SEAL for Hire

by Trish Loye

  “Zero. Nice bomb threat,” she said into her mic.

  Ryan had an iron grip on her arm, yanking her toward the door while keeping an eye on everyone around them.

  “Thanks,” Lexi said. “I couldn’t find a missile, but I had a drone. I attached a Coke can to it. Is it helping?”

  “You’re a fucking genius,” Ryan said over the comms.

  His grip on Sutton’s arm loosened, but he still held her close. They flowed with the part of the crowd moving past the guards and toward the front door, keeping their faces down.

  One guard reached out and grabbed her forearm, pulling her away from Ryan. She cried out when he pressed on her bandaged cut. Blood seeped onto her hand. The cut must have opened with all the fighting. Ryan fought the tide of people to get back to her but it was slow going.

  The guard spotted the blood on her hand and jumped to an unfortunately correct conclusion. “You!” he shouted in Russian.

  Before he could say anything else, she slammed her knee into his groin. He released her and she flowed back into the crowd. Ryan stood like a rock in a raging river, his arm extended for her, not letting anyone push him away from her. People flowed around him, and she let the crowd take her to him.

  He snagged her and brought her close to his side. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s blow this place,” she said.

  They walked out into the evening filled with sirens and flashing lights and barked orders. People in tuxes and ballgowns spilled onto the lawn and out into the street. The media had finally arrived and lapped up the chaos like a cat given butter.

  The gate and freedom were only yards away. The guard she’d kneed in the groin recovered enough to start shouting behind her. Russian guards and FSB officers rushed toward them.

  “There she is!” Amelia shouted from the front of a group of police and SWAT. Most drew their weapons and sighted on her. With a glance behind, and the Russians so close, she let go of Ryan, and hurried toward the police.

  “What are you doing?” Ryan demanded, keeping pace with her.

  “I need you free to get me out of this. Don’t let them take you for questioning.”

  He scowled but let the crowd pull him from her and off the Russian Embassy property.

  “Stop!” a Russian security officer shouted, his weapon sighted on her.

  She shook her head, raised her hands, and stepped off Russian soil and into American police custody.

  19

  Sutton leaned her head back against the concrete wall in the jail cell and sighed. She sat on a steel bench bolted to the cement floor. The black dress was ripped and blood-stained. The police had let EMS see to her cuts and bruises before plunking her into this holding cell.

  Sutton glanced at the stained floor and the open seatless toilet in the corner and grimaced. She was definitely getting too old for this shit. Not that it mattered anymore. After tonight, she wouldn’t be able to go undercover anymore. The news crews and their cameras had taken care of that.

  Amelia had brought her paper slippers for her bare feet and news, before she’d been shoved out of the holding area for being family. Apparently, Lexi had gotten in touch and let Amelia know that Tony had been taken into custody by the DHS. The Russians hadn’t wanted him if he didn’t have the list anymore, so they’d dumped him onto the street. The flash drive with the names had been salvaged by Ryan and everyone had a happy ending.

  Except for her.

  No. She was not feeling sorry for herself. Just because it had been three hours since she’d been plopped in this cell and felt as though she’d been forgotten didn’t mean that she was. It was just the adrenaline crash. All she wanted was to stretch out and sleep for twenty-four hours. Her cellmate, a woman in a bikini halter and a tube top masquerading as a skirt, sat at the other end of the bench. She probably wouldn’t appreciate Sutton’s feet on her lap. Sutton eyed the woman’s four-inch heels, thankful for her paper slippers at least.

  A cop with an out-of-date mustache came up to the door and opened it.

  Sutton straightened. It was about time.

  “Come on, Sally,” he said. “Your guy’s posted bail for you.”

  Sally wobbled out on her heels. She glanced back and her face softened. “He’s not worth it, hon.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Whoever you’re in here for.” She waved a dragon-clawed hand around the cell. “Stop pining for him. You’re a classy lady. Fuck him.”

  “Thanks,” Sutton said, suddenly ashamed of the thoughts she’d had about the woman beside her. “You too.”

  Sally shrugged. “I’m a lost cause. Don’t be me.” She lifted her chin and followed the officer out.

  The door clanged shut and she sat, truly alone now.

  Sutton had been in a cell before. It shouldn’t have been anything new, but somehow this was different. The mission was over. She was in the States and somehow she wasn’t free. Had they forgotten about her? Maybe getting her released was trickier than she’d thought. Surely by tomorrow someone would come.

  She sighed and finally succumbed to the need to sleep. She stretched out on her back on the narrow bench and closed her eyes. Instead of sleep, images assaulted her. Images of Ryan as she’d last seen him getting pulled away by the crowd. Amelia would have let her know if anything had happened to him. He had to be free and okay.

  And she would be soon, she promised herself. She just had to be patient. And when she was free, she was going to confront Ryan. It was past time they figured out what was between them. Maybe they could even start something new.

  The image of the woman in the bikini who’d answered Ryan’s door so long ago came to her. How he’d moved on so quickly from their relationship. She shook the old memory and pain away. That was in the past and not worth thinking about.

  And besides, he’d promised to collect a weekend from her and he fulfilled his promises.

