Navy SEAL Captive (3 page)

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she said, holding on tightly as they sped away from the beach and hit a wave full-on. Water splashed up in her face before she could close her mouth. She swallowed some and choked, spitting salt water.

He slowed. “Are you okay?”

“Please, just go out to sea.” She clung to his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “Your life depends on it.”

“Okay.” He shook his head but twisted his hand on the throttle, heading out to sea, taking them farther and farther from the beach.

When they were a good quarter of a mile out, he slowed the vehicle to a stop and half turned to face her. “Now, do you mind telling me what the hell just happened?”

Jenna glanced back at the shore. “How far can a bullet travel?”

“What?” Sawyer stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. “Not that I'm not flattered, but what does that have to do with hijacking me and my WaveRunner?”

She wiped the salty water from her face and bit her lip. “You're not going to believe this.” Shaking her head, she tried to pull the words together in her mind before blurting them out.

“Believe what?” His scowl deepened. “Woman, you aren't making sense. And if you don't start talking, I'm heading back to shore before we run out of gas or the engine decides to quit. I'm pretty sure we're farther out than the attendant recommended.”

Jenna's heart thumped against her chest and her fingers dug into his waist. “Someone is going to try to kill you.”

For a long moment he stared down at her. “Is that your prediction? Are you a psychic or something?” His lips curled in a derisive smile. “Lady, I'm a SEAL. I get shot at on every mission.”

Jenna shook her head. “How can you believe me when I barely believe what I saw?” She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, grasping for the words. Then she straightened, firming her jaw. “I picked up the wrong suitcase in the lobby of my hotel. When I opened it, I found what I assume were the parts to assemble a sniper's rifle, complete with a scope.”

Sawyer snorted. “How do
you
know what a sniper's rifle looks like? Do you even own a gun?”

Her cheeks heated, and anger spiked inside her. “So, I don't own a gun, and I don't know exactly what a sniper's rifle looks like. But it's what was with the rifle that made me assume the owner was a sniper, hit man or assassin.”

With a chuckle, Sawyer ran a hand through his dark, wet hair, standing it on end. “Could it be you've been watching or reading too many thrillers lately?”

She smacked her palm against his arm. “Damn it, I'm trying to tell you that I found photographs and a note with the weapon. Your photographs. Pictures of you and a note telling the gun owner to bring you to wherever they were going to meet by nine o'clock tonight. Dead or alive.”

This time Sawyer sat still, his gaze pinning hers.

Jenna held steady, lifting her chin.

“How do I know you're not some nutcase desperate for male companionship and will come up with any cockamamie story to get one alone?”

Jenna let go of his waist and scooted back on the seat of the WaveRunner. “Is that what you think?” She slipped even farther back until she teetered on the edge, refusing to touch even one inch of the man's body. “Do you think I'm so desperate I'd chase a man out into the middle of the ocean just to get him alone?” She shook her head. “You know, I could have taken that case to hotel security and let them handle it.”

“Why didn't you?”

“It doesn't matter. It's your life on the line. Not mine. If you want to ignore the warning I've given you out of the sincerest desire to save your sorry carcass, you do that. I'll just get myself back to shore, because I'd rather swim a mile in shark-infested waters than ride back on a WaveRunner operated by a man with an ego the size of a whale.” She dived into the water before he could say anything or reach out and grab her.

Jenna struck out, headed for shore, weighed down by her beach wrap. She hadn't done much swimming since she'd been on the high school swim team, and she realized almost immediately that she didn't have the strength she once had. But sheer anger should fuel her long enough to make it back to shore.

She sure as hell wasn't going to ride with an arrogant, self-centered, stupid man who could be dead by morning because he thought she was a desperate crackpot.

The WaveRunner engine fired up behind her.

Jenna continued to swim freestyle, trying to remember how to time her breathing and making smooth, steady strokes, pacing herself so that she wouldn't get too tired too quickly.

Sawyer pulled up beside her. “Get on.”

She ignored him, choosing to breathe rather than waste her strength arguing.

Damn the man, but he kept pace with her, bobbing beside her on the water craft.

“I'm sorry,” Sawyer said. “I shouldn't have called you a desperate nutcase.”

