Hot SEAL, Decoy Bride (SEALs in Paradise)

by Delilah Devlin

  Cass glanced at her watch. The other team had had plenty of time to deliver Eliana to the plane. “Yeah, maybe we’ll find him along the way.”

  “I don’t like this,” Trigger said. He raised his phone and dialed Justin’s number on his speed dial.

  Cass stood close so she could listen in.

  “Any problems on your end?” Justin asked. “Eliana’s wheels up.”

  “Maybe,” Trigger said. “We lost Mitch.”

  “I’ll track his phone. Hold on a second.”

  They stood in the center of the sidewalk, foot traffic flowing around them. Both Cass and Trigger faced away from each other for a different view of the street.

  “Trigger, Mitch’s phone is off.”

  They both froze. There wasn’t any good reason his phone had been turned off. Running out of battery wasn’t an excuse for an operative headed out on a job. Cass could imagine half a dozen scenarios to explain why Mitch wasn’t there and his phone couldn’t be tracked. None of them were good.

  “Stay in the open,” Justin said. “We’re tracking you now. It’ll take about fifteen minutes for us to get to you.”

  When the call ended, Trigger drew a deep breath. “We stay on Bourbon.”

  She nodded. “But we have to move. We’re sitting ducks if we don’t.”

  “Maybe we should look for a good defensible position.”

  Cass glanced down the street and noticed a jazz bar, a man standing outside calling out to passersby to come inside. “How about in there,” she said, lifting her chin toward the bar. “We can find a corner in the dark and pretend to be making out. We’ll have a view of anyone who comes at us.”

  He reached for her hand and tucked it into the corner of his elbow. Together, they strode at a leisurely pace toward the bar. All the while, from behind the cover of her sunglasses, her gaze darted around, trying to determine who was friend or foe and where trouble might step out to greet them.

  Chapter 12

  Trigger had to pay a couple in the far corner of the bar to vacate their table. Then he and Cass settled onto the padded bench seat. He sat closest to the wall so he could watch over the crowded room as she turned to him and settled against his chest. They sat in the shadows. Anyone looking would only see their outlines.

  “This is kind of nice,” she said.

  Trigger pressed a kiss against her forehead then set her back. “I think it’s time to lose the disguise,” he said. “Change your appearance.”

  She nodded and took off the sunglasses, drew off the scarf, pulled the bun free and shook her hair around her shoulders. “Better?” she asked.

  “Yeah, might not be enough if anyone was watching us come in here.” He glanced around, thinking. “I’ve got another idea.” He shrugged off his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, then pulled his white tee over his head. “Put this on over what you’re wearing.”

  While he put on his button-down, leaving the neck open and rolling up the sleeves, she donned the T-shirt, tucking the long hem into the waistband of her pants. Even wearing a plain tee, she looked like a million dollars.

  “Better,” he said, tossing his jacket under the table. When they left, their appearances would be changed enough to confuse anyone watching out for them.

  “I should do something about the makeup, too,” she said.

  He looked around and found the sign to the restroom. It was close enough he could watch any traffic going into the hallway. “Head to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right behind you.”

  He waited until she disappeared then pushed up from his seat to follow, frowning because they’d no doubt lose their seats.

  Just as he stood, a waitress appeared. “What can I bring you to drink, sir?”

  “Two beers. Whatever’s on draft,” he said, and reached into his pocket for a twenty. “And make sure the table stays free. I’ll be right back.”

  Hurrying down the hall, he passed the men’s room door and headed straight to the ladies’, stopping outside to tap on the door. “Cass?”

  There was no answer, so he tapped again. “Cass!” When he was met with only silence, he turned the handle and pushed, but something blocked the door. Standing back, he kicked the door, dislodging a large trashcan that had been placed there. Banging open the two stalls as he passed them, he stopped to stare at the window halfway up the far wall. It was wide open.

