Trusting the SEAL (Saving the SEALs Series Book 3) (12 page)

Spencer chuckled. “Way to date yourself, man. How about something from this century?”

“Shut up. I like that song.”

“And now I’ve got it stuck in my frigging head. Thanks, douchecanoe.” Gage pushed to his feet once more and took Anna’s hand. “C’mon, baby. Time for a new ear worm.”

He and Anna headed back to the jukebox while Spencer eyed Toni through his lashes.

“I need to call Brighton again.” Kyle walked back outside, phone in hand.

The low, sweet strains of an old Boz Scaggs song filtered through the air, the bittersweet lyrics asking love to look at what it had done to him.

The irony wasn’t lost on Spencer.

Scotty stood and held out his hand to Hayley. “It’s no Boot Scoot Boogie, but it’ll do.”

She laughed and followed him out onto the dance floor, where Gage and Anna were already swaying to the music, locked in a tight embrace.

That left him and Toni at the table, alone. He exhaled slow, started to say something then hesitated. This was harder than hitting a Taliban gunner at a thousand feet. He dug the toe of his combat boot into the sticky wooden floor and sighed.

“Listen, Spencer. I—” she said.

“Toni, I owe you an apolo—” he started to say, at the same time.

They both gave a small chuckle. Uncomfortable heat clawed its way up beneath the collar of his olive green T-shirt. “Sorry,” he said. “Ladies first.”

“No, no. You go ahead.” Toni tucked a lock of silky brown hair behind her ear. “Please.”

“Um, well. I was, uh…”
C’mon, dumbass. Spit it out.
“I just wanted to say I was sorry. You know, for how things went down there at the end.”

“I’m sorry too.” She gave a little shrug, her soft cheeks flushed with pink. “I was overwhelmed, I guess. I had a lot on my mind after what happened with my father.” She shook her head, her dark brows drawing together. “It’s funny. I’ve spent my whole life so focused on trying to get him to love me that I never realized there were so many great opportunities I was missing. So many great people.”

“Yeah?” he moved a little closer. No way would he ever smell roses again and not think of her. “Like who?”

She sat back, bringing their bodies within inches of each other. “Like Sheik Saaed and your team and…
you.
”

His pulse quickened.

“Me, huh?” the words squeaked out past his tight vocal cords.

“Yeah.” Slowly, she reached over and took his hand in hers. “After that day in the oasis, I knew I cared for you, Spencer. But these past few weeks have shown me just how much I want to be with you. Not a day’s gone by I haven’t wanted to hunt you down and tell you how I feel.”

He laced his fingers through hers then brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “I tried to get a hold of you too, sweetheart. Why didn’t you return my calls?”

“I don’t know. Fear, I guess.”

“You’re afraid of me?” He said, shocked.

“No. Not you. What I
feel
for you.” She gave a sad little smile. “I’ve spent my whole life loving one man who never loved me back. I don’t think I could bear to go through that again.”

Spencer turned her hand over and kissed her palm, then the inside of her wrist, right over her thudding pulse point, before bringing her hand to his cheek and smiling. “No worries there. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the night I walked out of that damned suite, Toni. I love you so much it hurts.”

“You do?” Tears glittered in her gorgeous eyes and he kissed her, soft and slow and deep, loving the minty taste of her lips, the silky softness of her skin, everything about her.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Thank God!” Gage yelled from the dance floor. “He’s been a royal pain in our asses since we got home. Maybe you can cheer him up, eh Toni?”

“I’ll do my best,” she giggled then kissed him again. “Want to dance?”

“I’m supposed to be the one to ask that, right?” He stood and held out his hand to her as his favorite sappy song started—
In Your Eyes
by Peter Gabriel. Yeah, it was old too, but so much better than Scotty’s countrified crap. He pulled Toni into his arms and they swayed to the beat, her front pressed against him and driving his need for her to new heights.

“You did okay for yourself there, buddy,” Gage said, as he and Anna drifted past. “Toni, welcome to the team.”

“Um, thanks,” she said, then glanced at Anna. “Do I want to be on the team?”

