“She’s been seen on the arm of a true American hero, a navy SEAL and son of a Virginia senator. Is Piper renouncing her wicked ways?”
“Or,” the second host continued as more photos flashed on the screen, “is the senator’s son living la vida loca down in Miami?” The photos were of Neil and Piper at the basketball game and outside the Saint-Tropez.
Neil shook his head as the hosts blathered on, speculating how long Pipsea had been together, and whether or not Piper was pregnant as the tabloids suggested.
Did these people have nothing better to do?
He had to admit, being famous—or infamous—was kind of a kick; however, he doubted the navy would appreciate one of their operatives receiving such national exposure.
Surprisingly, he couldn’t seem to muster up concern. At thirty-four, he was at the tail end of his special-ops days. His body was already showing signs of wear and tear. Sharp pain always jabbed at his knees on his morning jogs. Tendonitis, arthritis, a blown disk. And during his last deployment he’d been more tired, had taken longer to recover. A SEAL in suboptimal condition could be dangerous to a mission. And to his fellow SEALs.
But if he wanted to sit behind a desk he’d have gone into politics with his father. He shuddered just thinking about that.
Maybe he could train newbies in Coronado. Maybe.
“So how bad was our bad girl last night?” asked Clay as he took a seat at the table and reached across to snatch a slice of bacon off Neil’s plate.
“She’s not ‘our’ girl, good or bad,” Neil snapped. At Clay’s silent incredulity, he changed the subject. “Where’ve you been all morning?”
Clay gave him a sly grin. “Let’s just say I’ve been busy and leave it at that.”
Pitiful. Bellamy had been here less than forty-eight hours, a stranger in town, and he’d still managed to hook up with someone. Neil, on the other hand...well, he was still Straight Arrow Barrow.
“When’s your flight?” Neil checked his watch.
“Leaving in a couple of hours.” Clay gestured with his chin at the TV. “So you’re going to be a daddy, huh?”
Neil huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, Piper and I are painting the nursery this afternoon.” He kept his smile but couldn’t ignore the pang in his chest. Painting a nursery. There’d been a time not too long ago when he’d hoped he might be doing exactly that. Before they’d married, he and Lyndsey had discussed having children. He’d told her he wanted three, she’d countered with one and they’d compromised at two.
“Right.” Clay grinned and playfully punched Neil’s shoulder. “You heard from your commander? Any PR flack?”
“No. But no news is good news, right?”
Clay shrugged. “You going to see Piper again?”
“Listen, all you’re going to get from me is name, rank and serial number.”
“At ease, sailor.” Clay grinned. “Not as if I won’t hear about it on the news if you do see her.”
Clay got to his feet and Neil scooted back in his chair and stood. “Game of pool at Barney’s next week?” He offered his right hand.
“Unless one of us gets deployed.” Clay clasped Neil’s hand and they grabbed each other’s upper arm for a semihug before Clay strode out of the hotel.
As he watched his friend push through the front doors Neil caught sight of a swarm of paparazzi waiting to pounce. He grimaced. Man, if he had to deal with those vultures on a regular basis, he’d crack somebody’s skull.
Piper seemed to take it all in stride.
Despite the hype, every instinct told him she wasn’t who the world thought she was. Actually, everything he’d witnessed gave him the opposite impression. He’d expected a pretentious, high-maintenance woman, but she’d been completely down to earth. She put on an air of being spoiled and demanding, but he’d seen her reticent and unsure of herself, as well. And she definitely wasn’t using him as her latest boy toy. She’d vanished into her room last night as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
He probably shouldn’t see her again anyway. He was pushing his luck with all this publicity.
Still, there’d been something between them. And the thought of not exploring that bothered him. When would he ever get another chance at an affair with such a gorgeous woman who intrigued him? He got the feeling that if he let this opportunity pass him by he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
Well, no more Mr. Nice Guy. He was done playing it safe when it came to his personal life. Risking everything in his career? No problem. But something held him back when it came to women.
Whatever the reason was, he was tired of being Straight Arrow Barrow. He was the poster boy for nice guys who finished last. Not this trip. He had the phone number of a supermodel. After this week, their lives would never intersect again. Why not try?
He wanted to see how far the heat in her kisses could take him. He wanted to roll around on a mattress with Piper in his arms and hear her sigh his name in pleasure.
With those images in his head, he pulled out his cell and texted her.
Lunch?
While he waited for a reply, he paid the check and headed up to his room to make some calls. But after more than half an hour she still hadn’t responded to his text. His earlier determination deflated. Depression landed on his chest like a thousand-pound weight. He slid open the glass door and stepped out onto his balcony. The breeze coming off the ocean made the heat bearable, and he leaned his forearms on the railing. Waves rolled in and crashed to shore. Constant. Relentless. Uncaring of his petty problems.
Then his cell buzzed.
What time?
Adrenaline kicked in. His heart rate sped up and he knew he was grinning like an idiot. He hit Reply.
Pick you up at 1PM
Phase one of the mission completed, he began planning phase two.
* * *
PIPER SMILED, PULLED her knees to her chest and hugged them. When she’d stepped out of the shower, she’d noticed the text from Neil.
