RULES OF LOVE (A Navy SEALs Romance) (3 page)

Reinhart had given Beau Shane’s file, which looked almost exactly like his—mission after mission with no breaks between. He wondered how the man handled the stress as they drove off in the Jeep, weaving in and out of traffic until the city was far behind.

The scenery was breathtaking, despite Beau’s disgruntled mood. Fields of wild flowers stretched out on either side of the dirt road as they rumbled along. Flocks of sheep dotted the far-away hills, and the road stretched out in front of them for miles and miles. The landscape was interrupted by an old stone house every now and then, but it only added to the magnificence of the setting. It reminded him of home, and his face darkened. Home was where he should be.

The road began to climb as they approached the rolling hills and vineyards. “Naomi’s house is just around this next ridge, set up on a hill,” Shane told him, pointing up the road. “Clear vantage points for miles.”

They slowed to go around a turn, and the house came into view, three stories of ancient stonework surrounded by a stone wall with an iron gate.

“Welcome to hell.”

Beau glanced at him, his brows pulled together, but saved his questions until they got through the front gate. Shane parked the Jeep as two men walked out of the house, asking Shane and Beau for their IDs, verifying they were supposed to be there even though Shane had been present all week. After a few moments of waiting, the IDs were returned, and they were allowed to drive up to the house. The front appeared magnificently put-together, and the porch was a wrap-around with archways every few feet. The solid wooden doors were open to the afternoon breeze blowing straight through the house.

Beau whistled, grabbed his bag from the Jeep, and set it down on the porch. “So why, exactly, would you call this hell?”

Shane laughed. “Have you ever tried setting up a safe house this big? The windows are only the first problem. Come on, I’ll show you the bitch around back.”

Beau followed, wondering what this ‘bitch’ was until he saw the garden. The description was right—it was the size of a damn football field and filled wall-to-wall with shrubs, flowers, trees, and even a little babbling brook running alongside one of the paths. He counted quickly as they walked to the back porch. There were five different paths, and once someone was on one, you could only watch them for a few feet before they disappeared behind a wall of bamboo or a trellis of honeysuckle.

“Fun, right?”

Beau shook his head, planning hours of work ahead of him to ensure this place was as secure as he could make it. “What have you got set up so far? Lots of area to cover back here.”

“There are four men stationed along the back wall, two inside and two outside. On every path, we have motion sensors about every ten feet, and cameras set up at every turn. There’s also one set up on the roof for a full aerial view of the garden.”

They really don’t want anyone getting near this woman. What the hell does she know?

Beau ran a hand through his hair, wondering how much work he’d have inside the house. “What security is there inside?”

Shane nodded toward the back door, and they walked inside as he spoke. “The two men at the gate, of course, and two more stationed at the back doors. They’re helping fix some cameras out back, the only reason you didn’t see them.”

Beau followed Shane through the French doors and into the kitchen, which boasted granite countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and a stonework floor. He noticed a large bar was set up along with a long wooden table before they passed into the next room. This one was constructed with a vaulted ceiling that allowed the second floor to have a sort of balcony from the grand staircase that started near the front door. The furniture looked new and the couch extremely comfortable, painfully reminding Beau of the lack of sleep from last night.

“There’s motion sensors on every single window, door, and any other possible entry.”

“How many rooms?”

Shane smirked. “Surprisingly, not as many as you would think, but there are sensors on all of them. Her room is next to yours on the third floor, so you’ll be able to get to her quickly if anything should happen.” Beau’s duffel had been moved to the stairs, and he picked it up as they climbed. “On the second floor are the library, office, and two store rooms.”

“Why’s her room on the third floor if she has to walk with a cane? Aren’t the stairs a bit difficult for her to climb?” The question was harsher than he intended, but if Shane noticed, he didn’t comment.

“They are, but she’s a stubborn woman and refused to move her room. Besides, her window has the best view, as does yours.” They reached the top of the stairs and started down a hallway with four doors, all of them closed but one. When they passed that room, Beau glanced in and stopped to actually look. Every inch of wall space was covered with pictures, postcards, letters, stamps, and more. He couldn’t believe someone could take so many pictures of different people and places he hadn’t even been to yet.

Shane walked back to see why Beau stopped and smiled at the amazed look on his face. “This would be her office, and most of those photos were taken by her. Come on then. Need to get you settled before she comes in and scolds us for being late to lunch.”

“So she cooks?” Beau asked as Shane pointed out his room on the third floor.

“Quite well. One of the many reasons the men enjoy guarding her so much.”

“One? What are the others— does she make a hell of a martini, too?” he asked with a sharp laugh as he dumped his duffel on the bed.
Keep it together. You just got here. The last thing you need is this man hating you for being a jackass
.

“You’ll see. So what do you think of your new home?”

Shane walked over to the window and glanced out, checking on the backyard as Beau took in the room. At one end, a fireplace was situated across from the king-sized bed, and there was a rather cozy sitting area by the fire. The room looked as if it was stuck in the past, when the house was first built.

Beau joined Shane by the window and nodded his head in agreement with what Shane mentioned earlier—the best view anyone could ask for. He could not only see every twist and turn of the paths in the garden below, but well past the walls into the rolling hills of the countryside. It was definitely perfect for him in terms of security. He glanced back at his duffel but decided, as his stomach growled, that he would wait until after lunch to do any setting-up of his own equipment.

As they tramped back downstairs, he asked Shane who Naomi was, considering the file revealed nothing except for her job, name, and why she was being targeted. He hinted very carefully at the fact that she walked with a cane and hoped he wouldn’t have to play babysitter for an old woman. Listening to an old woman drone on and on was not something he looked forward to.

