On the outside Shiloh Templar appears rigid as steel. But inside she’s fighting to keep everything together. Not only has she stepped into a minefield of controversy at work, she’s dealing with her father’s debilitating disease and a past in Seattle she wants to forget. Week one as the new director, she’s forced to cut staff. The smart-mouthed, much-too-young and sexy Nicholas Trent’s position is on the chopping block. Yet, rather than accepting his fate, the man blackmails her.

Nicolas Trent joined the Department of National Security solely for his mother’s benefit in an attempt to follow in his dead father’s footsteps. He never planned to stay. But when the company’s new director, a fiery red-head nicknamed Old Iron Maiden  makes it clear he’s not DNS material and will probably be released from duty, Nick has a change of heart. He’ll resort to any means to keep his job, even threatening to file a sexual harassment suit against the director for walking in on him in the men’s shower room while he’s naked. What he never dreamed of was the strong, undeniable attraction that could cost him what he’s held on to so tightly.

When a threat and two attempts on Shiloh’s life are made, the company insists she have an agent by her side. She’s forced to turn to the one man she thinks doesn’t belong at the department. Now, not only is she in danger of losing her life, after a night in his arms, she’s afraid of losing her heart.


Nick turned off the faucets and reached around the corner of the concrete shower stall for a towel. From the adjacent locker room a door closed. He assumed it was another agent coming in from their workout.

He’d just finished his three-mile run and weight training for the day, and after he dressed, he planned to head to the office to wait for the Iron Maiden to swing her axe. The confrontation was inevitable, and he was in no way looking forward to it.

His attempt to locate a towel on the bench where he usually put it, proved futile.

He vigorously shook his head, sending droplets of water splashing against the walls, then walked around the corner to grab one… and stopped dead in his tracks.

Standing directly in front of him, her spectacled eyes as big as dinner plates, was Director Templar.

Her mouth practically hung to the floor.

Nick froze. What the hell was she doing in the men’s shower room? And why didn’t she at least have the decency to turn away?

Her gaze dropped, then instantly snapped back up.

Nick grabbed a towel from a stack on a metal rack, and wrapped it around his waist, waiting for her to come out of the trance she appeared to be in. How could she have the balls to venture into the men’s shower room and not expect to come across a pair or two?

“Is there something you wanted?”

She blinked, then recovered her wits. “I––ah… I’ll wait out in the hall while you get dressed.” Swirling around, she rushed from the room, her black high heels loudly echoing her departure.

Nick walked over to his locker and opened the door, shaking his head. He didn’t know what just happened. But one thing he did know, the director had definitely checked out his privates, which weren’t exactly standing at attention after a shower. Her face had turned rosy red, indicating that she wasn’t used to confronting naked men––and with her cold, uncompromising demeanor, he could well believe that. Hell, she probably hadn’t been laid in years. The thought sent a charge of electricity through his system. A feeling he shied away from.

He thrust a leg into his boxer shorts, wondering what had brought her down to the basement in the first place. And, after the tongue-lashing she’d given him at the briefing, he never dreamed she’d be speechless.