Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security

by Carol Ericson

  Amy maneuvered around him and thrust her hand out toward Ian. “Nice to meet you.”

  As he clasped her hand, Ian slid a glance toward Riley. “Good to meet you, too, but Colonel Scripps gave me the distinct impression the lifeguard was male.”

  Riley cocked his head. “Can’t imagine why.”

  “I can.” Ian gave Riley a hard stare.

  Riley turned his back on Ian’s accusing green eyes. “Do you want something to drink while we fill you in?”

  “Soda or juice, whatever you have. I’ll skip the beer.”

  Riley returned from the kitchen with a can of soda and thrust it into Ian’s hand. “Have a seat.”

  Ian popped the lid and then aimed a finger, glistening with drops of soda, at Riley’s hair hanging to his shoulders. “You look like the scruffy owner of a dive boat.”

  Riley pointed to Ian’s dark hair—close-cropped and creating a cap around his head. “And you look like you never left the military.”

  Ian ran a hand over his short hair. “Habit.”

  Amy had gotten herself a glass of water and scrunched into the corner of the sofa, curling her long legs beneath her. “Are we going to tell him everything?” Riley asked her.

  He studied Amy’s face. He’d leave it up to her whether or not she wanted to reveal her personal connection to the events of the past few days. It was her life. Everyone had a right to a few secrets.

  Her dark lashes swept her cheeks and she gave a brief nod.

  “If we’re going to help Jack, I think I need to hear everything.” Ian perched on the stool at the kitchen counter, wrapping his hands around his soda.

  Riley settled on the other end of the couch from Amy and drew a deep breath. He’d tell Ian everything from the beginning, everything except for his feelings for Amy, the way she made his head spin, the way her silky skin felt against his body, his intense desire to protect her. He’d keep all that to himself.

  For the next hour, Riley told Ian about his tussle on the beach and the car chase and the discovery of Amy’s identity and the realization that members of the terrorist cell were after Amy because they thought she had their money.

  Ian asked the hard questions nobody could answer and seemed to dodge around the relationship between Riley and Amy, accepting that Riley could keep Amy safe in his apartment while they worked through the puzzle of where Carlos hid the money.

  Ian had drained his soda long ago and sat fiddling with the silver tab. “There is one option you haven’t explored yet.”

  “I’m sure there are plenty of those.” Riley pushed up from the couch and stretched. “More water, Amy?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Riley swept up his own glass and ambled toward the kitchen. “What option are you talking about, Ian?”

  Ian had worked the tab loose and dropped it into the can. “We want the name of their arms dealer and they want their money.”

  “So?” Riley dropped his glass in the sink harder than he intended and a crack zipped up the side.

  Ian looked up from playing with his soda can and hardened his jaw. Riley knew that look. He didn’t like it.

  “Maybe we can offer an exchange.”

  “What?” Riley dropped the glass in the trash where it smashed against an empty jar. “We don’t have anything to exchange, Ian. Weren’t you listening? Amy doesn’t have the money.”

  “The clients don’t know that.”

  Riley laughed through gritted teeth. “Yeah, right. They’ll find out soon enough. They’re not going to give up the name of their arms dealer anyway. It would defeat the purpose of the whole operation. Dude, you’ve been spending too much time at high altitudes. It’s turning your brain to mush.”

  Ian stood up and crushed the soda can. “It’s just a start, Riley. If your enemies think you have something they want, it can be a bargaining chip. You know that, or at least you used to. Maybe all that sun and surf are turning your brain to mush.”

  “I see what he means.” Amy uncurled her legs and rose from the couch. “If they think I have their money, they might be willing to give you some information to get it back.”

  Riley’s jaw dropped. “You two seem to be forgetting one important fact. We don’t have their money.”

  “Think outside the box for a minute, Riley. You used to be so good at that.” Ian slid a glance toward Amy.

  Riley clenched his hands and stalked back into the living room. “Are you questioning my handling of this operation or my commitment to finding Jack?”

