Protected by a SEAL: Hot SEALs (Volume 5) (7 page)

She shouldn’t be standing in front of him in what she was wearing at all, never mind having coffee with this guy. She glanced down at her attire. She was wearing men’s style silk pajamas so she was covered, technically. But the fabric was so thin and clingy she might as well have been wearing gauze. He’d be able to see every jiggle, every pucker . . . and damn why were her nipples hard?

“I didn’t think it was that hard of a question.” His comment brought her back to the issue at hand—his offer of coffee.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she glanced up to see him watching her, coffee pot in hand. She needed to answer him. She also needed to go put on a bra. “Um, yeah. Sure. I’ll be right back.”

He reached for another cup. “Okay. Cream? Sugar?”

She’d already gone in the bedroom, but his words followed her inside. Poking her head out through the doorway, she called back, “I’ll fix it myself. Just leave it there.”

“All right. I probably couldn’t have gotten it right anyway.”

Another dig from the brute, thinly veiled as him trying to be helpful. Unable to let this one go, even as she wrestled to get her bra on, she called through the closed door, “Probably not.”

By the time she got her pajama top back on, over the bra this time, and emerged from the bedroom, he was back on the sofa. This time, there was a coffee mug in one hand and his cell phone in the other.

She headed toward the coffee maker. “What is so interesting on that phone of yours? You updating the
Guardian Angels With Guns
Facebook page?”

Guardian Angels, her ass. Fallen Angels more like, judging by the looks of him. She smiled at her own cleverness as she reached for the artificial sweetener Roger had stocked in the kitchenette for her. Maybe she’d hold on to that Fallen Angel dig and use it the next time he insulted her.

“No. Jon’s girlfriend Ali handles our social media. He’s the founder. You’ll meet him today. He’s supposed to be dropping off the equipment I asked for sometime this morning.” He shot her a glance as she wandered over to the seating area with her coffee mug. “And you can call it GAPS for short. Guardian Angels with Guns is such a mouthful. I do like it though.”

His grin deflated her whole dig. It was no fun when the subject of her mocking enjoyed it. He even chuckled at the name, before he lifted his phone again.

“What are you reading on there?”

“Sun Tzu.”

“Sun Tzu, as in
The Art of War
?” Her eyes widened, but her shock at his reading at all, and something without pictures in it, didn’t last long. It was soon replaced by her anger when he acted more surprised than she had.

His sandy colored brows rose above his blue eyes. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Of course I’ve heard of it. What’s shocking is that
you’re
reading it.”

“Eh, you don’t know me very well, so I’ll give you a pass for acting ignorant.”

Again, the insult had rolled off the blond brute like water off a duck’s back. Amusing him rather than pissing him off, which was rapidly becoming her goal—to make him as angry as he made her, seemingly without much effort at all.

He lowered the phone again, probably after realizing she was sitting there scowling at him.

What else could he expect her to do at five in the frigging morning besides sit there like a zombie barely able to hold her coffee mug?

Maybe he thought she’d go for a run like he bragged about doing before sun up daily.

Actually, that was a good idea. Roger couldn’t stop her from going outside if she had her watchdog with her.

“So what are the plans for this morning?” he asked.

He laid the phone on the table in the vacant spot where the gun had been and she was reminded once more what kind of heat this man was packing.

“We have to be to the movie lot by nine.”

He dipped his head. “All right. That’s easy enough. It’s a seven-minute drive. Accounting for morning traffic, we should head down to the car no later than eight-forty-five. Though earlier would be preferable.”

How the hell?

Nope, she wasn’t even going to question how he knew the exact amount of time to the minute it would take to drive to the set. She’d already concluded the reason. This man was obviously an obsessive-compulsive maniac.

But her stalker probably had the same character traits. He or she would have to have, to be able to track her movements, to be able to take those pictures and then know how to deliver them directly to her without being detected.

Fine. If it took one whacko to catch another one, she’d deal with it and him, and his gun, and his smart-ass comments, and all the rest.

She’d also use him to her own advantage. “I want to go for a run.”

Not at this very moment, but shortly. She was still having trouble getting moving and as far as she knew, it was still dark outside those blackout curtains he had drawn so tightly.

A crease formed in his brow. “Um, let’s table that for now.”

“What?” She thought for sure he’d be all over it. Mr. I-Jog-Ten-Miles-Before-Sunrise wasn’t into taking a run? She narrowed her eyes. “Did Roger get to you?”

He shook his head. “No, he didn’t say anything about it. I need to check out the area first. Plan a secure route. Assess any areas that might pose a problem. Minimize the chance of a threat.”
 

Sierra rolled her eyes. It was becoming apparent that everything was going to be like a full-scale mission with this guy, requiring planning to the tiniest detail.

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine.”

“I’m sure this hotel has a gym you can use.”

“I hate running on a treadmill.” It came out a bit whiny.

She raised her eyes to his, expecting to see him looking amused that she had sounded like a child. Instead, she was surprised to see what looked like understanding in his expression.

“Me too. I’ll talk about it with Jon and see what I can do. We might be able to get a run in later today. Maybe at the studio lot, if nothing else. That’ll be easier to secure than the streets outside the hotel. Bring your running gear with you, okay?”

