Navy SEAL to Die For (11 page)

“I’ll bet you do.” Quentin pulled her into the crook of his arm. “Could I ask one favor of you while we’re together on this operation?”

She glanced up at him. “What’s that?”

“That you don’t kiss other men until I’m gone.” He raised his hand. “I’m just saying. I wanted to punch that nice kid, and that just wasn’t right.”

Becca’s eyes widened. “You wanted to punch Geek for that little peck on the cheek?”

He nodded. “You bring out the animal in me.”

“Mmm. I hope that’s the case when we get to my apartment.” She slid her hand inside his jacket to his bare chest beneath. “My shower is small, but just big enough for two.”

He leaned down, his lips a breath away from hers. “I’m counting on it.” Then he sealed her mouth with his, kissing her until her toes curled.

God, she was going to miss this man when he was gone. But until then, she hoped to make a few more memories to hold on to when she lay in her lonely bed.

* * *

Q
UENTIN
KEPT
B
ECCA
nestled into the crook of his arm all the way to her apartment building. Then he held her hand until she found the key tucked behind the light fixture and opened the door, letting them in.

Once inside, she unzipped his jacket and pushed it over his shoulders. For a moment the garment stuck to his right arm. Then it ripped free and fell to the ground.

“What the hell?” Becca circled around behind him. “Damn it, Quentin, you were hit in that gunfight last night. Why didn’t I see this?”

“It’s just a flesh wound. I’d forgotten all about it.” He shrugged. “It’ll wash up in the shower.”

Becca frowned, grabbed his hand and led him through her bedroom into the bathroom. “You should have said something. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. That dark jacket must have hidden the blood stain.” She pulled towels and a washcloth out of the cabinet. “Get out of those clothes and into the shower.”

He reached for her shoulders and held her still. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re sexy when you order a man out of his clothes?”

A smile quirked the corners of her lips and color rose in her cheeks. “I don’t want you getting an infection in the wound.”

“Is that all?”

She looked to the side, the color in her cheeks deepening. “Well, that and I like seeing you naked. You’re not bad-looking...for a SEAL.”

“Thanks. I think.” He unbuckled his shoulder holster and dropped it and the P226 on the counter. “But it’s only fair if I get to see you naked, too.”

“Oh, you will.” She unzipped her jacket and let it fall to the floor. “Count on it.”

Within seconds, they were both standing naked beneath the shower’s spray, a foil-packaged condom resting on an empty soap dish. Quentin had plans for that little item. Soon.

He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheekbones, exploring every inch of her face. “You should be sleeping.”

“I’m wide awake, and my heart is pounding.” She raised his hand to her breast. “Do you feel it?”

Oh, he could feel it, and a whole lot more. He massaged the rounded swell and tweaked her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger. The tip tightened into a bead.

Her back arched, pressing her breast into his palm. She grabbed a bar of soap and lathered it, then spread the suds over his body, from his neck down his back to his buttocks.

Sweet heaven, her hands were magic against his skin. “Where have you been all my life?” he whispered against her neck.

She laughed. “That sounds like a line, if ever I heard one.” Becca lathered again and moved her hands between them, rubbing them over the contours of his chest and downward to the jutting evidence of his desire. She circled it with both hands and tugged him gently toward her.

“Not a line, sweetheart. The truth. I feel like you’re the only woman I’ve ever
really
been with. Mind, body and soul.”

“Pretty words for such a big, dangerous man.” She slid her calf up the back of his and rubbed her sex against his thigh. “
Show
me what you’re feeling.” Capturing his face between her hands, she kissed him long and hard, thrusting her tongue between his teeth to caress the length of his tongue.

Lust, desire and something deeper surged inside him. He bent, lifted her up by the backs of her thighs and pressed her against the cool, tiles of the shower walls. “You’re beautiful...” He kissed her lips. “Intelligent...” Pressing another kiss to the length of her throat, he said, “And sexy as hell.”

Becca laughed and reached for the foil packet, tore it open and leaned away from Quentin, rolling the protection over his engorged staff. “A little less talk, and a little more action.”

“As you wish.” He lifted her up over him and slid into her, slowly, gently, all the way. He inhaled deeply and held her there, committing the moment to memory. This was where he wanted to be, had always wanted to be. If they didn’t see each other again after this night, he’d have what they shared now seared into his mind for the rest of his life.

Her legs tightened and she lifted herself up his length and lowered herself down. Her hands braced on his shoulders, fingers dug into his skin, and her head tilted back, eyes closed, the expression on her face one of intense concentration.