  “Just wondering why you haven’t come up with any options other than hiding in your safe house.”

  His blood boiling, Riley took another step toward Ian.

  “Okay, you know what?” Amy stepped between them. “I’m really tired right now and I have a headache. I’m in no mood to watch a couple of grown men duke it out.”

  Riley let out a long breath. “Nobody’s going to duke it out. We just have a difference of opinion. I have some ibuprofen in the bathroom.”

  When Amy left the room and closed the door of the bathroom, Riley turned on Ian. “I haven’t been hiding in the safe house. I had to kill one of Velasquez’s men when he threatened Amy on the beach. I had to track down her slimy half brother to gauge his involvement. I had to rescue her when some scumbag tracked her down to her friends’ house and searched the place.”

  Ian grunted. “Yeah, I’m seeing a common theme here. Are you interested in getting information about this deal or in protecting Amy?”

  Riley dug his bare feet into the carpet to keep from launching across the few feet separating him from Ian and grabbing his throat. “Both. I’m doing both.”

  “Because it sounds to me like you’re letting your feelings for Amy get in the way of your mission.”

  “You’d never do that, would you, Ian?” Riley crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s why Meg left you. You’d never let your wife come before your duty.”

  Ian squared his shoulders, his green eyes glittering like chunks of glass. “Meg understood.”

  “Yeah, she understood. But she probably didn’t understand completely until she lost the baby and you turned away from her.”

  “Damn you. I was on assignment.”

  “I understand, but she still left you.”

  Ian had lost his cool—a rare event. He slammed his fist on the counter, his voice exploding. “You’re talking to me about my wife? What about your wife?”

  “You have a wife?” Amy had left the bathroom and was leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped around her stomach.

  And the look in her eyes twisted a knife in Riley’s gut.

  Chapter Eleven

  Amy drove her shoulder into the wall, seeking support. Did her past make her some kind of magnet for married men looking for an escape? Oh, right, she didn’t know if Carlos really had a wife. He may have been a completely single drug dealer.

  She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on Riley’s conversation with Ian, but when their voices crescendoed in anger she’d worried about the two men coming to blows. Now the big, strong men, full of fury, looked like guilty little boys.

  All the bluster had seeped out of Ian. He dropped his gaze from hers, running a hand across his short, dark hair.

  Her eyes flicked to Riley. He seemed to have forgotten Ian’s existence. A thousand different emotions charged across his handsome face until it settled into lines of concern.

  At least she didn’t discern any pity. She didn’t like pity—from anyone.

  She shoved off the wall and straightened her spine. “What were you saying about Riley’s wife, Ian?”

  Ian hunched his shoulders and rolled them back as if loosening the last grip of his anger. “I’m sorry, Riley. I never should’ve thrown April in your face like that. Amy, it’s not what it looks like. I’m sure Riley will explain everything.”

  Amy smirked because that seemed to stop the trembling of her lips. “Yeah, like how he gets it on with damsels in distress while his wifey is safely at h
ome?”

  Ian spread his hands in front of him, a helpless gesture from an anything-but-helpless man. In fact, Amy had a hard time believing these two men, with their athletic bodies and take-charge attitudes, couldn’t bring down the terrorists and the Velasquez drug cartel by themselves. That Jack Coburn was one lucky SOB to have these two on his side.

  “Tell her, Riley.”

  Riley seemed to wake up from his trance. He shook his head and rubbed his chin with its golden stubble. Reaching over, he clapped Ian on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. I know Meg never blamed you for the end of the marriage.”

  Amy folded her hands behind her back. She didn’t want to hear about Ian’s marriage, but at least the former colleagues weren’t at each other’s throats anymore. She cleared her own throat.

  “She didn’t, but I did. You had it dead right.” Ian shrugged off Riley’s hand and walked toward Amy. “I know you’re doing your best to help Jack, but you don’t have anything to prove. What happened to April wasn’t your fault, but you owe Amy the truth. Give her a chance to help you, Riley. She’s not April.”

