SEAL in Charge

by Donna Michaels

  “Make sure you submit receipts. The government can pay for it, not you,” he said. “And we need to talk before we proceed any further.”

  “Okay.” She sat down on the armrest of the couch and held his gaze.

  “All I want to do is establish a baseline today,” he said, leaning his back against the mantle. “As well as see if anything feels off.”

  She nodded. “And we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, hence my tourist costume.”

  He smiled. The woman could wear a paper bag, and men would notice her.

  “Even though it’s the financial district, most of the people on the streets are from out of state, making their way to or from the 9/11 Memorial,” she said, unaware that her words momentarily severed the oxygen supply to his body. “We need to blend in, so no one notices us.”

  Drawing in several slow, deep breaths, he nodded, feeling more in control. “We’re on the same page, then. And you won’t be shocked if I grab your hand or slip my arm around you if the situation calls for it.”

  Fishing a purse from her laptop bag, she stilled a second before nodding. “No...that’ll be fine,” she said, slipping the long strap across her body, and it settled snuggly between her breasts, making him envious as hell of a piece of leather. “What about a gun?”

  Gun?

  He blinked, and the heat in his body ran cold. “What about it?”

  “Are you carrying?” she asked. “And do you want me to take mine?”

  He’d considered leaving his SIG in the safe in his bedroom. Today was preliminary shit, so it shouldn’t be needed. Although, there’d been plenty of times that theory had been proven wrong. Hence the reason it was strapped to his ankle. “Leave yours here. We’re not infiltrating anything or sticking our noses where they don’t belong. Yet.”

  She grabbed half of her ponytail in each hand and tugged. He wasn’t sure what she’d tried to accomplish, but apparently, she succeeded because she lowered her hands and turned to him. “Got ya. We need our eyes today, not our guns. But if we do, I’m taking your evasion of my inquiry to mean you’re carrying.”

  His lips twitched. “Something like that.”

  Forty minutes later, adrenaline rushed through his body as they strolled hand-in-hand down Liberty Street. It felt great to finally do a little recon. And, admittedly, it felt even better to hold Sandy’s hand. Archer’s mind was boggled at how something so simple, so trivial, could have such a huge impact on his pulse. The damn thing hadn’t leveled off since they’d entwined their fingers ten minutes ago.

  And the air...Christ, it felt heavy, tangible—charged—around them. Only trouble was he didn’t know if their chemistry was the cause or if something was off.

  Or both.

  “Oh, babe, look.” She tugged him to a hot dog vendor set up right across the street from the bank entrance. “What do you think?”

  He grinned. Perfect. “Let’s eat.” It’d give him a chance to survey the area while they took their time enjoying their food. The last time he had a street vendor hot dog was over a decade ago.

  “What would you like?” Average height, average build, the twenty-something Hispanic man split his gaze between them.

  “Hi...ah...” Sandy stepped closer to the guy and smiled, waiting for him to supply his name.

  The man smiled back. “Rodrigo.”

  “I’d like a hot dog with mustard, please, Rodrigo,” she replied, and glanced at him. “What about you, babe?”

  “Two with ketchup,” he said, ordering his heating body to cool it. She only used the endearment as a cover.

  “Have you ever run out of hot dogs, Rodrigo?” she asked, chatting up the vendor while he filled her order, allowing Archer to study the bank behind his sunglasses.

  No one went in or out. The whole façade was unobtrusive. And most of the foot traffic occurred on their side of the street.

  “Mmm...” Sandy moaned, slowly chewing her first bite, and stopping his damn heart.

  Every part of his body stilled, then some of his favorite parts twitched. Even Rodrigo stilled, and his face was red as he fumbled with Archer’s order.

  Poor guy. The woman was lethal and had no clue.

  He paid for their food, and they walked a few feet away to allow the man to wait on three others who stopped. Sandy stood facing him, and together they ate while they each scanned the area in front of them.

