The Stealth Warrior: Navy SEAL Romance 2.0

by Checketts, Cami

  The waiter brought her another daiquiri that tasted much better than the last one. She sipped it slowly and listened to William talk about himself again, something about his business. The man sure liked to prattle on. She responded just enough to keep William going, and let herself think about Creed and the way he’d looked in his swim trunks. Wowzas. How was a girl supposed to resist a man like that? She tamped down her attraction. She would resist him because he was a judgmental idiot who didn’t love her. She wondered what kind of a job he was doing here. He’d told her he was in private security or some baloney at the gym. Why couldn’t he even talk to her anymore?

  A long time seemed to pass, and Kiera continued to sip her drink. Looking down, she was surprised that it was half gone, and her head felt like it was no longer attached to her body for some odd reason.

  The waiter finally brought their salads, but Kiera wasn’t hungry anymore. Her head was cloudy, and her stomach was swimming.

  “All the other restaurants’ service has been a lot quicker,” Kiera said.

  “I don’t mind. I get to be with a beautiful woman longer,” William said.

  “Smooth talkerer.” Kiera shook her head. Had her words just slurred? She felt like she was floating.

  All the restaurants were open air with a roof to shelter from the rain or sun but no walls. Latin music floated in from the cabana outside of the steakhouse. She’d noticed couples dancing when she walked in, and a bar was close by. A lot of single men seemed to be hanging out at that bar. She swayed to the music, and William’s eyes gleamed. He extended a hand. “Do you want to go dance before our meals come?”

  Kiera accepted his hand, dancing was something she could do, and food didn’t sound appealing right now. He pulled her to her feet, and she swayed. “Whoo. I’m a little unsteady tonight.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry, beautiful. I’ll hold you up.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in tight, escorting her through the restaurant, past the bar, and out to the dancing area.

  They started dancing, and though her head was all out of whack and her body felt like it was floating, Kiera continued. It was more ingrained in her than walking.

  * * *

  Creed got notifications at close to the same time that Kiera and the duke had left their rooms. He forced himself to follow the duke. When Gunthry met up with Kiera at the dimly-lit steakhouse, Creed’s stomach tumbled, and the muscles in his neck and arms tightened. By tomorrow night, River should be here with help. Could he really wait that long? He’d seen a few men lingering around or watching the duke at times, but he didn’t think there were a dozen like Sutton feared. He could take them out, hogtie the duke and leave him in Kiera’s spare bedroom until River got here. Then he could have Kiera all to himself. He almost smiled remembering her feisty response to him telling her not to disobey him. “Watch me.” He had to admire her spice though there was nothing cute about the duke being that close to her. He should’ve told her exactly what Gunthry was capable of. It didn’t matter that she’d ditched Creed and their love. Kiera still wouldn’t run into this scum-bag’s arms if she knew a hundredth of what he was capable of. Maybe she would do something smart tonight like go to the bathroom and Creed could intercept. If not, he might fail Sutton tonight if Gunthry tried anything on Kiera.

  Time ticked by slowly as he sat at a low, almost hidden table in the darkened bar next to the restaurant and listened to the music from the dancing area and watched Kiera and the duke as they talked, sipped drinks, and waited for their food. He noted a few men in the shadows of the restaurant that he wanted to keep an eye on.

  He turned his back to respond to the bartender, who had brought him another drink. The man had been quiet and discreet about Creed ordering coconut water in a martini glass. Of course, palming the guy a twenty hadn’t hurt.

  When he turned back around, Kiera and the duke were walking his direction. The duke’s nasty hands were all over Kiera, and she was leaning heavily on him. Where were they going? They hadn’t eaten. His protective instincts fired, and he knew he could take on whatever dozen men the duke had hidden if it meant protecting Kiera from going back to the slimeball’s room. Would she really do that? Had she strayed so far from the girl Creed had dated and loved for eight years?

