Navy SEAL Security

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Navy SEAL Security Page 11

by Carol Ericson


  “What do you do when you’re not rescuing people from the ocean?”

  “Well, before you killed a guy on my beach, I was planning to start EMT school in a few weeks and try to get on with a fire department in the next year or two.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “Talk about being born to rescue. Why do you gravitate toward those professions?”

  “I never thought of it as a gravitational pull.” She avoided his piercing blue gaze. “I can pretty much do what I like anyway. I’m independently wealthy.”

  He started to snort and then ended on a choke. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “The FBI killed my mother. I got a fat settlement for that, which didn’t start paying out until I was eighteen. My friend’s husband, Cliff, is my attorney, and he’s managed my money very well.”

  Riley whistled. “Maybe Carlos was after your money, too.”

  “I doubt it. He didn’t know anything about my money.”

  “Played it kind of close to the vest with Carlos, didn’t you?”

  “We dated only a few months. I’m not going to spill my guts after two months of dinners and movies.”

  “You told me after two days of car chases and break-ins.”

  “That’s different.”

  He cocked his head. “How so?”

  Amy twirled a lock of hair around her finger. If she had to explain the connection she felt with him, the electricity that zapped her senses every time he touched her, then maybe her attraction was all one-sided. Maybe she’d better quit while she was ahead and not make a fool out of herself.

  “Uh, you know. The excitement and adrenaline rush gives everything an urgency.”

  “Like this?” He pulled her into the crook of his arm, tilted her head back and kissed her mouth.

  Guess he felt it, too.

  Her mouth tingled as his gentle caress grew more demanding. A pulse throbbed in her bottom lip and she reached up and twined her fingers around his hair.

  He shifted, pulling her across his lap and linking his hands behind her back. “I’ve wanted you in my arms like this for a long time.”

  She murmured against his mouth, “You’ve known me for less than three days.”

  “Must be that urgency thing you were talking about.” He pinched her chin and ran his thumb across her mouth.

  “Speaking of urgency—” she sat up “—I thought we were coming back to your safe house to figure out why these guys think I have the money from the drug deal gone bad.”

  “First things first. I brought you back to my safe house to keep you safe.”

  The way her brain fogged over every time Riley kissed her felt anything but safe, but it did feel…right.

  “I’m glad we’re putting off thinking about our problems, because I can’t think straight when you’re kissing me like…that.” She sighed as his lips trailed across her throat.

  “How about if I kiss you like this.”

  He planted a line of kisses along her jaw and ended with a kiss at the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t figure out how such a hard man could have such soft lips. Then she was done figuring when he slipped his tongue between her lips and tickled the roof of her mouth.

  A gasp escaped from her throat, half laugh, half moan. She dug her nails into his shoulders, searching for something steady to hold on to as he deepened his kiss and slid his hands beneath her T-shirt. His palms, calloused and rough, brushed her skin and she squirmed beneath his touch.

  “Is this doing anything to help you think straight?”

  She nipped his ear. “You know it’s not. I don’t get how you can engage in…a flirtation…when terrorists are hunting you down.”

  Technically, they were hunting her down, but Riley had taken her cause on as his own. And that was even sexier than his hands rubbing those little circles on her back. Almost.

  His brows shot up to the shaggy hair falling across his forehead. “You call this a flirtation? I must be slipping.”

  He curled his hands around her waist, pulling her against his chest. Then he dipped his head and possessed her lips as if he didn’t have one thought in his brain except pleasure. Her pleasure.

  Without losing their connection, Amy fumbled with the buttons of Riley’s shirt until it hung open on his chest. Then she yanked at the white T-shirt tucked into his slacks, scraping his flat belly with her fingernails. “You are way overdressed.”

  His gaze swept over her skirt and top, lingering on her bare legs hanging over his lap. “So are you.”

  He staggered from the couch, clutching her to his chest. “Are we going to fumble around on the couch like a couple of teenagers?”

  Shaking her head, she entwined her arms around his neck. “Take me anywhere, sailor.”

  In a few quick strides he shoved open his bedroom door with his shoulder and kissed her again before dropping her on the bed. Without losing eye contact, they both scrambled out of their clothes. Only then did Amy allow herself to savor Riley’s naked body.

  He had the perfect swimmer’s form with his wide shoulders, broad chest, narrow hips and flaring thighs. Amy’s lashes fluttered as desire coursed through her veins. Riley was no accountant or banker or plumber—probably didn’t have one stable, boring bone in his body. But God she wanted him.

  “Done with the inventory?” He grinned, his blue eyes shooting sparks.

  She shrugged and faked a yawn. “Nothing I haven’t seen a million times before.”

  Riley scrambled onto the bed and hitched her around the waist with one arm, dragging her against his hard planes. “How about I rock your world with something you haven’t felt a million times before?”

  Before she could answer in the affirmative, he landed a hard kiss on her mouth—punishment for her sarcastic tongue. Then he laid her out on the bed and used his tongue, which wasn’t sarcastic at all, to bring her to dizzying heights of ecstasy.

