SEAL Under Siege (Men of Valor) (5 page)

She had a point. The guy had done his homework.

“What about a friend or college roommate or someone you wouldn’t be easily connected with?”

She shook her head. “Most of them have families now, too. And even if it was safe for them, which I would never risk, what about finding the man responsible for all this? Don’t you think I should be close by so that I can help identify him? After all, I’m the only one who’s heard his voice.”

“But you’ve never seen him, right?”

“Well, not his face.”

He cocked his head to the side. This was new. “What part of him did you see?”

She pressed a long finger to her bottom lip before running the same finger down the path of her scar. Her gaze drifted to a point well beyond his shoulder, but he didn’t look away from her face. “It was so dark in that room. But he walked past the door as my guard—the one who dropped the map—stepped inside. I could only see a bit of his arm. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows.”

He leaned forward, closing the distance he’d been so eager to find just moments before. “Any distinguishing marks or tattoos?”

“There was something on his arm. A tattoo, maybe.”

“Could you draw it?”

“No. It didn’t really make any sense. Just oddly put together lines, but it was green, like a classic tattoo on a tan arm.”

“Was he hairy?”

She closed her eyes for a long moment, her eyelids dancing. Wrinkles across her forehead and the thin line of her lips reminded him that this was not a pleasant memory for her. And he hated that he was the one asking her to relive it.

But if they could just identify the American and stop his plot, she’d be free to live the life she should have.

“Not particularly. But the hair he had was dark.”

“So, we’re looking for a man with an unidentified tattoo, dark hair and an American accent.”

Shrugging, she nodded. “Not much to go on, I know. But if I could just hear him speak, I think I’d be able to point him out.”

“And if you get that close, you’d also be in even more danger than you are now.” His tone took on a low growl, and he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of it. He didn’t need to have any kind of reaction to this woman. But the protective instincts she brought to the surface were anything but unaffected.

He rubbed a hand over his churning stomach, catching a finger in the belt loop of his BDU pants.

He needed to do something with this girl, but what? She was in trouble, and he wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself. No matter what protocol dictated.

“I can stay here.” She straightened her spine and ran her hands down the side of her black stretch pants. “I’ll be okay. And I’ll be able to keep an eye out for anyone snooping around.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Her face turned into a mask of confusion at his words.

“If you stay put, someone just might snoop around and find you. And then where would you end up?”

Her eyes grew wide, her mouth forming a perfect O. A faint quiver in her bottom lip exposed her fear before she could clamp her straight white teeth on it.

She was scared. And for good reason. If she was found, she could end up back in a room just like her Lybanian cell. Or worse. And he couldn’t come rushing in to rescue her again. But he could keep her from ending up in that same spot. Maybe it was just an extension of the mission, but something deep in his gut told him that she needed his protection. Not just anyone would do. She needed him.

Sure, it was against regulations. And he knew firsthand the pain that came with getting too emotionally involved with a woman who didn’t understand how little he had to give as a SEAL.

But she didn’t need just anyone. She needed
him.

The knot in his stomach pulled taut.

The road down which his mind wandered was fraught with landmines. This was a bad idea. He’d failed when another pretty face had needed a protector.

Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time he could save her.

Staci batted long lashes at him. Not flirting, really. Just graceful movements that shaded her eyes. The fear there flickered as she dropped her gaze toward her folded hands, her shoulders sloping as she looked away.

He didn’t have to do much. Just had to stay by her side, keep her close and in his line of sight. Who could blame him for taking care of an innocent in danger?

And if she developed feelings or wanted more than just his help?

He shoved the thought away.

Staci just wanted to be safe. And if she indicated she wanted more than that from him? He could gently remind her that she was probably just feeling residual emotions from the prison rescue. He wasn’t the settling-down type. There were better men for that.

There was only one way to keep her safe until they figured out who was behind this.

“My sister is staying with me right now, but I’ve got an extra room at my place. Why don’t you stay with us?”

FIVE

T
he only thing more surprising than L.T.’s blurted question was her immediate response.