  “I have an idea,” she said, digging out her phone. “I know we have access to the street cameras, but I don’t think it’ll hurt to grab a few still shots.”

  He nodded. “Agreed.”

  She immediately moved closer to take a selfie of them, capturing more of the building and the people behind them rather than their faces. “Oh, wait,” she said in an excited, loud tone. “I should get one of Rodrigo and me.” She rushed to the vendor who stood alone by his cart again. “If that’s okay?”

  “Sure.” A wide grin split the guy’s face as Sandy snapped away.

  Archer moved forward. “Here, let me.” He took the phone from her and stepped back, getting a much wider scope on the shot. “Perfect.”

  “Thanks, babe,” she said, then turned to Rodrigo. “And thank you for the hot dog. It was delicious.”

  He grinned. “My pleasure. Enjoy your visit to the city.”

  Archer moved close and slid his arm around her waist. “We will. Thanks.” After they walked a half a block, he stopped and turned to her. “I think you’re on to something with these photos.”

  For the next hour and a half, they canvased the bank and surrounding blocks in a zigzagging, chaotic pattern, using both of their phones to take selfies, photos with other vendors, and some with the city’s more colorful characters. They even snapped a few with other tourists, all to make it look legit. Thanks to Sandy’s brilliant idea and the way she worked the crowd, he got a good bead on the location and already had some ideas to discuss with the team when he got together with them back in Jersey tomorrow.

  Right now, though, he was more concerned about the bald bruiser with a tattoo of an eye on the back of his head. Three times they’d changed blocks, and the man always showed up. Could be coincidence. Could be he planned to rob them. Could be the guy was someone of interest and he was suspicious of them.

  Could be nothing.

  Whatever the reason, it was time to get a reaction.

  Archer slowed them to a stop near a quiet corner and leaned his head to the right to whisper in her ear, “Don’t be alarmed, but I want to check something out.”

  “The left-handed, bald man with the eye tattoo, and missing right pinky?” She stepped in front of him to play with his collar. “Me, too.”

  Shit.

  He set his hands on her waist and twisted them around so he could lean his back against the building and keep an eye on the guy. “You noticed, too?”

  Christ. She’d noticed a lot more than he had about their tail.

  “That’s why I get paid the big bucks.” She chuckled. “And I’m positive we have several photos of him, so I’m going to start with him.”

  “Good,” he said, eyeing the guy pretending to look at postcards outside a souvenir store across the street. “It’s time we push him for a reaction.” He cupped her face. “Okay?”

  He felt her breath hitch. “Okay,” she whispered, and when her gaze dropped to his mouth, his breathing wasn’t all that steady, either.

  Chapter Five

  Since the two of them had been masquerading as a couple and needed to maintain the façade, Archer knew he had to just jump right in, which sucked. He wanted to savor the first brush of their lips and the taste of her, but he had to make it look like they knew each other’s bodies, and their wants and needs.

  He was relying on their chemistry to help him out.

  Her hand slid up his chest, over his shoulders, and when her thumbs brushed his neck, heat rushed through his body. This time, he didn’t ignore the hunger she induced. He embraced it, dragging her against him as he covered her mou
th with his, taking the kiss he’d thought about for the past three years.

  Over and over, he plundered, discovering her taste, her essence, loving the way she melted into him while her tongue brushed his on a demanding mission of her own.

  His body was rock-hard, and temperature was already at inferno, so when she pressed against him, practically climbing up his body, he shook with the need to be inside her.

  They went from zero to one-hundred-and-ten-percent inside of sixty seconds.

  It was insane and amazing, and he knew it. He knew kissing this woman would be the closest thing to heaven he’d ever experience on this earth.

  Finally touching her, tasting her, it was unforgettable...like their mission.

  Shit. He stiffened and forced his mouth to release hers.

  “Well...?” Resting her forehead on his chin, she panted, her hot breaths teasing his throat. “What...did he...do?”

  Archer blinked the world back into focus and noted the empty corner across the street. “He left.”