He matched her movements and more, thrusting again and again, the speed picking up with the rising wave of his desire. Soon he pounded into her, every nerve inside him tightening, sending electric jolts all the way to his fingers and toes. Then he catapulted over the edge, flinging himself into the stratosphere.

Becca cried out his name, her body shaking, her channel clenching in spasms around him.

One last thrust and he buried himself deep inside her, pressing his body flush against hers, holding her tight in his arms, never wanting to let go. Ever again.

When they both sank back to earth, Quentin set Becca on her feet. With deliberate and gentle hands, he washed her body, head to toe, shampooed her hair and rinsed her clean. Then he lifted her out of the shower onto the bath mat. With equal care, he dried her body, all the curves and crevices.

She returned the gesture, stopping long enough to care for his wound, applying antibiotic ointment and a bandage.

Then Quentin scooped her into his arms and carried her to the queen-sized bed in the middle of the bedroom, laid her between the sheets and slipped in behind her, spooning her body with his.

She reached back to cup his bottom. “Don’t you want to go for round two?”

“Not now. You and I both need sleep.”

“Big, dangerous and wise.” She pulled his arm around her, resting it beneath her breasts, and promptly fell to sleep.

Quentin lay for a long time, inhaling the scent that was Becca, smoothing his hand over the curve of her hip and the soft swells of her breasts. He hoped and prayed this wasn’t the last time he’d hold her in his arms. The very real threat of something bad happening that night made him want to keep her alone in her apartment, making love and ignoring everything else going on outside.

But he knew he couldn’t. Becca’s determination to set the world right wouldn’t allow her to stay cocooned at home. And Quentin couldn’t let her go it alone.

Chapter Eleven

Becca adjusted the collar of the waitress dress Geek had managed to acquire for their covert entry into the gala that night. She glanced across the back of the delivery van at Quentin.

Clean shaven, his hair cut high and tight, in the dark red uniform the waiters wore at the hotel, he was incredibly handsome.

Her heart beat faster, not because of the danger of sneaking into an invitation-only gala with the associated high level of security. No, her pulse quickened every time she looked into Quentin’s eyes and he looked back. For that brief moment, they seemed to connect at the most amazing level.

The delivery truck swung in a half circle, forcing Becca to hang on until it backed into place against the loading ramp at the back of the hotel.

They had their entrance badges and their formal clothing packed inside the bottom of one of the boxes filled with pastries ordered from one of the most exclusive bakeries in DC, in honor of the vice president’s attendance at the gala.

Quentin held out his hand. “Ready?”

She nodded, squeezed his hand briefly and waited for Sam, the driver, to open the back doors.

Sam and Kat had watched Ivan’s hotel all day. A couple hours before the gala was to begin, Ivan had made his move. He exited the hotel and jumped into a cab headed downtown.

Kat and Sam had followed him all the way to the gala hotel. At that point, they’d met up with Geek. Normally a desk-jockey, he’d taken on the role of a field agent and commandeered a delivery van from the bakery earlier that evening, loaded with the special dessert. The hotel would be frantic looking for that last delivery of the VP’s favorite confection.

Geek handed over the keys, badges and two sets of uniforms for Sam, a bakery uniform and a waiter uniform. For Kat, he had one waitress uniform. The two hurriedly dressed, then Sam had closed Kat, Quentin and Becca in the rear of the van and headed for the hotel.

As the back door opened, Sam leaned in. “Coast is clear. Move out smartly.”

The three dressed in waitstaff uniforms grabbed a stack of dessert boxes.

Becca’s stack had one box filled with her formal dress and shoes. She headed for the entrance door. Juggling her boxes in one hand, she swiped her badge with the other. The light next to the door lock blinked green. She released the breath she’d been holding and opened the door. Inside, dock personnel glanced up. A man with a clipboard hurried over. “Are these the desserts that should have been here hours ago?”

“Yes, sir. I ran into the delivery van outside and thought I’d help bring them in. He said something about engine trouble on the freeway.”

“Let my guys unload.” The man with the clipboard reached out.

Becca pulled away from his reach. “No worries. There are a lot more boxes where these came from. I suggest you get some more help to get them inside and pre-positioned. I’ll run on in and let them know the desserts finally made it.”

The man hesitated a second and then hurried to open the overhead door. Three other workers converged on the van.

Becca, Quentin and Kat helped carry boxes into the hotel and slipped past the dock personnel while they hurriedly unpacked the van. Sam would drive the van away and park it nearby, returning in his waiter uniform when he had it hidden.