“All right.” Staci pressed her hands down her pant legs as her own words ran on the tail of his question. “I’d hate to be extra trouble.”

He shook his head, the emotions on his face not quite matching his invitation. “My sister, Ashley, is about your age, and her husband is in training in Chicago for a couple more weeks. She could use the company—and the distraction. She’s at my place in case she goes into labor early.”

Staci pressed a flat hand against her mouth. “Labor?”

“Yes. She’s expecting my first nephew in about a month.”

Her stomach flipped and turned. Why had she been so quick to agree to stay with them? Sure, she wasn’t safe in her own home, but that might be preferable to sharing a roof with a pregnant woman her own age.

It had been easier seeing expectant mothers around town and at church from a distance. Easier still in Lybania, where burkas covered baby bumps at every stage until mothers couldn’t leave their homes. No reminders of what would never be.

But every day in a house with a woman who would clearly be showing, clearly be nesting for her little one’s arrival?

That had disaster written all over it.

“You want to pack up a bag, and I’ll take you there now?”

“Umm...” She swung her head around the room, her heart picking up speed as she searched for an excuse, a reason to back out of their too-hasty agreement.

L.T. squinted at her, his nostrils flaring just enough to tell her he’d noticed her hesitation.

“I was just thinking... That is... Maybe I should see about...” She squeezed her fingers into a fist and took a deep breath. “Maybe a hotel would be better. Yes. I could get a hotel room.”

If it was possible, his eyes narrowed even farther and he pressed his hands onto his hips. “A hotel room is hard to secure—it’s too easy for anyone to just walk in from the street. You’ll be safer at my place.” The tone of his voice was just like one he’d used with his team during her rescue. “And you’ll like my sister. Everyone does.”

She blinked rapidly, taking a quick step away from him. “I’m sure she’s great, but I hate to intrude. She’s probably—”

“She’s going crazy spending so much time alone when I’m on the base. And the doctor told her she had to cut back her hours at work, so she could really use someone to talk to.”

Great. Now he’d cornered her so that if she backed out, she’d look as though she didn’t care about her own safety
and
that she didn’t care about a pregnant woman.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in befriending his sister. Ashley was probably a lovely woman.

But watching a pregnancy in full bloom? Could anything dredge up more memories or remind her more fully of her own deficiencies?

Staci attempted a smile at the same time that L.T. glanced over his shoulder—probably wondering what kind of trouble his men could be getting into on the other side of the front door. “I appreciate the invitation. But maybe it would be better for me to stay here. I could be some sort of...bait.”

He shook his head and crossed his arms over the expanse of his chest. “There’s no need for that.” His voice dipped low, brooking no argument. “You’ll be safe with us until we can figure out who this guy is and what his plans are.”

Just because he didn’t want her to counter didn’t mean she was going to give in. “I could just as easily run into him while I’m staying with you.”

“Yes. And then I’ll be by your side. And I’ll take care of it.”

The muscles in his forearms flexed. Oh, dear. If the sinewy ropes of those arms were any indication, he could handle pretty much anything.

“But you said yourself that you’re at the base most of the time. You won’t be with me every minute of the day.”

His brows knitted together, eyes squinting as he dragged a hand through his hair.

There. He couldn’t argue with that. She’d have to be alone sometimes, and that meant that he couldn’t always protect her. She might as well stay in her own home, sleep in her own bed and keep her distance from pregnant women.

“No. I won’t be with you every second, but at least at my place you won’t be alone all of the time. And my guys will pitch in and keep watch on you, too.” Staring hard into her eyes, he leaned forward, balancing on one foot and then the other.

He seemed determined, but she went for one last try. “What if this guy waits until you’re not around to make another attempt?”

He uncrossed his arms and flexed his hands. “If you’re concerned about it, we’ll figure something out. Wouldn’t you feel better staying with me? You just said yes, didn’t you?”

Oh. He’d noticed.

Any chance she could blame her mildly unbalanced behavior on three weeks in a Middle Eastern jail cell? Or a hit-and-run? Or the pipe bomb that his team had rushed out the door?

