A SEAL Never Quits

by Holly Castillo

  His team was in place. All they needed now was a mission.

  * * *

  It was dark and the team had turned in for the night when Stryker began his walk-through. Besides the kitchen and the living room, there was a sizable dining room with a table that could hold up to twelve people. Terra-cotta tile covered the floor from the kitchen to the dining room, and the colors on the wall were similar to an old Spanish kitchen, with the rock and the wood combined in such a way that Stryker felt he had stepped back in time two hundred years—a very relaxing feeling. It was exactly as he had pictured it would turn out.

  As he wandered farther, he came across a game and media room with another giant TV, a pool table, and a foosball table. It was clear how much thought had been put into making this a relaxing and fun location for his men. He wanted them to be able to unwind after a difficult mission, and they could either do it with games and fun in the ranch house, or by checking the fences and working the fields with the cattle.

  The area he had been walking was one giant circle, with corridors leading into different wings. When he’d first arrived during the restoration project, he’d discovered those wings led to spacious bedrooms—more than the six he had originally requested. It was obvious this covert operation had different mission parameters than his SEALs were used to.

  He climbed the stairs to the second floor and found a few more large bedrooms, another media/game room, and then, finally, what he had been searching for. He would have missed the entrance if he hadn’t been looking so hard, and he knew if it was hard for him to find, when he had been the one to design it, it would be virtually impossible for someone else. He pressed on a knob in the wood next to the thin seam he saw between the wooden boards, and there was a soft whoosh as the panel slid open, revealing a substantial communications and tactical planning room, equipped with a separate conference room at the very back.

  Everything was mostly dark, and there was something about the small buttons flashing and the soft beeping of data being received and recorded that made him decide to leave the lights off and wander the room strictly by the glow of the data signals.

  Everything he had asked for was there, from live satellite imagery, to a bank of computers that could log in to just about any database in the world, and an interactive imaging and mapping system at the center of the room. It was all prototype technology—stuff the rest of the military hadn’t even gotten their hands on. But his special missions had given him insight into the type of intelligence the government had been pulling together.

  He stood in the room for several minutes, taking it all in and wondering what would come next. He knew the tech team was still making some adjustments to the house, as well as to the command room, but it was practically finished. There was no point trying to guess what assignment was headed their way. Whatever it was, the CO had picked him to lead the task force.

  He took one final glance around the room before heading down to his bedroom, praying he’d be able to get some sleep and not be plagued by a nightmare. Whoever claimed the job didn’t take a toll was lying. There was no way you could enter the bowels of hell and come back unscathed.

  He hesitated at his door when he saw a makeshift sign hanging on it that said BIG DICK. He chuckled to himself, shook his head, and walked into the oversized master bedroom. Yes, things were going to be interesting around here, that was for sure.

  Chapter 2

  Delays were not acceptable. He kept strict timetables for a reason. They were often being watched, so when he took action, he had to be fast—otherwise, he would be caught. And that was simply unacceptable. He wasn’t worried about the cops. They were nothing to him. He was worried about his competition.

  A car approached slowly in the distance and his jaw clenched. How dare they make me wait! He watched the car coming through his side mirror. He would have to dole out punishment. He couldn’t show any sign of mercy. He had expectations of his men. And they would obey him.

  The initial stage of their business went smoothly. When the man and his colleague turned to leave, however, Jefe cleared his throat. “Our transaction isn’t complete.”

  “What will you do? Kill me? That won’t get you any closer to the information you want. What will you give me to make this worthwhile for me?”

  Jefe advanced on him and heard his driver following closely on his heels. The two men began to reach into their jackets for their guns, but Jefe made a slashing motion with his hand. There were two distinct pops and both men fell to their knees, clutching their thighs in agony as blood spilled between their fingers.

  “You shot me? You arrogant son of a—” The man began breathing heavily. “This information could get us both killed.”

  “Lack of information will certainly get you killed.”

  The man’s eyes darted back and forth. “I-I don’t know much.” He fell backwards as Jefe approached, landing on his back. Jefe leaned over him and pressed his foot into the man’s chest.

  “Tell me at least what you promised already.”

  “The-the Americans… There is talk. There is suspicion. And their eyes are set on everything south of their border. I’ve heard their government is setting up a special force to come after all the illegal activities.”

  Jefe lightened the weight of his foot pressed on the man’s chest. “Tell me more.”

  * * *

  Anya Gutierrez was rarely intimidated. But the impressive man who had first met her as the new owner of the Bent Horseshoe Ranch had intimidated her. He had also made her pulse race for different reasons. It had been a long time since she had been so intimately aware of the presence of a man. But every fiber of her being had been aware of Stryker Salas, and she wanted nothing more than to move closer—which frightened her. She had never been drawn to a man so strongly.

  So the thrill of excitement as she talked to the burly man had surprised her. And she had acted like such a fool. She had been overeager to please him and to try to get a smile on his hard face, and somehow she had succeeded. Cracking open the man’s armor just the smallest amount had made her day.

