SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle (17 page)

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Authors: S.M. Butler,Zoe York,Cora Seton,Delilah Devlin,Lynn Raye Harris,Sharon Hamilton,Kimberley Troutte,Anne Marsh,Jennifer Lowery,Elle Kennedy,Elle James

Tags: #Romance, #Military, #Bundle, #Anthology

BOOK: SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle
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One of the men ran a small marina while the others worked in the various restaurants and businesses on the island. They had dossiers on the men from the CIA, and the plan was to track each of them down and follow them as they went about their daily business. If HOT was lucky—and they really needed to be lucky, Ivy thought—they’d find the submarine and the nuclear weapon before it could do any damage.

Ivy stuck the key in the lock and opened the door. Blessedly cool air hit her as she walked inside. The bungalow wasn’t big—a main living area, a kitchenette, and a bedroom with an en suite bath—but it was clean and cool.

And it was all hers. There were definitely some perks to being the only woman on a mission. As she understood it, there were a couple of women who worked for HOT as special operators—but they were on other assignments at the moment. That was fine with her because she preferred to be alone. Ivy kicked off her shoes and unzipped her case. Ace had escorted her back to her apartment to grab some clothes for this trip. The IT department was still working on a trace on her mysterious phone call, but there’d been nothing further.

Ivy pulled out a long sundress with spaghetti straps and some clean underwear. There was time for a shower before she had to meet with the guys, so she went into the bathroom and turned on the water. She set her clothes on the counter and her gun on a high shelf inside the shower enclosure, away from the spray. Once the water was hot, she stepped under the stream and sighed. It had been a long day, and she needed the relaxation a good hot shower could provide.

You need more than a shower for relaxation
.
You need a big cock and a man who knows how to use it.

Ivy shoved that thought away. Hard. But Dane was in her head now, and no amount of wishing him away would make him go. She closed her eyes and let herself picture his body—smooth muscle, bronzed skin, a happy trail of dark gold hair arrowing down from his belly to his cock. And then, yes, that beautiful hard cock of his, rising straight and proud and ready to take her to heaven.

Ivy bit her lip on a moan. Her nipples peaked and her pussy ached. Against her better judgment, she slipped a finger between her folds, found the slick bundle of nerves at the center. Lightning sizzled along her nerve endings as she stroked her clit.

How long had it been since she’d come? It felt like months, though it couldn’t really be that long.

Though maybe it could.

Ivy stroked herself, her body tightening and aching from being so long denied. It wouldn’t take much at all—

A sound made her eyes snap open—and a man stood inside the bathroom, the open door silhouetting his dark form. For half a second, she thought it might be Dane.

But he took a step toward her and she realized he was too dark, too short to be Dane. Ivy’s heart froze—and then she reached for her weapon.

*

Dane was surveying
the property around his dwelling when he heard the sharp crack of a gunshot coming from the direction of Ivy’s bungalow. He sprang into motion, crossing the short distance between bungalows and leaping up the steps. The door was locked. He shoved his shoulder into it a couple of times, but the chain held. Drawing his .45, he skirted the small bungalow and went around to the back entrance.

The door was open. After clearing the entry, he leapt into the room, ready to do battle. There was no one inside, no signs of a struggle.

“Ivy!” he shouted.

“Dane?”

He followed the sound of her voice and ended up in the bathroom. The steam from the shower thickened the air, and he went over and turned it off. Ivy leaned against the wall, her gun hanging limply in her hand.

She was naked, and his body stirred at the sight of her creamy skin and wet hair. Dane tamped down on his libido and reached over to take the gun from her. She looked up then, her green eyes a little stunned.

“What happened?” he demanded.

She swallowed. “I was in the shower when I opened my eyes and saw a man standing inside the door. I grabbed my gun from the shelf—I fired, but my hands were wet and my aim slipped.”

Dane reached for a towel and handed it to her, then turned and went out the door so he could sweep the bungalow again. There was no one inside and no one lurking in the bushes. Whoever had broken in was gone now. He could try to follow them, but in the end he couldn’t leave Ivy. Dane went back into the bathroom to find Ivy wrapped in the towel and combing her hair with deliberate strokes.