Neil. She wanted to dance around the room and sing a silly song.
Wait. Hold on a sec. Had she lost her mind? Did she really believe that line about him wanting to see her again whether she slept with him or not? She couldn’t help it—simply thinking about him, how she’d felt last night, made her feel...good.
“Ragi, I’m going to lunch,” she called out as she jumped off the bed and strode into the living room of the large suite they were sharing.
Ragi sat at the large, expensive dining room table frowning at a manila envelope.
“What is it?” Piper drew closer and peered over Ragi’s shoulder. “Is that my contract from Modelle?”
Looking up, Ragi crammed the envelope into her leather satchel. “No, just fan mail.”
“Delivered here?” Piper reached for the satchel, but Ragi yanked it out of her grasp.
“The lieutenant is taking you to lunch, maybe?” Ragi asked brightly.
Ragi had never been good at subterfuge. That was one of the many reasons Piper had hired her away from that dodgy investigator’s firm in Mumbai. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Ragi stood up, her smile frozen, her eyes blinking rapidly.
“Let me see the envelope, please.” Piper extended her hand.
“I’m sure it’s noth—”
Piper grabbed Ragi’s satchel and pulled out the envelope. Piper was written in a weirdly slanted handwriting. No return address. She flipped the envelope over, ripped open one end and slid out a note made with letters cut from magazines and glued to the page.
StAy aWay fROm tHe Navy mAN
yoU don’t dESerVe someone LIkE Him
iF You don’t yoU WIlL Be soRry
A chill slithered over the back of Piper’s neck, and the protein shake she’d had
for breakfast churned in her stomach.
She didn’t deserve someone like him?
“This doesn’t have any postage. That means this guy knows what room I’m in. He could be here, in the hotel.” She met Ragi’s gaze. “We have to call the police.”
“Yes.” Ragi nodded. “We will call the authorities.” She reached for the note.
Piper studied her friend. “You aren’t surprised, Ragi.” Her stomach churned more. “This isn’t the first one, is it?”
Ragi’s silence was her answer.
“How many have notes have there been? How many times has he sent these before?”
“I told you, I’m sure it’s nothing. You receive strange fan mail all the time.”
“Ragi. How many?”
Ragi blinked again. “This is the second one.”
Piper grabbed her cell, but froze with her thumb hovering. “What’s the emergency code in America?”
“911. But I’ve already notified the police. They dusted the first note for prints and ran them against their criminal database. The guy’s not very bright or he wouldn’t have addressed the envelope in his own hand, but he’s not in the system.”
Piper dropped into a chair. “So he’s not a criminal. It’s probably nothing to worry about, then, right?” She wanted to believe that.
“The policewoman recommended we change hotels.” Ragi stuffed the letter back into the envelope and the envelope back into her satchel. “And hire security personnel. I’ve already looked into some agencies.”
Piper stared around the suite, feeling uneasy. Having giant bodyguards underfoot 24/7 meant she’d have even less privacy than she did now. But not hiring any personal security might be foolish. How could the creep know what room she was in? She supposed there were only a few fancy suites in this hotel. Staff could be bribed. She should move to a different hotel. No. She should just leave Miami, return to London.
But...Neil.
Even if this crazy blighter was obsessed with her, he was probably harmless so...?
“Don’t worry about it.” Ragi placed her hand on Piper’s shoulder. A rare concession to touching. “I’ll arrange for us to move to a new hotel. And we’ll hire a bodyguard, just to be safe. Now, what were you saying about lunch?”
Piper let Ragi’s attempt at distraction work this time and told her assistant about the lunch date with Neil. She’d make a decision about hiring a bodyguard later.
* * *
WHEN PIPER TOOK Neil’s hand and stepped out of the taxi, she thought at first he must’ve given the cabbie the wrong address. The place looked abandoned. When the cab drove away, and she was all alone with Neil, she hesitated. He was leading her down an overgrown path toward a dilapidated concrete structure.
The creepy letter. The deserted location. Could Neil...? She reached in her bag and closed her hand around her pepper spray. But the note had told her to dump the navy man.
Neil stopped and turned. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Maybe two. Everything all right?”
She studied him. He wore a ball cap and sunglasses with cargo shorts and a plain denim-colored T-shirt that hugged his impressive chest. Over one shoulder he had slung a rucksack that was decorated with a popular comic book hero. And he had on flip-flops. What kind of assailant carried a child’s rucksack and wore flip-flops? And there was the concern in his copper-color eyes. Could he be faking that? “What is this place?”
“Miami Marine Stadium. People used to come here to watch power boat races. I remember my granddad taking me when I was a kid. It closed after Hurricane Andrew in ’92.” He glanced behind him to survey the building, and then looked back at her. “I thought a picnic, a swim, maybe. But I might have underthought this.” He winced. “I was trying for a place where we wouldn’t get hounded by reporters.”
Her doubts vaporized and she pulled her hand from her bag and smiled. He still looked worried.
“I’ll call the taxi back,” he said, and he got out his cell. “This was obviously a bad idea.”
