Stranded with the SEAL (7 page)

T
revor lit
a candle and made his way down a narrow staircase to the basement, the smell of must making his nose twitch. The furnace was in the far corner near the electrical box, and as he moved toward it, a bright red tag on the exhaust pipe caught his eye.

WARNING: Cracked Heat Exchanger. Carbon Monoxide Hazard.

It was handwritten in thick black marker, signed with a scribble, and fastened to the furnace with a zip tie. He’d never seen anything like it.

He pried open the panel on the furnace. It was older, with a cylindrical heat exchanger, and he moved to a small workbench to locate some basic tools. Within minutes he was inspecting it in the candle’s light. Sure enough, there was a crack.

“Son of a gun,” he whispered. They wouldn’t be getting any heat out of this furnace today. Carbon monoxide from the burning fuel would flow right out of the crack and into the cabin, killing anyone who slept in the house.

He laid on his back and stared up at the foreboding red tag. Who would leave something like this, instead of fixing the problem? It was potentially deadly and just sitting here waiting for someone to turn the gas back on and adjust the thermostat.

He ran his finger over the crack while his mind considered the possibilities, then inhaled quickly when his finger was sliced open by a sharp metal edge.

What the hell?

A cracked heat exchanger shouldn’t have a sharp edge like that. No, the “crack” in this cylinder was only made to look like it was naturally occurring. In fact, it had been deliberately punctured with some kind of sharp tool.

Trevor sucked on his bleeding finger and made his way back upstairs. Olivia was standing in the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Any luck on the furnace?” she asked.

“No.” He told her about the sabotaged heat exchanger and explained what it meant. “Someone did this on purpose, to fill this place with carbon monoxide.”

“Why would someone do that?” she asked.

“The only reason I can think of is murder.”

She stared at him several beats too long, the color seeming to drain from her face.

“Olivia, are you okay?”

Her eyelids fluttered and he moved to grab her, catching her just as she went limp and passed out.

J
ax Andersson bent
his six-foot-four frame and peered into a retinal scanner. A metal door opened to a long, lighted hallway and he entered with the heavy stomp of his military boot.

He took a sip of his coffee, the hot brew mixing with the acid in his stomach that had begun churning when he called Logan to have him track Hawk’s cell phone.

He should have known the shit was going to hit the fan when Logan first told HERO Force about the intel that Steele was taking another shipment, more than a month ago. Hawk had gone ballistic, nearly lunging across the conference table. “This is our chance to get that son-of-a-bitch,” he’d said, his eyes shining with eagerness.

Jax had matched Hawk’s enthusiasm with a level gaze. “No. The intel’s unconfirmed. We can’t dedicate our resources on some half-assed report that Steele’s involved in human trafficking.”

Hawk had stood up, meeting his stare. “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it, Jax. You know that.”

Did he ever. He knew it better than anyone. He knew Trevor Hawkins was hurting from the loss of his friend years earlier, but Ralph’s death had been Jax’s responsibility. It was he who made the call to send HERO Force in, and Ralph’s blood was on Jax’s hands.

He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. Besides, his hands were tied. There was a reason he couldn’t go after Steele. A reason he wasn’t permitted to share.

Jax braced himself on the table. “Of course I know it. I also know the risk involved in sending a team up that mountain. Steele’s resources are too great for one squad to take him down.”

“So send two squads.”

Jax slammed down a folder. “I can’t justify that from this report, Hawk, and you damn well know it.”

Hawk shook his head, his face reddening. “Two years we’ve been waiting for this, and you’re just going to let it go?”

“It’s my call.” He turned to leave the conference room, but Hawk’s voice stopped him cold.

“Then you’re a coward.”

Jax pivoted on his heel, taking deliberate steps back to Trevor Hawkins. They were friends. Brothers in arms. Had been through more together than most men would go through in a lifetime. But Jax was the leader of HERO Force, and Hawk had just crossed the one line Jax couldn’t allow him to cross. “You just started your vacation two days early, Hawkins. Without pay.”