Once inside, the three hurried down a long hallway. Kat went ahead since she was already wearing her disguise. She’d work the tables and serve champagne to the guests, watching for Ivan. He had to be there somewhere.

Quentin opened doors along the hallway until he found a broom closet big enough the two of them could fit in. Pulling Becca inside, he closed and locked the door.

Becca ripped open the box with her evening gown, pulled out the tray of sweets and set them aside, then shook out the length of black fabric. There were no sequins or beads sewn into the dress. It was gorgeous on its own.

“Would you mind?” She turned her back to Quentin. “Unzip me, please.”

“My pleasure.” He ran the zipper down her back, his knuckles brushing against her skin. When he had it down all the way, he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, just below her ponytail. “Mmm, you smell sweet.”

Becca shivered, that ache low in her belly flaring with Quentin’s touch. If only they weren’t on a mission... “That’s the desserts from the bakery you’re smelling.”

“Uh-uh.” He nibbled her skin. “No. It’s you, babe.” He helped her push the sleeves of the waitress dress over her arms and down to her hips. His hands circled her waist and ran up to cup her naked breasts. She’d opted to go braless beneath the uniform as the evening gown was cut so low in the front and the back there would be no way to hide one. Now she was glad she’d left it behind.

Becca leaned into Quentin. “If only we had time, I’d—” She sucked in a breath and straightened. “Never mind. We have a job to do. The sooner we find Ivan the better.”

Quentin wasn’t so quick to give up. He pulled her back against him. “You’d what?”

Turning in his arms, Becca said, “This.” She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Her hands worked the buttons loose on his uniform and smoothed it back over his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Thrusting her tongue into his mouth, she tasted of his, nipping and sucking at him, while her fingers worked the button loose on his trousers. When she had his pants down, she stepped away, breathless. “And more.” Wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, she dragged in steadying breaths. “We have to get going.”

She raised the dress she’d chosen above her head and let it glide downward over her body. The V in the front came to just above her bellybutton, the back dipped low on her back, nearly to the swell of her bottom. It was the sexiest and most risqué dress she’d ever owned. Royce had sent her and a prepaid credit card to one of the most exclusive shops in DC with orders to get a dress that would draw attention to her.

Quentin had his trousers off, the tuxedo pants on, and his shirt halfway buttoned, when Becca straightened from slipping her feet into rhinestone-sparkled stilettoes.

He whistled softly. “Wow. And I thought you were gorgeous naked.”

Heat rose up her neck into her cheeks. “Thank you.” From the bakery box, she pulled out the glittering cubic zirconia necklace she’d purchased from a costume jewelry shop and handed it to Quentin. He smoothed her ponytail aside and hooked the necklace in place and then turned her around to kiss her forehead. “You really are incredible.”

“Why do you say that?” She pulled the elastic band from her ponytail and then reached up to finish buttoning the shirt. He handed her the bowtie and she looped it around his neck.

“You can fight like a ninja, shoot like a world-class marksman, swim in the swamps with alligators, and still look like a million bucks in a go-to-hell dress and a pair of stilettoes.”

She tied his bowtie and helped him into his tuxedo jacket. “I could say the same about you.” She grinned. “Less the dress and stilettoes.”

Quentin held out his arm. “Ready?”

She nodded and slipped her hand through his elbow. She was going to a gala with the most handsome man on the planet, dressed in the most expensive dress she’d ever owned. Why was she shaking on the inside? A nagging feeling of impending doom settled over her, something that had never occurred on any of her previous assignments as an SOS operative. She pushed that feeling aside, unlocked the closet door, pulled it open a crack and peered into the hallway.

A man in dock personnel uniform walked past her at that moment, pushing a cart filled with dessert boxes. Becca caught her breath and held it, waiting until the man disappeared around the corner. She opened the door wider and looked back in the direction from which he’d come. The hallway was empty.

She stepped out with Quentin. “Our story, should someone question why we’re back here is that you were escorting me to the ladies’ room and we got lost.”

“Got it.”

Fortunately, they were able to slip past the entrance to the kitchen, arriving at an empty service elevator. Quentin pulled her into it, punched the button for the next floor and waited for the door to close.

Becca didn’t breathe until the two doors connected. “One hurdle crossed. Let’s hope getting into the ballroom is equally easy.”

“Let’s hope the hotel security cameras aren’t following us as we speak.” Quentin glanced up at the camera in the corner of the elevator.

“That’s Geek’s job. The communication van he had stationed across the street from the hotel is his command center. He has the ability to tap into the security system and display what he wants the security personnel to see.”

“Remind me to talk to Royce about my retirement plans.”

“You’re too young to retire from the military,” Becca protested.

