Saved by a SEAL (Hot SEALs Book 2) (3 page)

“So how long?”
Jon asked.

“I hope
soon. With any luck he’ll have something for me to sign tomorrow. I’m going to hang here at least for tonight, unless we get called in.” It wouldn’t kill him to sleep under his father’s roof for one night . . . probably.

T
hat would also give him time for the required show of good faith—the date with Missy.

“So that will be it then? A signed contract and we’
re good to go?”

“That’s it.”
A signed contract and Zane’s bachelorhood, if his father had his way.

Zane kept that little detail to himself. Georgie was his problem to handle, not Jon’
s.

“Wow. I can’t believe it’s going so smoothly. Just like you said it would.”

“Yup. Smooth sailing.” Zane sighed, the note with Missy’s phone number on it weighing heavily in his pocket.

CHAPTER 3

Missy
Greenwood surveyed the selection of clothing in the walk-in closet and shook her head. Most of what she owned was totally inappropriate for her trip.

What s
he needed was a good pair of sturdy boots, cargo pants and about a dozen plain cotton shirts. What she had was a closet full of cocktail dresses and racks filled with designer shoes that hurt after wearing them for an hour.

She turned at
the knock on the bedroom door. “Come in.”

The door
opened and Maria rolled Missy’s largest piece of luggage through the door.

“No, Maria. N
ot the big suitcase. Ask Jorge to take down the smallest carry-on from the attic.”

“Just a small one for three months?” A frown creased the maid’s brow. “Miss Greenwood, that’s not
going to be enough.”

“It’s going to have to be.
In fact, if there’s a duffle bag or a backpack up there, bring that instead. Do you understand what I mean? A small bag I can carry on my shoulder.”

Maria frowned deeper at the request, but nodded. “Yes, Miss. I’ll tell Jorge.”

“Thank you.” Missy wasn’t going to count on being somewhere where she could easily roll her Louis Vuitton luggage or find someone to carry it for her. In this case, she had to travel light and simple.

Blending in wouldn’t hurt either. Nigeria wasn’t Jekyll Island. She wouldn’t be rubbing elbows with society folks.
The more unobtrusive she appeared, the better. At the girls’ school where she’d be volunteering, she’d be among missionaries and teachers, so it would be best to look like one of them rather than as if she’d just stepped out of the country club.

Giving up on the clothes in her closet, she sighed and turned for the door. Packing for this trip would require
some shopping first.

She
moved to her lingerie drawer and glanced at the contents, realizing she’d need everything right down to new underwear and bras. Where she was headed plain cotton undergarments would be far more practical and more comfortable than her skimpy lace ones would be.

Missy had better go
shopping alone too. Her mother would be no help in this situation. Not only did the woman have personal shoppers kissing her feet the moment she walked into any one of the high-end stores in the area, she also didn’t approve of this trip. And she sure as hell wouldn’t approve of the sturdy, utilitarian clothing Missy planned on buying or the stores she’d likely have to go to find it.

She’d have to sneak out and hit the
stores alone.

Her head spun with details. S
he’d need good comfortable cotton socks, as well. Lots of them, because who knew when or where she’d be able to do laundry? That brought up another point. Should she bring laundry detergent with her? She couldn’t imagine there’d be a store near the school to buy any. She wouldn’t let herself consider that there might not even be a washing machine.

What she needed was a list.

As Missy turned for the desk to find pen and paper her mother walked in. “Why in the world are both Jorge and Maria ripping apart the attic?”

“They’re looking for a bag for me to take to Nigeria.”

Martha Vanderbilt Greenwood pressed her lips together until they formed a tight line. Missy resisted the urge to tell her mother that when she held her mouth like that, it created deep and very unattractive wrinkles. Since Missy didn’t want to get disowned, she kept her own mouth shut about that.

“
I don’t know why you insist on going to this place. Can’t we just write a nice check to the school instead?”

“No, M
other. They’re counting on me being there for the next three months.” She knew very well her mother would only be happy when Missy was settled down, married to some
proper
man, popping out heirs and sitting around the country club while some hired woman raised them.

“
Schools are always in need of money. I’m certain they’d rather have a donation. That way they can hire a professional teacher. Someone qualified for the job.”

The unspoken text in that statem
ent was that her mother felt Missy wasn’t qualified. Apparently Missy’s double major in English and Education in college and her subsequent Masters degree didn’t qualify her to teach English to a group of Nigerian school girls, in her mother’s opinion.

“I’m going, M
other. But I agree the school could always use more money, so I’m sure they’ll greatly appreciate your generous donation.”

Her mother’s scowl deepened and Missy flashed back to what this woman used to say to her back when she was a child and would make a face.
Keep that up and it will stay that way.

