I started this about a month after I finished the first story, Under Pressure. I got maybe 4 chapters and some chapter and plot fragments into it before I dropped it and it sat, moldering, on my hard drive. It's been dragged back to life and reworked. But there are still some caveats. When I wrote the first story and then started this sequel, Ranger was still pretty much the man of mystery. We knew very little about him, except that he had an un-named daughter and ex-wife, a small office on Cameron Street, he'd been an Army Ranger, he did some morally gray things and he "used to everything." So forget what happened in every book past Book 8, for the purposes of this story. Different ex-wife, different daughter, different circumstances. Think of it as an AU of the book series after Book 8. I have it as rated T because I tend toward writing more "fade to black" implied than explicit stuff anymore. I wrote this primarily because I thought it was time for Stephanie to stop being the one who got kidnapped and go rescue someone else. So: now that we've gotten that lengthy explanation out of the way -


Pressure Cooker – The beginning

My first wedding was pretty much what everyone expected of a 'Burg wedding. Big dress, big hair, big production. Big scandal when it fell apart. My second wedding could never have happened in the 'Burg. I doubt anyone in the 'Burg ever even dreamed it.

It took place on the veranda of a private home in the islands just before sunset. The owners, two old friends of Ranger's, were away and we had the loan of the beautiful estate. I had told Ranger I was sorry not to have met his friends and he had just snorted, murmuring, "some things are best saved for later. Much later."

The groom entered from stage left, wearing a black suit, white silk shirt, black tie and black loafers. The bride entered from stage right, wearing a form-fitting, low cut, square-necked ivory sheath made out of raw silk and a crown of tiny ivory roses. The groom had given the bride a very old necklace and earring set of diamonds and cornflower blue sapphires, covering the "something old" and "something blue" categories nicely. The delicate earrings dangled in a long drop and the fiery small diamonds sparkled in the light.

Underneath the dress, in consideration of my husband-to-be, I was wearing the filmiest, sheerest ivory lace bra, panties and garters I could find. I was willing to predict that when he unzipped my wedding dress later, he'd be pleased with what he found under it. And if he was happy, he'd be sure I was happy. A good deal, all the way around.

The minister and two witnesses stood at the edge of the veranda, overlooking the sea and the sunset. We walked toward each other and met in front of the minister and stopped, facing each other.

His face was so serious it made me nervous. Was he re-thinking the whole idea of marrying me? I would if I were him. I was nervous, yes, but I wasn't having second thoughts. This felt completely right, just Ranger and me here, the two of us ready to make a formal commitment to each other. If my family had been here I would have had to keep my eye on my grandmother, worry about what my father was thinking and try to ignore my mother's wailing. My sister might have been wailing with her, too. Who knew about Val? I'd deal with all of them later. They would accept my marriage and learn to love my husband as much as I did. Or else.

I took what was supposed to be a deep, calming breath and studied the man I was about to marry. His hair was loose, falling just past his shoulders. The breeze lifted strands of it and I smiled to myself. His thick black hair was baby-fine and soft, and in the humidity of the islands, slightly wavy. I remembered the feel of it on my skin, like fine silk, and shivered in spite of the heat of the day. I was wearing heels but I still had to look up several inches to his face, up across the hard line of his jaw, past his firm, unsmiling lips, the sharp plane of his cheek. I looked into his eyes, finally, and saw that he had been watching me watch him. Women had a tendency to walk into walls and drop things when he smiled and I wasn't immune to his smile or his handsome face, either, but it had always been his eyes that suckered me in. He had complete control of his body language, his face and his voice – but I had discovered that his warm chocolate brown eyes were the key to his thoughts. And right now his thoughts were very pleasant. He might not be smiling, but he was pleased.

He took my hands in his and we turned to face the elderly minister and the kind old gentleman winked conspiratorially at me. Earlier the minister and I had had a private chat about some changes I wanted in the ceremony. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ranger's eyes slide from me to the minister and back to me, one eyebrow slightly raised, the corners of his lips turned up in a near-smile. I kept my own smile under control. He'd find out soon enough.

The minister began to speak in his lovely, island-accented voice, discussing the wonders and fringe benefits of marriage, the timber of his voice and the lilting accent making marriage sound like the biggest party ever thrown. I didn't expect married life to be a party, though certain parts of it were definitely going to be thrilling. I looked at the hands holding mine. Big, competent hands with long fingers, powerful yet capable of the most delicate touch. But scarred hands, too, the product of wars and battles and back alleys I probably couldn't even imagine. I moved my finger to stroke the largest scar. His past was his own, for good or bad, but his future was ours.

The minister paused, and his smile became even wider as he turned to Ranger. "Do you, Ricardo Carlos Alejandro Luis Alvarez Manoso take Stephanie Ellen Plum to be your wife? To love, respect and honor throughout your life together?"

