The billionaire heiress licenced husband

On a bright September morning, Andrew Lawson raced toward his worst nightmare. With his toolkit thumping his thigh with one hand and his Stetson clutched to his head with the other, he crossed the driveway, kicking gravel in his wake. He raced toward the waiting helicopter in the pasture with a natural fluid grace and impressive strength from rigorous physical conditioning. His square jaw hardened, and determination shone through his jade-green eyes. He ducked beneath the spinning rotors and grabbed Michael James' strong hand, yanking him aboard just as the craft rose into the air. Andrew took off his hat, stowed his kit beneath his seat, slid his headset over his ears, and gazed down at the lilac Pony Ranch, which shrank beneath him as the chopper gained altitude. Jane, his three-year-old daughter, waved at him from the arms of Evenly Samson, the ranch's cook and godmother. His stomach tightened with fear as he remembered Jane, who had mischievous eyes green like his own and masses of white-blond curls, and whose plump face dimpled when she laughed, making even the toughest ranch hand smile. His stomach tightened with fear as he remembered Jane, who had mischievous eyes green like his own and masses of white-blond curls, and whose plump face dimpled when she laughed, making even the toughest ranch hand smile. There was no way he could mess up this job and not return home to her. Home. Their snug cabin at the lilac Pony Ranch was home now. He and Jane had left the rush and turmoil of country Y for the peace and quiet of country S secret service, but the lilac Pony was not as serene as it appeared on the surface. The helicopter banked toward the western mountain range and Jasmine, and Andrew gazed at the deceptive landscape beneath him. Still resembling its former incarnation as a dude resort, the main house over-looked the pasture they had taken off from. Beyond the pasture ran Crooked Creek, teeming with life, a fly fisherman's paradise. On the other side of the ranch house glistened the turquoise blue of the swimming pool, ringed with cabins, including the one where he and Jane lived. Farther from the house sat the massive barn and corrals, and behind them, archery and shooting ranges and a rodeo corral. A casual, even a close-at-hand observer could not discern the secret operations room, deep beneath the main house. Ostensibly a retirement and breeding ranch for horses, the ranch served as a cover and headquarters for the covert agents of Montana Confidential, founded by Michael James. Andrew glanced at Michael sitting grim-faced in the seat beside him. In his mid-forties with sun-bleached blond hair and brown eyes framed with laugh lines, Michael had the rugged good looks of a film star who becomes more handsome with age. But his boss was far more than an attractive face. Michael, a secret Confidential agent for over fifteen years, had organized the country's secret service group at the request of the Department of Public Safety. Their primary goal was to locate international terrorists who were believed to be operating within the country. Michael met Andrew's gaze. "Do you have everything you need?" his boss's rich voice inquired through the headset. Swallowing the panic that threatened to rise up his throat, Andrew nodded and tapped his kit with the heel of his boot. "I have got all my tools. I will have to borrow some protective gear from the local bomb squad." "You will do just fine." Michael nodded in encouragement, and the compassion in his dark brown eyes spoke volumes. Michael understood Andrew's situation better than the other agents because he knew the whole story. While the others remembered Andrew as the hero who saved the Beverly Hills Hotel from destruction three years ago, Michael was aware of the darker side of Andrew's past: today would be the first bomb Andrew would face since his partner on the C.S.I. bomb squad had been blown to pieces in front of him. In a habitual gesture, Andrew rubbed the crescent- shaped scar that intersected his left eyebrow and felt the old wounds tighten across his chest. Even if he lived to be a thousand years old, he would never forget that terrible day or be able to forgive himself. His hands trembled slightly, and he gripped his knees to conceal his anxiety. Others were now counting on him. Michael and his two new partners were among those seated in front of him. Frank Kelly piloted the helicopter with the confidence and skill of a career military pilot. He still suffered twinges from the injury to his right knee, but if he experienced any qualms about flying after being shot down over Lusnia, Andrew couldn't tell it from the skillful way Frank flew the helicopter. Only the slight tightening and flexing of his hands on the controls betrayed his tension. The helicopter, which was supposed to be at the ranch to patrol fences and herd livestock, was used today for its true purpose: rapid deployment of agents in emergency situations. "What's our ETA?" Daniel asked. Frank spoke into his microphone without taking his gaze away from the terrain below. "Fifteen minutes to Jasmine." "Getting close." Michael looked at Andrew. Andrew shrugged with nonchalance that he did not feel. "According to the capitol police, they cannot read the timer on the bomb. We don't know how long we have." "Let us hope we get there in time for you to do your thing, hotshot," Court Felix said from the copilot's seat. A few weeks earlier, Andrew would have taken Court's comment as sarcasm. Court, a member of the country's police department who had been assigned to the country's secret service against his wishes, expressed his reluctance to be present as soon as he arrived. However, after recently discovering he was a father and reuniting with his child's mother, he decided to stay in the Agency and leave the country's police force to join the C.S.I team. Like Frank, Court appeared unflappable, but Andrew knew better. Court's raw nerves were obvious from the tiny muscle ticking in his jaw. Nobody had any idea what they were getting themselves into. Or if they would make it out alive.