Judging by the amount of wrinkles and creases marring her mother’s face,
giving her the look of being unhappy all the time, it might just be true.

“Anyway, I’m heading to the club for
the day. Will you be joining me?” her mother asked.

It was the opportunity Missy needed to get away alone.
“No, I can’t. I’m running out for a bit.”

“Will you be
done by dinner?”

“
I’m not sure but probably not.”

Her mother frowned at that answer. “Where are you g
oing?”

What to say to that? She couldn’t utter the word
shopping
. It was practically Martha Greenwood’s profession. At the very least, it was her obsession.

“Uh
. . .” Missy’s cell phone rang and gave her a reprieve, a few moments to breathe and come up with a good excuse to go out alone. She held up one finger to stall her mother. “I have to take this. Hello?”

“Missy? Hi, i
t’s Zane Alexander. I’m not sure if you remember me—”

“Zane, hi. Of course, I remember you.” The shock Missy
felt was mirrored on her mother’s face at the sound of his name.

George
Zane Alexander III, her teenage crush. Missy couldn’t wrap her head around the fact she was getting a call from him, completely out of the blue, ten years after he’d disappeared so suddenly and completely from her life. What had caused him to pop back into it?

“
I’m in town visiting my parents and I was wondering if you wanted to get together.” His voice still sent a tremble through her, all these years later.

“Sure. Defi
nitely. When?”

“Are you free today?”

“I am.” She eyed her mother, who looked about to burst from listening to only half of the conversation.

“You are?” He sounded surprised to hear that.
“Uh, good. Um—I’m trying to think of where we could meet.”

“
There’s a new coffee shop right in the strip of stores on the town square.” Killing two birds with one stone, Missy suggested a meeting place that happened to be walking distance to a shopping center where she might be able to find the clothes she needed to buy for her trip.

“
All right. That sounds good. Can you meet me at the coffee shop in say half an hour?”

“
Half an hour is good. I’ll see you there.”

“Great. See you there.”

She disconnected the call and smiled at her mother. There was no way she would try to tag along now that Missy was meeting Zane. Her family had had their eye on the Alexander heir apparent and his family’s fortune right up until Zane had run off to join the Navy.

Missy’s teenage heart hadn’t
gotten over that loss easily. It was a long, painful, angst-filled year after he left before she stopped missing him. Hearing his voice now brought the memories of those days right back, in spite of the time that had passed.

“I’m meeting Zane Alexander for coffee.
”

“Zane Alexander
.” The sheer number of unspoken questions swirling through her mother’s mind were clearly visible in her expression.

Missy wouldn’t have had any answers even if her mother did dare to ask them. She was just as clueless as to what had prompted the call and the invitation to get together after all the
se years.

No matter what the reason, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Just when Missy had needed a day away from her mother, Zane had swooped in and given her the perfect excuse.

“Yes. He’s in town visiting his parents and wants to get together. I’m not sure if we’ll end up having dinner or not, so don’t plan on me.”

“All right. Please give him our best.
And of course, our regards to his family, as well.”

“Will do.”
Missy was about to grab her purse and make a quick exit when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

Her shopping trip had turned into a date, or a least a friendly reunion with the guy who’d take
n up every page of her diary during her early teen years. Either way, she wanted to look nice. Right now, she didn’t. Not good enough to see, or be seen in town with, Zane Alexander.

“I need
to change.” Missy sighed and ran her hand through her shoulder-length blond waves, knowing she didn’t have time to do anything with her hair.

The unladylike expulsion of breath from her mother told Missy
the woman agreed.

“Yes, you do.”
Fashion guru that she was, her mother strode for the closet while Missy swiped on some blush. She came back carrying a blue wrap-dress and soft leather knee-high, high-heeled boots. “Put this dress on. The color matches your eyes.”

“It’s
cut kind of low in the front for daytime.”

Her mother cocked one brow.
“And?”

Appa
rently that was the point. “Okay.”

Missy reached for th
e dress as her mother continued, “Take your beige cashmere coat. It’s supposed to get chilly tonight and you might be out late.”

Yes, she might. With or without Zane, it would be nice to have the evening to herself. She could take her time shopping for what she needed. Maybe she’d even look for a good traveling bag to buy since Maria hadn’t come back from the fourth floor with one.

It was turning out to be a pretty good day after all.

She held the dress up in front o
f her. It did make her eyes pop, as well as her boobs. Even if they weren’t big, Zane would definitely get an eyeful. She wasn’t a teenager like she’d been when he’d left. It wouldn’t hurt to make sure he noticed the change.

CHAPTER 4

Through the dark lenses of his sunglasses, Zane surveyed the passersby streaming past the outdoor café table where h
e sat. The sidewalk was busy, since it was midday. The temperature was moderate for winter, and the sun was warm enough he’d chosen to sit outside to wait.