Her lungs clenched as the reality of all of those surged through her, her knees buckling under their weight.

She didn’t need a reminder why she should go with him.

Her options were limited. Go with him and stay out of the lunatic’s line of fire. Or avoid the very pregnant lady and leave herself in the crosshairs of a madman.

With a measured breath she emptied her lungs. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she nodded slowly.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Fair enough.” He didn’t look particularly happy about being right, but his voice wasn’t unkind. “You want to pack a bag? I’ll clean up in here, then take you to my place and drop you off with Ashley.”

She did as he suggested, shoving jeans and a few tops into her suitcase. She yanked a skirt and sweater set—interview clothes—out of the closet, rolling them into balls before slipping them into the case. On top she threw in her makeup case, hair dryer and her oversized Chargers jersey. Even if she couldn’t be in her own home, she could feel like it with the football shirt her dad had given her before she left for Lybania. Somehow it helped thinking he was near.

Even if he had no idea what was going on.

If she told her parents, they’d insist she stay with them until the risk was past. But that just left them as vulnerable as she was.

She’d meant what she’d said to L.T. earlier. She wasn’t going to put her sister or her parents in jeopardy. And that meant biting her tongue when they called.

As she slipped a light jacket over a fresh shirt and pair of jeans, L.T. thumped twice on the door of her room. “You about ready?”

She opened it. “I guess.”

He reached around her for the handle of her bag, holding it as if its weight didn’t even register on his internal scale. Leading the way to the door, he glanced over his shoulder as she grabbed her glasses and toothbrush from the bathroom.

She spun in a slow circle, taking quick inventory of anything she might be missing. Clothes. Check. Makeup. Check. Bills?

“Who’s going to check my mail?”

He lifted a shoulder. “We’re going to be less than ten miles away. We can check in every now and then. With any luck we’ll find the guy in just a few days, so you won’t miss anything important.”

A few days? All of this could be over so soon? She was scared to hope for it, but couldn’t deny the relief that the idea brought. To be free from this storm would mean she could start her life again. She could figure out her next move and find a new purpose.

She nodded quickly before following him out the door and turning the dead bolt into place with a solid click. Dropping the keys into her purse, she turned toward the two trucks parked at her curb. It was amazing that none of her neighbors had made a commotion about the 4x4s taking up most of the narrow street. Then again, maybe the other residents had gotten a look at the men leaning against the pickups and didn’t want to have to face them.

Three SEALs pushed themselves off the side of the first truck, standing at easy attention. They didn’t twitch or tremble, their arms hanging loosely at their sides.

Immediately the side of her face itched, and she fought the urge to run a finger down her scar. She didn’t have to flit around just because their inherent stillness made her skin tingle. Even if it really wasn’t natural to be so motionless.

Or maybe she still clung to every motion as a reminder of her own humanity.

The youngest guy—the one L.T. had called Willie—followed her with his eyes, then settled them onto his lieutenant.

“I’m going to take her home, and then I’ll meet you all back at the base.”

Willie’s eyebrows rose in the silent question that loomed over all of them. Wasn’t this her home?

Without pretense or preamble L.T. said, “She’s going to stay with me and Ashley for a bit.”

Zig lifted one brown eyebrow, but they all remained silent.

And somehow it was worse than if they’d teased or joked about it. What did they think of her?

“She’s still the mission until she’s completely safe. And we’re all going to pitch in.” L.T. stared at each of his men, daring them to question his command. “Understood?”

The steel in his voice sent a shiver down her back, and she zipped her coat all the way to her chin. The men, on the other hand, weren’t intimidated. They simply nodded their agreement and mumbled a few “yes, sirs” before piling into the first truck and leaving her standing alone beside the only man between her and danger.

* * *

Tristan hefted Staci’s bag from the bed of his truck and carried it toward his front door just as Ashley stepped onto the stoop. With both hands on her back, round belly sticking out, she filled the space between the door jambs. When she spotted Staci, Ashley’s eyes lit up, a smile breaking through her tense expression. She tried to hide her discomfort, but he’d noticed the lines around her mouth and wrinkled forehead when she thought he wasn’t looking. Carrying a baby was hard work, and anything that took her mind off it was a treat.

