by Theresa Hall
He looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ll get them. Where?”
She told him where she had left them and watched him sprint away. He made running through the heavy sand look easy, she noticed. And why didn’t he care that it would be all in his shoes?
She kept glancing around her to make sure her attacker didn’t return, realizing she didn’t even know who this man helping her was. She had intentionally ignored his uniform. She had also been too busy trying not to think about those piercing gray eyes, not to mention the impossibly broad shoulders. She had clearly been without oxygen for too long out there. Why else would she be noticing a man?
When the object of her thoughts came back empty-handed, however, her stomach pulsed in anxiety. “You didn’t find my things?”
“The beach is empty.” His rigid posture discouraged questions, but she didn’t care.
“But I left my clothes and my bag. Are you sure? My phone, my ID, everything was there.” She ignored his protest and jogged down the beach.
Fresh panic washed over her as she realized he was right. Her things were gone. She dashed frantically on down the beach, searching, hoping and praying. When she realized the futility of her search, she turned to find he was there.
She put a hand to her head. “I have nothing. I can’t even prove to you that I am who I say I am.”
He pressed his lips together. “That’s easily solved. We already have your identification on file from your application. But if this person was after you for a reason, they now know everything about you.”
* * *
Micah hadn’t needed this kind of trouble today. It was the tenth anniversary of his father’s death and he had had hoped to finish his workday early and go home to call his mother. But this wasn’t something he could ignore.
He hadn’t been able to mentally prepare for Dr. Lucas’s arrival, since she hadn’t been due to start working until tomorrow. He was honestly irritated that she was coming at all. He had been training the dolphins on his own for over a year and now all of a sudden they wanted to change things on him? He didn’t need her help, and it was an insult to his abilities that the admiral had insisted. They had other vets on staff and he didn’t need a training consultant. He suspected it was more of a PR stunt than legitimate need. Seeing that she was young and attractive just compounded his irritation, for a plethora of reasons. Mainly because he didn’t want a woman in his life and here was a stunningly attractive one, thrown right into his path.
And now she looked frightened and vulnerable—two things he could never ignore. Also two things he had hoped never to encounter in a woman again.
“I’m sorry, but who are you and why are you helping me?” Her forehead creased at her question and it occurred to him he should have told her sooner.
“Lieutenant Micah Kent, head of the naval dolphin training program here in Coronado. We’ll be working together in the very near future.” He extended a hand.
He had tried to keep his tone neutral, but he could see from her expression that she read his annoyance at the situation. “Oh, I see. Then I’m pleased to meet you.”
He nodded, thinking to return the sentiment, but the unexpected ping of a gunshot sent him into action instead. For a split second, his mind returned to that horrible night in Afghanistan when they had been ambushed. The heat and the smell of burnt ammo replayed in his senses.
Keilani cried out, returning his thoughts to the present. How long would he have these flashbacks? He pushed her down, just out of the line of fire as he urged her to run. A trickle of blood ran down her arm from where the bullet had grazed her shoulder. She slapped a hand over it, but kept moving. She didn’t even look at the wound.
“Head for that green door on your right.” He nudged her in that direction as he pulled his government-issue Sig from his belt. Checking to see that she was following orders this time, he turned and fired in the direction from which the shots had come. More shots flew his way, and he urged Keilani to move faster. Once they reached the door, he checked his gun and grasped his ID card to swipe for clearance.
To his surprise, he heard shots right behind him, and he turned to find Keilani firing her own weapon with precision and confidence. Where had she stashed the Glock? And better yet, why? He blinked as he opened the door while someone let out a grunt in the distance. He’d had no idea she had a weapon hidden away in that wetsuit.
Jerking her inside, he slammed the door behind them. “Nice.” He nodded at her.
“What? You expected a panicked damsel?” She dropped the hand holding the gun to her side.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He grinned before urging her on. “Come on. We need to file a report.”
Another gunshot ricocheted off the door. Her brows rose but he motioned her on.
“You’re safe now. They aren’t getting through that door.” He tried to sound soothing, but judging from the way she winced, it came out as gruff and sharp as everything else he said.
He led her through a long, empty corridor and down a flight of stairs into the basement. When they came to an office with a closed door that had his name on it, he unlocked it and motioned her inside.
“Sit. I’ve gotta make a couple of calls.” He pointed to a stiff-backed chair before folding himself into his own chair behind the desk.
Keilani did as he suggested, but perched on the edge of her seat. He imagined he could still hear her heart pounding, though her face was pretty calm. Rich brown eyes framed by thick, dark lashes sloped up just slightly; her small, pert nose widening above full red lips. Her appearance certainly fit her name. He could see her on an island surfing or entertaining tourists.
She shivered and he came to his senses.
“Maybe I should see about getting you something dry to wear first.” He stood and moved to the door, but stopped and turned back to see if she agreed.
She gave him an appreciative smile and he realized she must have been uncomfortable. He nodded and strode down the hall to a storage closet where he rummaged around until he found something that he thought would fit her. It was an old uniform, but under the circumstances, anything was surely better than the high-necked wetsuit she wore at present. Not that she wasn’t absolutely perfect in it, but he definitely had no business noticing when he had no intention of getting involved with anyone. He had learned his lesson. Love was not on his agenda.
She thanked him with a gracious nod when he returned with the clothing and showed her to the ladies’ restroom where she could change.
Before she could enter, he motioned to where the blood was drying across the top edge of her shoulder. “Your arm.”
“It’s just a scratch. I’ll clean it up. A small bandage will be sufficient.” She seemed more concerned with the nick in her wetsuit than her skin.
He retrieved a square of cotton and some antiseptic from a nearby cupboard for her to treat it with. “Do you need some help?”
She offered him a small smile. “I’m a vet. I think I can manage such a tiny wound.”
He nodded, face flushing just a bit. She entered the restroom, and he returned to his desk to call his commanding officer. Captain Jarvis sent him directly to the admiral.
He again explained the situation and that he believed Keilani might have seen something that had somehow put her in danger.
The response wasn’t good. “They did what, now? I don’t think so. Who’s getting past security around my base? Are you pulling my leg, Kent? I’m going to have some heads for this. What happened to these men who were shooting at you? And where is this Dr. Lucas?”
“Sir, she wasn’t on base, but just outside on the beach. She’s in some kind of trouble. I’m not sure this is going to work.” He had explained how he found her and how they had been pursued back to the base. “Maybe we should hold off on her starting here. We could be putting everyone in danger, especially Dr. Lucas.”
�
��Look, I know you haven’t wanted her help from the start. But you’re going to have to give this a shot. And if some idiot thinks they can get us to back off on this, they might as well forget it. It just confirms to me that we need to do it.” The admiral’s voice held a note of firm finality. “Meanwhile, you’re assigned to protective duty. And I’m going to reassign some men if they can’t handle security. I will find out who did this.”
“Protective duty? You mean, like her bodyguard? But, sir—”
“No arguments. Keep her safe or it’s on your head.” The admiral hung up and Micah bit back a sigh. Just what he needed.
“Yes, sir,” Micah muttered to the empty room, hanging up the phone. He sat back and let out a sigh of frustration. So there was more to Keilani’s hire than PR and publicity, just as he had suspected. The admiral didn’t seem surprised by what Keilani had seen. Unfortunately, he knew the admiral well enough to know he would never explain what was going on until he was ready.
Copyright © 2020 by Sommer Smith
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ISBN-13: 9781488061318
Accidental Target
Copyright © 2020 by Theresa Hall
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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