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If I had to describe Nathan Raine in one word?

Roguish.

A loveable rogue, I have heard some people call him. Although, to me, he is simply an arrogant, infuriating, adventure seeking, adrenaline junky, fly by the seat of my pants, womanising, chauvinistic type of rogue.

With his icy blue eyes, mop of unruly black hair and constant five-o’clock shadow, Raine often finds himself under the attention of many amorous women, and he unabashedly thrives on it.

I hate him for that.

And for many other things.

Yet, he is now the closest thing I have to a friend in this world.

If I’m honest, I don’t really know a great deal about Nathan Raine, even though I rely on him to . . . well, to keep me alive.

Here’s what I do know.

A highly decorated member of the U.S. Special Forces, he was enlisted into the CIA’s paramilitary Special Operations Group, or SOG, early in his career.

Consisting of only the very best of America’s Special Forces personnel, Raine was considered the best among them, earning him the position of leader of the SOG’s flagship team, carrying out the most delicate operations in the name of national security and often answering only to the President of the United States.

It remains a mystery to me as to why this highly decorated individual resorted to treason, turning against his team-mates, apparently resulting in many of their deaths, and endangering the security of his country.

After being found guilty of treason, he escaped from Leavenworth maximum security military prison and has been on the run ever since.

My gut instinct?

From the day I met him, it screams at me not to trust him. And yet, he has saved my life more times than I can count. He has proven to be fiercely loyal (if you turn a blind eye to that whole treason thing!!); with a very strict set of personal morals. A code, I guess you could call it, by which he lives by.

And yet, he has saved my life more times than I can count. He has proven to be fiercely loyal (if you turn a blind eye to that whole treason thing!!); with a very strict set of personal morals. A code, I guess you could call it, which he lives by.

But he’s still a knob.

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