Hating that he’d actually come up with a viable and even creative solution to her problem, because she really did not want to like this guy, Sierra nodded. “Okay.”

His lips tipped up in a smile. “Good. See? A little communication is all it takes to keep us both happy.”

That cocky assumption on his part had any charitable feelings she’d had toward him fleeing. “Oh believe me, Mr. Mann, I’m not happy about any of this.”

 
“I’m well aware of that, Ms. Cox, but my job is to keep you safe, not to make you happy. Besides, I’m sure you have people on your payroll for that.”

His self-aggrandizing made her want to knock the smirk right off his face with one well placed slap. He’d probably only laugh at her losing control. She had to remain as cold and unaffected as he did.

“Just so we understand each other, the sooner we find who sent me those pictures, the better. Because I’ll be more than happy to get you and your GAPS friends off my payroll.”

 
“On that point, ma’am, we’re in total agreement.” His cell phone vibrated, stealing the thunder of any retort she might have been able to come up with before the distraction. He glanced at the screen and then up at her. “We’re about to have company. You staying like that, or would you like to go and change?”

He cocked up one brow as he waited for her answer. That in itself was enough to decide for her. “This is my hotel room and I’ll dress any way I please.”

“All right.” Smiling he moved to the door and unlocked the deadbolt and the security lock, before twisting the handle.

Two men, not quite but nearly equal to her guard in size and bulk, entered through the open door. They moved in sync, like they’d been trained to do so.

One let out a long slow whistle as he looked around the room, barely glancing at her, but seeming more intrigued with the flat screen television.

“Nice digs. When’s my turn for a shift?” The first man asked in a Southern drawl so thick she would have assumed it was fake if this had been a movie set.

But no, sadly, this was her life, not a film.

“When I say it’s your shift.” Rick shook hands with him, and then with the other man. “What are you two doing here?”

“Jon was having trouble finding what you needed, but I was able to, let’s say
procure
the item you asked for.” The second man spoke with an accent as heavy as the first.

Rick let out a low belly chuckle over whatever meaning he heard behind the words that she didn’t hear. His gaze cut to her. “Sierra Cox, this is Brody Cassidy and his brother Chris. Chris works for GAPS.”

Brothers. That explained it. Now that she looked at the two more closely, they resembled each other in more than just speech. They were also similar in their looks, and not just the hard toned bodies all three were sporting.

Muscles must be a requirement to get hired at this
Goon Angel Power Squad
. Amused at her new meaning for his GAPS acronym, Sierra tucked it away for future use.

The one named Chris tipped his head in her direction. “Nice to meet you.”

Brody glanced up from pawing through the black bag he’d set on the side table long enough to say, “Ma’am.” He turned his attention back to a device in his hand. “Let me show you how this one operates before we go.”

The three huddled over the object and Sierra was left to watch and wonder what the hell was going on.

CHAPTER 9

“Thanks for driving this over.”
 

“No problem. Brody wanted to show you how to use the device so we told Jon we’d run it over.”

“But it’s like an hour drive.”

“More like forty-five minutes with Brody here driving.” Chris tipped his head toward his brother.

Brody’s brows shot high. “I learned how to drive from you.”

Chris wobbled his head, but didn’t deny it. “Anyway, we’re fixin’ to head over to the airfield to take my plane up as long as we’re in the area. So we got that fun today, in addition to the introduction to Miss Hot Pants of the Year.”

“Technically, I think the title was sexiest woman of the year.” Brody corrected his brother while all Rick could do was worry she was going to hear them and flip out.

“Keep it down. She’s right there.”

Chris raised a brow. “All the way across a room bigger than my house.”

Brody let out a snort. “I know. Right? I really don’t get paid enough. I get shot at with automatic weapons and RPGs and don’t make probably an eighth of what she gets for getting shot with a camera.”

“Speaking of, I need your opinion on something.” Happy to move the conversation into safer territory, Rick raised his voice a bit now they’d be talking about something Sierra would be able to hear.

“Sure thing.
Shoot
.” Chris grinned at his own little joke.

Rick groaned at pun. “Anyway, she wants to go out for a run. What do you guys think?”

“Go for a run out there?” Chris hooked a thumb toward the window. “
Hell. No
.”

Rick knew it would be risky, but he didn’t expect such an adamant response from Chris.

Brody shook his head. “I gotta agree. I wouldn’t let her do it.”

“Even if I scope it out in advance and go with her?” Rick asked.

“Nope. Not even then.” Brody swung his head one more time.

The discussion had Sierra moving closer. She frowned. “Why not?”
 

Chris moved to the window and parted the curtains with one finger. “Because if it was me, I’d set up my hide on one of the higher floors of that tall building across the street. From there, I could have a bead on you from the moment you stepped outside, and up and down the street for a mile.”

“Yup.” Brody came up behind them. “And if he’s set up on the rooftop, of course he’ll be more exposed but he’ll also have a view of both side streets and an even better shot.”

“A
better shot
with his camera, you mean?” Sierra asked.

“Uh, yeah. That’s what I meant. With his camera.” Brody’s eyes shifted to aim a sideways glance at Rick.