Hawk said nothing, his eyes piercing Jax’s across the room.

“When you come back to this team,” said Jax, “you’d better remember who is where in the pecking order, or you won’t be on this squad at all.”

Yep. He should have seen it coming a mile away. Jax passed a woman in a formfitting business suit without making eye contact, then turned down another corridor. Several people walked toward him, and he nodded in greeting, his expression discouraging conversation.

A hundred yards down, he opened the door to a conference room and clenched his jaw as he took in the men at the table. This was the Alpha Squadron of HERO Force, a hand-picked team of ex-military and alphabet agency front men with the knowledge and experience to take on whatever might come their way.

He ought to know. He was the one who picked them.

“Gentlemen, I trust you all enjoyed your vacation.”

Cowboy leaned on the back two legs of his chair, holding the table for balance. “I was about to marry a Mexican princess when you called us back here.”

Logan grinned, lacing his hands behind his head of wavy brown hair. “Finally found true love, eh, Cowboy?”

Cowboy touched the brim of his hat and winked. “Shit, Logan. I didn’t say nothing about love.”

Matteo crossed his arms. “Where’s Hawk?”

“He’s the reason I called you all back here,” said Jax. “Hawk is on Warsaw Mountain.”

“Ah, fuck.” Cowboy leaned forward, slamming his chair to the floor with a loud thud.

“His cell phone was last pinpointed just over eleven miles from Steele’s compound, but it doesn’t seem to be currently transmitting,” said Logan. “That means one of several things. It was destroyed or the battery was taken out in the hopes we wouldn’t track him, or that cell communications in that area have been affected by the blizzard and subsequent, ongoing ice storm. The utilities are aware of several downed towers in that general vicinity.”

“He wouldn’t wait until he got there to take the battery out, if it was detection he was worried about,” said Cowboy.

Jax shook his head. “Doesn’t make a damn bit of difference why the signal stopped. It tells us he’s there, or was there. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Likewise, there’s no decision to be made about whether or not we go in after him. The only thing that’s undecided is what our course of action should be. Stop him — if it’s not too late to do that — or assist in his efforts to take down Steele.”

Jax looked pointedly at Logan. “How strong is the intel you have right now?”

“Very strong.” Logan opened his laptop. “We know for sure a shipment of girls arrived at his compound on the eighteenth.”

“That was days ago,” said Jax. “Steele wouldn’t hold on to them a minute longer than necessary.”

“True, but the road has been closed since the morning of the nineteenth.” Logan raised his eyebrows. “There’s a good chance those women are still there.”

Matteo leaned back in his chair. “Steele could have heard the weather report and got them off the mountain before the road closed. Then we have no probable cause, and any action on Steele appears unjustified.”

“Hawk is one of our own,” said Jax. “But this mission isn’t like our usual assignments. If this one goes bad, any or all of us might be brought up on charges of murder. I want each of you to think hard about this, but I want an answer right now. I’m going after Hawk. Are you coming with me?”

Cowboy raised his hand. “I’m in.”

“I’m coming, too,” said Logan, closing his laptop.

All eyes moved to Matteo.

“What do you say, Red?” asked Cowboy.

“I don’t know him very well,” said Matteo. He shrugged. “But I like to think a man you’re all willing to die for must be someone I should defend.”

Cowboy cracked a smile. “You could just say yeah, dude.”

Jax wasn’t amused. “Red, prepare the chopper. Cowboy, you pack. We leave at thirteen hundred hours.”

The men stood up in unison and pushed in their chairs.

“It’s high time someone went after that son of a bitch,” said Jax.

“
D
o
you want to talk about it?” Trevor asked.

Olivia washed a pan in the sink, her back ramrod straight. They’d eaten in silence after she not-so-subtly told him to stop talking.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said. “I have no idea why I passed out. It’s probably from the concussion.”

