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“Leave me the pistol instead.”

Tanner shook his head. “You don’t know the first thing about using—”

“I know how to shoot.” She looked at the pistol on his hip, then at him. “It’s a SIG-SAUER, right?”

He wondered if he looked as shocked as he felt.

“One of my brothers-in-law owns a high-tech security company. His wife had some problems with a stalker a couple of years ago, and then, last winter, my brother, Matteo, and his fiancée…” Alessandra stopped in midsentence. “It’s too long a story to go into. Let’s just say that this past summer the men in our family taught all us women how to shoot.”

She could shoot? This willowy blonde who led a life of ease knew her way around a gun? Tanner took the SIG-SAUER from its holster and handed it to her.

“What’s the first thing you do when you get hold of a pistol you’ve never seen before?”

She gave him a look that said he’d just insulted her intelligence. Then she slid back the magazine, popped it, checked for a chambered round, popped the magazine back in and sighted the gun, two-handed, at a distant tree. Her hands shook a little, but why wouldn’t they? The pistol damn near weighed what she did.

“Shall I fire?”

“No need,” he said, trying not to sound impressed.

She lowered the pistol.

“Satisfied that I know what I’m doing?”

He nodded. She’d handled the thing like a pro.

“Just be careful with it,” he said, because he had to say something.

“I will.”

He started towards the trees. Her voice called after him.

“Hey. Lieutenant?”

Sighing, he turned towards her. “Yeah?”

“One apology deserves another, right? So, here’s mine. I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time. About the name thing, you know… It’s just that—that the relationship between the general and me is—is difficult to explain, and—and—” She paused. “Was it really your choice to come after me?”

“Yes.”

“Because?”

“Because,” he said, with a shrug of those broad shoulders, “this is something I do. Something I’ve been trained to do.”

“You’re part of a search-and-rescue team?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“What are you then? I mean, I know I was wrong, saying you were the general’s lapdog.”

“Is there a reason you refer to General Wilde as the general instead of as your father?”

“Is there a reason you won’t tell me what you do in the army?”

He smiled. “Nice return.”

“I play a mean game of Ping-Pong. When we get home, I’ll take you on. Winner buys the loser dinner.”

“And the loser gets…?”