When she’d told him she wanted to join the DEA, he’d hoped like hell she wanted to be an analyst, someone who studied the intel and made reports. He’d never pictured her in the field, but of course that’s where she wanted to be.

And he hadn’t been there for most of it. Hadn’t actively seen her in danger before now.

He didn’t fucking like it. He holstered his gun and stood there waiting for her to say something.

“I shouldn’t have missed,” she said angrily.

“It could happen to anyone,” he told her. “Your hands were wet and you were startled.”

Her eyes met his in the mirror. She was pissed. “
You
wouldn’t miss. You’re trained to do nearly everything while soaking wet, I imagine.”

“Yes.” He said it simply because it was true. As a SEAL, he was expected to spend a lot of time in the water. He was as comfortable there as he was anywhere. “But you aren’t a SEAL, Ivy.”

She sniffed. “Did you find where he broke in?”

“The back door’s open, but it doesn’t look forced. Did you check it when you came inside?”

He could see the color creeping into her face. “No. I had a lot on my mind and I… didn’t.”

He knew that admission galled her. Ivy was proud and—usually—thorough. In school, she’d been the one who wrote her papers weeks before they were due while he was usually floundering on the last day.

“You can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

Ivy spun to face him. “And what do you propose I do? Go home? Not happening, mister.”

“That’s not what I said,” he grated, his voice rough. “You need to move bungalows. And you shouldn’t be alone.”

Her mouth fell open a little. “In spite of what just happened, I
can
take care of myself. I was caught off guard this time, but it won’t happen again. No resort Peeping Tom is going to scare me a second time.”

Dane wanted to grab her and shake her. “And what if it wasn’t a Peeping Tom? What if this is related to that threat you got back in DC?”

Ivy blinked. “How could it be? Unless someone is following me everywhere, or they’ve tapped my phone—which they have
not
, by the way—how could it be related? And why? It’s not like I’ve discovered the holy grail to taking down the Ruizes and they need to stop me. I’m a thorn in their side, but no deeper or more annoying than I’ve ever been.”

He knew that had to pain her to admit. Fighting drugs was often like playing Whac-A-Mole. Stop one conduit and others sprang up in their place. Ivy, being the meticulous sort, wouldn’t like that one bit.

“You can’t ignore the possibility. You need to move. And you need backup.”

Before he could say anything more, voices he recognized came from inside the bungalow. He gave Ivy a hard look and then left her alone so she could get dressed. Some of his new teammates clustered in the living area, weapons drawn, while others still came in from the rear door.

“It’s okay, guys,” Dane said. “The area is clear.”

Ace shot toward him, looking about as pissed off as a fighting rooster. “Where’s Ivy?” he demanded. “And what the fuck happened here?”

Dane resisted the urge to wrap his hands around the little fucker’s throat, but only barely. He didn’t like the guy, no matter that he seemed to care about Ivy’s welfare. Probably because he had what Dane didn’t, which was a relationship with Ivy that wasn’t combative. He got to be with her and see her smile, hear her laugh. Dane hadn’t heard her laugh in years.

And he damn sure hadn’t been the recipient of one of her smiles in ages.

“Ivy’s fine. Someone busted in here and startled her while she was showering. No sign of the intruder.”

Ace puffed up. “Are you sure it wasn’t you, asshole? Trying to get a peep at the ex? Get your jollies for old times’ sake?”

Dane growled and took a step toward Ace, but Flash was there, wrapping a hand around Dane’s arm and squeezing. He hadn’t had a lot of time to get to know these guys, but they’d absorbed his presence like he was one of them. They had his back, and that meant a lot.

“Not helpful,” Flash said in a low voice. “Focus on the task at hand.”

“Shut the fuck up, Agent Martin,” Matt said, “or you can be sent home on the next plane out of here. You’re here to observe, not comment, got it?”