  “Fuck.” Taking several steps back, he ran for the window then stretched out his arms at the last minute and sailed through it.

  Cass couldn’t believe the man with her had gotten the drop on her so easily. She’d glanced under both doors of the stalls to ensure her privacy before she’d headed to the sink. Placing her glasses on the counter and her purse at her feet, she’d begun rinsing her face. She hadn’t known she was in trouble until she’d looked up from the basin, her mascara dripping down her face, to see a short, scrawny man wearing a black balaclava standing behind her with a handgun pointed at her head.

  She’d swallowed hard then tilted her head at the mirror. “Do you mind if I get the rest of my makeup off? I look a fright,” she said in her best “Eliana.”

  “Bitch, don’t care what you look like. Get your ass through that window, now,” he’d said, waving the gun.

  “Okay, okay, but do you know who I am?” she’d asked, stalling for time.

  “Know exactly who you are. What the fuck would I want with you otherwise?”

  “Wow, that was cold,” she’d said, sniffing.

  He’d quickly forced her toward the window, then pushed the back of her head so that she bent forward. Hands reached inside and grasped her shoulders while the man behind her picked up her legs and shoved her the rest of the way outside, not caring how badly he jostled her against the frame until she dropped to the ground on the other side.

  So, she’d have some bruises. She still had her handgun strapped to her ankle. Plus, she knew Trigger would be right behind them. All she had to do was slow them down to keep them from getting her to the end of the alley. She had no doubts they had more accomplices waiting there to whisk her away, which would complicate things astronomically.

  She was scared, sure, but she knew odds were in her favor. These guys were amateurs, and their uneasiness showed.

  Standing, she dusted off Trigger’s white tee then held out the hands she’d used to catch her fall. “Ewww!” she said, looking down at her hands. “What is this stuff? And my purse!” she exclaimed, turning toward the window.

  Her purse sailed through the opening and landed on the ground beside her. The little man who’d accosted her hauled himself out of the window and landed lightly on the ground.

  The men’s laughter was dirty and mocking. The one who’d accosted her in the bathroom shoved the barrel of his weapon against her ribs. “Start walking.”

  The other guy was on some sort of handheld radio. “Yeah, we got the package, man. Bring the car around.”

  She rolled her eyes. There was nothing smooth or practiced about this abduction. They’d likely learned everything they knew from watching some crime show on TV. Sure, someone had thought to bring their kid brother’s walkie-talkies, but by their posture and the way their gazes darted around the dark alley, they were nervous as hell. Not good if the guy holding the gun got itchy-fingered. But still, something she could work with.

  Just as she heard a car come to a screeching halt at the end of the alley, she took a step forward then surreptitiously kicked off her sandal. “Oh, wait,” she said. “I lost my sandal.” She went down on her hands and knees and felt around, although she knew exactly where her shoe was.

  “Goddammit, bitch. Forget the fucking shoe,” the scrawny guy bit out.

  From the corner of her eye she saw him tuck his weapon into the waist of his joggers and reach out for her hair. It was now or never. She had to make a move before two knuckleheads turned into many. She fell to the side and swept out her foot, catching him at the back of the knee.

  When he fell on his ass, the o
ther dude rushed toward her, but she rolled to her feet, swung under the punch he thought he would deliver and thrust her curved fist into his windpipe. He went to his knees gasping and clutching his throat. Quickly, she turned in the opposite direction of the men rushing from the end of the alley and ran into a brick wall of muscle.

  His weapon already drawn, Trigger gripped her arm and pulled her behind him. He aimed at the three men headed their way. The men halted, their bodies outlined in the bright lights coming from the street, and although every one of them held a gun his hand, they quickly abandoned their plan and turned to rush back to their vehicle.

  The car screeched away. But not far by the distant sounds of shouts for her attackers’ buddies to get out of their car and onto the ground.

  The cavalry had arrived.

  Remy Cyr approached Cass with a packet of wet wipes. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he handed them to her. “You might want…”

  She gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “I know, I look like shit.”