“No!” She laid her hand on his arm and widened her smile. “I—I just had a scare earlier, that’s all.”
His eyes narrowed and his features hardened. He pulled back instantly to assess her from head to toe. “What kind of scare?”
Ah, there was the naval officer in full force. But she didn’t want to talk about it with him. “Can we move into the shade? It’s rather hot.”
After a brief hesitation, he led her up concrete steps and around the corner into what were essentially covered bleachers facing the bay. Checking for her nod of agreement, he chose a spot close to the water but well in the shade and waited for her to sit before setting down the rucksack and digging out a cold bottle of water. Waves lapped against the shore and a breeze cooled her damp temples.
Neil took off the sunglasses, propped a foot on the bleacher beside her and leaned in, resting his arm on his thigh. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Piper opened the water he’d handed to her. She’d assumed the topic was forgotten. “Look, I’m sorry. I had a silly moment.” She crossed her legs and gave him a smoldering look, placing a hand on his knee. “Don’t worry about it.”
He took her in with his gaze, starting with her legs and moving up to meet her eyes. She could feel his desire pouring over her. Then it was gone.
He raised a brow and his mouth quirked up on one side. “I live to worry.”
Annoyed, she folded her arms in front of her. She’d given him her best performance. It’d never failed with other men. “It’s being taken care of. Truly, it’s nothing to concern you.”
“Piper.” He reached out to tuck his fingers under her chin. “I’m already concerned. Tell me.”
She huffed. “Fine. It was just a creepy fan letter this morning. That’s all.”
“What did it say?”
“Neil, I get them from time to time, as you can imagine. It’s nothing.”
“Then, you shouldn’t mind telling me.”
“There’s not much to tell. Ragi’s already contacted the police. It’s that—” She sighed.
“What?”
“This time it was hand delivered. Whoever sent it must know what room I’m staying in.”
He froze and pierced her with a stare. “When?”
“This morning, I presume. Ragi didn’t—”
“And the police are checking into it? What did the note say?”
She shivered, thinking about the message’s menacing tone. “The creep glued together cut up magazine letters—how cliché is that?”
Neil didn’t smile at her attempt at mockery. “Did he threaten you?”
“Not directly.”
“What does that mean?”
Should she mention this part? Though she refused to let some creep dictate how she lived her life, Neil might not want to be involved with her if he knew. He had a right to be informed.
“Hold on, you said, ‘this time’? There’ve been similar notes before this one?”
“Yes.” She raised her chin and met his gaze. “This is the second one since I’ve been here. Whoever this guy is he wants me to quit seeing you.”
Neil frowned. “He mentioned me specifically?” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and jaw. “Piper, you need real security. This guy could be dangerous.”
“That’s what the police said. Ragi is looking into it.”
“Good. And you need to switch hotels. Let me ask a buddy of mine about security firms in South Beach.” He scowled as he took his cell from his pocket and sent a quick text. “Jeez, you shouldn’t have come here with me. For all you know, it could be me sending these letters.”
He was angry at her for going to lunch with him? “It’s not you though, is it?”
“No, but if it were, would I admit it? From now on you do
n’t go anywhere alone. It’s too dangerous.” He straightened, grabbed the rucksack and extended his hand to her. “Come on. We can’t stay here. It’s too isolated.”
Piper didn’t move. Funny, she wasn’t a bit scared anymore. She realized she trusted Neil with her safety. “But I’m hungry. And a swim sounds nice. We’re already here. What’s in the rucksack?”
Neil’s jaw tensed again as he stared at her. Spinning on his heel, he scanned the area, eyes focused. “I don’t like this. It’s not a good defensive position. There’s no cover. We’re exposed from every direction. And I’m not even armed.”
He was assessing their position as if they were in a battle. She appreciated his concern, but— “Neil, this isn’t Afghanistan. It’s someone with too much time on his hands.”
He spun back to face her, his expression deadly serious. “Maybe. But the guy could also be a dangerous psychopath. I’d rather err on the side of caution.” He glanced around the stadium. “I don’t know what I was thinking choosing this place. It holds lots of good memories for me, but—” He shook his head. “I suppose we could move up to the top to eat. That way I’d spot anyone coming before they saw us.” He looked over at her. “But no swimming.”
“We’ll see.” She stood and started climbing the bleachers. This take-no-prisoners side of Neil was a huge turn-on. She smiled seductively at him over her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll change your mind.”
6
PIPER’S PLAYFUL SMILE caught Neil right in the chest. Then she had her back to him and her curvy bottom swayed at eye level. She was wearing short shorts that showed off her long, smooth legs. And the royal-blue lace blouse revealed her bra beneath. Only his extreme training allowed him to form coherent sentences around her.
This had to be lust, plain and simple, right? He’d only known the woman a few days. But whenever he was near her, feelings that had nothing to do with lust stirred in his gut. Words popped in his head like mine. And need. And protect. Hearing about those disturbing letters had made him want to lock her away behind an armored fortress.
Harlequin Blaze June 2015 Box Set: Midnight ThunderFevered NightsCome On OverTriple Time Page 24