Adopted and taken under the wing of SWAT officer Justice MacGilvary when they were teens, Mick, Trey, and Craig learned the meaning of truth, integrity and a desire to protect the innocent. When Justice died in the line of duty, each man worked that much harder to carry on the lawman's SWAT traditions. Their affection for each other runs as deep as if they were blood brothers. Dace Banovic, another SWAT team member, is one of their close friends.
When these men encounter four very special women, they discover nuances within themselves they never expected. Capacity to love, strength in any storm, and heated passion more intense and thrilling than any dream.Within His Sight (Book One)
Dace Banovic Ex-Marine, SWAT Assault Team Member
Height: Over six feet
Hair: Black, military short
In walked her living, breathing definition of sex on a stick. The bane of her existence. The reason she needed to run and run fast.
Dace "Hard Man" Banovic.
She almost groaned. She didn't want to notice him, but she did anyway. Dace didn't swagger, but danger defined his walk, and confidence radiated from him. His muscular, rock-hard form held all these qualities, and he didn't have to say a word. Tall, dark, and handsome described him superficially. No, he was all of those things and none of them, a dichotomy of textures and uniqueness she'd find difficult to describe to anyone who asked. As he came closer, she drank in over six feet of broad-shouldered masculinity. His pitch-dark hair had started to thin at the temples, and this probably motivated him to keep it military short. This took nothing away from the striking symmetry of his nose and penetrating grey eyes. A scar, just noticeable above his right eyebrow, added a tough man look women seemed to find fascinating. As he headed toward Mary, she knew he'd seen her. She couldn't run from the law.
SWAT had come to take her away.
As he walked by tables, women looked up and admired, tossing glances at him and smiling. Of course they'd notice him. After all, he defines all those things the television psychologists harped about, doesn't he? Still, a woman should be able to restrict her responses, control her physical urges, by God.
A Peek at Dace's Qualities:
Mick MacGilvary SWAT Assistant Assault Team Leader
Hair: Black, short and wavy
As Mick left the mat, her gaze riveted on him. She would know Mick's familiar walk anywhere--commanding, self-assured, and with the slightest swagger. Mick laughed at something Trey said, and she noticed two other women not far from her staring at the men with clear interest.
She remembered his no-nonsense, see-through-to-the-heart gaze. He always had the most beautiful, burning eyes. Mick swung his attention toward her. For a minute, he looked shell-shocked, and her surprise kept her from moving forward to greet him. Seconds later, his face transformed into a soul-stirring gorgeous smile. Oh, yeah. A full-fledged, you're-the-only-one-for-me grin. She sucked in a breath as he walked toward her and Trey followed.
I'm in such trouble. Such trouble.
Her legs didn't feel quite stable. She thought she recognized more than one emotion in Mick's eyes. Maybe curiosity-but also a smoldering warmth that sent her female corpuscles into immediate meltdown. The brothers made quite a pair, and a woman would have to be half-dead not to tingle in all the right places just watching them. A wild flush heated her face as she imagined serving as the filling for their testosterone sandwich. She finally found her nerve and left the bleachers to meet them.
Mick strode toward her with purpose. "Celeste? Is that you?"
Hearing her name on his lips and the warm, slightly rough sound of his voice... well, it did more funny things to her equilibrium. Her super-confident, extroverted best friend Leigh wouldn't hesitate to greet these men head on, but Celeste felt a bit nervous. She decided to tread water and see how to approach.
"Hi Mick. It's me."
When Mick reached her, he slipped his arms around her waist and hugged her close. "God, Celeste. It's been so long. I thought dufus over there managed to get me in the head and I was seeing things. I didn't know you were coming."
Happiness mixed with enjoyment as she snuggled into his embrace. So much for worrying he didn't want to talk to her.
His six-foot-three frame made her five-foot-five feel petite. Well-developed arms clasped her to chest, hips and thighs, and every other inch of his unyielding body. Celeste slipped her arms around his neck and held on like a lifeline. He felt wonderful. Big. Hot. Solid and dependable. He smelled like hot man mixed with sweat.
A Peek at Mick's Qualities:
Trey MacGilvary SWAT Sniper
Hair: Milk chocolate brown hair with red highlights
Eyes: Whisky brown
She jumped about a foot as Trey walked toward her through the darkness. Momentary panic leapt into her throat--after all, he was a man. A big, strong man and-
She held the water bottle to her chest as she watched him ease through the moonlight. She grappled for the light switch and snapped it on.
Illuminated, Trey represented a clear sexual threat. Her gaze darted up and down his body. His wide shoulders, powerful arms, and impressive chest took her breath away. A sprinkling of dark hair covered his molded pectorals, and skated down a six-pack stomach and disappeared into... open jeans. Yep, the button on his jeans hung open, but thank God they were zipped.
Trey's gaze pinpointed her like a laser, and those eyes heated as he started at her head and slipped downward with thorough assessment.
Oh, bugger. I should have worn something old and ratty.
Instead she'd forgotten she had a guest and had jumped into her usual nightwear, a silky sleeveless nightie that cupped her breasts and only came down to the tops of her thighs.
I might as well be naked.
She crossed one foot over the other, aware of the cold floor and her vulnerability.
"Everything all right?" He hesitated at the kitchen entrance as if he worried he might spook her.
Too late, he already had.
A Peek at Trey's Qualities:
Craig MacGilvary SWAT Assault Team Member
Hair: Blond. Receding hairline. Wears his hair military short.
As Craig tended to her wound, she noticed the gathering crowd. She peppered Craig with questions. "What is going on? Why did that jackass shoot at me? Have I made enemies I don't know about?"
He explained about Delilah's old boyfriend having a grudge and shooting her new boyfriend near Delilah's house. "That's all I know."
"Oh, God. I should call her. She's all right isn't she?"
"Don't know. Hold still while I finish this and then you can call her."
Backup came in the form of a city police cruiser with two cops. Craig relayed what happened at the scene while the city officers asked her questions and took her report.
"How did you happen to be so close?" she asked Craig when the police started taping off the area.
Craig stared at her with his trademark intense look. A little over six feet tall, he commanded respect. His military-short golden blond hair receded a bit at the hairline. With a nicely cut nose, firm jaw line, and looks too rough-hewn to qualify as handsome, Craig possessed a masculinity that screamed don't mess with me loud and clear. His wide shoulders, muscled arms, and trim waist made the short-sleeved brown uniform look as if it was tailor made for him.
He shrugged, hands on hips and firm cop face in place. "I was headed through town and heard the call." For a split second his expression softened, his eyes meeting hers with a clear, unguarded sincerity. For a fleeting moment his professional exterior disappeared and she thought she saw real panic on his face. "When I thought you might be in danger I--" He cleared his throat and his composure returned. "I happened to be nearby."
Amazement blossomed inside her. He spent most of their infrequent social encounters making sure he could escape as soon as possible. He always seemed to be running away. The fact that he'd run toward danger for her blew Leigh away.
Nah. Craig MacGilvary barely stands the sight of me. He was doing his job, nothing more. He would have done the same for anyone. What's the motto? To protect and serve? He's seen many people injured and shot. I must have imagined it.
"Well, thank you." She didn't know what else to say.
Not that she had much more of a chance, because the ambulance drove up. Though she felt like a dweeb, she allowed the paramedics to check her out. She half expected Craig to disappear, but like a sentinel he hovered, disapproving and glowering, in the background but not far away.
A Peek at Craig's Qualities: