Ruined by the SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 2)

by Zoe York

She snuggled right into him and nearly drifted off, but she needed to put her hair up if she was going to look presentable the next day without an hour of styling time.

  “What?” he mumbled. She wasn’t the only one who’d slipped into drowsy post-sex mode.

  “I have to do my hair,” she whispered.

  “I love your hair. It’s perfect.”

  She laughed. “It’ll be awful in the morning if I don’t put it up.”

  He gave her a weird look. “Did you do that when you were staying in the tent?”

  “No.” She blushed. “You saw the wild child version of me, I guess.”

  “I like both sides.” He kissed her cheek. “Can I watch?”

  Her cheeks grew hotter. “Me do my hair?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re weird.”

  “And you’re fascinating.”

  “Sure, I guess.”

  He followed her into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, talking about nothing and everything while she sectioned off her curls, treated the ends with a coconut oil and shea butter mixture Daphne made her, then twisted them into loose, braided mini buns and pinned them in place.

  Mick was mid-sentence, telling her about his preferred mountain climbing gear of all the random things, when he trailed off.

  “What?” she asked around a mouthful of bobby pins.

  “Any chance I could get you to wear a gold bikini?”

  She laughed and all the bobby pins bounced into the sink. “Princess Leia fantasy?”

  “You didn’t see that coming?”

  She wiped her eyes. Oh good Lord. What a typical man. She pressed her lips together. It just so happened that she did have a gold bikini tucked in her dresser. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He gave her a pleased wink and she stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Now let me finish this, and then…” she sighed. “I really do have to get to bed.”

  “I know.” He reached out and caught her back the nape of her neck, and slowly tugged her toward him. Her hair half-up, the rest flying sideways, she must look awful. But he only had eyes for her, not her hair or anything else, as he kissed her softly. “I’ll get going.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Stay. Tonight. We’ll say goodbye in the morning.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded.

  “Deal. And then I’m going to get out of your hair for a bit, for real. I’ve got a friend in the Florida Keys. Finn. They have a canine training facility and we might have them involved in our executive retreats at some point, so…”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Just for a couple days.” He brushed his lips against hers. “But I like the way you worry about that.”

  She thumped him lightly on the chest, then hugged him tight. “One week. That’s all I need.”

  “Good. It’s probably all I could give you.”

  SIXTEEN

  SINCE SHE WAS ADAMANT ABOUT NOT WANTING ANY HELP, Mick kissed Cara goodbye and watched her drive off the next morning, knowing he wouldn’t see her for a week. He wasn’t even going back to the estate to pack his bag. He had his passport and his wallet. He didn’t need anything else—except a plane ticket to Florida.

  His first stop of the day was the internet cafe. He needed to book a flight and send a couple of long emails.

  When he arrived, the only other customers were two teenagers gaming at the back of the shop, but as he was getting a second cup of the truly excellent coffee, the door chimed and in walked a pretty, curvy woman with chunky blonde hair—a woman he might not have noticed quite so much if she hadn’t stopped and stared at him.

  He lifted his cup in greeting and sat back down at his computer.

  In his peripheral vision, he saw her move slowly to the counter, then lean with her back against it. Watching him.

  He wasn’t surprised in the least when, after she got her own cup of coffee, she sat down across from him.

  “You’re Mick,” she said.

  “I am.”

  “I’m Daphne.”

  Ah. One of the friends. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Is it?” She arched one eyebrow.

  He resisted the urge to laugh. “Sure. Any friend of Cara’s is a friend of mine.”

  “I don’t trust you.” She crossed her arms.

  He shrugged. “That’s fair. You don’t know me.”

  “You seem slick.”

  “I’m anything but. You want slick, you want my friend Will. Now he’s—”

  “Are you going to steal the plantation and break Cara’s heart?”

  He took a sip of coffee as he appraised her. She was awfully pissed off for so early in the morning. And he had no clue what she knew—and it wasn’t his place to really fill in the gaps. Except for the second point. “I’m going to do my damnedest not to hurt Cara, and she knows that.”

  “What about the plantation?”

  “That’s complicated, and entirely out of my control.”

  An uncertain look flickered across her face. “That sounds like a line, I gotta say.”

  He shrugged again. “I can’t do much about that. It’s not a line. I’m just a guy who was sent here to get construction permits.”

  “And how’s that going?”

  “Not well, thanks for asking,” he said dryly as he leaned back in his chair. Clearly he wasn’t getting back to his emails any time soon.

  “So what are your intentions toward my best friend?”

  No more glib answers. Not to that question. He considered it thoughtfully, because this was important to get right. Other than Cara’s mother, all she had in this world was the bond with her friends. This woman was, for all intents and purposes, her sister.

  On the other hand… “Cara and I haven’t had this conversation yet.”

  “I can keep a secret.”

  He snorted. “Okay.”

  “No.” Daphne set her cup down and leaned forward over the empty half of the table. “Really. I just…she’s not tough. Not in matters of the heart. She doesn’t have a lot of experience. And if you’re using her—”

  Jesus. “I’m not. I swear to you, Crazy Blonde Girl, I’m not going to hurt her. I already told you that.”

