Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns all rights to the following characters. This story is intended only as artistic exercise and I am in no way profiting financially from it.

Warning: This story contains adult themes and language. Babe story.

Intentions of the Heart

Chapter 1: Living a Lie

Ranger ...

I sat staring out the windows of the hotel lounge, too lost in thought to really appreciate the breathtaking view of the city below. The skyline shimmered dramatically; dancing with the glittering neon lights of downtown Washington's nightlife.

I swirled the drink in my hand, sending the mint leaves spinning in the icy liquid and raised the glass to my lips; welcoming the tingle of mint and the slow burn of rum as it warmed my belly. The Mojito's familiar flavor washed over me like the comfort of home and my wary body eagerly indulged in the soothing sensation. I knew that I wouldn't find peace at the bottom of my glass, but I still hoped that the alcohol would take effect quickly; working its way through my system; mercifully clouding my thoughts and easing the tension that seemed to be gnawing a hole in my chest.

It was like slowly waking from a horrible nightmare; my mind frantically sifting through the foggy haze of illusion and reality. I spent three months in the underbelly of some Godforsaken country. Walking that unforgiving terrain was no better than scaling the fiery pits of Hell itself, a blazing inferno of blistering heat, punishing winds and scorching sun.

I took another long pull from my glass; desperate to drown the memories of that fucking wretched sandbox from my mind.

It took seven days to complete the debriefing process; the "suits" in D.C. clearly more concerned with covering their tracks than bringing home their own men left rotting in enemy soil. Fucking suits. Fucking traitors. How could they deny their fallen countrymen the honor they deserved? How could they not see that one soldier's life was far more valuable than ten of their worthless political puppets? Men, if they dared to call themselves that, groomed in the fine art of elegant speech and deception; nothing more than charismatic con-artists who preached of peace while ordering war.

I struggled to find myself in the days following a mission, to separate the man from the soldier and transition back into my civilian lifestyle; though, I merely exchanged the battle field for modern urban warfare. Each time I fought to reign in the monster, an alter ego so vicious and calculating that it had almost become its own separate entity; a hunter who tracked and killed without emotion or remorse, capable of committing the darkest of sins to eliminate the greatest of evils from the earth. I could only hope that the good that came from my actions would absolve me from the blood on my hands…

The barstool next to mine squealed across the glossy wood floor, the sound breaking through my reverie as a leggy blonde folded herself gracefully onto the seat. I avoided her predatory gaze, choosing instead to watch her in the reflection of the windows. Her gold, sequined dress glistened under the florescent lights, the dazzling fabric plunging dangerously deep into the valley of her breasts. She crossed her long legs seductively, the hem of her short dress riding up to the tops of her thighs as she brushed the pointed toe of her stiletto slowly up the length of my calf.

I wasn't shocked by her boldness. In fact I was surprised that it took her so long to approach me. She'd been all but devouring me with her gaze since she walked into the room an hour before. Perhaps she'd been so confident in her striking looks and compelling charm that she'd been merely bidding her time for me to take notice of her and inevitably make the first move. Little did she know that was never going to happen.

I took another sip from my glass and continued to ignore her presence. I'd met a thousand of her kind before; nothing but a gorgeous face, an empty, shameless beauty on the prowl for monetary gain and creature comforts. A woman so hardened by her past, so spoiled by her own vanity, so consumed with greed and entitlement that no amount of glitz and glamour could hide the ugliness that lurked beneath the mask.

Frustrated by my inattention she trailed her fingertips down my forearm to my hand, her breasts pressing against my bicep as she leaned in closely to me. "Hmm… tasty," she purred, her breath tickling the skin on my neck and sending goose bumps cascading down my spine. "I'll have whatever he's having," her words were meant for the bartender but her eyes never left my profile. She molded herself against my side, and I was wrapped in the delicious heat that radiated from her body.

Her scent was intoxicating; my senses bathed in the exotic mixture of floral and spice that was distinctly feminine and incredibly sexy. Her fingers lingered on my hand as she traced the rim of my wine glass with a single, perfectly manicured, blood-red nail.

My eyes followed the line of creamy, flawless skin up her arm, along her collarbone to the matching shade of red painting her full lips. She smiled wickedly as I finished my appraisal and ours eyes finally met, "See something you like?" she breathed, tracing her crimson lips with the tip of her tongue. I almost expected it to be forked the way she was twisted around me, eerily reminiscent of a snake coiling around its unsuspecting prey.