“Livy, you were clearly upset about the heat exchanger.”

“I was not upset, and stop calling me Livy. The furnace has nothing to do with me. This whole place has nothing to do with me.”

The lady doth protest too much.

She knew he wasn’t buying it for a minute.

“Besides, I don’t want to talk about this,” she said with a wave. “I thought we agreed not to talk about this.” She dropped the pot onto a pile of other pots with a loud clang.

“You commanded me not to talk about it, actually,” he said.

“This is ridiculous. Are you always such a child?”

His jaw dropped. “You’re calling me a child?”

She turned around and put her hand on her hip. “Yes, I am.”

God, she was gorgeous, with her hair falling this way and that from its rubber band, and the pissed-off flush of her skin. He was getting hard just looking at her, and he had no right to look at her like that at all.

“Fine,” he said. “I won’t say anything else about it tonight.”

“Good.”

He stared at her, unable to tear his eyes away. He wanted to kiss her again, to feel her defenses fall away as she responded to his touch. And she would respond to him. He was sure of it.

His hand twitched. He knew his desire was painted on his face, much like the high color in her cheeks suggested her own. If she so much as batted an eyelash, he’d be all over her.

She looked at the floor, breaking their connection, and he cleared his throat. “I’m going to go take a bath.” His knee could use a good cold soak, which might help with his more pressing problem, as well.

He made his way into the bathroom, his mask of nonchalance falling away. He eased the zipper of his jeans down and shucked them off, sitting on the cold edge of the tub and ignoring his hard-on. His knee was throbbing as much as his cock. How much damage had he done to it, pushing it when he knew he was injured?

He turned on the cold water, letting it run clear before filling the tub. He wished he had some ice to ease the swelling of his knee, but the cold water would have to do. He got in and leaned back against the icy enamel, his mind still full of Olivia’s flushed face as she argued with him in the kitchen.

Man, she was beautiful, and somewhere out there was a man who knew it even better than he did. One lucky son of a bitch who’d asked her to marry him and she’d said yes, only now it was as if that had never happened, like the universe was offering her some perfect life or what was behind door number two — an embittered Navy SEAL who lived only to avenge his teammate’s death.

Soon it would be time for them to sleep, and he already knew those blankets weren’t enough to keep them both warm on separate couches, no matter who she was engaged to. He remembered what she felt like in his arms, so soft and curvy in all the right places, and his balls clenched with need despite the cold water.

There was a knock at the door. “I brought you some hot water,” Olivia said as the door opened. “I thought you must be cold in here without…” She froze when her eyes reached his body, naked for her to see. “Oh, geez.”

“Do the men you know bathe with their clothes on?”

Her cheeks were bright red. “You could have pulled the curtain when I came in.”

“You didn’t really give me the chance.”

She pulled the curtain closed. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind.”

She was quiet for a moment. “What are we doing, Trevor?”

Torturing each other.

Dancing around each other and their growing attraction. Denying each other the one thing they wanted, and pretending it wasn’t there.

“Nothing, unfortunately,” he said.

She hit the shower curtain. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do.”

She sighed. “Move your feet. I don’t want to burn you.” She dumped the water in, the most delicious warmth spreading through the tub, and he moaned with pleasure.

“You could join me,” he said, his voice husky.

He could see her hand trail down the curtain, feel it as if it were touching his skin, then she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

So much for getting rid of his hard-on.

His hand closed around his shaft and he squeezed his cock tightly, then stroked it up and down. What would she feel like, her wet heat surrounding him?

A hell of a lot better than this, loser.

He sat up abruptly and splashed water on his face, then cleaned his body with punishing strokes. She had him acting like a horny teenager, and he wasn’t enjoying the transition back in time. He hoisted himself up and out of the tub, pulled a towel around his waist and limped to the bedroom to get dressed.