  “The name is Daphne.”

  “Crazy Blonde Girl seems to fit at the moment. Did you follow me here from her place this morning?”

  She blinked at him. “You stayed at her place?”

  “Nice innocent routine.”

  She scowled. “I really just came here to get online. I live on a boat. No wi-fi.”

  “Likely story.”

  “Whatever.”

  Had he really gotten in a snapping match with one of Cara’s best friends? He took a deep breath and tried again. “Okay… Daphne. What can I say here to convince you I’m really just a guy, sitting an internet cafe, trying to book a plane ticket to Florida? Not plotting any evil seduction plans to ruin your friend’s life.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I’m coming back.”

  Doubt practically dripped off her as she shifted in her chair. “Tell me you understand how important the island’s history is to Cara.”

  “I do. That’s why I’m getting out of her hair for a little bit. We’re…We may have just met, but I have strong feelings for her. And that’s a distraction she doesn’t need right now.”

  “Why?”

  He winced. “That’s for her to tell you. But she’s got a lot to do the next few days.”

  Daphne shoved back from the table. She couldn’t be more than a few inches over five feet, but she still looked fierce. “What happened?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. Yet.”

  She spun on her heel and ran out the door, and Mick closed his eyes with a groan. Not the right impression to make on her best friend. Not by a long shot. And now he had no doubt she was going to run out to Villa Sucre and do exactly what Mick had promised Cara he wouldn’t do: get in her way.

  ~

&
nbsp; “SO…”

  Cara turned around at the sound of her friend’s voice behind her. Daphne stood in the doorway of the ballroom.

  “Hey. So….what?”

  “So what the heck is going on?”

  Cara shook her head, only half paying attention to her friend. She needed to itemize all the rare and historic elements used in the construction of this room. The original twelve-panel sash windows on the east-facing wall, for example—how many buildings on the island had those? “Ummm…” She stuck her pencil between her teeth and crouched down to look at the masonry around the fireplace. She hadn’t had this assessed yet, but it might be original. She’d find a way to write that up, too.

  “Cara!”

  “What?” She stood and turned around. “Sorry, Daph, I’m just in the middle of something. Hi.”

  “What are you in the middle of?”

  So ignoring the question wasn’t going to work. “I’m making a report about the property for the board of directors.”

  Daphne frowned. “In the middle of the project?”

  Cara sighed. “It’s not the middle of anything anymore. The gift of the property has been called into question, and it doesn’t look like we’ll be getting it back any time soon.”

  “That rat,” Daphne growled. “That lying asshole. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  “What rat? Who’s an asshole?”

  “Your…the…that usurper. The tall one with the muscles.” Daphne’s mouth twisted like she couldn’t bring herself to say Mick’s name.

  Cara didn’t have that same problem. She laughed gently. “You mean Mick? He didn’t do this.”

  “What do you mean? I just left him at the internet cafe. He practically admitted he was involved with something.”

  She shook her head. “Me, you ninny. He’s involved with me. And he’s just as affected by this new development as I am, unfortunately. No, the rats in this situation would be the members of my board.”

  Last night, Cara had been upset. This morning? She was pissed. Yesterday’s board meeting had gone so badly because in small part she’d overreacted to their criticism, but mostly because everyone was blaming her for something that was entirely outside her control.

  They’d all acted on good faith when they’d received the letter months earlier from Mrs. Parry’s attorneys. They’d even filed the ownership with the land registry office. Technically, Villa Sucre now belonged to the Historical Society, and it didn’t matter what a court in New York City said.

  Except for the legal battle the Society couldn’t afford if a plane full of lawyers showed up here.

  “You have the sourest look on your face right now,” Daphne said as she came closer and tried to look at Cara’s clipboard.

  Cara snatched it against her chest just to be mean. “Stop being nosy.”

  “You’re keeping secrets. I don’t like it.”

  “You just don’t like being in the dark,” Cara laughed.

  “Exactly. Spill, spill, spill.”

  So Cara spilled. She told Daphne about the board meeting, about the two wills, about her and Mick. She talked and talked until Daphne knew everything and as she unloaded all the drama of the week, her anger, which had been simmering, turned into a full-fledged rage.

  “This is fucking bullshit, isn’t it?”

  Daphne nodded. “One hundred percent.”

  “But we don’t have that lawyer that we need on the board. And what can I do? Tell them they’re all full of hot air and nonsense?”

  Another nod.

  “No.” Cara frowned. “I can’t do that. Why are you still nodding?”

  “Because that’s—”

  Cara gasped. “That’s exactly what I should do.”

  “—Exactly what you should do. Yes.” Daphne gave her an amused look. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “Shush, I’m thinking.” Cara tapped her pencil on her clipboard as she started to pace. “I need a killer report. Like, whoa. And I need to give them an ultimatum. My way or the highway.”

  “Don’t say it like that, though.”

  “Because they need to get with the program. Hello, it’s the twenty-first century. We need to be doing big things, bold things. No more empty, preserved tombs.”

  “I think you’ve lost me.”

  Cara stopped right in front of her best friend and tapped the pencil on her clipboard once more time. “Living history, Daph. Living. History.”