“Maybe so, but I like to keep my options open. Being a SEAL is a young man’s sport. The older you get the slower you become. And it’s soon time to let the new wave of recruits take it from here.”

She stared at him, her brows furrowed. “Are you thinking of leaving the navy?”

“Someday.” The elevator door opened on the level where the ballroom was located.

The two of them quickly stepped out and made their way through the labyrinth of service hallways to the one Geek had identified on the blueprint as the sound equipment closet. It had a door leading into the service area and one on the other side leading to the back of the stage where the band played.

Music drifted through the walls, the steady beat of the drums thrumming through the floors into the thin souls of Becca’s shoes.

Hopefully, the electronics specialist would have completed all of his work and the room would be empty. They hadn’t come this far into the hotel to be discovered and escorted out.

As Quentin twisted the knob, Becca held her breath.

* * *

Q
UENTIN
FOUND
THAT
work as a covert agent was much different than that of a SEAL storming the streets and alleys of an Afghan village searching for the enemy. There, he would be fully equipped with a semi-automatic rifle, night-vision goggles and explosives should he need to blow up something. He’d be backed by his team of highly-trained combat veterans.

In the nation’s capital, things were a lot different. He’d thought life stateside was a lot less complicated and safer than being in the desert surrounded by people who wanted to kill him.

So much for bursting his little bubble of trust. Becca had survived multiple attacks by someone paid to kill her. And that someone might be an official in her own government. Maybe even someone at this gala, dressed in expensive clothing, with a heart as black as the tuxedo Quentin had rented for the occasion.

Hopefully, that person wouldn’t be taking potshots at Becca tonight. Not in a room full of people. An attack among the politicians and statesmen who would be present tonight would cause a riot.

With so many thoughts going through his head, Quentin had to go into combat mode and push them to the back of his mind in order to focus on what had to be done.

He turned the doorknob on the equipment room, surprised to find it unlocked. When he pulled it open, he found a man inside cursing and yanking on cables and electrical cords.

The man didn’t look up from what he was doing. “Did you find the spare cables where I told you they were?” When Quentin didn’t answer the man popped his head up. “Oh. You’re not Ruben.”

“No.” Quentin smiled and held up a hand palm upward. “Sorry, but we went through the wrong door and got lost. Could you tell me how to get back into the ballroom?”

“You’re not supposed to be back here.”

“We figured that,” Becca stepped forward, her leg standing out from the slit in her skirt.

The man’s gaze went straight to the leg and his face burned a bright red. “Uh, ma’am, nobody’s supposed to be back here.”

“You said that, and we’d like to comply, but we can’t find the door we came through. Is there another way inside?” She glanced at the door at the opposite end of the room. “Does that door lead into the ballroom? Couldn’t we just go through there?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m not authorized to let anyone through that door. You’ll have to go out the service entrance and come back through the front of the hotel.”

“In these heels?” She twisted her leg, displaying even more of her thigh than before. “I’ll never get to dance if I have to walk all over creation to get back into the ballroom.”

“Darlin’,” Quentin murmured. “I told you that wasn’t the shortcut to the ladies’ restroom.”

“‘I told you so’ isn’t saving my feet for that dance you promised.”

“Look, lady, as long as you’re not packing a weapon I don’t see any reason why you can’t go through that doorway.”

“I don’t think I could fit anything but me inside this dress.” Becca ran her hands down her body and hips. “See, smooth as skin.”

Quentin had felt naked going in unarmed, but given the level of security, if he was caught with a weapon on him, they would throw him in jail first, ask questions later. He couldn’t afford to set off any alarms. Now he was glad he hadn’t insisted on even a small pistol hidden beneath his tux jacket. Opening his jacket, he let the guy see he wasn’t carrying. He pulled out his pockets on his trousers, and even tugged his pant legs up to show he didn’t have anything strapped to his ankles.

“Okay, okay. Go. But you never saw me or spoke to me.”

“Scout’s honor,” Quentin said, raising two fingers in a salute.

Becca stepped over the cables and cords littering the floor, unlocked the door on the other side and pushed it open enough to slip through. The music volume was almost enough to make Quentin want to cover his ears.

Becca looked and then stepped out, bumping into a potted ficus tree positioned strategically to hide the door.

Quentin, right behind her, waited until she navigated around the plant and moved to the corner of the raised dais where the band was playing old classics from the Big-Band era.

Through the musicians and instruments Quentin could see the dance floor beyond, lightly populated with women in expensive gowns and men in tuxedos similar to the one he wore. He took Becca’s hand. “May I have this dance?”