RULES OF LOVE (A Navy SEALs Romance) (7 page)

Reinhart explained to her before this all started if she couldn’t handle this mission in the field, it would be her last. There was no room for error, meaning there was no room for emotions or old memories to get in the way of this job.

The fire crackled and popped, intermingling with the sound from the storm raging outside. The shutters banged against the stone house, but she hardly heard them. She shivered for no reason, wrapping her arms around herself, and tried to focus on the present. She’d been doing fine for so long, and suddenly, a floodgate burst. The dreams, the pain, the insecurity about what she could effectively do, all came back, hitting her again and again. The cocaine-dealing drug lord they assumed was after Beau had ties to several others she’d dealt with in the past, but they weren’t a threat, not anymore. So why the sudden clammy palms and nail-biting instincts that were telling her there was more to all of this?

A blanket fell gently around her shoulders, startling her out of her thoughts. Beau stood behind her—stiff, his face set like stone, and his eyes cold and hard. She kind of liked them like that. It was almost like looking into a mirror. He sat down heavily beside her, his shoulder grazing hers. Eddie fought the urge to pull away, asking him instead if everything was safe and sound for the night, though she already knew it was.

“Inside and out, though wet. Had to change… I think I dripped water all over the place.” His gaze darted to her knee. “Your leg okay tonight?”

“Fine, though I could go for some food,” she said with a smile, holding her stomach as it grumbled loudly. Beau chuckled next to her. The sound was pleasant, and she wondered why he didn’t do it more often. He seemed surprised by his own laughter, and his brow furrowed.

“I could go rustle up some grub from Shane,” Beau offered. “He was downstairs when I came in.”

“Like I said before, you are here to protect me, not be my babysitter.”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t count that as babysitting. You need to eat, and so do I.” Eddie pointed to a basket sitting by the fireplace when he rose. He pulled it over and opened the flap, confused for a minute at the sight. “I take it you do this often?”

“Everyone has a secret stash. They just don’t always admit it.”

Her elbow nudged his, sending a jolt through her at the contact, and she quickly tensed and pulled away. If Beau noticed, he did a damn good job of hiding it from her. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey—half empty—a box of almond biscotti, and jar of cashews.

“Interesting stash.”

“What? A woman can’t have her whiskey?”

“Never said that, though I’m not sure I should have a drink though.”

She waved away his worry, knowing she shouldn’t either, but both of them could use it. “One drink will not push you over the edge. There’s glasses in there. Pour me some, would you?”

His lips twitched and his eyes grew lighter at her command, but he did as she said and pulled out the two glasses, filling them half full before he handed her one. Eddie took it, watching him closely, tracing his sharp cheekbones and muscled neck and shoulders. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, to let her fingertips run along his stubble, but a larger part of her stopped her from doing just that at the last second, images flashing through her mind of a darker time. Eddie frowned and returned her gaze to the fire.

After a few minutes of listening to the fire crackle and pop, Naomi pulled out a biscotti to nibble on as he did the same. The whiskey did its job of warming her and chasing away the worst of her restlessness—for the time being.

“So, Navy, what should we toast to?” she asked to break the silence between them.

Beau stopped mid-sip. “Not sure what we have to toast about at the moment. You not winding up dead?”

Her lips thinned as his eyes darkened. “Fine then, here’s to hoping I don’t get killed.”
Or you don’t get killed.

“I can toast to that.”

Eddie watched him closely as they clinked their glasses together. His hand strayed to hers on the rug, and she stiffened though her hand remained beneath his. She contented herself with taking larger gulps of the amber liquor and trying to ignore the fact that her heart pounded in her ears and her knee was starting to throb as memories crept to the surface. One glance at Beau’s eyes, though, and they stopped, so she stared into them deeply, hoping this new distraction would keep the memories at bay a while longer.

It wasn’t just his eyes that held her gaze. His lips were enticing, and she caught herself licking her own in response… Until his eyes darted to her mouth, and he cleared his throat. She stopped and considered leaving the room before she did something else stupid. Or he did.

His hand wrapped gently around hers on the rug, and Eddie’s breath caught as she tried to understand what was happening. He was attractive, there was no arguing that, and he was the first man in a long time who didn’t elicit a panic attack. Though his arrogance wasn’t present at the moment, she knew it was still there, a huge part of him and something she wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with. A man bossing her around, getting in her business for her own good. That was what they always did.

That aside, she wasn’t sure what else could be wrong with him. He was the first man that had attracted her, and judging by the way he looked at her, the attraction was mutual. She’d felt it the first time they met, when his eyes gazed from her head to her toes and back again, that predatory glint in his eye revealing his desire to possess her.

Her heart pounded so loud it deafened her for a moment. Beau leaned in closer, his eyes studying her face. She wanted to be a normal woman, share a moment like this with a man she found sexy, a man who flashed an ass she wanted to grab every time he walked away. But she couldn’t.

Abruptly, she pulled away and stood up as quickly as she could.

“I’m sorry, but I have paperwork I need to finish.” She grabbed her cane from the wall and limped out the door, taking her whiskey with her.

Beau frowned as Naomi left. He didn’t know what the hell he’d been thinking, but the fire and the storm drove all sense from his mind. Her lips would’ve held a bite from the whiskey, and he’d wanted nothing more than to cover them with his own. And more. He’d been fantasizing about those toned legs since he saw them under the fridge door, since he’d massaged her knee for her and felt the heat emanating from her.

Not to mention the rest of her body, curvy and moving constantly. He bet her skin was soft to the touch and wondered briefly what she would look like without those jeans and tank top. He grunted and glared down at the half-erection pressing painfully against his fly. Now was not the time for this; he was ready to get this woman in bed. But she couldn’t be his focus, not like that. His mission was to keep her alive, not get laid. No matter how incredible he fantasized it would be.