Would he recognize Missy? Maybe. Probably. He doubted she’d change
d all that much in ten years except for the removal of the braces that had been on her teeth last he’d seen her.

He’d arrived early
on purpose. He liked to get the lay of the land before going in. Dating was no different than a mission in that way. He leaned back in the café chair to wait, wondering if having coffee would count as a date in his father’s eyes. If he didn’t get recalled, he should probably take her to dinner, just to be safe. A little insurance against any sneaky shit George might try.

Glancing at the screen of his cell on the table, he confirmed there were no messages. Not from Missy. Not from the guys either since he had already talked to Jon on the drive
over to visit briefly with his mother.

Most importantly, there was no message from command. He might just get this required first date out of the way yet. If Missy wa
sn’t fashionably late, that was.

“Zane.”
A voice behind him brought his attention around.

He turned to s
ee her smiling and looking the same and yet very different. “Missy. Hello. It’s good to see you.”

Zane stood and reached out to take her hands in his while
he leaned in to kiss her cheek. While doing so he didn’t miss the sophistication and maturity a decade had given her. She looked more like her mother than ever, with her large designer sunglasses and expensive cashmere coat.

But the light, cool breeze that turned
her cheeks pink and rustled the blond waves brushing her shoulders made her look like the teenager he’d known from the past. So did the genuine warmth in her smile.

She squeezed his hands and Zane
felt the chill in her fingers. “We can go inside to sit if you’d like. It’s too cool out here for you.”

“Actually, if you
wouldn’t mind, could we get coffee to go?” she asked. “I kind of wanted to take a walk around the shopping center and see what’s here.”

Zane’s brows rose with surprise.
This shopping center? The strip mall filled with discount shops? “Sure. We can definitely grab something to go, if you prefer.”

If Zane wasn’t very aware that just the clothes on Missy’s back cost as much as his military pay for a single pay cycle
, Missy’s strange request to check out the stores in the strip mall would have him wondering if the Greenwoods were having money problems.

Then again, maybe Missy was more like him than he’d assumed. Maybe she’d traded her access to the family fortune in exchange for freedom
too.

Either way, her req
uest upped the interest factor on a date he’d assumed would bore him to death.

He pulled open the door, laying a guiding hand on her shoulder as she walked past him. He could tell from one touch that the coat was cashmere. Authentic designer Burberry and not a knock-off. No doubt about it.

As they joined the tail end of the coffee line behind two other customers, Zane pulled off his sunglasses and took a better look at Missy. “So are you shopping for anything special today?”

She slid off her own glasses and he saw the blue eyes
that he remembered being so big they had looked out of place for her face when she’d been a little girl.

“Actually, I am
.” She drew in a breath like she didn’t want to tell him, which made him even more curious to hear. “I need clothes,” she finally said.

He grinned. “Don’t all women?”

She laughed. “Yes, but not the kind you’re envisioning. I’m going to Nigeria to teach English in an all-girls school. I’m thinking my collection of Christian Louboutin shoes might not be the most practical thing to bring with me.”

Missy
couldn’t have said anything that shocked Zane more. “Nigeria? For how long?”

“Three months. I want to be self-sufficient
while I’m there, so I don’t want to take a lot with me. I’m thinking I need to buy a backpack or some kind of duffle bag with a long strap so I can carry it myself.” She cringed. “And when you called it was for us to catch up, not go shopping. I realize that so don’t worry. I just thought we could take a walk along the stores and see what’s here and then I’ll go inside later without you.”

He shook his head
. “No, it’s fine. Actually, I have some experience in some less than friendly environments myself. Maybe I can give you a few pointers on what you’ll need.”

Less than friendly
was an understatement. His last rotation in Afghanistan had his team patrolling in to most of their missions while wearing sixty-pounds of equipment. They’d used the insurgents’ own goat paths through the mountains to sneak up on them in their beds in the dead of night. They’d get in and get out, all under cover of darkness, hiking back to base to arrive before the sun rose.

Her eyes, deep blue and guileless, widened. “That would be so great
if you had any advice on what I need. I can walk into a boutique and pick out the perfect outfit to wear to almost any occasion my parents require me to be at, but I’m not sure I know how to choose the best hiking shoes and socks.”

“A
nd you’ll want the right kind of both. Believe me, your feet will thank you for it.”

She still looked hesitant.
“Are you sure you don’t mind helping me?”

“Not at all. I’ll
enjoy it.” That wasn’t even a lie, even though Zane had told many to make women happy.

He
moved forward a step toward the coffee counter as the line shortened. This date might turn out to be all right after all. He’d assumed their coffee date would be filled with the latest club gossip or some other crap he had no interest in.

