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  As far as she'd come, Juliet was still subject to the occasional severe headache, not to mention inexplicable emotional swings. Jeremiah had been teaching her the art of meditation, which was helping tremendously.

  "Besides, I like hanging out with my family," she added. She and her niece had become best buds. And Faith, her newfound grandmother, who had relocated to the area from Arlington, had proven to be wonderful company. Whether the SEALs of Echo Platoon were away on assignment or not, all three generations of women got together every Sunday for supper.

  Tristan rubbed her back. "You do whatever makes you happy, honey," he encouraged. "I think you've earned it."

  Juliet smiled at him, and for a moment they walked in silence, their sneakers striking the planks of the boardwalk in unison.

  "We need to get Hack and Hilary back together," Tristan added. "He's turning into a recluse, worse than ever."

  Juliet grimaced. "That's his own fault. It's not like Hilary blamed him for telling you everything. If you hadn't shown up when you had..." I'd be dead. Juliet silently finished, then recalled with a shudder what the future would have been like for Emma and Sammy. "For whatever reason, he refused to talk to her after that."

  "The thing is," Tristan sought to explain, "Hack processes things differently than most. For him, the world is black and white. He made a promise. He broke it. According to his own high standards, he doesn't deserve Hilary's forgiveness."

  "Well, his stupid standards broke her heart. She really liked him, you know? Of course, she changed her cell phone number, and now he can't call her even if he wants to."

  Tristan made a thoughtful sound in his throat. "Maybe we can think of a way to throw them together."

  Juliet balked at the idea. "I feel like meddling at this point would just cause her more pain. If they're meant to be together, fate will find a way."

  "Like it did for us?" he prompted.

  "Exactly." Sudden doubt followed on the heels of her own assertion. Turning her head, she searched his profile for any sign of regret. "Are you sure you want to be with me, Tristan?" She'd wondered more than once if he regretted having a cognitively challenged girlfriend.

  Her anxious question brought him to a sudden halt. Stopping her with one hand, he backed her up against the boardwalk's railing and put his arms around her. A chilly breeze buffeted them as they stood there, the wind whipping her ponytail. Rays of sunlight warmed a spot between her shoulder blades, reminding her of how she had felt when her mother's spirit embraced her.

  "I'm sure." Tristan chose his words with care. "In fact, there is only one thing in the world that could make me happier than I am right now."

  Gazing up into his earnest blue gaze, she wondered where he was going with this, or if he was even serious. He never did miss an opportunity to tease her. "What's that?" she asked.

  Tristan kept her guessing as he unzipped a pocket on the side of his sweat jacket. He pulled out a velvet box, precisely the right size to hold a ring.

  Gaze riveted on the box, Juliet's heart began to pound. The sound of waves crashing onto the nearby shore merged with the sudden buzzing in her ears. Prying the box open, he revealed a sparkling diamond solitaire that made her gasp with giddy delight.

  "I was going to wait until our dinner tonight," he told her, smiling sheepishly. "But this feels more spontaneous. Besides, I can't wait another second to ask you. Will you marry me, Juliet—not right away if you want to wait," he amended, "because I can tell I just shocked the hell out of you, but one day? Soon? Please?"

  "Tristan." It was all she could do to say his name.

  Uncertainty usurped his usual confidence. She watched him swallow as he waited for her reply.

  Tristan's nervousness was so endearing that Juliet rolled up onto her toes to comfort him with a kiss. His arms tightened around her, keeping her pressed against his thudding heart.

  "Is that a yes or a no?" he asked when she pulled back to verbalize her answer.

  There was never any question. From the moment Juliet had returned to her body, her fear of commitment was gone. She'd known she would be with Tristan forever. "Hooyah, Golden Boy. Hell, yes, I will marry you."

  Relief blazed in Tristan's eyes. Plucking the bejeweled band from the box, he seized her left hand and worked it up her ring finger. When he looked at her again, tears of joy shone in his eyes reflecting the sunlight. He caught Juliet's jaw with a gentle hand and sealed her answer with a kiss.

  "Hooyah," he echoed on a note of immense satisfaction.

  The End

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  Continue on for an excerpt from

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  The Echo Platoon Series

  Book Five

  ~

  Behind Katrina’s Ferrer’s closed eyelids, the lights of the nightclub seemed to whirl. To keep herself from toppling off her stool, she coiled her arms around Mike Thoreau’s powerful neck and surrendered to the headiest kiss she’d ever enjoyed.