  Digging her nails into his muscled buttocks, she panted against his shoulder. “You made your point, sailor. Now finish the job.”

  “Don’t forget.” He cupped her breast in his hand and massaged her nipple with his thumb. “I live in Mexico now. We take things slow and easy down there.”

  She squirmed from beneath the weight of his body and rolled on top of him. “I’ll give you slow and easy.”

  She kissed his eyelids and the bridge of his prominent nose. Although the heat of her passion thumped with urgency, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against the stubble along his jaw and twirled her tongue in the hollow of his throat.

  He hissed and grabbed her hips, grinding his erection into her belly.

  She nipped his earlobe. “Slow and easy, remember?”

  He growled. “We’re in Los Estados Unidos now, baby.”

  He flipped her onto her back and drove into her with such force she bumped her head on the headboard—and she didn’t mind one bit. She thrust back against him, enjoying the ride, enjoying the thrill of having this dangerous, exciting man in her bed and in her life. She’d deal with the consequences later.

  Like they’d known each other all their lives, they reached their climaxes together in perfect sync, noisily, heartily and completely. A matched pair.

  Riley rolled to her side, but pulled her close to maintain their connection. He brushed a strand of hair from her lips, which parted with each short gasp of breath she took. “Too much for you?”

  Narrowing her eyes, she slapped his backside with her palm. “I’m ready for another round.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re fearless in every situation, Amy, not like—”

  Riley’s cell phone rang from the pocket of his slacks, crumpled on the bedroom floor. He blew her a noisy kiss. “Keep the bed warm.”

  He launched off the bed and clawed through his pants to find the phone. “Hello?” His head shot up as three sharp knocks cracked on the front door.

  A tingle of fear raced across Amy’s flesh, chasing away desire. “Who is it?”

  Riley tossed asi
de the phone and pulled on his slacks. “One of my brothers in arms.”

  Amy had dragged the sheet up to her chin and her long, dark hair tumbled around her face with its wide, glossy brown eyes and trembling lips, plump from his kisses. His need for this woman, still unabated, coiled hot and firm in his belly.

  But duty called.

  Ian Dempsey stood outside his front door, and he might have news of Jack.

  Riley pulled his T-shirt over his head and pointed to the phone. “That was my buddy on the phone letting me know he’s outside. Unfortunately, I have to let him in.”

  The strain on Amy’s face smoothed out and she sighed. “Oh, of course. I’ll get dressed.”

  “That’s a good idea because that dude out there is a wolf.” He winked and snapped the bedroom door behind him.

  Riley shoved his eye against the peephole and scanned the tall man parked at his doorway. At least he’d called first instead of showing up unannounced—just might have saved himself from a bullet between the eyes.

  Riley yanked open the door. “You do know this is a safe house, don’t you? You sure you weren’t followed?”

  Ian laughed and pushed his way into the apartment. “Good to see you, too, Riley. Besides we always had you pegged as the careless one.”

  Riley slammed the door and locked it. Then he thrust out his hand. “How the hell are you, man?”

  Ian shrugged. “I’ve been better. They’re calling Jack a traitor.”

  “I know.” Riley balled his fists. “It’s a lie.”

  “You don’t have to convince me.” Ian held up his hands. “This is a big-time operation. You don’t think our old friends have anything to do with it, do you?”

  “Why would they be out here now? They used to be strictly local.” A bitter bile rose from Riley’s gut when he thought about the team of terrorists operating in the Middle East that Prospero had repeatedly come up against. Prospero had almost taken down their leader, Farouk, on their last mission together.

  “Those drugs came from Farouk’s territory.” Ian shrugged. “Whoever they are, they sold a lot of heroin to the Velasquez Cartel for a lot of money, and I don’t think they plan to use the money to open flower shops.”

  “They’ve been linked to an arms dealer here in the States. We just need a name.” Ian paced the room, absently picked up Riley’s jacket, then dropped it.

  “How is that going to get us closer to Jack?”

  Ian spread his hands. “It’s the whole setup. The entire deal is linked to some doctor who was kidnapped in Afghanistan. Jack was hired to negotiate for his release, and he disappeared.”

  “You know more than I do then. Do we have a name on the doc?”

  “No name. It’s hush-hush. We know his sister hired Jack, but we can’t track her down.”

  “Did the colonel tell you I ran into a hitch here?” Riley ran his hands through his tangled hair; they had recently wound around Amy’s fingers as he coaxed her to her climax. He swallowed.

  “You tried to disrupt the deal, and now either the Velasquez Cartel or the client is after you.”

  “Actually, they’re after me.”

  Amy strode into the room, looking a helluva lot more put together than he did in his dress slacks, un-tucked T-shirt and bare feet.

  Ian’s brows shot up and his gaze darted between Amy and Riley. “And you are?”

  Riley stepped between them as if to shield Amy from Ian’s scrutiny. “This is Amy Prescott, the lifeguard from the beach. Amy, this is Ian Dempsey, another former member of Prospero. He was in the Army Mountain Division and leads climbing expeditions now.”

  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 cle
nched 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.

 

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