She was beautiful, stunning really … but she's wasn't enough. They never were anymore. Several years before then I would have pursued her advances, craving the high of losing myself in the satiny skin and heady warmth of a desirable woman; any desirable woman for that matter. They were all interchangeable, expendable… forgettable, but as I looked at her, my mind's eye subconsciously transformed her sleek golden locks into soft chestnut curls, her chocolate eyes seemed to melt into the most brilliant azure depths…

Stephanie

"I'm not interested," I responded bluntly, my tone clipped and harsher than intended, though I felt no remorse for my rudeness. I was in no mood to play her games. I was unaffected and unimpressed, and the temporary distraction she offered wasn't worth the guilt, no matter how unwarranted the feeling may have been.

I watched as her eyes narrowed and her smile faltered momentarily, stunned and confused by my blatant refusal. She was a woman who knew the power she held over men and my reaction was definitely not what she had anticipated. But something changed in her expression as she searched my face and a knowing smirk spread across her scarlet lips. "Relax, Handsome. I'm sure a man like you has a pretty little thing warming your bed at home. I'm only looking for one night, and you look like you could use the company." Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and her eyes darkened with lust and the thrill of an unexpected challenge. She thought I was teasing her…

"You're wasting your time."

She laughed; a husky, naughty sound that screamed of sex and sinful pleasure, "I can make you forget all about her. You'll never be with another woman again without thinking of me." She dropped her hand to my thigh, raking her fingernails towards my lap and making my stomach clench involuntarily.

I brushed her hand away and chuckled darkly, remembering a time when I had made a similar promise, not realizing that my threat was a double-edged sword, and that I too would share the consequences of that night.

And now … she owned me, heart and soul. Like a child's most prized possession, her name was etched into my very being; marking me, claiming me as her own. My entire being was dedicated to a woman who didn't even belong to me, but it didn't matter, my love and loyalty were hers alone. I had spoken the words that sent her into the arms of another man; a masochistic means of punishing myself for who I am, for what I've done, and for what I could never have. There were times that I cursed myself for the life that I had chosen, never realizing what I would have had to give up in the process. But I couldn't change the past, and I refused to plague her future with the demons that haunted me.

And yet I was utterly devoted to her, unwilling to betray the unspoken vows that my heart and soul had professed; a bond that transcended word or ceremony, a love destined to remain unrivaled … and unrequited.

"Trust me … there is nothing you can offer that would even compare."

I watched the woman's beautiful face twist into a jaded sneer, her lips pursing haughtily as she hissed, "You have no idea what I have to offer. But, tonight when you're all alone in your fancy hotel room, you'll be wondering exactly what you're missing." She slid from her chair in a huff, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder as she stormed towards the exit, the clicking of her heels echoing behind her as she fled the room.

"Unlikely," I muttered to myself. And, it was true. I knew exactly what I was missing and it had nothing to do with the shallow, vapid bitch that walked out the door.

I looked across the bar and spotted Sergeant Cooper watching the exchange in amusement, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Christ, Manoso, I haven't seen someone denied that ruthlessly since high school!" He tipped his head back and laughed drunkenly, wobbling slightly on his bar stool. The top two buttons of his wrinkled shirt were undone, the cuffs rolled up carelessly to mid-forearm. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his movements clumsy in his obviously inebriated state.

We'd served over a dozen missions together, each witnessing the toll that they taken on the other; though, we knew very little about one another outside of active duty, both men of few words, who guarded our private lives protectively.

I shrugged, unfazed by my callous rejection of the nameless woman. She wasn't the first, nor would she be the last to have her inflated ego wounded by my lack of interest.

"You should've invited me to the wedding, asshole," he chided loudly. "I'd have loved to have met the woman who could make any man turn down a smokin' piece of ass like that."

What the fuck? "No, I'm not-"

"Good for you, bro," he slurred, cutting me off mid-sentence. "If I hadn't been such a fucking coward then I'd be right there with ya." His mood soured quickly, the confession leaving a haunted look on his normally stoic face. He motioned for the bartender to refill his glass of whiskey, as if the dozen empty shot glasses that lined the bar in front of him weren't enough to quench his thirst. He lifted the glass shakily to his lips, the amber liquid drizzling sloppily down his chin as he drained the remainder of its contents.

"But, I let her go," he growled as he slammed the glass a little too roughly down onto the bar, "Biggest mistake of my life." He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, his hooded, blood-shot eyes meeting mine."I saw her a few days before we shipped out and I could see it, you know? I could see it in her eyes that she still loves me…"

I stared back at his anguished expression and searched for any trace of the fearless soldier I had known. But there was none, in that moment he was reduced to nothing more than a broken man making a drunken confession.

I looked away and shifted uncomfortably; the unbidden glimpse into his personal life felt perversely invasive and voyeuristic. I knew that the alcohol was to blame for loosening his usually silent tongue and that he would regret the conversation the next day, but before I could voice my thoughts he steam rolled on.