  Amy’s mouth went dry, and she dropped her chin to her chest. What had happened to Riley’s wife?

  Ian took her hand. “You’re an amazing woman, Amy. Riley’s met his match.”

  Riley scooped in a big breath. “I will tell her as soon as you give us a little privacy. I’ve spilled my guts in front of you enough already. And you’d better savor that apology because it’ll be another millennium before you hear another one out of me.”

  “I know that.” Ian squeezed Amy’s hand. He whispered, “Give him a chance to explain, Amy. Give him a chance.”

  When Ian shut the front door behind him, Riley stood with his back to her. His shoulders heaved before he turned around.

  “I’m sorry.” He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “That’s twice in one night.”

  Despite his easy words, Riley crossed his arms, digging his fingers into his bunched biceps.

  Amy clutched her hands in front of her just as hard. “What happened to April?”

  “I killed her.”

  Tilting her head, Amy raised one eyebrow. She didn’t realize Riley had the capacity for so much melodrama. He had a lethal side, but she knew he’d never hurt a woman. Her next words almost stalled in her throat. “She’s dead?”

  He nodded. “April was my wife and she’s dead.”

  Amy uprooted her feet from the carpet and almost tiptoed to Riley’s side. Now she felt like a fool, a monster, really, for being jealous of a dead woman.

  “How’d it happen?” She caressed his forearm—as hard as steel to match the blue steel of his eyes.

  He blinked, the knuckles on his hand turning white and the veins popping on his corded arm. “She came to me for protection and I failed her.”

  Grabbing his hand, she pulled him away from the door and led him to the couch. She leveled her palms on his chest and pressed firmly. “Sit.”

  He sank to the couch, his knees bumping the coffee table. “I didn’t want to tell you about April. I wanted to keep you safe, not scare you away.”

  “You have kept me safe. I would’ve been toast without you.” She rubbed a circle on his back, her hand skimming across hard slabs of muscle and tension. “Tell me what happened to April.”

  Riley dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. “April was from a wealthy family, the daughter of a politician. She’d had an easy life filled with easy opportunities and luxuries. She worked as a reporter and went along with her father to Iraq on a junket. That’s where we met.”

  “You saw her in that dangerous setting and you wanted to protect her forever.”

  “I’m that transparent, huh?” He turned his head, plowing fingers through his hair.

  Brushing the hair from his forehead, she whispered, “That honorable.”

  “I figured out quickly we’d made a mistake. She not only feared the atmosphere in Iraq but everywhere else—Italy, where we went on our honeymoon, and even San Francisco, where we’d settled between my assignments.”

  “She’d become accustomed to being well guarded all her life?”

  “Something like that—secret service, boarding schools, the works. When I’d leave her for missions, she’d call constantly, distracting me, making me feel guilty and miserable. She saw me not so much as a husband, but her own personal bodyguard.”

  “I know the feeling.” She rubbed her hand along his thigh. “You do inspire that kind of confidence in a girl.”

  “It didn’t quite work out that way. April imagined carjackers on every corner and peeping toms at every window. She didn’t want to stay alone anymore and became convinced that she’d be safe only with me...even if that meant in Iraq.”

  Amy widened her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand. “She went back to Iraq?”

  “Yes. And it was even less safe than before. She wasn’t part of a large delegation of U.S. politicians this time.”

  “D-did you invite her to come out?”

  “No.” Riley smacked his palms on the coffee table. “She surprised me, used her connections to come out and faked an assignment. I was too busy at the time to send her right back home. I left her at what I thought was a safe hotel, but I should’ve known. Nothing is safe in Iraq.”

  “She felt safe with you, wherever that led her.” She covered one of his large, rough hands with her own. “I can understand that.”

  “It’s the opposite.” Riley raked a hand through his hair. “Terrorists drove a car bomb into that hotel and fifteen people died, including April.”