  Quina llàstima, what a shame, that American tourist would be leaving Barcelona in two days’ time.

  With an audible groan, he lifted his lips from hers. "Damn," he muttered.

  "What’s wrong?" Focusing her gaze on his delectable lips, she willed him to kiss her again.

  "Nothing. Everything," he amended with a rueful smile. "You’re beautiful," he added, betraying his desire for her. "I wish—" He cut himself off with a shake of his head.

  "You wish we’d met under different circumstances?" She hoped she wasn’t revealing too much of her own thoughts.

  He searched her expression with laser blue eyes. "Yeah."

  "I don’t usually behave this way," she felt compelled to tell him. The first rays of sobriety were casting light onto her inebriation, and her behavior. She didn’t want him concluding she was in the habit of letting virtual strangers kiss her, let alone one of the guests at her family-owned hotel.

  Cupping her jaw in his large hand, he caressed the cleft in her chin with the pad of his thumb, moving higher to brush it over the fullness of her lower lip. "I already guessed as much."

  Katrina’s stomach clenched with desire. His light touch enthralled her.

  "I could look at you all night," he said, his gruff voice scarcely audible over the hypnotic pulse of techno music.

  His confession and the sincerity behind it snared her in a web of longing. She’d never felt so swept away by a man before. The feeling made her want to abandon her rigid code of ethics—the same code that had caused Armando, her ex-boyfriend, to break up with her in search of more inhibited women. She could see Armando out of the corner of her eye, observing them from across the nightclub’s dance floor.

  "Your brother upset you today."

  The reminder of Jordi’s awful secret abruptly cleared Katrina’s passionate haze. She averted her face, removing herself from Mike’s light touch to keep him from reading her distress. With a deep breath, she filled her lungs with the smell of reality—of sweaty bodies and stale, spilled beer. The horror of what was to come cast her present contentment into a selfish light.

  "I’m sorry. I have to go home now." She started to clamber off the stool only to find her progress impeded as a large hand closed around her wrist. Without exerting an ounce of force, Mike’s grip conveyed resolve.

  "I’ll take you," he offered.

  Seeing his two battle-ready companions, Chuck and Austin, busy dancing with a pair of brunettes, she shook her head. "No, no. Have fun with your friends. I can find my way
back."

  He sent her an admonishing look and ignored her protest. Transferring his hand to her elbow, he steered her toward the exit, at the same time emitting a sharp whistle that rang in her ears and garnered his friends’ attention. As they looked over, Mike gestured with his head that he was leaving. Heat flooded Katrina’s face as both slid knowing looks at her. She glanced helplessly at Armando, who stood by the bar, glowering. In light of her and Mike’s public kiss, who wouldn’t assume they were hurrying out of the club so they could sleep together?

  It doesn’t matter what Armando thinks. Katrina shoved her ex-boyfriend from her thoughts. At the same time, temptation whispered, Why not do it, if everyone thinks you did?

  Slanting a considering glance at Michael as he pushed the heavy door open for her, her heart proceeded to beat erratically. The cool air greeting them wafted over her suddenly sensitive skin. When he caught up her hand in his, she was struck by how small she felt falling into step alongside him as he turned them in the direction of Hotel Leonardo.

  His gaze met hers. "You’re safe with me, you know."

  Despite their brief time together, she had already sensed that much. Unlike Armando, Michael Thoreau appeared to be a gentleman, a cavaller. What surprised her was her desire to reward his integrity with a night he would never forget.

  Don’t do it, lectured the voice of reason. He’ll be gone in two days. You’ll never see him again.

  More reason to sieze the moment, the romantic within her argued.

  Seriously? A one night stand? You’re just hoping to forget what Jordi told you earlier.

  Damn right she was. The accusation struck home. For the next few hours, she could lose herself in Mike Thoreau’s embrace and forget the impending horror of what was about to happen. But would she?

  ~

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  Marliss Melton is the author of over fifteen counterterrorist/romantic suspense stories. She relies on her experience as a former military spouse and on her many contacts in the Spec Ops and Intelligence communities to pen realistic and heartfelt stories about America's elite warriors and fearless agency heroes. Daughter of a U.S. foreign officer, Melton grew up in various countries overseas. Exposure to other languages led to teaching high-school Spanish as well as linguistics at her alma mater, the College of William and Mary. She resides in Williamsburg, Virginia, with her youngest child and two dogs, one hour from the east coast SEAL Teams who have inspired so many of her stories.