I blinked at the length of Ranger's full name. Very impressive. All of those syllables as the minister rolled his rrr's in the right places. And I shivered again as Ranger spoke, agreeing to all those terms, his voice deep and firm. Then it was my turn to agree, and I was surprised to find my voice clear and firm, too. I looked up from the minister to Ranger and found him watching me again. I smiled at him and watched his smile start in his eyes.

He turned back to face the minister, listening to the phrases he was to repeat. About midway through he gave a shout of laughter and turned toward me, grinning, but he repeated the phrases without change. "Stephanie, with all of my heart I take you to be my wife, throughout our life together to be honest and faithful. I promise to answer all nosy questions as completely as I can. I pledge to give to you the same happiness you give to me, through all of our life together."

His grip on my hands, as I repeated the same phrases, without the comment about questions, was tight enough to be almost painful. He meant every word he said and he knew I meant them, too. We smiled at each other, a little lost in the moment, and the minister cleared his throat. We dutifully repeated more phrases after the minister, exchanging rings as eternal symbols of love and commitment – heavy, intricately-patterned bands, mine with sparkling diamonds and sapphires worked in as part of the pattern, his matte black.

Finally the minister stepped away from us and folded his hands. "You may now seal your commitment with a kiss."

Ranger turned toward me, smiling, and as the sun set, I saw the last rays of light reflect from my husband's eyes in a wicked gleam.

Oh, boy.


Pressure Cooker - Chapter 1

We were on our way home a few days later, in the same small private jet we'd left in, when my new husband sprang it on me. "I have to leave in two days."

"You what?" I'd been enjoying the plush leather seats, which were more like armchairs than airplane seats. There were only 8 seats in the main cabin, with a large office area behind it and then a cargo area in the rear, but that had me sitting up straight.

"Have to go out of town."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Don't know."

"Days, weeks, months, years?"

"Yes," he said, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. Before I could finish sucking in the breath required to speak, he held up a hand. "A week, maybe less. Hard to tell."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "So why did you rush me into this," I said, waving one hand around to indicate the interior of the plane, "if you knew you were going to be leaving town right away?"

He tilted his head and gave me a half-smile. He was back in his usual black clothing, a black t-shirt and black cargo pants. The last five days we'd been gone together he'd mostly worn more casual clothing, which, a lot of time, had meant very little clothing at all. Still mostly dark colors, though. "Because I wanted to. And because I know better than to give you time to overthink things."

"You thought I wouldn't marry you if I had time to think about it?"

"Let's just say I didn't want outside influences coming into play. But I knew once you were committed, you'd stick with it, out of stubbornness if nothing else." I raised my eyes to his, unsure if I was more angry or hurt. But I was definitely both. He reached up and stroked one finger across my cheek. "You want to please too many people, Babe. That can't happen. Lot of people will tell you this is a bad idea. That we are a bad idea."

I swallowed hard and tried to smile. "You said that once."

"So did you. And in some ways it's still true." He shrugged. "Comes a point where you have to make a decision. Stay the way you are or change. I chose change. I chose you." He leaned over and kissed me once, hard.

I blinked. "Where will you be going?" My voice sounded suspiciously thick, even to me.

"DC. Completing a job that's been in the planning stages for almost a year."

"Just DC," I said, "not... not somewhere else?"

"Only DC. Not in the field for this one."

"Do you do this often?"

He nodded. "Government jobs take a lot of background work. Tedious background work."

"Why do you take them?"

He tilted his head. "How many questions do you have?"

"Ranger, we're sitting on a plane. You can't get away, it's a perfect time to ask questions." I leaned over into him. "Besides, I get to ask questions now and you promised to answer, remember?"

That got me a short, hard, laugh. "Only the questions I can answer. But I do need to leave town and get this job over with. Tank will be going with me."

There was more, I knew it. "And?"

He turned to face me. "And I need you to do something for your safety while I am not with you." His face was serious as he gauged my reaction. "You agreed," he said, reminding me of my promise to him that I would do what he told me for my safety.

I had agreed. That didn't mean I had to like whatever he was about to say. "And?"

"I want you to have a temporary bodyguard. Tank will be with me, Bobby will be in the Boston office and Lester will be running Rangeman in Trenton and the contract crews here, but I have someone in mind I think will work well for you."

"Boston office? How many offices do you have?"

"Currently four – the original Miami office, Atlanta, Boston and Trenton."

It felt really strange to ask him questions and get immediate, direct answers. I'd file that away for later, but that left a more immediate, larger issue. "I don't want a bodyguard." If he wanted me to have a bodyguard, then he could do it.

"But you will do it." A flat statement, not a question.

I nodded. "Yes." I kicked the empty seat across from me. "Is there someone… after me again?"

He smiled. "Not that I know of. But I was not satisfied with the conclusion of the Brooks business. Too many loose ends left and I'd rather play it safe until I can have my eyes directly on you again."