  Creed couldn’t think about it right now. He turned slightly as they approached him, but he was in deep shadow and neither of them looked his direction. They walked toward the dance floor and started dancing. Creed was glad he hadn’t eaten, or he would’ve really been nauseated. How could she cling to the duke like that? The duke was grinning broadly as they danced much too close for Creed’s liking. Kiera shouldn’t be pressing herself against him. It was sickening. Creed’s hackles rose, and he stood. He couldn’t wait any longer.

  As he strode toward them, he promised himself he would listen to Sutton. Somewhat. He wouldn’t underestimate the duke, but when he killed the man with his bare hands, there wouldn’t be anything left for his henchmen to protect.

  Suddenly, Gunthry pulled a phone from his pocket, held it to his ear, and walked away from Kiera. Creed turned and pretended to be dancing with a couple who were bee-bopping around. They looked at him strangely, but he smiled and mouthed, “Sorry, one minute.” That was all he needed.

  The duke walked right behind him. Creed wanted to go grab Kiera right now, but he followed the duke slowly. The man crossed through the section of pools closest to the beach, talking on his phone the entire time. He entered the seventh building. It was where Gunthry’s suite was so Creed hoped that he was going back to his room for some reason. A couple of well-built men followed Gunthry. Creed forced himself to wait until his phone buzzed, and he had confirmation of Gunthry entering his suite. Gunthry had better stay there if he wanted to see tomorrow.

  Turning back, Creed saw a small grouping of men on the dance floor, and right in the middle of them, moving her beautiful body in a way nobody but Creed should ever see was … “Kiera.” It came out as a growl, and now, nothing was holding him back. The duke may have left men to watch over his date, but Creed didn’t care. He pushed off the concrete and sprinted across the short distance back to the dance floor.

  The men were cheering and whistling and some of them were reaching out to touch her as Kiera danced, looking unsteady on her feet, which was something he’d never seen Kiera look. Creed burst through the circle, pushing two men out of his way and sending them sprawling to the ground.

  “Kiera!” he yelled.

  She turned to him, and her lip went out in a pout. Her eyes were cloudy, and she was definitely tipsy. What in the world? His Kiera didn’t drink. Apparently, this new Kiera did.

  One of the men he’d knocked down jumped up and launched himself at Creed. Creed grinned, lashed out with a side kick, and the man went flying. Someone came at him from behind and jumped onto his back. Creed whirled with the man clinging to his neck, and the man’s legs flung out and struck two other guys.

  Creed popped his head back, and the man screamed and flew off of him. He hit one dude with two jabs that downed him then put another in a chokehold and used him to take out the next guy who came at him. He had no clue if any of these losers were the duke’s men or just idiots who wanted to ogle Kiera, but it felt so good to finally be fighting he didn’t question it.

  A roundhouse, a jab, two uppercuts, and a few well-placed kicks later and he had four men laying at his feet and others staring warily at him, some with future bruises, split lips, and bloody noses.

  “You want to look at my girl some more?” He glowered at the men who were still standing. As one, they lifted their hands and backed away.

  “She’s all yours, buddy,” one of the guys said.

  Kiera swayed on her feet and looked about ready to collapse. She blinked up at him so trusting and full of love. “Creed?” she asked as if she hadn’t seen him in months and didn’t know that he was even in the same country.

  Creed put a hand under her back and bent to put one under her l
egs. He swooped her off her feet and stormed through the crowd that had gathered to watch. No one stopped them. He rushed along a walkway parallel to the middle pool section but more in the shadows. If the duke came back, Creed didn’t want him knowing who had taken Kiera. Luckily, the duke’s men had tailed their boss.

  Looking up at him, she touched his face and whispered, “You’re really here.”

  “Of course I’m here.”

  Was she completely plastered? She was acting really off. Her breath smelled like sugar and alcohol, he’d watched her down a specialty drink, and she was acting like some of his high school buddies acted when they drank too much.

