Perhaps not being the only woman in KGI had helped in that regard—though Swanny acknowledged that probably had little to do with it. Sky was her own person. She wouldn’t have needed P.J. to break ground for her. She could do plenty of groundbreaking and ass kicking all on her own. She and P.J. both, for that matter.

P.J. Rutherford . . . damn it, Coletrane now. He had to correct himself every time. She and Cole were married now but it was hard to start thinking of her as P.J. Coletrane. At any rate, P.J. was a kick-ass female warrior who could easily take down a man—or men—twice her size. Skylar wasn’t any less of a badass and none of the guys treated her like . . . well, a girl.

Like P.J., she was one of the guys. As he’d already mused, both women were more than capable of taking care of themselves, and more importantly, perfectly capable of backing up their male teammates. Swanny had no qualms about having Skylar—or P.J.—at his back. He trusted Sky with his life just as she trusted him with hers.

It was the way it worked in KGI. The chemistry had to be just right within each team in order for them to perform and function as a well-oiled machine. Their lives—and those of others—depended on that fact.

As they boarded, Swanny was contemplating Eden. Her image swam in his mind. Impossibly beautiful and sweet natured, and she had a heart of gold by all accounts. He used his phone to study up on her recent activities, curious about the woman her brother used to talk about so much. And where she was now in her career. If she’d been one of the world’s most beautiful women a couple of years ago, what about now? Had she changed?

But as he stared at recent photos, courtesy of Google, he realized that if anything she’d grown impossibly lovelier than ever. Lovelier. The word amused him. He couldn’t remember a time that word had ever been a part of his vocabulary, and he damn sure hadn’t ever used it in actual speech. And yet he couldn’t think of a more appropriate word. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Those were common. Tossed around with enthusiasm. But lovely? Somehow it seemed more elegant and timeless. Like her. Her kind of beauty never went out of style. She would have been beautiful in any time period.

He flipped through other shots of her: professional poses, advertisements and some that looked as though she’d been caught in an unguarded moment. Those were the ones he studied the closest, looking for clues, insight into her character. What was behind the makeup, glamour and glitz. Not that it made any difference if she was a chameleon, her smile forced and her good heart only visible in public. He’d do the job because that was what he was paid to do. Whether he liked or approved of a potential client didn’t mean shit if his team took the mission.

He couldn’t make up his mind about her. But then how could he, having not met her and formed an impression? He was huge on first impressions and gut instincts. They rarely failed him.

He skimmed through various articles, some legitimate news sites, others nothing more than online gossip rags. But they all had one thing in common. She read like she was utter perfection. Donating to charity, helping to raise funds for charitable organizations. She visited sick children in hospitals and donated her time to various good causes.

It was a rare thing indeed for there not to at least be speculation or even blatant made-up shit published for hype and to sell lies. His cursory read didn’t bring up a single negative thing about her. No secret pregnancies, drug use, crazy exes and for that matter no love interests. He frowned at that. A woman that beautiful or, rather, lovely would have no shortage of men trying to get in her pants. He was starting to wonder if the woman was a damn saint. He nearly snorted at the thought. No one was that perfect. Everyone had their faults. He wondered what hers were.

He wondered if everything he was reading was an extremely well put together and rigid public persona and what she was really like behind it all. Ryker would have him believe that Eden was everything the news reported and more, but he wasn’t exactly an unbiased party. But he’d never heard Ryker utter a single bad word about her. He grumbled about Raid, his older brother, and even his father, calling him a set-in-his-ways old fart who still liked to bark orders like a drill sergeant.

He knew that Ryker had lost his mother when he was young and that it had deeply affected them all but his father had taken it very hard. By all accounts, Eden was a replica of her mother. Ryker said that his father bragged when they were growing up that she too could have been a model but hadn’t wanted the spotlight. Her favorite place in the world was being at home taking care of her children and spending time with the family.

She’d been a military wife, and military wives were a very special breed of woman. They were often the unsung heroes when it came to service to their country. But they made sacrifices above and beyond what most women experienced in their lifetime.

When their husbands were away on a tour, they were at home by themselves, raising children, keeping the family intact and supporting their husbands. It took a special woman to unselfishly give up her husband for the protection of others. People those wives would never meet. People who would never be able to express their gratitude to the soldiers, much less to their wives.

Swanny had infinite respect for military wives just as he held deep regard for the Kelly wives and the team leaders’ wives. For all practical purposes, their husbands were still military even though they weren’t still enlisted.

But KGI could be called up on a mission as quickly as they had been today, and they dropped everything to take on a mission to protect or rescue others and the wives remained behind, never knowing if their husbands would come back. Yet they took it in stride and stayed strong. Resilient.

He glanced again at his phone, where a particularly stunning photo of Eden was staring back at him. It wasn’t a glam shot. She was laughing into the camera, down on one knee, her arms wrapped around a huge mastiff. Her eyes sparkled with happiness; her smile was wide and natural, displaying perfectly straight, ultrawhite teeth.

When Joe plopped down into the seat next to him, he quickly shut down the browser page where he’d been staring at the photo of Eden.

He was practically mooning over a woman he’d never even met, and she was so far out of his league it wasn’t even funny. She wouldn’t see him. Few people ever did. He was quiet and usually kept to himself. He let others on his team do the talking. Making sure the mission went off without a hitch was his job. As well as his teammates’. Doing his job didn’t require him to be verbose, and he liked it just fine that way.

And if people did see him . . . Well, the reactions were typical. Horror. Revulsion. Fear. And pity. He shook his head, knowing Eden would be no different than everyone else even if she had a heart the size of Texas.

She was surrounded by beautiful people. Wealthy people. People who were polished and refined. She was abreast of the latest fashion and Hollywood gossip, in all likelihood. And yet . . . her family, her immediate family were ex-military and a cop. Did they keep her grounded in reality? The image of a delicate beauty among three men who’d experienced the worst of humanity, had blood on their hands and honor in their hearts, was incongruous. A rose among thorns. Jesus. Now he was getting poetic.

Her career took her to places that were miles above the places he’d been to. Having wine in Paris at a swank cocktail party was a world away from being hunkered down on watch waiting for a five-second window of time to make a kill shot after going three straight days with no sleep, because if he lost focus, even for a tenth of a second, he might miss his opportunity.