  “Okay. Count me in. Team #LivingHistory.”

  “Oh my God. Yes. Hashtag. Blog.” She waved her pencil in the air. “You’re going to have to help me with that.”

  “I have to work in two hours.”

  “Not today.” Cara shook her head. “I mean, I don’t need your help today. Yes, go to work. I need to finish this up, and that’s going to take me a couple of days, but come this weekend, Daph, we’re going to blow the socks off this island.”

  “Nobody wears socks. It’s a hundred degrees in the shade.”

  Cara scribbled that down. It was good. Then she wrote Tourism Board above it, because there was more than one way to open a coconut. “You’re a genius, Daphne.”

  “What did I say?”

  “Shade. Beach. Tourism. Genius.”

  “Okay. I want a cut of the profits.”

  “No profits. Non-profit, to be more specific. Oh, this is going to be good.”

  Cara left her friend standing in the ballroom as she took the stairs two at a time. Tricky in heels, but her enthusiasm didn’t care.

  “I’m still not clear on what this is,” Daphne hollered after her.

  “#LivingHistory,” Cara shouted back, her face splitting into a grin. It didn’t matter if she hadn’t explained it properly to Daphne just yet. She could see it so clearly now in her head, it was a thing of beauty.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Mick.

  SEVENTEEN

  “TURN RIGHT IN FOUR HUNDRED YARDS,” Mick’s GPS lady told him.

  He raised his eyebrows. As he was currently driving a rental car down the Overseas Highway that stretched between the islands of the Florida Keys, turquoise water on either side, that was quite a trick she was proposing. But then up ahead appeared another island, and crazy British computer lady voice reminded him his turn was coming up.

  Search and SEALs was located on Angel Cay, a tiny slice of white sand and palm trees. Mick figured it was as good a place as any to train search and rescue dogs. The island was small but private, and the dogs set up a racket when he pulled to a stop in front of a group of bungalows. Finn came bounding out of the one labeled “Office,” although Mick had never seen an office with an ocean view like this one. The blue water of the Gulf was everywhere he looked.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you were all-in down on Miralinda.”

  Mick held out his hand and Finn shook it—a rough, familiar greeting that helped settle Mick a bit.

  Just a bit, though. He couldn’t stop thinking about Cara. “Yeah. I am. I’m going back. I just needed to get away for a bit, and the island’s like ten feet long, so…thought I’d come visit you guys. Thought we could talk business a bit, too.”

  “Using Will’s money to pay other people to do the work for you?” his friend poked good-naturedly.

  “Nah. Not doing any construction yet.” Mick cleared his throat. “We ran into a snag. Turns out the estate needs to be probated or something. Gonna delay us a few months. It’s all good, though.”

  Except it wasn’t good, not exactly. It was resolved, as much as it could be. Settled. Done.

  But good? That was far from certain. The Historical Society had invested real money in Villa Sucre, and someone—Cara—would have to be held accountable for that waste.

  Finn frowned at him. “You don’t seem enthusiastic about this new venture.”

  Mick shook his head. “I am. It’s just complicated. There was a woman…”

  Finn laughed as Mick trailed off. “Shit. That’s never a good complication. Unless she’s stacked, in
which case, bring it on.”

  A flare of jealousy lit up in Mick’s chest. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Uh-huh, nothing.”

  “Not just a woman. But a woman. One you’ve developed inconvenient feelings for?”

  “What would you know about that?”

  “All feelings are inconvenient. Talked to Evan, though, about Dex and feelings appear to be making the rounds.”

  “Yeah, that’s some news about Dex, eh? He actually wanted to borrow the plantation for a private getaway with his new bride.”

  “And he can’t have it because…”

  Mick scuffed his heel against the sandy dirt. “It turned out Will wasn’t the only one who thought he’d inherited Villa Sucre.”

  Finn let out a low wolf-whistle and crossed his arms. “This story I gotta hear. Over a glass of something cold?”

  Mick nodded and followed Finn inside the main building. “This is great place. You gonna show me around?”

  “Think of this as a hostage exchange,” Finn tossed over his shoulder. “First I hear about the girl. Then you get the tour.”

  Finn held up two cold beers and Mick nodded. Then he silently followed his friend out to the patio behind the office.

  Mick started at the beginning and didn’t leave much out, except for the parts where Cara got naked. That was nobody else’s business but his. “So I’m giving her some space—to clear out of the plantation, to re-focus on her job and give it all she’s got. She’s worried she might lose her position over this, which is so fucking unfair.”

  “You’re not worried she’s going to loot the place?”

  Mick shot his friend a dirty look. “No. Jesus.”

  “Trust her that much, huh?”

  Yeah, he did. “It’s not her fault that this got messed up. Hell, she was probably right to try and preserve it…”

  They sat in silence for a minute, maybe two, before Finn cleared his throat. “You gonna finish that thought?”

  Mick rubbed the tension spot between his eyebrows. “It’s done and over.”

  “It feel over?”

  No. “I’m not sure it’s my fight, you know? I’m just barely getting my life back together. Trying to make Will and Cara and everyone else happy…that’s too much.”