  She wanted to know more about him. There were few who knew any details other than that he had recently moved there and had started rebuilding the ranch. Even her best friend, Elena, who trained the horses out at his ranch had known little about him. Where was he from? What was his story?

  “He certainly likes his privacy.” Elena shrugged. “We met briefly when I was there a couple of weeks ago. He didn’t seem happy to have me there. Once he saw that I was sticking to the barn and the arena, he left me alone. My only real interactions with him have been when I bring him the winnings from the horse shows. He seems kind enough. Why? Was he rude to you?”

  Anya shook her head. “Not really, I suppose. He’s just very—”

  “Rough?” Elena supplied with a grin. “Most real cowboys are. You’ve just gotten spoiled by all the city slickers out here pretending to be ranchers.”

  Elena’s words had made her laugh. But she was beginning to doubt her decision to take him cattle shopping. It would be a long drive with just the two of them cooped up in his truck together. And then there would be the auction itself, where she would need to stay close to him so she could tell him which calves and heifers would be the best to purchase.

  She stared at her image in the mirror and took a deep breath. “You can do this,” she said firmly to herself. “He’s just another rancher.” But he was more than that. She could tell from his eyes that he was kind and gentle, that he was smart and had a sense of humor, though he tried to hide it. He was a man with a soul and a story to tell, though it was clear he really didn’t want to share it. Not yet, at least. She drew a deep breath. “He’s just another rancher,” she repeated to herself. “He’s a man you can trust. Have. Fun.”

  The small pep talk in front of the mirror helped restore her self-confidence, and she nodded firmly to her own i
mage. She grabbed her things and was out the door quickly, and reached the ranch thirty minutes later. It was to the east of Hebbronville, and down a long dirt road, so getting to it wouldn’t be easy if she didn’t drive a truck.

  As she pulled up, she noticed several other trucks parked on the property and wondered if the men he’d mentioned would be living there had finally arrived. She hadn’t been in the house since it had been remodeled, and as she walked up, she saw it had been greatly expanded. The trees and landscaping had kept it hidden from her before, and she was amazed at the size of the house.

  The exterior of the home had also been changed. Where there had once been plain wood side paneling, there was now rock and cedar, giving the home a modern yet rustic look. She wondered if the group of men were all friends who had won the lottery and gone in together to make the home so attractive and expansive.

  The front door was massive, and it reminded her of how she had felt standing next to Stryker. The man was large. That was putting it mildly. He stood at least four inches taller than her and had massive muscles that bulged beneath clothing that he seemed to wear to hide his strength. But she had actually felt that strength…when she had put her hand on his bare forearm as she had talked to him the first day. She could feel his muscles moving under her fingers, and she had been too mesmerized to take her hand away.

  She could almost still feel the silky hair that covered his warm, taut skin and the tendons as he shifted in reaction to her touch. She hadn’t wanted to stop touching him, which had surprised her.

  She had just lifted her hand for the doorbell when the door was yanked open by a man who could have been Stryker’s brother. His skin was lighter, and while Stryker’s hair had a slight wave to it, this man’s hair was straight and cropped rather short. He was tall, and, in his simple T-shirt and jeans, his muscles were obvious. He looked at her, then smiled, though it seemed it wasn’t something he was used to doing.

  “You must be the veterinarian,” he said, and held the door open a little farther. “Come in.”

  A wave of cool, air-conditioned air welcomed her into the foyer, and her eyes drank in the beautiful architecture and design of the house. She couldn’t see anything that reminded her of the previous house. It was as if the entire place had been gutted, and they had started over.

  “My name’s Phantom, by the way,” her door greeter said, extending his hand to her.

  She smiled up at him as she shook his hand. “I’m Anya Gutierrez. Are you—do you live here now too?”

  He nodded. “I’m here, along with Stryker and four other men. Buzz is the newbie to the ranching world, so if you see a guy who looks totally out of place, that’s him.”

  Anya grinned at him. “I’m sure you’re going to educate him just fine.”

  A sly smile crept across Phantom’s face, and Anya suddenly felt very sorry for Buzz. “Oh, yeah. Buzz is in good hands.”

  The sound of boots on the hardwood floors came from somewhere within the house, and Stryker suddenly rounded the corner and faced both of them. He eyed Phantom for a moment, then turned his full attention on Anya. “Are you ready to go?”

  He was dressed in a navy-blue button-down shirt and a pair of jeans that fit him perfectly. Anya felt like asking him to turn around so she could get the full picture. Good grief, this man is turning my mind to mush. She felt the heat of a blush burning her face. “Y-yes,” she stammered. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Be back later,” he tossed over his shoulder to Phantom, as he opened the door and placed his hand at the small of Anya’s back, guiding her out the door in front of him.

