s seductive mood visibly shattered and conflicting emotions flashed across her face, hot and quick. Her expression darkened, and for an instant, there was something in her eyes, but she looked down before Tate could tell what was going on.

  Even though she hadn’t actually moved, Tate could feel the tremor beneath her skin and knew she was losing her. Could almost see the barriers closing down around her. She expects me to walk away, she realized and wasn’t entirely surprised.

  Knowing Althea Kane was her mother, it was probably the right thing to do. It was certainly the smart thing to do.