  She drew back to frown up at him, but still held on to his shoulders. “You sure?”

  He swept his gaze up and down the block and nodded. “Yeah, he’s headed south on Greenwich.” That damn tattoo glared at him, as if keeping an eye on them.

  “What do you think that means?”

  Amid protests from his body, Archer released her, and when she stepped back, he straightened from the wall. “We either put his fears to rest, or bought some time.”

  Her gaze snapped to his, and she frowned. “Time for what?”

  Blowing out a breath, he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  But he intended to find out.

  ***

  Sandy was in trouble. Dimpled, gray-eyed, broad-shouldered, testosterone-filled trouble. Kissing the guy yesterday when they’d been pretending to be a couple had been necessary, but in a way...earth-shattering.

  At the first brush of his lips, every erogenous zone in her body woke up. And not just the neglected ones. No. Some she didn’t even know existed. They shouted to the heavens, demanding more. She always knew her reaction to him would be intense. It was a given. A fact. Her body had alluded to it ever since her son had introduced them the first time she’d visited Brian on base in Virginia.

  But what really shocked her, had been Archer’s reaction to her. It was as if he couldn’t get enough. He devoured her, kissed her like she was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

  God...that’d been empowering. And had knocked every single thought from her mind.

  How was that possible?

  Wrong question. Why did it matter?

  It didn’t. She had a job to do. Not a SEAL.

  At that thought, heat shot through her belly and funneled to places further south.

  Not good.

  “Oh...I know that look,” her friend and co-worker, Barbara Harmon said, walking into the office they shared, the morning sun pouring in through their floor-to-ceiling window, glinting off the golden highlights in her red hair. “You were thoroughly and feverishly kissed.”

  As much as she wanted to deny it to herself, there was no way Sandy could fool her analyst friend. Like her, the woman made a living out of spotting things others didn’t see.

  Sandy blew out a breath and sat back in her chair. “Yeah. And it’s not good.”

  A smile twitched Barbara’s lips as she sat on the corner of Sandy’s desk and folded her arms across her chest, looking like a woman who just turned thirty-five, not forty-five. “Looks to me like it was very good. And that’s the problem.”

  She snorted. “Bingo.”

  “Why would it be a bad thing, though?” Her friend frowned. “You haven’t had sex in over two years. Before that it was five. And before that, you were married. Your ability to abstain is astounding.”

  Since this was a discussion they’d held countless times, Sandy remained quiet. There wasn’t anything she could add that she hadn’t said over the past decade.

  “You can’t use your son as an excuse to run blocker.” Barbara shook her head, and the sun haloed her highlights again. “He’s living his own life, and it’s time you lived yours.”

  She sighed. “You don’t understand.”

  Barbara snickered. “I do. Only too well...and...Oh. My. God...” Her friend jumped off the desk and slapped a hand to her chest. “It was that hunk of a SEAL in black you left with yesterday. The one in charge of the special job you’re working on. Brian’s former commander?”

  Sandy dropped her head into her hands and mumbled, “Yes,” through her fingers.

  Dropping down into her own chair, Barbara whistled. “Wow. You were right. You always told me the guy was super-hot.”

  She mumbled something unintelligible, because it was all her thoughts could offer up.

  “But...I don’t see the issue, Sandy.” Barbara stared at her with concern in her light blue eyes. “You kissed the guy. You liked it. Did he not like it?”

  A snort shot up her throat. “Let’s just say, we both liked it. But that’s the problem, Barb. We’re working together on a case that has a lot of people’s lives at stake. I can’t forget my obligations to them because he makes me feel good.”

  “Ohhh...” Barb bit her lip and squinched her nose. “He makes you feel good? Do you hear yourself? You’ve never said that about anyone before.” She leaned forward and slapped the edge of Sandy’s desk. “You have to let happen whatever is going to happen. You just have to, Sandy. You deserve it.”