“Oh, yeah.” Anna laughed. “Right, Hayley?”

“What?” Hayley steered her and Scotty closer.

“Toni asked me if she wanted to be part of our team and I said yes.”

“Definitely.” Hayley grinned. “Forget the guys, we girls know how to party.”

“What do you mean, forget the guys?” Scotty said, looking totally affronted. “We’re the center of your existence, right?”

“In your dreams.” Hayley smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t forget who begged me to come back, who said he couldn’t live without me, who wanted to—”

Scotty silenced her with a kiss and Spencer snorted.

“Hope they don’t scare you off,” he said to Toni.

“Nah.” She grinned. “I’ve been shot at twice, received all kinds of threatening messages, and been mobbed by the press more times than I can count. I can handle you. Easy.”

“Yeah?” he pulled her closer and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. “Is that right?”

“Yep. That’s right.” She pulled him in for a kiss and neither one of them did any more talking until the music ended.

“You want another beer?” Spencer asked her as they returned to the table.

“No, thanks. I’m good. I have to get back to my office soon anyway.”

“More charity functions?” he asked, holding her chair for her before taking his seat beside her once more.

“Always.” She pulled Spencer’s arm around her shoulders and snuggled up against him as Kyle returned from outside, his expression a bit less dark than before.

“So.” Spencer asked his team leader while doing his best not to get too distracted by the feel of Toni’s lush curves pressed tight to his side. “What did Brighton say?”

“He said we need to catch the next plane to Tennessee. Kyle took a deep breath and looked around the table at each of them, smiling. “Who’s ready to catch some homegrown terrorists?”

“
S
ir
, I believe you’ll want to see this.”

Miles Arrieta gazed dispassionately out over the Pacific Ocean as his butler dropped a newspaper onto the small wicker table beside him. Unfortunately, he didn’t need to see the headline to know what it said. His contacts in the States had already informed him that Coran Williams had been taken into FBI custody.

The man would turn on him in a heartbeat. He’d known that from the start of this debacle and yet he’d still allowed the arrogant billionaire to think he’d outsmarted him. It had been worth it in the end, in order to gain access to his huge supply of funds. He snorted. Outsmart him? Honestly. The day Coran Williams or any of those SEAL idiots outsmarted him would be the day he died.

And Miles didn’t plan on kicking it any time soon.

“Thank you, Rogers,” he said, waiting until the butler departed before finally leaning over and picking up the paper.

Sure enough, it seemed cowardly Coran had cut himself a nice deal with the feds after those rogue SEALs had captured him in Jubail. The guy should’ve listened to Miles and taken them all out when he’d had the chance. But no. Coran Williams considered himself too much of a patriot to live with that much innocent blood on his hands.

Good thing Miles had no such aversions.

According to the article, Coran agreed to share his digital file tracking technology with the government to catch suspected terrorists like him and trap them.

Chuckling, Miles tossed the tabloid trash aside and shook his head. One man’s terrorist was another’s freedom fighter and he had no intention of being apprehended by Williams or the US government or anyone else for that matter.

Those SEALs though. They were going to be a problem.

He’d lost good men in that bomb blast at Williams Publishing and the fumbled kidnapping attempt by that burned-faced bastard Michael Becks. Then, during the recent skirmish with William’s daughter in Jubail, he’d lost even more.

Righteous fury boiled inside him like molten lava, ready to explode.

Those men. All his brave men would not die in vain. If there was one thing Miles couldn’t stand it was a bully. Like the United States itself had become in recent years. Oh, yes, they liked to pretend to be the good guys. All for one and one for all and all that bullshit. Until you got captured, as he’d been on that last, fateful intelligence mission for the CIA. They’d never checked on him, never offered any kind of deal to get him back—not once. Instead, they’d left him for dead, abandoned, tortured, alone…

Fuck ‘em. Fuck each and every one of those red-white-and-blue-bleeding assholes.