It was a start, but he had a long way to go before she forgave him for saying all those nasty things to her. Jenna plowed through the buoyant salt water, one stroke at a time, refusing to acknowledge the man.

He sped up, pulling ahead of her.

Fine. Go back to shore.

Jenna would make it on her own. She didn't need a man to rescue her. The men in her life hadn't proven to be very reliable. Or at least her ex-fiancé hadn't. Sawyer, though not really a part of her life, wasn't much better. She'd done him a favor. Tried to save his sorry life. And what did she get in return? Grief. To hell with him. He could be shot for all she cared.

A splash ahead made her stop and tread water.

The WaveRunner seat was empty, and Sawyer was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Three

Jenna's pulse jumped and she spun in a circle, searching for him.

Had the assassin gunned him down?

She looked for the telltale sign of blood mixing with the ocean water but couldn't see any. Dragging in a deep breath, she dived beneath the surface in search of Sawyer's body.

Salt water stung her eyes before she'd swum four feet toward the WaveRunner. Jenna surfaced, blinking.

The water erupted, and Sawyer's face appeared in front of her.

Jenna started to scream, inhaled a gulp of ocean and coughed until tears streamed from her eyes and she sank below the water.

A strong arm wrapped around her middle and dragged her to the surface. “Are you all right?” Sawyer spun her to face him and pushed the sodden hanks of hair from her face.

“I thought you were dead,” she said, her voice hoarse from coughing.

He shook his head. “I'm okay. It's you I was worried about. It's too far for you to swim back, and there might be a riptide. I couldn't let you do it.”

She drew in a steadying breath and glared at him. “You could have been shot.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn't.”

“But you could have been.” She wiped tears from her eyes, pushed at his chest and swam away from him, using a breaststroke.

“I'm really sorry I didn't take you seriously,” Sawyer said, easily keeping pace.

Jenna nodded toward the watercraft, drifting farther and farther away from them. “You better go catch your ride before you lose it, too.”

“I'm not going to leave you out here. If I have to let the WaveRunner go, I will.” He stuck with her.

Jenna's conscience couldn't let him sacrifice an expensive machine for her. Besides, she was wasting time. The expense was the least of his worries. She stopped swimming and trod water. “Okay. But we need to bring it in at a different location. If you know you have a sniper gunning for you, you can't just present yourself as a target. I would have presumed they'd taught you that in SEAL training.”

Sawyer chuckled. “They did. I promise to bring it in to a different location.” He didn't make a move. “Are you coming with me?”

She glanced at the shore, admitting to herself, even if not aloud, that it was farther than she really had the strength or stamina to achieve. “Yes.”

“Can you make it to the WaveRunner? Or do you want to wait here and let me come back and pick you up?”

“I can swim,” she said, refusing to show any weakness to this man.

“Okay, then.” He struck out.

Jenna followed, barely able to keep up with his stronger strokes. By the time she reached the WaveRunner, Sawyer had climbed aboard and revved the engine.

When he reached out a hand, she took it.

With very little effort, he pulled her out of the water, and she settled on the machine behind him. Her arms aching, she wrapped them around his waist and held on while he set the watercraft on a path toward the shore, but not toward the resort where he'd entered the water. He aimed toward her resort hotel.

“I'm not sure this is a good idea, either. Apparently the gunman is staying at this hotel.”

“Well, where would you have me stop?”

She sighed. “You might as well stop here. You need to see for yourself what I'm talking about. But you can't stand still long. He could be targeting you as we speak.”

Sawyer pulled up on the sand and shut off the engine.

“We'd better get inside. It's not safe to be out in the open.” Jenna glanced at the sun starting its descent toward the horizon. “There are only a few hours until nine o'clock. If the gunman wants to make his deadline, he'll be coming after you.”

Jenna scanned the beach, searching beneath the umbrellas. Then she faced the multistoried hotels, looking for anyone positioned on a balcony, aiming a rifle at Sawyer.

“You'll have to come to my hotel room. I can show you the case, the gun and the note. Hell, you can have them, for that matter. I don't want the Mexican police to catch me in possession of a weapon.”

Sawyer frowned. “You say you mistook the case for yours. Where exactly is your case now?”