Missy—working in Nigeria and buying hiking boots—that was the last thing he’d ever expected, but it was a pleasant surprise
.

Their turn came and he glanced down at
her, a good head shorter than him. “What would you like?”

“Large regular coffee, please.”

Not the half-caff, low fat, soy, blended, sweetened, overpriced mess he’d expected her to order, but a plain old regular coffee. This girl was full of surprises.

“You got it.”
He nodded and turned to the barista while reaching for the wallet in his pants. “Make that two, please.”

While they waited
for the order, she asked, “How are your mom and dad?”

“Good.” At least they’d looked good for the short time he’d seen them today, which was the first time in close to a yea
r. He found things remained more peaceful on the family front if he restricted the one-on-one contact. “And yours? Are your mom and the senator well?”

“Very well, thank you. M
y mother said to send her and my father’s regards to you and your parents.”

Zane let out a laugh. “Tha
t will make my father very happy, I’m sure.”

Wasn’t getting the s
enator’s notice the whole reason for his father requiring he date Missy? Hell, even marry her—as if that was going to happen.

A crease wrinkled Missy’s pretty brow. “You and your father still not exactly seeing eye-to-eye?”

“You could say that, yeah.” Zane tossed a twenty on the counter and waited for change from the cashier.

“I was really surprised to hear from you
today. In fact, I didn’t even know you had my cell phone number.” The odd tone in her voice had him glancing at her.

The jig was up. Time to confess . . . at least
a small part of the truth. “My father gave it to me. He thought it might be nice if I gave you a call while I was in town visiting.”

“Oh.”
Her brows rose. “I imagine that made calling me the very last thing you wanted to do, because it’s what he wanted.”

Dam
n, this girl knew him too well. That was exactly how he’d felt. But not just rebellious, also trapped, like a cornered animal. His father was holding his future in his hands, contingent upon Zane’s compliance.

Scary that one visit home could transport him ten years back in his own personal growth. He realized he was still acting like that kid who would
always do the exact opposite of what his father wanted.

It was laughable really
after all he’d experienced in his life thanks to his chosen career. Things only a handful of other human beings had experienced. Yet, all it took was one visit with his old man to send Zane into a tailspin.

He
smiled. “Yes. That’s very intuitive of you, and also correct. But only because he still has the power to drive me crazy. Not because I didn’t want to catch up with you.”

Missy let out a breath
y laugh. “Zane, I can assure you, your parents don’t hold the exclusive on being able to drive their children crazy. Mine are right up there with yours. Believe me.”

Zane reached for the two coffee cups and handed one to her
. He tipped his head toward the side counter where the cream and sugar were set out for customers to use and she followed him over.

He put down his cup on the counter
and gave his full attention to Missy. “I’m glad I called you . . . even if it did make old Georgie happy.”

As she took off her own cup’s lid, she glanced up. “Are you
really glad?”

“Yes.” He imbued the single word with as much sincerity as he was capable of. “You’re one of the few people who actually understands what growing up
as George Alexander’s son meant.”

And how much it had messed him up—or drove him to excel and put him where he was today. It all depended how he looked at it.
Perhaps Zane owed Georgie a thanks for making him the man he was today.

Her hand paused on the
stirrer as she laughed. “Of course, I understand. I’ve grown up as the daughter of Senator Peter Greenwood. But unlike you, I’m still living at home.”

“Proving you’re a stronger person than I am.”
He took the sugar pourer Missy had finished using, surprised once again that she hadn’t opted for artificial sweetener like ninety percent of the women he knew would have.

“
Me? Strong?” She laughed. “Not really. After all, I am running away to Nigeria just to get some peace.”

“I’m not sure that’s the place to go if
it’s peace you’re looking for.”

Running away for a while was fine,
he’d done it himself, but Zane wasn’t thrilled with her choice of location.

There was too much unrest, too much going down in that region.
Then again, he’d joined the Navy when he’d run away from home. He’d signed up to have people shoot at him for a living, so he really couldn’t criticize her choice. He could only hope the missionaries or whoever ran the school she’d be working at had their shit together and were prepared for whatever might happen. Too many times the do-gooders weren’t prepared.

“My parents won’t be there
and that’s good enough for me.” She replaced the lid on her coffee and looked up. “Ready to shop?”

Zane
snapped his own lid into place. “Lead the way.”

She took a step toward the
exit, before she glanced back over her shoulder. “Prepare yourself. I’m going to need undergarments, as well.”

He laughed
as he stopped next to her. “I think I’ll survive a trip to the ladies’ lingerie department.”

“
I have no doubt.” She looked him up and down before reaching for the door handle.

This was turning out
to be a very interesting date, indeed.