Because now he wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

And Miles wasn’t without a plan, either. One that involved a certain woman with ties to those same SEALs, who had foiled his plans in Jubail and skipped out on a certain meeting spot on the wrong side of Nashville.

Miles knocked back the rest of his one-hundred-year old scotch and stared out across the open deck of his seaside cabana to the deep turquoise waters beyond. They’d finally lifted the trade and travel sanctions on Cuba, making Havana his recent refuge of choice. Large and lawless enough to provide adequate shelter, yet small and close enough to the mainland to feel homey.

His hammock swayed gently in the salt-scented breeze and he tucked his arms behind his head, a fat cigar jutting from his lips. Yep, one day soon—sooner than any of those bastards expected—he’d be putting his plan into place and when he did, Coran Williams and the rest of the American-loving world would be getting exactly what they deserved.

Miles Arrieta would make sure of it.

B
lurb

He didn’t understand loyalty until she stripped it away…

Damian Stone was a distinguished member of the NYPD, on the fast-track to an FBI career until a crime syndicate ambush cost him his partner and his ambitions. Recruited by an elite security agency that leverages his hyper-protective instincts to shield notorious trial witnesses, Damian never met a charge he couldn’t safeguard.

Until her.

Alexa Volkov lived a privileged life, far from the messy underbelly of her father’s Russian mafia. As a crime boss daughter, she is in a unique position to collapse the organization from the inside out. Her plan to testify against the mob patriarch puts a bounty on her head that would tempt even the most trustworthy cop—especially one hell-bent on punishing her for the sins of her father.

But the safe house part of Damian’s protection plan is anything but safe. In a place where alliances are not what they seem and the most dangerous heat bearing down on them is the forbidden burn of seduction, the only thing more at risk than life is a lethal hit to the heart.

Download:
In Safe Hands (The Safe House Unit Series Book One)

Excerpt

Alexa Volkov sat in the living room’s bay window seat and pretended not to watch Damian move around the yard. Her protector was now dressed in oil-stained jeans and a distressed T-shirt, which wasn't distressing at all—not in the slightest. At least this ensemble had sleeves. She didn't think she could endure another covert glance at his morning jogging outfit without giving herself away completely.

She wanted him. Big time. She wanted Damian Stone, the man sworn to protect her—the sort of ex-cop she had avowed herself to hate—the same man who clearly harbored a deep abiding hatred for her family, and by extension, her.

But how else was she supposed to occupy herself? She was bored out of her skull. When she wasn't pacing anxiously or pretending to read one of three hundred and sixteen—yes, she had counted—true-crime novels crowding the shelves near the fireplace, she stared wistfully out at the lake and imagined what the fresh air felt like. She hadn't even been here a day and already she was going crazy. Distracting herself with thoughts of the only other person on the property seemed like a surefire way to keep the cabin fever at bay.

Or a surefire way to make it a hundred times worse.

Damian knelt near the edge of the yard, a hammer held loosely in one hand as he considered a broken fence post. Alexa raised her book once more, but memories of their earlier time together in the kitchen caused the words to swim right off the page in front of her.

She glanced up. Damian, who had been gazing back at the house, quickly preoccupied himself with his toolbox once more.

Hours passed. Alexa reorganized Damian’s beloved novel collection alphabetically by author’s last name and series, baked authentic kartoshka cake balls and sprinkled them with powdered sugar, and scoured the kitchen. By evening, Damian still hadn't come inside, not even for a bathroom break. She pawed through everything in her foreign-to-her wardrobe twice, trying it all on until she arrived at a blue summer dress she had glanced over her first time through. The fabric sported loud red flowers that resembled poppies. She normally didn't like patterns, but she tried it on anyway.

Her reflection in the mirror sent a slight tingle up her spine. What had seemed like a run-of-the-miss dress on the hanger looked completely different hugging her curves and draping breezily across her thighs. She turned to admire herself from behind, enjoying the way the open back plunged down further than she first thought. She imagined the expression on Damian Stone's indifferent face when he saw her.

The chess match just got a whole lot more colorful.

Download:
In Safe Hands (The Safe House Unit Series Book One)