  “Never,” he said.

  “You’re just being a gentleman.”

  He chuckled and turned to go back to the officers who were busy loading gang members into a police van.

  Trigger broke away from his conversation with Justin and took the packet of wipes she had just opened. “Here, let me.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she grumbled half-heartedly.

  “I know. I can bear witness to that fact, but I can see what needs cleaning.”

  She handed over the wipes and lifted her face.

  He quickly rubbed a couple over her cheeks and forehead. “Close your eyes.” She did so, and he wiped over and under her eyes. Then she felt his warm lips press a kiss against hers. When he moved back, she blinked open her eyes. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He tilted his head toward Justin. “He liked hearing how you handled yourself.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “They weren’t very smart. It was kind of easy to distract them.”

  “But you were cool under pressure.”

  “They didn’t scare me. Not much, anyway. I knew you had my back.”

  He moved back in and held her hips. “And your front, and y—”

  “All right, already,” Justin said, rolling his eyes as he approached. “Remy has everything he needs from you guys. You can head back to the house. You can pack up in the morning.” He pointed at Cass. “You’ll need to come in on Monday to see HR and sign a bunch of papers, but for now, you both have a long weekend.” He arched a brow. “Have fun.”

  Trigger held out his hand and shook Justin’s. “Thanks, boss.”

  “I’m just glad Ms. Rosi’s safely away. Good job, you two. Remy located Mitch. Several of them jumped him, knocked him out, and dragged him into an alley where they tied him up. They gave Remy his location. He’s bruised, but EMTs are checking him out. They’re releasing him to go home.”

  “I’m glad,” Cass said.

  Justin turned and raised a finger. A man in the distance held up a hand and shook a set of keys. “He’ll give you a ride back. Try not to run into any more kidnappers.”

  Cass and Trigger chuckled as he strode away.

  Trigger slung his arm around her shoulder and walked toward their driver. “Just imagine. We have a night to ourselves. What are we going to do?”

  “We have four days to ourselves…” she reminded him, arching an eyebrow.

  Trigger blinked. “Let’s go back and get packed.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Leave it to me. But do you have a passport?”

  On Saturday morning, Cass groaned and rolled over in the bed only to discover that Trigger’s side of the mattress was empty. What a shame, she thought. She’d loved waking beside him, either waking him up with her hands already getting busy below or with him kissing his way down her body. They’d spent every hour since they’d arrived in Cozumel mostly in bed, except for the occasional swim in the ocean or a meal.

  Trigger was insatiable. Or “marking his territory”, as he’d called it last night as he’d kissed his way south.

  Their getaway had been like a dream. A redeye flight to Mexico that he’d booked while they’d been on their way back to Eliana’s. She’d never done something so spontaneous, but they’d needed a break and the time alone, without worries or responsibilities.

  She’d found that she liked traveling with him, liked their isolation. They’d had time to talk about their pasts, their dreams for the future. Last night, their conversation had turned toward how they planned to make their relationship work in the long haul.

  “I’d like us to find a house,” Trigger had said, holding up her hand. He’d pointed at her ring finger then locked his gaze with hers. “I’d like to make this permanent. You and me, Cass.”

  He wanted permanent? Marriage? She hadn’t been shocked. Hadn’t laughed and said it was too soon. Something had clicked inside her, and she’d blurted, “I’d like that, too.”

  His smile had been…sweet. Almost relieved. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “Why?”

  He shook his head. “Because I’m sure about this. About us. I was hoping you didn’t have any catching up to do.”

  That had struck her as funny, and she’d rolled over him, tickling his ribs. “You saying I’m slow?”

  He’d easily overpowered her, rolling her to her back and capturing her hands, which he held above her head on the pillow. Then he’d drawn a deep breath. “I’m saying I love you, Cass.”