There was a long silence between us and I could feel Ranger watching me, assessing me. "Ranger, I don't always understand the code you live by." I tightened my grip on his hand. "But I trust you. I just… I guess all of the security stuff makes me afraid for you. Afraid for us."

He tilted his head and considered me for a moment. "When I left the Rangers I was restless. Lived a little wilder than was wise. Was involved with some jobs that were extreme. The security that I live with – that we live with – is mostly fallout from that. In time it will lessen." At my relieved sigh, he spoke again, a little sharper. "But it will never go away, Steph. What we do now can be dangerous. You need to be aware, to be careful, especially now. You frequently attract trouble and what happened with Brooks will happen again. Someone, somewhere, will try to use you." Gently he tugged me toward him and I went with a sigh. He gave me a long, thorough kiss that left my heart pounding and my breathing uneven. "I will try to make sure that doesn't happen. I need you to do the same."

I sighed. "This has the feeling of a lecture I am going to get often. And, anyway, it is true that I attract trouble on my own." I gave him a quick sideways look through my lashes and saw that he was still watching me intently. I yawned a little, an obviously fake yawn. "I can think of better things to do than listen to lectures."

I got the small little smile from him, the tiny upturn at the corner of his lips. "What did you have in mind?"

I unbuckled my seat belt and straddled his lap. "Let me just show you." I reached down and yanked his seat belt tighter. "Be careful," I murmured. "Might be some turbulence ahead."

- 0 - - 0 - - 0 - - 0 - - 0 - - 0 -

The plane descended onto the small field at Trenton, and I could see a black SUV by the hangar as the plane taxied toward it, Tank and Lester standing beside the SUV. "Do they know?"

"About us?" He shook his head. "That was need-to-know info, given only to a few people. They only know that you were with me in St. Martin."

I shot him a look of utter disbelief and he smiled. "I know you said we were going to keep our marriage low profile, but this is ridiculous. Are you planning on telling anyone?"

He laughed again. So good to know I amused him. "Just a little payback, Babe, keeping them in the dark. I had planned to tell them this afternoon, before we go to your parents'." He bent down and unzipped one of the bags at his feet and withdrew a small semi-auto handgun and a belt clip. "We're in Trenton. Time to start carrying," he said.

"Already?"

"Part of the deal, Babe. It's a Sig 238 – small, lightweight, reliable, accurate. Fewer rounds than I would prefer and it doesn't have the stopping power of a 9mil, but that goes with the size."

I had agreed to the deal. I took it with a bit of reluctance and he watched me with a small, satisfied smile – just this side of a smirk - as I clipped it to the inside of the waistband of my jeans. I moved around, twisting and bending to see how it fit. Not too bad. I was aware that I had a lump of metal strapped to me, but I could live with this. "Do I have a permit for this?"

"You will when we hit the office. You'll need some range time with it, but I think it will work for you. We'll need to try a variety of holsters, too." He, of course, had already been armed, but he stopped to put on his backup weapons before exiting the plane.

I studied him a minute. "About my parents. My family. It… might not go well. At first, I mean. But, I swear, they will come around."

He grinned. "Think it will be an interesting evening."

I felt a quick stab of protectiveness. "Look, I know that they are, uh, maybe different, but I love my parents, Ranger. And even my grandmother and my sister and her children."

He picked up my hand and ran his thumb across the back of it and across my wedding ring. "Know that, Babe. It's clear how much they mean to you. And how much you mean to them, even if they don't understand you."

He was looking down at my hand. Since he wasn't looking directly at me, I worked up my courage, dropped my voice and asked, "What about your parents? Your family?"

"My family and I are not close." He hesitated. "I want you to meet my daughter. When I get back, we'll talk." I nodded my acceptance and he smiled.

"Sisters? Brothers?" I asked. "Let me guess, you are the oldest."

"Middle. Four sisters. I had an older brother. He joined the navy about the time I got sent to Miami to live with my grandmother."

"What happened to your brother?"

"Dead. Killed in action. That was his SEALs hat I gave you."

I blinked. "You gave me something that belonged to your brother? I'm sorry, I thought it was just a hat, and I'll ruin it. I wear it all the time. I'll stop."

"No," he said curtly. "Keep wearing it." As the plane stopped, he unlatched his seat belt and rose to his feet, pulling our bags out of the storage bins.

I did some more blinking, but this time I kept my mouth shut. I was touched, in a strange way. He viewed the hat as a talisman, as some kind of charm. Which, when I thought about it, was how I felt about it, too. I wore the hat when I needed reassurance, when I wanted to wrap myself in the kick-ass attitude that Ranger projected so well. But I had the man now, which was better than the hat. If Ranger was Mr. Badass, did that make me Mrs. Badass? I snorted.