"I am the head of this medical unit," Wright said with controlled fury. "If anything unusual goes on here and I am not informed, I promise I will squash you like a bug. You could never qualify to be considered military, my friend, but that doesn't mean for one second that you are not vulnerable. If you wish to learn how vulnerable, simply let me find out that you have been withholding information about the president from me. I will see you at dinner."

Wright executed a perfect turn, opened the door, and had taken one step into the reception area when he stopped.

"Cromartie, what in the hell are you doing here?" he snapped.

"I . . . I'm the covering nurse tonight, sir," a woman's quavering voice replied. "Seven until midnight."

For several seconds there was only silence.

"Well," Wright said finally, "if anything Dr. Singleton and I just discussed gets back to me, you're the first one I am going to come looking for."

"Yes, sir. I mean the door was closed, sir. I mean I didn't hear very much."

"Civilians," Wright grumbled as the outer door opened and slammed shut.

Cromartie. The name meant nothing to Gabe, but there were still a number of unit nurses and physician's assistants and even a couple of doctors he had yet to meet.

"Well, come on in, Nurse Cromartie," he called out. "The Admiral Wright fan club is now in session."

Gabe heard a magazine being dropped onto the table, and moments later Alison Cromartie appeared in the doorway to his office.

CHAPTER 4

Radiant. The word filled Gabe's thoughts the instant he saw Alison Cromartie for the first time. Absolutely radiant. What Admiral Ellis Wright's starched whites did to light up a room Alison accomplished wearing nothing more imposing than a crisply tailored green pants suit—maybe jade green, Gabe decided—and a muted yellow top. No jewelry. And if she wore makeup at all, it was precious little and impeccably applied. Gabe flashed on his reaction to first meeting Cinnie in the hospital ER, when he vowed on the spot that this was the woman he was going to marry.

No such pledges here, but he did sense immediately that this was someone he was going to enjoy being around. Her looks were unusual and exotic—mixed nationalities of some sort, he guessed—with smooth, light mocha skin and a trim athlete's body. Her jet hair was cut short, and her face, dominated by dark, curious eyes, seemed ready to laugh at the slightest provocation. She shook his hand firmly and introduced herself, keeping her gaze fixed on him just long enough to express interest.

"From what I just heard out there," Gabe said, motioning her to the chair opposite his, "you're not an Admiral Wright appointee. Yet here you are."

"Here I am," she replied matter-of-factly.

"So, how'd you manage that?"