  “I hated mighty Hawk for deserting me.” She laid her head in the crook of his neck and sighed. “But you long-lost loved and came for me.” Her words were slurred, and she wasn’t making much sense. He hadn’t deserted her. She’d betrayed him. He couldn’t think about that right now. He made it to her elevator, the west end of the third building, and pushed the penthouse button with his elbow. They ascended the elevator with her still holding onto his neck, but she said nothing. Creed wondered if she had fallen asleep. Did Gunthry spike her drink or had she willingly consumed this much alcohol?

  “I need your key, love,” he said when they exited the elevator and arrived at her door.

  Kiera stirred and pulled a key from her bra. Creed blew out a breath as he took it. He was going to have to fight hard to stay in control tonight, but there was no way he was kissing her when she was out of her head.

  He slid the key over the look, and it clicked open. Cradling her close with one arm he maneuvered around and opened the door with his other hand. Setting the key on the counter, he walked into the dimly lit room and sank onto the couch with her in his arms. She settled against his chest like she belonged there. How he wished that were true.

  He peered down at her. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing evenly. “Kiera? Kiera?”

  Her eyes slowly opened, and she gazed up at him. “Creed?” She smiled so sweetly, so happily. “You’re here.”

  “I’m here, love.” His watch and phone both buzzed, signaling the duke had left his room. Creed ignored the warning. He was ninety-nine percent sure the duke wouldn’t vacate the property and disappear tonight. Kiera’s safety was the new primary goal, and Creed wasn’t leaving her right now. “Are you okay?”

  “Don’t feel so hot but is okay. You’re here now.”

  Had Kiera changed so much that she would drink herself into this state or had the duke spiked her drink without her knowing? Why would Gunthry do that? Creed’s jaw tightened. The why was too easy, the man planned to have his way with her. Creed was so done with this loser. He prayed nothing was keeping River because if someone didn’t show up by tomorrow night, Creed was going to act without support and the duke would sorely regret coming onto Kiera.

  Kiera released her hold on his neck and reached up, trailing her fingers along his cheek and then down along his neck. His stomach swirled with heat. She was too beautiful, too close. “My handsome Creed. My favorite man in the whole wide world,” she drawled out. “You finally came back to me.”

  Creed nodded, his throat thickening. Was it possible that Kiera still loved him? She was out of her head right now, so he really couldn’t let himself get too invested in what she was saying or the fact that he was holding her. Yet he had no plans of letting her go.

  “Why don’t you kiss me?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him, and even though she wasn’t herself, she was as alluring as ever. Creed slowed his breathing down. He remembered those months of imprisonment, being tortured and refusing to give them anything more than his rank.

  He glanced over Kiera’s beautiful face and body. The way she felt so soft yet firm in his arms. She wanted him to kiss her. How could resisting her be harder than holding his tongue through torture?

  Creed shook his head. No matter how badly he wanted to kiss her, he couldn’t allow himself to. He wouldn’t kiss her when she was obviously drunk.

  He gently pushed her head down to his chest and held her tight. “Why don’t you rest?”

  “I am tired.” She wrapped her arms around his neck again and cuddled in. “We’re the perfect fit, right?”

  “Right.” Creed took her words like a punch from Bridger to the gut. He and Kiera used to be the perfect fit. Now Kiera didn’t seem to care about the love they once treasured. He wanted to savor holding her close like this, but it wasn’t real, and it wasn’t going to last. As soon as she slept off the alcohol that was in her system, she would give him her sassy attitude and pull away from him again. And he would let her because she wasn’t his Kiera anymore. Not after what she’d done.

  A loud rap came at the door. Kiera startled in his arms and looked at him with wide eyes. “Hello!” She called out much too loudly.

  “Kiera?” It was the duke’s voice, and Creed’s stomach tightened. At least he didn’t have to guess where Gunthry was. Kiera’s loose tongue worried him though. She was likely to say anything. Then again, maybe he’d get the chance to kill the man right now.

  “Hi!” Kiera yelled. “Sorry I can’t get the door. I’m sleeping with—” Creed clamped his hand over her mouth and shook his head.

  Kiera’s eyes got even wider.

  “Say you’re going to bed. Don’t tell him I’m here,” Creed whispered, still holding her mouth tight.

