Stone Hard SEALs

by Sabrina York

  She held on and tried to float so she wouldn’t be too much of a burden; she found she rather enjoyed the sensation of gliding through the water. Maybe, when she got home, her next adventure would be swimming lessons. That was probably the extent of her courage, after this.

  The hulking shadow grew, which Lily found reassuring. The waves slapped them, the current tugged and pulled, but he kept on target, swimming like a guided missile toward the shore. She felt his shivers. The tremble of his weakening muscles, but he didn’t so much as pause. She hoped to God they reached the island before he ran out of steam.

  When his motion shifted and he straightened to stand, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her head went light.

  “Almost there.” His voice was low and soothing, but she heard the strain in it.

  “You’re wonderful,” she whispered into his ear. She liked to think his burst of speed was a result of her praise, but she was probably delusional. He continued to carry her until the water reached his chest, and then he guided her as she slid off his back. She hated letting go but he’d carried her far enough. “Well,” she huffed. “That was exciting.”

  “You did well.” He tucked a hank of wet hair behind her ear. “Come on. Let’s get ashore. Remember to keep your head down.”

  She laughed. “There are no pirates here.”

  “We don’t know that.” He frowned. “Let’s operate as though there are. Be on the safe side. Okay?” He chucked her chin.

  She tried not to glower. She wasn’t a baby. “Fine.”

  “We’ll head inland. Find a place to hole up for the night, and tomorrow the cavalry will come.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” He smiled when he said it, so it must be true.

  * * *

  As they emerged onto the shore, Stone’s every muscle ached. He ignored his fatigue. He knew, if he pushed through it, it would wane and he’d get his second wind. Besides, he wouldn’t relax until he knew they were safe. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d mentioned there could be pirates on this island. As far as he knew, they were everywhere.

  He glanced at Lily; her shivers concerned him. The night was balmy, but they were wet through and through, and the breeze had a chilling effect. He knew her shaking wasn’t only because of the cold. She’d been a real trooper through all this, but now reaction was setting in. The last thing he needed was for her to crumble. He decided to distract her.

  “Well, that wasn’t so bad,” he gusted. “Hardly a nibble.”

  Lily paled even more. Shit. Maybe he should have picked a different way to distract her. Kiss her or—

  “What-what do you mean, hardly a nibble?”

  He looked out over the water just as a fin rose in the surf. “Um. Nothing?”

  “What did you mean?” Her gaze followed his. She eeped. “Were there sharks out there?”

  “Only a few. And they weren’t hungry.”

  Why she smacked him—again—he had no clue. Or he did. But it was a relief to see her lips quirk. “Dang it, Stone. You should have told me.”

  “Told you?” He shifted his pack and checked his weapon. Then he took hers, tipped it up and poured the water from the muzzle. The firing mechanisms on the AKs were supposed to be watertight. He hoped they wouldn’t have to test it soon. “Would you have wanted to know?”

  She wrinkled her nose. Then grinned. “No. But still…”

  He chuckled at her expression, suffused by a sudden lightness. Funny, that was all it took—a grin from her and all was well with the world. “Come on. Let’s find shelter.”

  He led Lily inland, encouraging her to stay low until they hit the cover of the trees. The darkness that had shielded them on their swim was now annoying. What he wouldn’t give for his night-vision goggles, but he’d lost them when he’d lost his helmet.

  Still, he moved as quietly as he could through the scrub, forging deeper until he found a U-shaped rock formation, which he determined would provide good cover.

  “We’ll stay the night here,” he said as he dropped his pack. She dropped hers as well and started riffling through it, pulling out water and food without him needing to ask. He liked that about her.

  He went through his pack too, stuffing a couple energy bars into his pocket. When he pulled out his thermal blanket and a packet of condoms fell on the ground, Stone grimaced. Goddamn Garrett. Condoms were not standard issue for a mission, but it was a standing joke in the platoon. The guys loved to razz him about being a Fucking Monk—literally. A fucking monk. More than once he’d found the damn things hidden in his pack.

  He wasn’t prepared for the effect of seeing them fall out, here and now.

  Thoughts, visions, fantasies whipped through him, all of them with a disturbing result. Though he was wet and clammy and cold, a sear of heat licked him. He shoved the packets back into the pocket and ripped open the plastic bag holding the thermal blanket. He billowed it out and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re wet. You must be cold.”

  He was. But there was still a lot of work to do before he could relax. He tossed her the P-38. She studied it. “What’s this?”

  He picked up his weapon. “A can opener. Pick out a couple things to eat. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to scout around. Make sure we’re alone. With these rock formations, you’re well hidden and this is a defensible position. You’ll be safe. You go ahead and eat. Don’t forget to drink. If everything looks good, maybe I’ll make a fire when I get back. Do you have any dry clothes?”

  She shook her head. “They’re all wet.”

  “Okay. Lay them out. Hopefully they’ll dry by morning. Keep that blanket on. Stay quiet. And…” He picked up the rifle they’d confiscated from the pirate in the woods and handed it to her. “Use this if you need to. I’ll whistle when I approach.” A wink. “Please don’t shoot me.”