Jenna shook her head. “It was supposed to arrive by the time I got back from zip-lining. That's why I grabbed the one I found.”

“If you mistook the case with the gun for yours—” Sawyer's jaw tightened “—is it possible the gunman took your case instead?”

Jenna nodded. “I suppose it's possible.” She grabbed his arm and started toward the hotel. “The main thing right now is to get you out of rifle range.” She marched ahead, holding on to his arm until he brought her to an abrupt stop. Jenna faced him. “Do you have a death wish?”

Sawyer shook his head. “Sweetheart, you realize that if this man finds out he has the wrong case, he'll come looking for the right one.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Did you leave any identification on or inside your case?”

“Of course. How else was the airline going to know who it belonged to?” Jenna bit her lip, dread filling her belly. She'd been so concerned about warning Sawyer, she hadn't thought about herself.

Sawyer's glance shot left, right and forward as if he now was searching for the gunman. “You could be in as much danger as I'm supposed to be, if that gunman finds out where you're staying.”

“Then we'd better get back to my room before he finds his case.”

Sawyer shook his head. “I'm not so sure that's a good idea, either. He could already be there.”

Jenna's heart slipped to the pit of her belly. “We have to get there. Fast.”

“Why?”

“I have a roommate.”

“Isn't she the one Quentin is with right now?”

“Yes. But I don't know when she'll be back.” Jenna walked with purpose toward the hotel, digging her bare feet into the sand. Should the gunman come looking for his case... Holy hell...

Sawyer kept pace.

Jenna shot a glance toward Sawyer. “Shouldn't you be ducking your head or hiding your face?”

“I'll grab a hat in the hotel's gift shop on the way back to my hotel.” He held out his hand. “First let's get that case. Give me your key. I'll check your room.”

She dug the key out of her wrap pocket, amazed it hadn't floated out when she'd gone swimming. Slapping it into his palm, she stepped into the elevator.

Sawyer entered behind her, his finger hovering over the keypad. “What floor?”

“The top,” she said and cringed. The last thing she wanted to tell Sawyer was that she was staying in the bridal suite. Hell, he'd find out soon enough.

As the elevator rose, Sawyer pulled a cell phone out of a waterproof bag.

“I doubt the police will be of much help,” Jenna commented.

“I'm not calling the police. I'm texting my friend I left back on the beach to let him know where I left the WaveRunner.” He finished his text and hit Send.

When the elevator stopped at the top floor, Sawyer held out a hand, stopping Jenna from exiting. “Wait until I clear the hallway.”

“My room's at the end.” Jenna stood back, holding her finger on the door-open button while Sawyer disappeared down the corridor.

With her breath lodged in her throat, Jenna waited for Sawyer's signal.

It wasn't long before his voice echoed down the hallway. “What the hell?”

* * *

S
AWYER
HAD
MADE
a sweep of the hallway, checked the stairwell and tried the handles on the doors to the other penthouse suites. Each door had a fancy black placard with gold lettering naming the suite. When he'd come to the end of the corridor, he stopped and took a step backward.

“Seriously? You're staying in the bridal suite?”

Jenna left the safety of the elevator and joined him in front of the door. “It's a long story.”

“I'd love to hear it sometime.” He slid the key over the lock, and the light blinked green. “Soon.” Sawyer opened the door. “In the meantime, stay here.”

Again, he went ahead of her, stepping into the spacious living area with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. With the sun angling toward the horizon, the beach-goers had thinned, leaving a few couples walking hand in hand along the shoreline.

He didn't spend much time checking out the scenery. He was more concerned about who else might be occupying the room. Still not convinced he or Jenna had anything to worry about, he made a thorough sweep of the living area, bedroom, closets and bathroom. “All clear,” he called out and turned to find Jenna standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “You were supposed to wait.”

“Sorry. I can be impatient. It's one of my flaws. Along with being boring.” She left the doorway and crossed to the closet.

Sawyer followed. “I can see the impatience, but you don't really believe you're boring, do you?”

Jenna shrugged, her lips pressing into a thin line, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I don't know what to think about myself. I suppose I am boring.”