Ace grumbled something, but he turned away and went over to flip through the resort flyers sitting on the table. Dane didn’t think he was really seeing the brochures so much as he was doing something to keep himself from exploding. But still, Dane hoped the asshole booked a shark cage tour in a faulty cage…

Focus.

“We have to move her,” Dane said.

“Agreed,” Matt replied. “Big Mac and I will swap with Ivy.”

Kev MacDonald nodded in agreement. Someone had told Dane that Kev’s wife was part of the team, which he found fucking amazing since women weren’t allowed to be SEALs, but she wasn’t on this op. She was in DC, working on an intel assignment. Nick Brandon’s fiancée was a member too—a fucking sniper of all damn things.

“She can’t stay alone.” Dane didn’t like the idea of Ivy being by herself, even if she was proficient with a weapon. She was no damn sniper.
You don’t really know that, dude
.

Yeah, yeah he did. Otherwise they’d be cleaning up a body instead of wondering who’d broken into her bungalow and where the asshole had gone.

Ace snorted as he turned back to them. “And who’s going to stay with her, buddy? You? Like hell.”

“No one is staying with me,” Ivy ground out.

Everyone turned as she walked out of the bathroom. She was wearing a long, body-hugging black dress and sandals. Every sweet curve was evident, and Dane’s throat tightened. Jesus, how could he still be so attracted to this woman?

“I’ll change bungalows, but I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No, you don’t need a babysitter—but you do need a bodyguard.”

She whipped her head around to glare at Dane. “You don’t get to have an opinion about my life anymore, Dane. You gave up that right years ago.”

Dane wanted to punch something. “This isn’t personal, Ivy. It’s fucking common sense. You need someone watching your back.”

“And that someone is gonna be me,” Ace said, walking over to stand beside Ivy. “She’s my partner, and we take care of each other.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed as he studied them all. “No, it’s not you, Ace,” he said coolly. “This is my operation and you’re an observer. You’re staying with Fiddler.”

Chase Daniels nodded, his expression brooking no argument. “That’s right, man, you’re with me.”

“Dane, you’re with Ivy,” Matt said. “Try not to kill each other, you hear?”

“If you want that, then you shouldn’t put us together,” Ivy snapped.

Matt turned to look at her. “Sorry, Agent McGill, but it makes the most sense. You two know each other, you don’t like each other, and there’ll be no awkwardness about staying in the same bungalow. You’ve seen each other naked, and you’re both apparently done with that part of the relationship. If I stick one of my other guys with you, who the fuck knows what will happen? I can’t afford any distractions—not to mention that Dane might explode if he thought someone else was making moves on you.”

“Why the fuck would I care?” Dane asked.

Matt snorted. “Dude, we always care. You might not want the lollipop anymore, but you don’t want anyone else having it either.”

Ivy’s eyes widened. She popped her hands on her hips. “I am
not
a lollipop, and I won’t be ordered around like my opinion doesn’t matter—”

“But it doesn’t, Agent McGill,” Matt said. “You’re an observer, and you observe at the pleasure of Colonel Mendez—to whom I report. If you don’t like what I’ve told you to do, there’s a plane back to DC with a seat for you. Your choice.”

If eyes could shoot laser beams, Ivy’s would have done so right about then. Dane didn’t think he’d ever seen her so pissed, even when she’d been glaring at him and telling him that he could be a SEAL or he could be with her. She’d made him so fucking mad, he’d told her he’d rather be a SEAL than put up with her shit another minute.

Yeah, what a great day that had been.

“Fine,” Ivy said, drawing herself up to her full five foot four inches. She somehow managed to look down her nose as if she were about six inches taller. It was a helluva trick. “But don’t you dare blame me when this turns out to be a bad idea.”

“It won’t be… will it, Viking?” Matt arched one eyebrow expectantly.

Dane forced himself to smile. He could back out and let someone else guard Ivy… but damn if the Army guy hadn’t figured him out after all. He didn’t like the idea of someone else staying with her. Didn’t trust that another man wouldn’t be so blinded by her charms that he might not pay as much attention to her safety as he should.

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