"I thought she'd find a better man; someone that she loves more than she ever loved me. I would have accepted that, hell I almost expected it to happen!

You know how it is, Manoso... Men like us… we've got a lot of fucking scars; too many skeletons, and because of that I never felt worthy of her. I didn't want her to waste her time on someone like me, but knowing that she still belongs to me while she shares her life with another man is just… unbearable."

The bartender frowned disapprovingly as Cooper signaled him for another round but wisely refilled his glass without a word. Cooper wasn't a man to take "no" for an answer and the bartender had enough self preservation to sense that. Cooper threw his head back and downed the shot, too drunk and numb to wince from the after burn.

"Lord knows I wanna kill the bastard who took her from me… but, Christ, he didn't even take her… I fucking gave her away! But still… the thought of him touching her, loving her… fuck it makes me wanna…" he grit his teeth and the dark look that flashed through his eyes was chilling. "But as much as I'd like to… I just can't do that to her. She doesn't deserve that. I chose this life and the choices I made forced her to take another path."

We sat in silence for a moment, each lost in our own miserable thoughts of love and loss. Cooper swayed on his seat and I almost wished he'd just pass out already and slip into the temporary nothingness that only drunken oblivion could provide. It would have been a relief for us both. I didn't want to hear anymore, his pain was too potent; his words hitting too close to home and opening bitter wounds of my own.

"She's pregnant," he choked, strangled with emotion and I could have sworn that his eyes misted over. "That bastard… he doesn't… I should have… It was supposed to me God damnit! MY wife, MY baby, MY FUCKING LIFE!"

His lips continued moving, but I couldn't hear his words. My ears were ringing, the room was spinning and I felt like the air had been sucked from my lungs. The thought of Stephanie, MY Babe, swollen with another man's child sent a wave of nausea crashing over me; a tangible connection, a part of her shared with him that would seal the bond between them forever. I swallowed the bile in my throat as my mind conjured images of their future, of their family and I couldn't suppress a growl as the Cop's face flitted through mind. His hand resting possessively on her rounded belly, a triumphant smile splitting his face as he raises her left hand and kisses the modest diamond nestled on her finger, her beautiful eyes staring up at him with trust and love…the look she once reserved for me…

I felt robbed and violated by the intrusive thoughts and was seized with a pain more intense than the worst form of torture I had ever known; a burning ache that time and distance had no power to heal.

My hands were shaking by the time Cooper's voice broke through my internal musings. "I congratulated her, told her that I was happy for her." He snorted in disgust, spitting the word like the filthy lie that it was. He eyed the cemetery of empty glasses, willing the liquid to spontaneously refill as the bartender feigned ignorance to his unspoken request. "What the hell did she expect me to say?" He threw his hands up in exasperation and shook his head in defeat.

"I didn't even see it coming before she slapped me, fucking screamed in my face in the middle of the street. How dare you say that to me? I have to live a lie for the rest of my life… settle for something… for someone I never wanted because you were too damn stubborn to let me make my own choices!"

I didn't even know what to say to her. How do I even respond to that? And, maybe she was right? I had convinced myself that it was for her own good; that my sacrifice was to protect her. But now … I'm not sure anymore. Maybe I pushed her away because I was a fucking coward? Maybe I was too afraid that she would find out who I really am, what I've done … and then walk away? Maybe I hurt her to protect myself?"

My heart clenched painfully as I was forced to come to terms with the truth behind my own actions; brought to my knees and stripped bare of my own feeble rationalizations. The overwhelming regret that weighed down upon me was suffocating and I struggled to catch my breath.

"And now it's like living with a ghost, man. Her clothes are in my closet, her pictures on my wall, everywhere I go, everything I see, reminds me of her. Her touch, her laugh, her scent … and as pathetic as it sounds, I can't bring myself to change a damn thing … it's all I have left."

I couldn't' help but stare as his face crumpled in agony, horrified yet morbidly fixated on the man before me; like the burning wreckage on the side of the road that you just can't peel your eyes away from. A bubbling panic boiled over inside of me, and I knew in that moment that I would do anything to escape his fate. I fumbled with my wallet, threw down a few bills onto the bar and rushed towards the exit.

I'd never been a religious man, I'd seen far too many evils in my life to be a true believer; but in that moment I sent up a silent prayer to any Deity who might show mercy to the lost, humbled sinner I'd become…

"Please… please don't let me be too late."

I didn't know what awaited me in Trenton but the possibilities were terrifying. Three months could have changed everything… nothing… hell, I didn't know what to expect. All I knew was that I had wasted far too much precious time and that I would fight for her, for us, with everything I had.