On the run, in each other’s arms, with one last chance to survive.
A rugged Navy SEAL, Zane Scott was part of a failed mission to rescue Dr. Olivia Strohm from abduction by the terrorist group Dead Man’s Hand (DMH)—and her anguished screams have haunted him ever since. So when he gets word that the beautiful physician has escaped from her captors in Africa, he’s got personal reasons to storm the continent and save her.
Like her would-be liberator, Olivia carries the burden of a dark secret from her past. Ruthless and relentless, the DMH has threatened to hunt her down – and to systematically hurt anyone she’s close to. The last thing she wants is to be rescued—even by someone as shockingly handsome as Zane. Yet the hot-headed special ops hero has come for her, and together she and Zane just might have a shot at not only stopping DMH’s reign of terror, but also saving what’s left of their souls.
Also see book one.
“Red-hot romance. White-knuckle suspense. True-blue military heroes who will leave you breathless. Stephanie Tyler writes with a rare blend of grace and power that will keep you coming back for more. Absolutely fantastic, and not-to-be-missed.”
~ New York Times Bestselling Author Lara Adrian
(posted 3.05.10)
“Dr. Strohm? Olivia?” The voice was deep and dark, washed over her like a sudden rain.
He knew her. But she’d never seen him before in her life—she would’ve remembered. “What do you want?”
He came closer, through the tangle of bushes and up the small red dust path to the house she’d taken over. She’d moved in, swept it out and cleaned it as best she could. It didn’t matter what it looked like. It was temporary.
Everything about her life now was temporary. “Who are you?”
“I’m Zane Scott. A friend of Skylar’s.”
Sklyar. Her former patient. Her friend. One of the reasons she was in this mess to begin with, and yet she felt no malice toward the woman. Only the hot stab of fear at being found. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to help you.”
There was a calm in his voice that nearly mesmerized her. He’d gotten close now, was in front of her and had extended his hand toward her. When she glanced down, she saw that she was actually holding out her free hand as well.
She pushed it down by her side again.
“Has anyone else come here tonight?” he asked.
“No, you’re the only one.” Her voice came out more softly than she’d intended. Fear, she told herself. Nothing to do with the contact with someone who might be from her not so distant past.
The wind rustled the bushes again, and when Zane turned to check that no one was behind him, she struck, surprised him with a blow to the side of the head. He sank to the ground with a heavy thump and her heart beat wildly because she had no plan. There was nowhere for her to go tonight. No, she’d have to wait until morning to leave, to escape this seemingly well- meaning
man.
Which meant she’d have to keep him with her.
Zane Scott was tall—over six-foot-three—and heavy with muscle, although he wasn’t overly broad when he’d stood in front of her. No, he was just right.
It took all her strength to get him inside the door and close it behind them. She stood, panting, realized that she’d only been here for three weeks.
How had she been found?
Trouble comes in pairs, Ama used to say. A warning for Olivia that just because one bad thing had happened, she was not to let her guard down against the possibility of more.
That was rare. Even her sleep was broken and uneasy. Dreams replaced by nightmares. If she could physically do so, she’d stay awake all night, every night. As it was, the few hours cost her. Her hands shook and her focus was off.
Good thing the medicine she practiced here was battlefield, because oftentimes, it wasn’t pretty.
Zane was wearing green jungle print camouflage. Military. He appeared to be alone, but he wasn’t the only one who knew where she was—he could have reinforcements that would come to help him.
Has anyone else come here tonight?
She rifled through his pockets, bypassing the weapons, until she pulled out a roll of money. A further search yielded nothing—no dog tags, nothing that would identify him as military beyond his clothing and weapons, nothing that told her anything... until she checked the pocket by his thigh.
A note, written by Skylar. Zane is one of the good guys. Trust him, she’d written, but for all Olivia knew, it was penned under duress. Yet it was written on Skylar’s personal stationary, and she recognized the signature, since Skylar had signed all of her books personally for Olivia.
Behind the note was a photograph—well worn and instantly recognizable. It was from her apartment back home in New York. It was a picture of her and her mom, taken in Central Park. She’d been laughing. If she turned the picture over, she’d see the handwritten note from her father.
Zane really was here looking for her. And something in addition to Skylar’s letter told her that he wasn’t DMH. No, those men would not talk to her the way he had. They would just take her, like they’d done before.
Zane stirred and she froze. But he only woke for a second, just long enough to open his eyes and stare at her. He murmured, “Beautiful”, and passed out again.
The only mirror she’d seen in the past months was a small piece of glass that had remained in the frame, long after the rest of the oval piece was shattered.
She wondered if maybe she’d hit him harder than she thought. Because beautiful was not how she felt. Ragged, but not beautiful.
She no longer resembled this picture... couldn’t recognize herself no matter how hard she stared.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember.
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an excerpt... 
