SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle (131 page)

“Umar is very proud of what he and Prince Yohannis have accomplished with this facility.” Dr. Jamo snorted. “He liked bragging.”

“We have to get out of here.” Irish reached for Claire’s hand. “Come on.”

She avoided touching him and moved past him without breathing in his face.

Dr. Jamo nodded. “You must go first. If I do not make it out, it will not matter. I am a dead man.”

Claire stopped and faced her friend, tears welling in her eyes. “Dr. Jamo, you have to come with us. We’ll find a cure.”

“Not in time to save me.” He stood outside the door to his prison. “You must go. But be careful. If you have the virus, you could be spreading it to others.”

Holding a hand to her chest, Claire nodded. “You’re a good man and will be missed by your people.”

“Go. I will ensure others do not leave and spread the disease.”

“But the building will be destroyed.”

He nodded. “And the plague of death will be destroyed with it.”

“I can’t go.” Claire declared, walking toward Dr. Jamo. “I’m as contaminated as you are.”

“No. It’s spread by bodily fluids. You have not come in that close of contact.” Dr. Jamo waved toward Irish. “Take her away, quickly.”

Irish shouted to Swede and Big Bird who guarded the corridor into the laboratory. “Get out, now. This building is set to explode in less than ten minutes.” Then he advanced on Claire. “You heard the doctor. You might not even be infected.”

“We can’t risk it,” she said.

He didn’t give her the choice. Bending low, he plowed his shoulder into her waist, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Then he raced after Big Bird and Swede to the end of the corridor.

The two SEALs waited at the airlock door.

“Keep going,” Irish said. “Make sure the others extract. I’ll get Dr. Boyette out.”

“You might need help.”

“We’ll take our chances,” Irish said.

“Irish,” Tuck’s voice came through his headset. “Our target has been secured. What’s this about the building exploding?”

“If the alarms aren’t shut down in ten minutes, the entire complex is rigged to detonate.”

“Gotcha,” Tuck said. “Bugging out.”

“Irish, you’re insane. Put me down.” She squirmed within his hold.

“Not until we’re out of the building.” Irish climbed the stairs and headed for the rear exit.

“I can move on my own. You’re putting everyone else at risk.”

“I’m not leaving you inside,” he said, his hold tightening on her legs. Those beautiful sexy legs that had been wrapped around him a few short hours ago. He refused to let those legs, this woman, be buried in this hellhole.

“Put me down.” She pounded gently on his back.

He swatted her bottom, struggling to hold her as he reached the top of the stairs. “Shut up, woman. You’re not changing my mind.”

“Fine. You win. But let me help by carrying myself.”

Breathing hard, he set her on her feet, grabbed her hand and ran for the door. “We’re guessing D-minus two,” he heard in his headset. “Everyone better be on their way out now.”

Swede and Big Bird burst through the door first, clearing the perimeter.

Irish, several yards behind, hit the door, dragging Claire through. “We’re not safe until we’re well beyond the outer walls. Keep running,” he yelled.

Claire did her best to keep up.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed other SEALs pouring out of the front of the palace, racing for the gate.

Swede and Big Bird turned and leveled their weapons to provide cover.

Irish ran past the two men with Claire, determined to get her as far from the blast zone as possible. The high stone and concrete walls surrounding the compound would provide a good barrier, if they made it outside in time.

Irish didn’t feel they were safe until he passed through the gate and put as much distance between them and the palace. He dragged Claire another hundred yards farther before he slowed, his heart pounding, breathing hard.

A rumble started deep in the ground.

Tuck and the remaining members of the team streamed through the gate as the explosions breeched the thick walls of the underground laboratory. More explosions erupted from inside the palace. The walls shook and then burst outward. The heavy, domed roof at the center shuddered then collapsed inward.

Irish pushed Claire to the ground and covered her body with his as rubble spewed from the buildings. He lay for a long while on top of her as dust and debris showered down. When the ground stopped shaking and the world went quiet again, he heard voices in his headset.

One by one the members of his team sounded off. Every last one of them had made it out alive.

Irish rolled off Claire and lay on his back. “Are you okay?”

She rolled over, too, her hair covered in a layer of dust. “For now.” Claire turned to face him and glared. “You should have left me inside.”

He came up on his elbow and leaned over her. “Nope.”

“You could be infected with the virus. It kills.”

“Then we’ll die together.” He bent and claimed her lips in a long, soul-defining kiss he couldn’t have resisted had he tried. If this was the beginning of his end, he’d die a happy man, kissing the woman he knew in his heart he could love forever.

When he raised his head, he stared down into her eyes, illuminated by the moon struggling to shine through the cloud of dust hanging over the destroyed compound.

Claire raised a hand to his cheek. “You are insane.”

“I couldn’t leave behind the girl I want to date.”

“About that…” She trailed a finger along his dusty cheek.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t go out with me if I was the last man on earth.” He pressed a hand to his chest and heaved a big sigh. “Hearing that would completely crush me.”

She chuckled. “No, I was going to say…I’m thinking of contacting Fish’s girlfriend who has the floating doctor boat.”

Irish’s heart swelled. “Yeah?”

Claire smiled. “Assuming we make it out of Africa alive.”