Clenching his fists, Sawyer wished he could punch the person who'd fed Jenna that line of bull. “You're repeating what your ex-fiancé said.”

“In so many words.” She slid the door back to reveal a gray hard-sided suitcase wedged onto the top shelf. Jenna pointed to it. “That's it. Proof I'm not a desperate female after your gorgeous body to save me from dying alone.”

He touched her arm.

She flinched away.

He wished he could take back what he'd said to her. He didn't need to add to her self-esteem issues. She had enough of those already. And as far as he could tell, she had no reason for them. With her long, dark ginger curls and bright green eyes, she was practically perfect, except for the frown denting her forehead. Sawyer wanted to brush his thumb across the lines. “I said I was sorry.” He gave her a crooked smile. “You don't let things go, do you?”

“Add that to my list of faults.” She backed away and let Sawyer pull the case off the shelf.

He carried it across to the bed and set it down. “I'll add that to your list of positive attributes. If this case holds what you say it does, I'm lucky that you don't give up easily.” He flicked the catches, and the case remained locked.

Jenna handed him a metal file. “Use this.”

She was not only beautiful, and anything but boring, but also smart and resourceful. He jammed the file into the locks and flipped them open one at a time.

Inside were neatly folded shirts and trousers. As he peered closer, he noticed the inside of the case wasn't as deep as the exterior indicated. He set the clothes to the side and looked again.

With a huff of impatience, Jenna reached around him and ran her finger along the inside. A partition popped up.

As he lifted the divider, his gut clenched. Just as Jenna had said, there were parts that would make a complete sniper's rifle with a military-grade scope, giving the shooter the capability of firing at long distances.

“This is what made me find you.” Jenna lifted the envelope and turned it upside down, shaking the contents out onto the bed.

Photographs of Sawyer fanned out on the comforter. Pictures of him walking on the streets of New Orleans when he'd spent a weekend there with his teammates, shots of him outside his apartment near Stennis in Mississippi, and even more of him when he'd last visited his father in DC three months ago. Whoever had been following him had been doing so for some time.

“I don't understand.” He shook his head. “Why me?”

“Darlin', if you don't know—” Jenna let out a short, hard laugh “—I can't help you. Have you pissed off someone in your past? Someone who would want revenge?”

He thought back on the missions he'd been a part of. The most recent sanctioned mission had to do with a terrorist training camp in Honduras. Surely the terrorists involved hadn't come all the way to Cancún and singled him out. Why not the rest of his team? He shuffled through the photographs.

Whoever the assassin was, Sawyer was his only target.

Sawyer drew in a deep breath and let it out, then glanced across at Jenna. “My father is a US senator. Not many people know, but this doesn't make sense. The note doesn't make sense.”

Jenna read it aloud. “‘Bring him to the agreed-upon location by 9:00 p.m. Dead or alive.'” She stared at the paper, her face pale, her eyes wide. “I don't know. Why would someone kill you and then deliver you somewhere?”

“Unless they're trying to make a statement.”

Her pretty brow furrowed. “What kind of statement?”

“Perhaps it's a drug cartel or terrorist organization picking off SEALs to show they can.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Whoever it is hired an assassin. He might get paid more if he delivers me alive.”

“Or he might just decide to take a lesser payoff because he's dealing with a highly trained SEAL. If he can pick you off at a distance, he has less of a chance of being taken down.”

Sawyer's lips quirked. “You're pretty smart.” He cupped her cheek and stared into her beautiful green eyes, wanting to do so much more. When he finally looked away, he dropped his hands to his sides. Settling the photos and note into the case, he closed it and let the locks click into place. Then he stared around the room as if for the first time. “Why the bridal suite?”

She turned and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. “It's a dumb story.”

“I still want to hear it.” He followed and stood behind her, watching her instead of the view. He liked what he saw: petite, yet strong; slim, yet curvy; smart and a bit sassy.

“I was engaged to a man who found my maid of honor more interesting than me.” She shrugged. “He texted me on our wedding day that he couldn't go through with the marriage.” She turned and waved her hand at the room. “The hotel was nonrefundable, so I came with a friend.” She lifted her chin and faced him, her eyes slightly narrowed as if daring him to laugh.