Shane threw his head back and laughed at the questions but refused to tell Beau anything too helpful. “Naomi is not your ordinary woman, I can tell you that. She’s been to almost every continent and too many countries to mention and is probably the proudest person you will ever meet in your life.” He sighed as they hit the bottom of the stairs and smiled even wider. “She’s absolutely great.”

“What is the other reason the men like being here so much?”

Shane patted Beau on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll figure that out in a few moments.” He sniffed the air as they neared the kitchen, rubbing his stomach. “Smells like lunch is almost ready. Need any help, Naomi?” Shane called into the kitchen, leaving Beau standing by the table to watch. He hadn’t realized she was right there when he’d been asking all those questions. He wondered how much she’d heard.

He walked past the table and saw the fridge was open, and beneath it, he could see a pair of bare feet, the tip of a cane, and black Capri pants. The voice that answered Shane’s question was definitely not what he expected, and his curiosity about this woman heightened.

“Why, thank you, dear, couldn’t quite reach it up there. Have to stop placing things out of my own reach.”

Shane came around, placing a large bowl of fresh salad on the counter as the woman closed the fridge, and Beau saw her for the first time. He wished he could take back all the accusations he’d made earlier. The woman standing before him was in her mid-twenties, with shiny black hair down to her shoulders and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. When she looked at him, though, they weren’t warm, but cold and hard. He’d seen that look before in other soldiers, but never a civilian. Her tanned skin was even more attractive with the white tank she wore, along with toned and muscled arms that must take work to keep in shape. When she walked over to greet him, she favored her right leg, using the cane to support her left.

“I hope I’m not that old for you, Navy. Think I can pretty much handle myself—well, except the whole taking out whoever is trying to kill me. I’ll leave that part up to you,” she said with a smirk and held out a hand to him, speaking with a heavy English accent. Her smile was bright as she watched Beau move to the opposite side of the counter. “And you would be?”

Beau shook himself out of his daze and took her hand, shaking it lightly. “Beau Savage, Pierce for other purposes.”

“Of course… undercover,” she mumbled so he could barely hear her.

Releasing his hand, she returned to pulling food out of the oven and setting it up on the counters, buffet-style, so the other men could come in and easily get their fill before having to go back out. Naomi hummed as she chopped fresh vegetables, setting them on a platter and bending over to get something out of a cabinet. This must be the other reason the men didn’t mind being here. The curves on her body were hypnotizing, and he struggled not to stare.

Beau admitted she was rather good-looking. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her since he stepped into the kitchen, which caused some parts of his anatomy to suddenly wake up and take notice. She possessed an actual shape—unlike the other women who thought skinny meant looking like a board—with a small waist and full hips which he felt an urge to hold tightly against his body. He almost missed what Shane was saying to him as he continued to watch her, her hips swaying to whatever song she was humming.

A phone rang somewhere in the house, and Naomi stopped what she was doing to reach into her back pocket, but the phone obviously wasn’t there. Cursing, she glanced up the stairs as the phone rang again.

“Shane, could you run and get that please? It’s probably in my office.”

Mockingly, Shane saluted her, then ran up the stairs to find the phone as it rang again. She glanced at Beau and smiled, leaning against the stove, and stirred what looked like a white pasta sauce. When she held out the spoon to him, Beau realized she wanted him to taste it. He sampled the sauce on spoon while she dug around for another. It was far better than anything he’d ever cooked, bursting with flavor and smooth all the way down. She watched him closely, and he cleared his throat, his face warming. What the hell was she doing to him?

“Good, huh? Old recipe I found when they brought me here.”

She hummed as she moved about the kitchen, finishing up the vegetable platters and cutting a loaf of bread. The sight of her having to use a cane to move even a little bit caused a clenching in Beau’s gut as his fists curled in anger. She was too young to be handicapped.

“How long have you been here?” he asked, trying to distract himself from his anger and her swaying hips, forcing his thoughts to focus on his mission and nothing else.

“Three weeks since I lost my home and was dragged to this safe house.”

“They said your other home was in the States.”

“Montana. Moved there from the UK when I was a teenager with my parents so my mom could be back where she came from. My dad was the Brit. Wanted to move back there eventually, but, well, funny how plans change.”

She picked up a basket of bread and tried to carry another platter at the same time but almost dropped them both because of her cane. Beau came around the counter quickly and took them from her. She grinned up at him sweetly, thanking him as he scowled at her.

“You shouldn’t try to do so much with that leg of yours,” he said shortly.

“And you shouldn’t order people around who aren’t under your command,” she snapped back, her smile faltering.

“You are under my command. I’m here to keep you safe.”

“From a shooter, not my own clumsiness.”

They stared each other down. Beau tried to see past the coldness in her eyes, but it was a solid wall. He cleared his throat as he tried to break away from her gaze. As cold as her eyes were, they mystified him, and he wondered what caused her to be like this. Running a hand through his hair, he told her he was going to check out the house and grounds to see how much work awaited him for security purposes. She nodded, and he backed away awkwardly, yelling at himself inside his head to get a grip and get on with the job. He was so lost in thought that he almost ran smack into a wall trying to navigate the stairs. It was then that he decided he needed a cold shower. He glanced back down at her and shook his head.

He needed a really cold shower.

Eddie frowned as Beau walked away, enjoying the view of his muscles underneath his tight, white t-shirt. He definitely looked like the picture in his file, if not better, even if his personality left something to be desired.

Typical, predatory, egotistical man with a gun.