  All humor fled from her. She stared into his hazel eyes, knowing he was waiting for her to reciprocate, that he needed to hear the words, too. “I love you, too, Trigger. And I don’t care how crazy it is that it happened so fast. I just know I want to be with you and to know that I’m all in.”

  After that, they’d been lost in a haze of happy lust. When they’d both climaxed, he hadn’t been ready to leave her. He’d spooned against her back and slipped his still hard cock back inside her. “You get some sleep, sweetheart. You’ll need it.”

  She’d fallen asleep wearing a smile.

  Rolling out of bed, she headed to the bathroom, thinking he might be there. Instead, she found a Post-it note stuck to the mirror. “Look in the closet. Dress and meet me on the beach.”

  Intrigued, she walked to the hotel closet and slid open the door. The dress Eliana had given her was hanging there. Cass stared for a long moment, realizing what it meant, what they were about to do. With tears in her eyes, she headed to the shower.

  Twenty minutes later, because she’d had to blow dry her hair and put on a tiny bit of makeup to make herself as pretty as she could, she walked across the sand barefoot toward Trigger. He was dressed in a white, button-down shirt and dark slacks, but also stood barefoot in front of an older man wearing a gray suit and holding a Bible.

  Trigger held out his hand to her. “You look amazing,” he whispered then kissed her mouth. “I have a ring.” He made a little grimace. “It’s silver, but I promise to get you the real thing when we’re back home.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small ring box and started to go to one knee.

  She shook her head.

  “Too fast, babe?” he asked, straightening, his expression uncertain.

  “No. Not fast enough.” She smiled and turned toward the man in the gray suit. “You can begin now.”

  Trigger leaned toward her and whispered, “He doesn’t speak English.”

  Cass laughed. “Is this even legal?”

  The man cleared his throat. “Your prometido is joking,” he said, in lightly accented English. “Of course, this is legal. But I’m guessing you are in a hurry…?” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

  “Yes!” they both replied.

  For Cass, the ceremony passed in a blur with Trigger having to clear his throat to prompt her when to respond. At last, he turned toward her, embraced her, and dipped her low to give her a kiss. “You’re mine now,” he said as he straightened wit
h her in his arms.

  They thanked the man in the gray suit who promised to deliver the finalized documents to the hotel desk clerk that afternoon.

  Cass could barely hold in her joy. She picked up the long skirt of her wedding dress and ran laughing toward the surf. “We did it! We actually did it!” When she stopped and turned to him, she noted his wide smile and solemn eyes. “No regrets?” she asked.

  “Only that our room is so far away,” he said, arching a brow. Then he ran into the water and swung her up into his arms. “I’m afraid this dress is getting wet,” he said, his voice husky.

  “As long as neither of us drowns on our wedding day, I don’t care,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek.

  This time, when he kissed her, she knew she’d remember every detail of this moment.

  One Hot Night

  A New Orleans Nights STORY

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

  Delilah Devlin

  Chapter 1

  Detective Remy Cyr followed the slender woman with his gaze as she made her way around the convention ballroom. That she didn’t belong was obvious. That she was likely a reporter was also, although only to someone trained to observe.

  Sure, she was dressed for the occasion in a knee-length, emerald green dress. She should have blended in well with the other well-dressed women. Her four-inch suede heels teased a man’s gaze to travel upward over lightly muscled, sleek calves. The jewels she wore weren’t fake. They were nice enough they might fool some of the men attending the event into believing she did in fact belong among the glittering NOLA socialites. But her earrings and bracelet were a classic design, likely passed down, not something purchased on a reporter’s salary. Likewise, the clutch she carried was a classic black quilted piece, probably Chanel.

  Remy’s ex-girlfriend had been a social-climbing vlogger, who’d told other women how to dress to get the guy they wanted and would have traded all her followers for that clutch. He should have known when Isabelle had worn sweats and frayed jeans around him that she didn’t consider him “end game material” as she’d called the hapless guys she’d urged her devoted audience to stalk.