Especially without her husband by her side during the past month.

Maybe Staci would be a good diversion.

“Who’s this?” Ashley’s voice carried across the lawn, her hips swaying gently, her weight shifting from one foot to the other.

Staci tugged on one of her curls and offered a reserved smile, the warmth he’d known in her eyes all but gone, replaced with a hesitancy he’d never seen her show before.

“Ash, this is my friend, Staci.”

His sister’s eyes narrowed and then grew wide, recognition washing over her face. He hadn’t told Ashley what he and her husband, Matt, had been up to the month before. Not a word about the mission. But Staci’s face had been plastered all over the news networks and papers.

As Staci reached the turn in the flat walkway, Ashley swung the front door wide. “Come on into my igloo.”

The fans on constant rotation in the living room blew Staci’s long hair around her head, and she wrestled it into place, turning slowly around the room.

Compared to her pristine white floors and walls, his place had to look like the epitome of the man cave. Big-screen TV, brown leather couches and a recliner with his form clearly imprinted into it.

Of course, there were no empty cans or crumbs littering the room. Not even before Ashley arrived.

A clean space connoted discipline. And he knew a thing or two about that.

Ash closed the door behind them, her gaze never leaving Staci’s face. “I’m Ashley Waterstone. I’m so happy to know you.”

Staci managed a ginger smile in response. “Staci Hayes.”

“Yes. I’ve seen your picture in the newspaper. You’ve had a rough couple months, haven’t you?” Ash didn’t wait for Staci’s response before plowing on. “How’d you meet Tristan?”

From his stance behind Ashley, he caught Staci’s gaze, which was filled with questions. Was it okay to say how they’d met? Should she keep the danger she was in a secret?

But he didn’t have to respond.

Ashley whipped her head around so fast she nearly threw herself off balance and had to grab his arm for stability. When her feet were firmly beneath her, she glared at him hard. “Matt said you went on a training mission. He said it wasn’t anything to worry about. He said you’d barely left the country.”

Tristan looked to the ceiling and searched for an answer that wouldn’t raise her blood pressure any more than it already was. And wouldn’t land him or his best friend in hotter water. He hadn’t considered this repercussion of bringing Staci home. Of course Ashley had put two and two together. “Matt’s a good husband. He was just looking out for you and the baby. He didn’t want to worry you.”

Just like Tristan wasn’t going to worry her with the details of the threat against Staci.

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned toward him. “Where is Matt right now?”

Tristan chuckled, lifting up the hand that wasn’t holding the suitcase. “Right where he said. He’s in Chicago doing demo training.”

Finally the muscles in her face relaxed and she turned around—slower and more in control than before—and nodded slowly at Staci, whose eyes were bright with concern and confusion.

“I’m sorry about that,” Ash said. “My husband told me he was going on a last-minute training mission about four weeks ago. But clearly he was with my brother, and I assume you, too. But I’m just glad you’re all safe now.”

Staci blinked twice, her mouth hanging open.

“You met Matt for a minute,” Tristan explained. “He’s the senior chief.”

She lifted a hand above her head. “The really tall one?”

Ash nodded. “Yes. That’s him.” A tender smile broke through her frown. She never could stay mad at Matt. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Staci. I’m glad you’re safe. I know firsthand how good these guys are.”

The memory his sister alluded to hit him like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath. Yet another time his work as a SEAL meant he hadn’t been there to protect someone he loved. He was just thankful that recovery from an injury had meant that Matt was still stateside at the time, and that he’d been able to keep Ashley safe. And, incidentally, fall in love with her.

“Firsthand?”

With a flippant wave of her hand—like her kidnapping and capture by a man with no respect for life hadn’t taken years off her brother’s and husband’s lives—Ash smiled. “Oh, sometime I’ll tell you about it. But right now, I’m starving. Are you hungry? It’s time for my second breakfast.”