  “Not at the expense of my brain cells, because that’s the first thing to disappear when he’s near,” she said with a shake of her head, before sipping her now cold cup of coffee.

  “You should have sex with him.”

  Even though the coffee had thankfully cleared her throat, she choked anyway. “Barb,” she ground out, getting up to shut their door a little too late. “Watch what you say. I don’t need Dave to half-hear our conversation and pull me from this case.”

  A contrite look crossed her friend’s face. “Sorry, I should’ve shut the door, but I still stand by my suggestion. If you have sex with the guy, then maybe it’ll get rid of the intense craving and allow your brain cells to coexist with him in a room.”

  Sandy couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of her friend’s suggestion and admit that it actually held merit. “But what if once isn’t enough?”

  “Then jump his bones morning, noon, and night.” Barbara grinned. “He looked very sturdy to me. He could handle it.”

  She exhaled and shook her head. “I think it would kill me.”

  “Yeah, but what a way to go...” Barb held her gaze and grinned. “Death by SEAL injection.”

  Oh, my God. Sandy snorted, then slapped a hand over mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.

  It didn’t work.

  The woman was a piece of work, and a good friend. And Sandy would’ve told her that, if Dave hadn’t knocked on the door and peeked his head inside.

  “Mr. Malone wants to video conference,” he told her.

  Already?

  After uploading the photos from both of their phones to her laptop last night, she’d asked if he wanted her to head with him to New Jersey or to stay in the city and go through the photos. Thankfully, he’d opted for the latter. Being cooped up with Archer in the close quarters of a vehicle after he’d kissed her senseless would’ve asked for trouble.

  Silently breathing a sigh of relief, she’d insisted he drove her SUV home—after he visited his mother. He thanked her, promising to bring it back in a day or two, agreed to stop in and see his mom before leaving Queens, then headed for the basement garage where she’d told him he’d find her vehicle.

  It sat there most weeks, unless she headed to Virginia Beach to visit Brian. She never drove in the city, so she wouldn’t need it.

  “He’s already on a secure line in Op Room 2,” her boss informed.

  Ignoring Barbara’s teasing smile, Sandy grabbed her notes and some of the photos she’d printed
out last night, and followed Dave past two agents talking to Amy at reception and down the opposite hall to the meeting, surprised when he didn’t stay and closed the door behind her instead.

  “Good morning, Sandy,” Archer greeted, and her body didn’t seem to care that he was on a screen and not actually there in person.

  It heated in response, anyway. “Good morning,” she replied, unsure whether to sit or stand, so she set her stuff on the table before turning to face the screen.

  Larger than life, he appeared to be sitting at a desk, talking to her through a webcam in his laptop. His hair was damp, as if freshly showered. Little droplets of water dripped onto his shoulder, the moisture deepening the gray of his T-shirt. He had a sexy, five o’clock shadow scruff on his strong jaw even though it was barely half past eight in the morning.

  “So...what’s up?” She rested her butt on the edge of the table and cocked her head.

  Reaching for a coffee mug on his desk, he arched a brow. “You tell me. I got your text to call in and conference.”

  Sandy heart rolled as it dropped into her stomach. “Archer,” she said, straightening from the table. “I never sent you a text.”

  He stiffened. “Get out of the room, Sandy. Now!” he barked.

  Heart in her throat, she raced for the door, twisted the handle but it wouldn’t budge. She turned to face Archer. “I can’t. It’s locked.”

  Chapter Six

  Sandy heard Archer mumble something about Dave under his breath.

  “His damn phone is going straight to voicemail,” he growled at the phone in his hand.

  There had to be an explanation. She refused to believe her boss had anything to do with whatever was going on. She shook the door and pounded on it, but knew it was no use. Unless someone happened to be walking by, no one would hear her. The secure conference rooms were at the end of the hall for privacy. Access was granted through a keypad and the security code changed twice a day. There were no windows, and only the one door to go in or out.

  “Do you have your phone?” Archer asked, grabbing his off a table and punching in a few numbers.