  Heat curled inside her at that thought. She shifted on the bench, trying to get comfortable. He would show eventually.

  “Nice slippers, Sunshine.” His voice broke into her thoughts.

  She bounded upright, a smile on her face when she spotted him on the other side of the open door. He’d ditched his jacket and had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He looked scrumptious. But where was the guard? “You’re not breaking me out of here, are you?” Had things gone wrong? Were they leaving her to face charges?

  “Relax, gorgeous,” Ryan said. “I just asked the officer if I could get you myself. He’s waiting on the other side with your release papers.”

  She smiled. “Thank God. I really didn’t want to go on the run in these slippers. Even with you.”

  He arched a brow. “Could have been fun.”

  That look had the heat whipping up inside her. “Get me out of here.”

  “Gladly.” He extended his hand and she put hers in it, her heart thumping hard enough to be heard. When had holding hands excited her this much?

  She shuffled out of the cell and the police station, never once letting go of his hand, even when she signed for her jewelry and purse.

  Outside, he glanced down at her feet and then, without any warning, swept her into his arms, carrying her down the stone steps of the department and across the street to a black sports car.

  “Milady,” he murmured, setting her on her feet and opening the passenger door for her.

  She knew it was a joke, but she couldn’t help the warmth that suffused her cheeks, as something bloomed inside her, and a smile played on her lips.

  She settled into the car and Ryan slid into the driver’s seat. “Sorry it took so long to get you, but Silas insisted on a debrief while he worked on getting you released. By the way, you don’t have to debrief until tomorrow.”

  “Well, that’s sweet since it’s after midnight.”

  Ryan laughed. “Do you want me to take you home?”

  “I’m not sure there’s much left of my apartment, but yes.” She did need to sleep. Would Ryan come with her? Wo
uld he even want to collect on his weekend? Why was she having doubts now?

  At her apartment, he followed her up and saw her inside. The door had crime-scene tape. Once she unlocked it and ducked under the tape, she grimaced at what awaited her. Her living room had been destroyed; the kitchen seemed to have fared better and the bedroom best of all, though the smell of char and smoke lingered everywhere.

  Ryan walked in and cleared the whole apartment. She let him, liking the feeling of being the one being taken care of for once. He came out of her bedroom with a satisfied look on his face. “I like that you look at my beach when you’re in bed each night.”

  She shrugged one shoulder, trying to be casual. “It’s a pretty beach.”

  He looked at her and a predator gazed out of his eyes. “My house is on that beach.” His smile was slow and too sexy. “You like it because it’s mine.”

  For the second time, her cheeks flushed with warmth. Damn him. “Maybe,” she said, trying not to smile. “Maybe I just like beaches.”

  He stalked back to her and cradled her face in his hands. “No,” he whispered. “It’s mine and so are you.”

  And then he kissed her. It started out slow, sweet, and soft. She succumbed to the spell he wove and closed her eyes. Her heart thudded heavy in her chest and her arms went around his back, feeling the strength in his muscles through his shirt. She wanted this man and not just for one night or even one weekend. She wanted him for the rest of her life. His kiss lulled her, accepted her, cherished her.

  He pulled back. “Get some rest.” He gazed into her eyes. “Debrief tomorrow. Silas has something for you. It’s completely your choice. No pressure.”

  He gave her an odd little smile and touched his lips to her forehead. Then he left the apartment and didn’t look back.

  She blinked and deflated where she stood.

  He’d...left.

  The next morning, she reported to DHS headquarters and found Silas Branson’s office without too much trouble. The managing director of her department in the CIA was also in his office. Director Carsons had silver hair, a pot belly, and the type of attitude that suggested he should be chewing on a cigar. The two men sat with coffee cups, chatting, when she knocked on the open door.

  “Come in.” Silas waved her toward an open chair in front of his desk. “It’s good to finally meet you in person.”

  “Agent McRaven,” the director said. “I’m glad this mess has been sorted out.”

  Mess? She arched a brow. “I guess being accused of being a traitor and hunted by every agency out there could be described as a bit of a mess.”

  The man frowned.

  She turned to Silas. “Do you want me to give you a statement?”

  Silas had a smirk in his eye. “I got everything I need from Ryan.”

  “So what am I doing here?”

  Carsons turned to her. “I thought the DHS office would be easier for you to get to after your experience.”

  Now it was her turn to frown. “Why would you care if it was easier? What’s going on?”

  The man sighed and then steepled his fingers. “I’m afraid you’re being relegated to an admin position until further notice.”

  She blinked. She hadn’t been expecting this. “Why?”

  “Your little stunt at the Russian Embassy was caught on many cameras and multiple networks. In particular, your face and name was on every channel last night. I’m assuming you realized that?”

  “You do realize I was incarcerated last night?”

  “Yes. Unfortunate for your career.”

  Both of her eyebrows lifted. “Unfortunate?”

  He straightened. “Like I was saying, you still have a position with the CIA. You’re just no longer associated with the field.”

  “Admin,” she said flatly. In other words, she’d have an interior broom closet where she managed the cafeteria workers. “Why not an analyst?”

  “It was a decision made above my head.”