  Amy sucked in a breath. April had been irrational following Riley to Iraq. Did she really believe she’d be safer in some hotel in Iraq than her upper-middle-class neighborhood in San Francisco?

  She studied Riley’s hard profile. She could understand April’s compulsion to follow this man to the ends of the earth. April may have told Riley she felt safer with him, but maybe she just couldn’t let her husband out of her sight.

  Amy wouldn’t be able to, if he belonged to her.

  With a tight throat, she murmured, “It’s not your fault, Riley. You didn’t ask her to join you.”

  “But she did, and I didn’t act quickly enough to send her back. Her closeness to me killed her. I’m a walking, living, breathing disaster area. Look at you.”

  “What?” She jerked her head, and her hair swept across their clasped hands. “I am not in danger because of you.”

  He slipped his hand from hers and massaged his temple. “I can’t help thinking I’m bringing this all down on you. If I’d never landed on your beach, you’d be packing up for EMT school right now.”

  “That’s just dumb. You didn’t land on my beach. You followed a drug dealer to my beach, which had been chosen specifically because I worked there. My own crazy background catapulted me into this mess, and if you hadn’t come along when you did, I’d be dead.” She cupped his lean jaw with one hand. “So stop blaming yourself for my situation and maybe you’ll eventually stop blaming yourself for your wife’s death.”

  He closed his eyes. “April wasn’t the only one who died. She was pregnant.”

  Amy’s nose stung with tears as she trailed her thumb across Riley’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

  Riley continued in a low voice, his eyes still closed. “I accused Ian of putting his job before his wife, but I did the same. April and I had discussed having kids, but I told her I wasn’t ready. In fact, I’d started doubting the relationship would last much longer. She got pregnant anyway, but I never had to get used to the idea of becoming a father. I didn’t have the chance.”

  He carried the guilt of his wife’s death along with that of his unborn baby, as if his doubts about the marriage and his unwillingness to have children had contributed to the tragedy.

  “Riley.” She ran the pad of her thumb along his cheekbone. “Let go of the guilt.”

  His eyelids flew open and he grabbed her hands.
“I’m not putting my job ahead of you, Amy. I’m not using you as some kind of bargaining chip with a bunch of thugs. Ian and his options can go to hell.”

  “We’ll find the money. Once we do, maybe we can make our own deal with the arms merchant, a deal that could lead to information about Jack. We’ll start fresh tomorrow.”

  Riley groaned. “God, what time is it? After everything you’ve endured today, I’m keeping you awake with my self-pitying story.”

  “There you go again.” She kissed his rough cheek. “You don’t need to look after me twenty-four hours a day. I can stand on my own two feet. I wouldn’t be here right now if I couldn’t.”

  He cupped the back of her head, entwining his fingers in her hair. “You’re nothing like April, Amy, and God help me, I feel guilty about that, too.”

  “April made her choices. We all do.” She tugged at his hand. “Let’s get some sleep so we can brainstorm tomorrow. I think if Carlos did leave the money with me, he left it at my rental house. That makes the most sense since he returned there after dropping the drugs at the beach. Otherwise, why come back to my place?”

  Riley followed her to the bedroom, resting a hand on her hip. “That occurred to me, but someone made a thorough search of your place and came up empty. They wouldn’t have tracked you down to the beach house if they’d found anything.”

  “Who knows if they searched the house completely? They don’t even know what they’re looking for.”

  “Neither do we.”

  Amy spun around and put two fingers to his lips. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

  Riley captured her hand and placed a kiss on the center of her palm, his eyes alight with desire. She didn’t know what Riley wanted, but she may have already found what she was looking for in the arms of this protective man.

  Could she hold on to him when the danger dissipated? Would she want to?

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Amy sat cross-legged on the floor of Riley’s small apartment, balancing a notebook on her knees and tapping the end of her nose with a pencil. “We searched the entire house for a big bag of money, right? If Carlos didn’t leave the money itself, he must’ve left a means to access it.”