  She gave a heavy sigh, but her lips tweaked in a mischievous smile. “I’ll try not to.”

  “Right. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Right.”

  He should go—he needed to secure the area—but he was loath to leave her. She was so small and wan, so delicate.

  She parted her lips just then. Her tongue peeped out. He couldn’t rip his gaze away; it tangled with hers. The moment hung between them.

  “Stone…” She took a step toward him. And he toward her.

  He shouldn’t do this. He really shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled her into his arms and he kissed her, consumed her. A hard, desperate melding of mouths. He never wanted it to end.

  But he yanked away. Shook his head.

  Fuck.

  “I’m…”

  She cut his apology off with a palm to his cheek. “Stone.” A whisper. “Come back safe.”

  “I will.” Before he grabbed her again and kissed her again and got distracted again, he whirled away. “I’ll be back.”

  He had to force himself to focus as he made his way to the beach and around the perimeter of the island. It was much smaller than the one they’d left, a mere spit, and he was relieved to see no signs of habitation…or hostiles. His thoughts kept drifting back to Lily, that kiss, and the condoms in his pack.

  Damn Garrett.

  Knowing they were there was a fucking irritant.

  His main brain knew nothing could ever happen between him and the senator’s daughter. His secondary brain…well, it wasn’t on the same page. The constant flare of arousal when he thought of her annoyed him. He’d never been distracted by a woman. Not ever. But something about Lily Wilson burrowed under his skin, touched him at his core.

  He’d always been disdainful of guys who were blinded by lust or weakened by love. Probably because he hadn’t understood how hard it could hit a guy.

  Whoa. Wait.

  He wasn’t
in love, for fuck’s sake. This was lust. Pure and simple.

  Nothing more.

  But there was nothing simple about it.

  The emotions she engendered in him were a tangled mess.

  Indeed, this pass through the island served as more than a scouting mission. It was a chance for Stone to gain control of his wayward thoughts. To get a hold of these burgeoning yearnings. To get himself back to center.

  By the time he returned to her, he was feeling confident and strong. They were alone here, at least for the time being. And he was going to resist kissing her again.

  If it killed him.

  When the little voice at the back of his mind whispered, “It probably will,” he told it to shut up.

  Chapter Seven

  Lily hated this.

  Oh, she’d hated a lot of things since their boat had been seized. Seeing Pierre die, certainly. The rough treatment by some of the pirates. The hunger. The odors. Sleeping on the hard ground. The fear.

  But this was the worst of it. Sitting on a rock, huddled in a silver blanket, waiting. Not knowing. Was he safe? When would he be back? What would she do if he didn’t return? How many bullets were in her rifle?

  When her thoughts became too alarming, she distracted herself by collecting sticks and dried brush, in case Stone wanted to make a fire, and then she opened some cans and had a bit to eat. It took her a while to figure out his can-opener thingy. She had no idea why it had to be so difficult, but once she got the hang of it, she felt as though she had conquered the world.

  She saved the lion’s share of each can for Stone, because he would be hungry when he returned.

  Because it was dark, and the cans were marked in a language she didn’t understand, it was a strange mélange. Certainly not a dinner she would ever prepare at home. Surprisingly, the canned tuna went well with the mangos. Still…not a meal she would choose again.

  The nuts were far more satisfying. Probably because she was craving salt. Remembering Stone’s admonition, she drank a bottle of water. With the first sip, she realized she was horrifically thirsty, but she made herself drink slowly.

  Then, when her tummy was full, and the thermal blanket did its work, wrapping her in warmth, exhaustion set in.

  She didn’t want to sleep—in case someone other than Stone crept up on their position—but it probably wouldn’t hurt to rest her eyes. A bit.

  The sounds of the night surrounded her. The slap of waves on the shore was little more than a distant whisper, but the island was alive with rustles and chirps. They were soothing. Or, perhaps she was pooped. It had been a very long day. She yawned, settled back against the rock and closed her eyes.

  She snapped awake as a shrill whistle cut through the air. Her heart leaped. Leaped and danced with joy. Elation washed through her. He was back. He was back!

  He emerged from the shadows looking like a warrior of old. Oh, she couldn’t see any details, but his outline was striking and familiar and somehow very dear.

  Though they’d met little more than a day ago, Lily couldn’t help feeling she’d known him forever.

  He hunkered down at her side and studied her. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m…good.” Their gazes locked. Thoughts of that kiss, those kisses, wafted through her brain. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted…more than that. “Are we safe?”

  He nodded, dropping his rifle on his backpack and settling beside her. “For now. Are you cold?”

  “A little. Are you?” A quick scan showed his clothes were drier than hers, but they were still damp.

  He grunted and arranged the firewood she’d collected in the vee of the rocks, where it wouldn’t be spotted. “There’s a marine layer coming in, so it should be safe to have a fire.” He glanced at her. “No one will see the smoke.”

  She shivered. “A fire would be nice.”

  He went through his bag, pulled out a flint and quickly got a blaze going. When she shuttled closer, he held her back. “Don’t get too close. Don’t want you getting singed.”