“You know she docks near Virginia Beach when she’s not out doing her doctorly thing.”

“I know.” She stared up into his eyes. “There’s a certain SEAL I was hoping to see when I’m in port.”

“That SEAL better be me,” he said, making his voice into a low growl.

“Can’t think of one I’d love more.” She reached up, cupped the back of his head and pulled him down to kiss her.

In the desert of Africa, Irish had met the woman who completed him. A brave, intelligent, amazingly beautiful woman who wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her.

“Uh…” Tuck’s voice crackled in his ear. “If you two are through playing kissy face, let’s get out of here.”

“Sorry,” Irish said. “You’ll have to send out the HAZMAT team. The doctor and I will need to be quarantined for fourteen days until we’re cleared. We could have been exposed to the virus.”

“Goddamn it, Irish. I give you one simple task and you fuck it up,” Tuck teased.

“Not from where I’m standing, or sitting, or lying down.” He bent and captured Claire’s lips again, kissing her, loving every dirty, sexy inch of her, virus and all.

‡

“D
inner’s ready!” Claire
called out from the kitchen. “Ummm.” She turned and accepted a spoonful of seafood chowder from the chef. The explosion of flavors filled her mouth and made her want more.

Irish followed the delicious chowder with an equally delicious kiss.

“Where did you learn how to cook?” There were so many things Claire didn’t know about this man she’d been with for the past month. Every time she thought she knew all his abilities, he surprised her with something new. Especially in the bedroom.

“I learned from me darlin’ mum. The woman had a way with potatoes that could make a French chef cry.”

“Remind me to thank her.”

“You can thank her yourself. She’s coming to visit next week.”

“Next week?” Claire squeaked and stiffened. “I haven’t found an apartment yet. You can’t spring something like that on me.”

“Why do you need to find another apartment? Aren’t you comfortable here?”

Wide-eyed, she could only stare. “What will your mother think about you shacking up with a woman?”

“She’ll be glad I’ve settled down.” He handed her a set of oven mitts. “Some hungry men are waiting in there. If you’ll carry the bread, I’ll bring in the chowder.”

“But what about your mother?”

“She’s going to love you.” He kissed the tip of her nose and handed her the basket of bread. “Just like I love you.” Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her lips, his tongue sliding past her teeth to claim hers.

“Mmmm. Why did we invite your friends over when we could be enjoying this chowder all by ourselves?”

“Hey, I thought you two were feeding us.” Fish appeared in the doorway with Natalie pulled against his side. He stopped and snorted. “Sheesh. Leave a man and a woman together in quarantine for a couple of weeks and this is what you get. Mush, mush and more mush.”

Natalie laughed and took the breadbasket from Claire. “Where do we sign up for quarantine?”

Fish slid around Claire and Irish to collect the soup tureen. “Don’t mind us. We’ll just eat dinner while you two do your thing.”

Her hands free, Claire locked them behind Irish’s neck and returned his kiss, her leg sliding up the back of his, desire spiking in the tiny kitchen of the apartment they’d shared since they returned Stateside after they’d been cleared of any viral infection.

Although Africa had been her home all her life, she’d discovered home was where the heart was and her heart had been captured by a strong, sexy, incredibly handsome Navy SEAL. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The End

ELLE JAMES
also writing as
MYLA JACKSON
is a
New York Times
and
USA Today
Bestselling author of books including cowboys, intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edges of their seats. With over eighty works in a variety of sub-genres and lengths she has published with Harlequin, Samhain, Ellora’s Cave, Kensington, Cleis Press, and Avon. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories. Learn more about Elle James at
www.ellejames.com

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Or visit her alter-ego Myla Jackson at
mylajackson.com

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Read other stories in the Take No Prisoners Series:

SEAL’s Honor (#1)

SEAL’s Desire (#2)

SEAL’s Embrace (#3)

SEAL’s Obsession (#4)

SEAL’s Proposal (#5)

SEAL’s Seduction (#6)

Cora Seton

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When Navy SEAL Ben Warren is sidelined by an injury, he thinks love is off the table until single mother Caitlyn Cross reminds him that a warrior fights for what he wants.

‡

W
hen the chime
sounded to let the passengers know it was safe to unbuckle their seatbelts, Ben Warren waited until everyone else had filed off the plane before he took a deep breath, stood up from his cramped seat and accepted the cane the flight attendant held out to him.

“Enjoy your stay in Chance Creek.” She flashed him the same flirtatious smile she’d been trying out on him ever since they lifted off in Florida, but Ben remained immune to her charms. He didn’t need sympathy from her or anyone else and there was no other reason such a pretty woman would flirt with him.

Not now.

“Thanks.” He did his best to keep his tone civil, but the anger that haunted him these days threatened to rear its head, so he made his way awkwardly down the aisle ahead of her, planting his cane and maneuvering his weight in the too-small space. His slow progress only increased his irritation and Ben knew he’d been smart not to go directly home from the naval medical center. He wasn’t fit company for anyone, let alone his extended family, now that his injury had ended his career in the SEALs. Ever since high school, becoming a SEAL had been the pinnacle of his ambitions. For the last eight years he’d been on the top of his game; so proud of what he’d accomplished and of the service he’d rendered his country.