  The feel of his hand through the cotton of her polo shirt sent a small thrill through her. She had to remind herself to breathe as he escorted her to his F-250, which already had the gooseneck trailer attached to it. It was a big trailer, and she knew they’d be able to bring home at least ten or more calves. It would be a good addition to his current cattle, especially since he had about twenty-five head that were ready to be auctioned off to make room for some heartier heifers.

  The ride to Kingsville was punctuated by the sounds of the latest country music coming through the radio. Anya had come prepared for the drive with her ledger and a stack of invoices she needed to record before mailing them out. Stryker had taken one look at her paperwork, raised an eyebrow, and then returned his eyes to the road.

  They hadn’t talked since the first day she had met him, and only briefly when she had called to tell him about this sale. She’d hesitated even to call him, but she’d made a commitment. She hadn’t expected him to say yes.

  They pulled up to the sale arena where the Kleberg-Kenedy County Junior Livestock Show was held every winter, and Anya remembered with fondness her years showing cattle and goats and even some turkeys. She had won the title of County Stock Show Queen when she was sixteen, and then had gone on to win the County Rodeo Queen when she was seventeen. She still had her tiaras and sashes.

  “What on earth has put that look on your face?” Stryker asked. She realized at that moment they’d parked and she was still sitting in the truck with a goofy look on her face.

  “Dreams,” she replied with a smile. “Haven’t you heard of them before, Stryker?”

  Her quip at his expense seemed to take him by surprise. He shook his head at her, then left the truck. “Well, you’re about as much fun as getting a root canal,” Anya said to herself, before her door was yanked open and Stryker stood looking up at her impatiently.

  She hopped down from the truck and instantly had to scramble to get her feet set right underneath her on the muddy ground. Suddenly Stryker’s muscular arm snaked around her waist, and he pulled her to him, holding her tight.

  She was hit with the scent of his spicy cologne, leather, and man—pure, hearty man—and her hands immediately pressed against the front of his shirt as her feet settled beneath her. But her mind and body were far from settled.

  He leaned down and the feeling of his lips brushing lightly against her ear caused her heart to thunder so hard, she was afraid it would beat out of her chest. “Just for your information, I can be far more fun than a root canal… You just have to know what to ask for.”

  Chapter 3

  She was blushing to the tips of her ears, and he was enjoying every second of it. Especially when she had drawn in a deep breath, which only served to press her more intimately to him. He could smell the sweet scent of honey and lilies on her skin and in her hair, and wanted nothing more than to nuzzle the warmth of her neck. How long had it been since he had craved a woman this much?

  His body had started to respond, so he’d quickly set her away from him, a muscle jumping in his jaw. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and in fact turned away from him and set off toward the show barns. He couldn’t tell whether she was embarrassed, angry, or a combination of both. He had just made a very strong innuendo to her. Perhaps too strong.

  He followed her to the show barns and tried his best not to watch her the entire time. He needed to make connections, meet people in the industry. He needed to blend in with his undercover role. That was what he was there to do. He nodded to several people as he passed them, memorizing faces, registering those that struck him as out of place and those that seemed right at home.

  Anya was just too damn appealing in his mind. She wore a simple pair of boot-cut jeans with a belt that had a touch of rhinestone embellishment, though not so much that it made the thing appear gaudy. She wore a pale pink polo shirt tucked into her jeans, the perfect color to complement her tan skin and dark brown hair, and accentuate her narrow waist.

  Stryker felt a growl growing within his chest. He stepped forward until he was alongside her and cast a look around, noticing several men giving her appreciative glances. He wanted to slide his arm around her waist and hold her close. These men needed to know that Anya Gutierrez was off limits. She was with him.

  The thought startled h
im. It had been years since he had felt such a way about a woman. He had thought he was incapable of feeling such things ever again. But there was something about her innocence, her wide smile that she cast as she moved through the crowd, that made him want to protect her from all the big, bad, ugly things he knew were in the world.

  They checked into the show and got their bidding number, then went to find a place in the stands. There were far more ranchers there than Stryker had expected, and he was worried the cost was going to be driven up because of it. While it was technically still the government’s money he was paying with, he wouldn’t pay an outrageous amount just because he could.

  Several ranchers stepped over to say hello to Anya, and Stryker bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile as she introduced them. I need to be making friends, he reminded himself. This was all part of his undercover operation. Anya was a surprise he had discovered on his land and had no part in his undercover role. But he’d realized after the first day he’d met her that she could help him. Being credible to her made him that much closer to being credible to other ranchers, and eventually clients, as he cycled through his cattle, pulling out the weak ones to build an even stronger herd.

  As if reading his mind, Anya spoke up suddenly. “Have you decided when you’re going to sell the twenty-five head you have that are ready to go to auction?”

  “When do you think would be a good time?” She looked startled by his question. “Keep in mind,” he said, “it’s been many years since I’ve been in this game. So you tell me when you think it will be a good time to auction them off, and I’ll tell you if I agree.”