  “Kiera?” The duke called again. “Do I need to get some help?”

  Kiera nodded slightly to Creed, looking like a little child who didn’t understand anything that was going on. He removed his fingers.

  “I don’t feel well. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She practically screamed each sentence, and Creed thought if the duke hadn’t been involved in getting her drunk and had a shred of decency, he probably would think she needed help.

  “I could come sit with you.”

  “No.” Kiera called out. “Good night!”

  Creed put his finger over his lips and then carefully lifted her off of his lap and onto the sofa. He crept to the door and watched through the peep hole. The duke stood there for a few seconds. Then he signaled someone with his head and strode away. Creed made out a few shadows following him. He waited until they were in the elevator, and the door slid closed. Then he dead-bolted Kiera’s door and brought a kitchen chair over to jam underneath it. Something wasn’t right about the duke bringing his men to Kiera’s door. If he wanted to sleep with her, wouldn’t he come alone?

  Creed tried not to overanalyze the duke’s intentions. Losers like that probably did bring someone to watch over them at all times.

  Kiera was sitting on the sofa with her head laid back against the cushions. He needed to hold her. He hoped he would be strong enough to resist her tonight. No. Creed would never. Under any circumstances. Never ever ever. There was no hope about it. It would be torture, but he wasn’t doing more than putting an arm around her when she was drunk.

  He waited a few more minutes until his phone and watch buzzed and he saw the duke enter his suite. Nobody went in with him. Did his men have rooms nearby? Creed would need to be more diligent tomorrow and figure that out.

  Tonight, he planned to stay close to Kiera, unless fate really hated him and the duke left his suite again. Creed walked to the couch and bent down, lifting her into his arms. Her eyes fluttered open, and she said all delighted, “Creed! You didn’t ditch me.”

  Creed pushed out a breath. They really needed to talk, but that wasn’t happening tonight. He carried her into the master suite and settled her onto the mattress and pillows. Slipping her shoes off, he stared down at her. Her pale blue dress accentuated her beautiful brown skin and fit body. Her dark hair contrasted with the white pillow. How he wanted to simply run his fingers through it.

  He turned to walk away, but Kiera’s hand brushed his arm. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

  Creed stopped. His tight rein on his self-control was slipping. He glanced back at her. She was staring
at him steadily, almost as if she weren’t out of her head. “Please, Creed.”

  His throat was too dry and tight to respond. He finally nodded.

  She smiled and closed her eyes again. Creed slipped his shoes off and climbed onto the king bed next to her. She snuggled back against him, and he slid one arm under where the pillow met her neck and his other arm around her waist.

  “Thank you for not deserting me again,” she whispered. Then she sighed and seemed to drift off to sleep that quickly.

  Deserting her? That hit low in the gut. He’d been captured and tortured, barely escaping with his life, and she called that desertion? She was delusional, rambling. He couldn’t hold her accountable for anything tonight.

  Creed didn’t know if sleep would come. He cradled Kiera close and tried to shut his eyes, but he couldn’t shut out the electrifying feeling of having her in his arms. It stirred something deep within him. He could easily admit the truth to himself—he loved her. If only she hadn’t betrayed him and somehow thought he was the deserter. If only she truly loved him back.

  Chapter Ten

  Kiera woke with a pounding headache, rain slanting against the balcony windows, and scattered memories. She and William were sitting at the steakhouse, but they didn’t eat anything. Then she was dancing with a bunch of men, and then Creed came in like a superhero and knocked a bunch of heads together before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her away, as if he were her knight in shining armor or something. She laughed derisively, but that hurt her head more.

  “Good morning.” Creed’s voice carried over from the open doorway.

  Kiera clutched the covers around her, but quickly realized she was still in her blue dress from last night. “What are you doing? Oh.” She groaned, putting a hand to her head, talking hurt.

  “Breakfast.” He grinned and set a tray on the table by her bed. The scent of bacon and coffee was too much. “But first …” He pulled out a small bottle of ibuprofen, popped the cap, and poured four into his palm. “Take these, and you’ll start feeling better.”