Cursing under his breath, he placed everything in the basket, his head spinning with all the questions he wanted to ask her, starting with why she flinched when he touched her, or why her eyes were so cold. Her eyes possessed a burning hate he could plainly see. Something had happened to her to give her that coldness, and it sure as hell wasn’t a damn car accident. If a man hurt her, caused her to act the way she did, he’d hunt him down after this mission and make sure the only way he could move would be with a high-powered wheelchair.

Beau had spent only two days with Naomi so far, but something inside him told him he would never be able to let her go after this mission.

CHAPTER FIVE

He’d arrived in France two hours ago, checked into his hotel room, and waited ever since for a phone call. His man was late, and being late meant being punished… Unless, of course, his report was good enough to buy him his life. The man checked his watch again, fiddling with the knife in his pocket.

His cell vibrated in his coat and he whipped it out, his voice agitated. “You better have some damn good info or I’m sending one of my men after you.”

After a pause on the other end, the same man from before spoke in whispers. “Your inside man is holding the information we need to find Savage. What do you want me to do?”

The man tried hard to control his rage. They’d lost sight of him once. He’d trusted his men to do their job and follow Savage, but they’d lost him, and now the answers he needed were being withheld. Unacceptable. He knew why he was holding out. Despite his claims of not caring, the man was being difficult for a reason.

“You have four days to get the information from him or tell him the deal is off and you’re all dead.”

He hung up and stared out over his balcony into the streets of France. The mark was so close, and he was anxious to carry out his revenge, the revenge he’d been waiting to exact for four long years. The man removed the knife from his pocket and threw it across the room into two pictures taped to the wall close together. Soon, he’d be able to aim at the subjects in the pictures.

CHAPTER SIX

She really is a restless sleeper. Wonder what’s bothering her.
Beau sat up on the pullout couch, listening to Naomi toss and turn across the room.

He awoke because of her mumbling and whimpering even though she was obviously still sound asleep. She quietened for a few minutes, and Beau assumed her dreams ended when a scream escaped her lips as she shot up in bed. She gasped for breath, and in the moonlight shining through the window, Beau could see sweat beading on her forehead. Her hands shook as she rubbed her face viciously. He rose and walked to her bed, but she held up a hand so he wouldn’t come any closer.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t push me away every time something happens. I hate to tell you, but I’m not leaving your side any time soon, so you might as well just tell me.”

“Yes, I bloody well can,” she said too quickly, pushing the hair back from her face, trying to stop her hands from shaking by clasping them tightly in her lap. “It was just a nightmare. Go back to sleep, Navy.”

“Do you have them often?”

She stared at him, expressionless. He was in dangerous territory and he knew it. “Why do you ask? You a therapist?”

“You woke up the same way last night—screaming.”

“I did not—”

“Yes, you did.” He looked deeply into her cold, green eyes, waiting to get decked as her hands curled into fists on the sheet. Two could play at this game, and her fiery attitude perfectly matched his own. The challenge delighted him. “You need to talk, Naomi. It’s the only way the nightmares will stop.”

Naomi’s eyes narrowed, and he saw a different glint in her eyes, a deadly one. The look of someone who would kill. He blinked, not believing he’d really seen it, but it was still there, staring back at him.

“You think I’m going to listen to that bullshit? I’ve been through it once, so save the speech, Navy. I can handle it just fine.” She threw the sheet off, grabbed her cane, and walked stiffly out the door.

“I can see that well enough,” he muttered before Naomi reached the door.

“You know nothing about what I’ve been through.”

Beau stood so his face was level with hers. She gripped her cane hard, and her knuckles turned white. She didn’t meet his gaze. He’d seen men like this before when they’d returned from fights, watched those they knew get killed or injured. It was never pretty, but sometimes, the gentle route was not the way to help them get over it. With Naomi, he would have to be harsh.

“You’re stubborn and proud. I would be too if I walked around with a cane all the time, pissed no one could fix my leg. There’s something else, though, and one of these days, you’re gonna have to open up before it eats you alive from the inside out.”

She laughed harshly. “And you think you’re much better, do you? I can see past you, Navy. You’ve built a wall around your emotions. Oh, you try very hard to hide it, but I can see right through it. Have you opened up to anyone?” Beau didn’t answer, shifting restlessly on his feet. “Didn’t think so. Now, back off.”

“Why do you flinch when I try to touch you?” he blurted before she could escape.
Much harsher approach.
Her eyes bored through him.
Very dangerous territory. She could whack me anytime if she wanted with that damn cane, and I’d probably let her.

“That is none of your business.”

“Did he hurt you?”

The question caught Naomi completely off guard as she fumbled for words. “What? That… that was a very long time ago.” She tried to walk away, but he held her there, his hand on her shoulder. She flinched immediately at the contact, and he heard her curse.

“Talk to me, Naomi.”

She chewed her bottom lip, and without any warning, hauled off and punched him square in the jaw. He grunted in pain. Despite anything else he might not know about her, she packed a punch.

“I’d rather beat you senseless first.” She stormed out of the room and disappeared down the stairs.

Beau watched her, holding his jaw. He’d definitely touched a nerve, and a part of him wanted—no, needed—to know what she lived through. The question about the man had been a guess, but it worked well enough. She had been pissed, but he saw a little fear seep into her face. Beau wondered if that could be the reason for the nightmares, because he was now sure they weren’t caused by just a car accident.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with Savage. She’d punched him, but she’d wanted to beat the shit out of him for pushing. She reached her office, closed and locked the door, and pulled out her cell to call Jackie. She needed to talk to someone who might not piss her off.