  “In other words,” Silas said, his expression grim and stony, “they’re blaming you for bringing bad press onto the CIA.”

  She turned back to the director. “Is that true?”

  He shifted in his seat and didn’t meet her eyes. “It was decided that you need a break from the limelight for a while.”

  Anger boiled inside her and her hands clenched into fists. How dare they. Her breathing quickened.

  “Bastard.”

  “Really, Sutton. Is name-calling necessary?” Carsons asked, his voice filled with satisfaction. “This is why we felt you might need a break, especially because of all the unfortunate things that have happened to you recently.” He lifted his chin slightly and he eyed her clenched fists. “But apparently it’s necessary.”

  Silas went predatory still.

  The rage inside her coalesced into a pinprick of super-heated fury, waiting to explode into a supernova. Everything became calm and focused, like just before a fire-fight. They would not shove her into the dark for something that wasn’t her fault. She’d spent fifteen years working her ass off for them and had given up all semblance of a life for them, and this is how they treated her?

  Fifteen years.

  Her life.

  Her life with Ryan.

  She lifted her chin in a return challenge. “My formal resignation will be on your desk tomorrow.” She turned to Silas, who visibly relaxed and grinned at her, approval in his eyes.

  “Ryan said you had something for me?” she asked in a polite voice, taking great care to ignore the director as he stood and huffed himself out of the office.

  “Well done, McRaven.” Silas opened a drawer and withdrew an envelope. He tapped it once against his other palm. “Let me know if you ever want back in the game.”

  She didn’t say no. She had no idea what she would do now, but she did know that she couldn’t make any kind of commitment until she sorted out what was between her and Ryan. She held out her hand.

  The envelope was heavier than just a letter. With a glance at Silas, she opened it.

  A ticket to San Diego in her name. And a sheet of paper.

  * * *

  I hope you come. And not just for a weekend.

  * * *

  R.

  20

  Three days later, she drove her rental car up to a beach house she hadn’t seen in a long time. Her heart beat like a wild bird trying to escape a cage. She shut off the engine and wiped her hands on her jeans. It was just Ryan. He was expecting her. This wasn’t a life-or-death situation.

  None of it reassured her. She somehow couldn’t calm herself down, no matter how many deep breaths she took.

  What if he’d changed his mind?

  Stop that. He’d given her a ticket to come see him.

  He wanted her here. She had to remember that. With a last deep breath that was more of a sigh, she opened the door and got out. She left her small suitcase in the back and only took her purse. She hated feeling so insecure.

  Once she started walking, she kept going, just like moving toward an objective. Don’t think about what can go wrong; just do the job you have to do, and keep going. She knocked on the door without hesitation, though her heart rate skyrocketed into the danger zone.

  The door opened right away. He must have heard her car pull up. He smiled and she couldn’t help but smile back. He reached out a hand and she put hers in it, allowing him to pull her inside and into his arms for a hug that engulfed and reassured and promised good things.

  “I’m glad you came,” he whispered in her ear, still hugging her.

  “Me too.”

  “I wasn’t sure you would,” he said.

  She gave a little laugh. “I always pay my debts.”

  He frowned and stepped back. She missed his warmth already. “Is that the only reason you came?” he asked. “To fulfill our contract?”

  Here was her chance to blow her own cover of tough-CIA-agent and show her true self. The self that wanted a real life with this man. Showing vulnerability
had never been easy.

  But she hadn’t come all this way to be a coward.

  She shook her head slowly. “Not because of the contract,” she said. “I wanted to spend time with you...as much time as you’ll let me.”

  He nodded, but didn’t smile, and her heart fell off a cliff. Oh God, had she made a mistake?

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  Her mouth almost dropped open. “Seriously, Ryan? You’re breaking up with me before we even get together?”

  He gave a mirthless chuckle. “No. I mean we need to talk, before I take you to bed and keep you naked for a week.”

  Oh. Her face heated and visions of what they’d be doing heated her insides.

  His gaze became knowing and that intensified the warmth, until he beckoned her farther into the house. “Let me make coffee.”

  She followed him into his kitchen—simple, bright, with amazing views of the beach. She stared longingly for a moment before focusing back on Ryan, who busied himself with a stainless-steel coffeemaker.

  “Talk about what?” she asked, admiring the strength of Ryan’s profile before he turned that piercing gaze on her.

  “Us, of course,” he said. “What happened to us the first time and will it happen again? I need to know if this is just a fling for you, or if you’re here to see if there’s something more long-term between us.”

  “I don’t do flings.” She hadn’t had a fling since before dating Ryan the first time. It just wasn’t in her nature to have a one-night-or-weekend-stand. Though she had been willing to do one with Ryan if that’s all that he’d truly wanted. “I want to see where this goes between us. I...I missed you.”

  The furrow between his brows and his narrowed eyes said he didn’t believe her. “Why did you never contact me then? I get that you had moved on.” He scrubbed a hand over his head. “But I never did. I waited for you to come back. I waited for years.”

  Something inside her cracked open and started to bleed. “But I did come back.”

  “When?” He crossed his arms over his chest, an implicit challenge in his stance. “When did you come back?”