When he made his way back to the living room, he froze. She was sleeping on one sofa, and the other had been made up for him. His disappointment was acute. He moved closer, all but certain she was pretending, but her breathing was deep and she really appeared to be sleeping.

He couldn’t help but smile when he realized she was wearing several layers of clothing, including a trench coat.

Maybe it was for the best.

He tugged on a pair of boots and put on a coat, then grabbed his knife and headed out the door to do one last patrol before sleeping. The moon was shining brightly behind light cloud cover, enabling him to see quite well as he made his way around the property.

Back inside, he sat on the couch she’d readied for him, staring at her sleeping form. She had so many layers on, while he wore only a pair of sweat pants from the drawer. Of course, he knew he had no reason to be cold when Olivia was here, separate beds be damned.

He stood and moved to her, climbing over her legs and squeezing between her back and the sofa cushions, then spread his blanket over them both and tucked his arm around her middle possessively.

He could tell the moment she woke up, her lax muscles tightening with apprehension, but she didn’t speak for several minutes.

“Is there something wrong with your bed?” she asked.

“You aren’t in it.”

The rhythm of her breathing quickened beneath his arm.

Olivia’s arm snaked out from under the covers and she laced her fingers with his, pulling his arm more tightly around her as she shifted and placing her bottom snugly against him, driving him wild.

His face was in her hair and he nuzzled her neck before he could stop himself, his lips gently grazing her shoulder. She moaned, and he pulled her tightly to him.

“I’m sorry I made you angry,” he whispered.

“Me, too.”

He could make love to her just like that, let his hand that was already pressed against her chest wander to her breast, strip her of all those ridiculous clothes like he was unwrapping a present. Already she was pressing against his erection, her gentle motion a clear invitation.

Or was it? Did she know what she was doing to him?

He kissed her warm neck, the soft skin there that smelled so much like her, and she turned back to meet his kisses.

There it was, the quick and heavy chemistry, one touch of their mouths together proving what he suspected since the first time his eyes met hers. They would be good together. Perfectly matched to drive the other one crazy.

Any second now, she was going to stop him, tell him what a jerk he was for doing this to her, but he could tell she wanted him just as badly. He settled on top of her body. “Tell me we can’t do this,” he said. “Tell me you want me to stop.”

He moved to the tie on her trench coat. She covered his hand with hers.

His voice was strained. “You’re not going to let me undress you?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“I can’t.”

He hung his head and she wove her fingers through his hair, the edges of her fingernails touching his scalp. She kissed his forehead.

“You’re killing me, Olivia.” Reaching down, he circled her ankle and slowly pulled it up to his shoulder, feeling for any resistance and finding none. When she was open to him, he pressed himself against her, lust and frustration mingling into one tantalizing cocktail.

She squirmed beneath him.

“Feel me against you,” he said. “Do you know how much I want you?”

“Yes, but we have to stop.” She brought her leg back down, not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought we could just kiss and be next to each other. I thought it might be enough.”

“Enough?” He took hold of her jaw and tilted her chin up until her eyes met his. “I want to be inside you,” he said. “I want to feel your body tighten around me when I make you come. I want to thrust inside you so hard I explode, and I want to hear your breathing settle in my ear and know that I did that to you.” Her eyes were wide and her breath came quickly. He shook his head. “Nothing else will ever be enough.”

He shifted his weight off of her, rolling her body so he was spooning her backside, and covered them with the blankets.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“It’s too cold for us to sleep on separate beds.” He did his best to sound like it was no big deal, even though his body was screaming it was impossible. He was a Navy SEAL, for God’s sake. He’d slept in more difficult situations than this. “You can relax, Livy. I’m not going to make another move on you tonight.”

“You expect me to just go to sleep, with…
that
?”

He knew she was referring to his cock against her backside. “Not a lot I can do about that right now. Just do me a favor and try to control yourself. And whatever you do, don’t wiggle your butt.”