  She shot him a playful smile. “I’m a grown-up, Stone. I know how to play with fire.” She let the blanket fall and held out her hands, soaking in the warmth.

  “Do you?” He seemed amused. He picked up the wipes and cleaned his hands with one. It came away almost black. He used another to scour his face and the back of his neck, gusting a sigh. “Damn, that feels good.”

  Lily didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She was addlepated.

  Oh, she’d known he was handsome. She could tell from the lines of his face. But in the light of the flickering fire, with all the goo wiped away, he was breathtaking. A powerful, jutting chin, high cheekbones, feathery lashes, and sharp gray eyes. His forehead was broad, his nose straight and long, and his lips… Oh, holy heaven. His lips. Full and lush and delectable.

  All her tiredness fled. She was swamped with the hum of a new energy.

  He was handsome and tall. Strong. A hero. His voice rumbled in a seductive, gravelly purr. He was perfect.

  She’d never felt desire like this. Not for any other man. Ever.

  While she reveled in the fire and pretended not to stare at him, he ate. And ate. And ate.

  Dang, the man could eat.

  When he set down the last can, he issued a roiling belch, then sent her a repentant look. On him, it was unbearably cute. “Sorry,” he said.

  She grinned at him. “Was it that good?”

  He snorted a laugh. “It was filling. And better than an MRE, I guess.”

  She shuddered. “That meatloaf was hideous.”

  “You should try the chicken fajita meal. Now that is hideous.”

  Silence hummed between them as he tidied up the cans. She wanted, needed, to break it. “How long have you been a SEAL?” she asked.

  “Seven years.” It annoyed her that he avoided her gaze.

  “That’s a long time.”

  “It is.”

  “I bet you’ve seen some things.”

  He stilled, his eyes shadowed with memories. “I have.”

  Seriously? She was trying to make conversation. Could he answer with more than two-word responses? “Why did you join?”

  He blew out a breath. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “I’m interested. Why did you join?”

  “Because my father was a SEAL, I guess. I was raised as a navy brat. It seemed logical. And… It’s always been my passion.”

  “Hmm. Do you have siblings? What do they do?”

  Oh dear. She shouldn’t have asked. A dark curtain came down over his features. His jaw bunched. She thought he would refuse to answer, but he said, “I have a sister. She’s a civvie. A writer, of all things.” He gave a grunt, as though being a writer was an incongruous choice. “And I have a brother.”

  “A brother? Is he a SEAL too?”

  “He is. One of the best.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “San Diego. He’s training recruits.” Stone chuckled, but then his expression darkened. “And then there’s Drake.”

  Lily tipped her head to the side. “Who’s Drake? Another brother?”

  He frowned at her, making her wonder if he regretted mentioning Drake at all. “Not by blood, but we grew up together. Our dads were in the same unit. Our moms were…widowed together.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  His muscles flexed as he lifted a shoulder. “It was a long time ago. Anyway, Drake’s like a brother to me. He always was an annoying little shit.”

  “What does he do?”

  “SEAL.” A harsh laugh. “Aren’t we all? He’s damn good, though, for an annoying little shit. He’s been on some very high-profile missions. Awards up the wazoo.”

  “And where is he now?”

  Stone turned away and began going through his pack. “We should get some rest.” He pulled out a plastic bag and ripped it open, slipping out a thin tarp. He laid it down next to the fire. “This will keep the cold of the ground from seeping in.”

 
; “Stone?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Where’s Drake?”

  He stilled. His throat worked. “He’s… I… Shit, Lily. I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Is he somewhere dangerous? Like Afghanistan?”

  “No. Lily…”

  “Where?” Had he forgotten how dogged she could be?

  “I don’t know, okay? He was on this mission, and I hope to God he got out okay, but I don’t know.” He scrubbed his palm over his scalp. “Shit.”

  Her heart ached. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “Right.” He stared at the fire. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Thing is, he was hit. During the raid. I keep wondering, could he make it to the LZ with a bullet in his leg?”

  “Is he very much like you?”

  Her question stunned him. Stunned him so much he actually looked at her. His eyes were wide, his brow rumpled. “Like me? I suppose. I suppose. Yeah. He’s very much like me.” He laughed, as if surprised by the realization.

  “Then he’ll be fine, Stone.”

  Their gazes locked. A flicker of hope blazed in his expression. “God, he better be. If he’s hurt…his mom will kill me. I promised to keep him safe. And I…” He trailed off. His Adam’s apple worked.

  “He’s fine. I’m certain of it.”

  “It’s a dangerous business we’re in. A dangerous world.”

  Lily didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her world wasn’t dangerous in the slightest. Probably because she was cosseted like a prize poodle. Nothing remotely exciting had ever happened…until now. After a bit, she asked, “Have you ever thought of doing something else?”

  He gaped at her as though she’d asked him if he would care to rob a bank. “Something else?”

  “With your training, I bet you could.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t imagine what it would be.”

  “But what do guys like you do, when they leave the service?” You couldn’t be a soldier forever.

  His laugh was harsh. “I dunno. Curl up and die?”

  “There’s got to be more to life than this.”

  “Jumping out of airplanes in the dark and traveling the world? Working with the finest men on the planet?”