Stranded with the SEAL (2 page)

Come morning, the woman would be feeling better and he could find another way to get in and out of Steele’s compound. Without any weapons or ammunition, a vehicle, and without any C4. “I knew I was going to run out of C4,” he muttered, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

When daylight came, he’d make a new plan. But no matter what happened, he wasn’t leaving this mountain until Steele was dead. He owed it to Ralph.

His eyes drifted shut. He was asleep within minutes.

L
ogan O’Malley was reading
in his childhood bed, his feet dangling off the end like the lanky giant he was. His plan to go to the beach with the rest of HERO Force had petered out before it really got off the ground, with Cowboy and Matteo being the only ones to actually make it to Cabo San Lucas. Seemed those two clowns were the only ones who actually did a lot of things.

Logan certainly hadn’t planned on spending the week in his hometown, meaning only to stop off for a night or two before heading to Cabo, but his mother was so happy to have both her children home at the same time, he’d decided to stay.

The door opened and his sister walked in without knocking. “Jesus, Logan. Put some fucking clothes on.”

He looked down at his striped bikini briefs, half-covered by a Batman comforter. “It’s my room, Charlotte. And when did you start talking like that?”

“Janie and Sarah are coming over to get ready for the reunion, and you have the better bathroom. And I’ve been talking like that for most of my adult life, thank you very much. Now I’d like you to pack up and go shake your money-maker someplace else.”

He frowned. That wasn’t true. She’d only been talking that way since marrying Loser Rick fresh out of high school, and she never lost the colorful vocabulary after she divorced him. But the rest of her little speech piqued his interest. Out of all of his sister’s friends, they were getting a visit from his personal favorite, and he smiled a wolf’s grin. “Sarah Davenport?” She’d been a cute little prude in high school, all buttoned-up sweaters and perky little tits.

Charlotte pointed a manicured red nail at him. “Don’t even think about it. The last time you were home, Trisha Palmieri wouldn’t speak to me for a month afterwards. You said you’d call her.”

“I did call. I left my wallet on her dresser and I had to get it back.” He winked. “Besides, you don’t even like Trisha Palmieri.”

“That’s not the point. Just because you went from a geeky geek to a hot geek doesn’t mean you can go all Don Juan on my whole high school yearbook.”

“We’re not in high school anymore, Sis. I can date your friends if I want to.”

Logan’s cell phone chimed, and she turned to face him, hand on her hip and a gleam in her eye. “Then I can date yours, too.”

“Sure.”

She smiled widely and he instantly realized his mistake.

“Except Cowboy,” he said, reaching for his phone.

Charlotte scowled. “One of these days, you’re not going to have any say in the matter. He likes me, too, you know.”

Logan screwed his face up and blew out air, but he knew she was right. He’d seen the way his HERO Force co-worker looked at his sister, and he knew exactly what the bastard was thinking when he did it. Hell, it was written all over his face that he wanted to get into Charlotte’s pants, and he probably would have done so already if he and Logan didn’t work together.

Cowboy was a great guy to have on the Teams, and even better with HERO Force, but he was about as far from a stand-up guy where women were concerned as a guy could get, bedding every pretty girl within a fifteen-mile radius, and taking in more area than that for the hot ones. He imagined Charlotte on Cowboy’s arm, and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I don’t want to hear this.” He answered his phone. “Logan.”

“It’s Jax. I need you to do something for me.”

Logan’s pulse picked up speed. Jax hadn’t given him any reason to think he was pleased with Logan’s performance since hiring him for HERO Force six months ago. Sometimes Logan was all but sure Jax regretted it.

Charlotte crossed her arms and whispered, “I’m not a virgin, brother-boy, and you don’t get to decide who I fuck.”

Logan frowned and gestured for her to be quiet. “Shoot,” he said into the phone.

Jax’s voice was like a bark. “I need you to trace Hawk’s phone.”

Logan’s stomach sank and tightened into a knot.

It doesn’t mean Hawk did anything wrong.

“Something wrong?” Logan asked.

Charlotte cocked her head and he waved her away, even as blood rushed to his cheeks, turning them hot. He moved to his computer. She didn’t leave.

“I just need to find him,” said Jax.

“He’s not answering?”

“Just trace the damn phone, Doc.”

Logan pursed his lips as the program loaded. Doc was the nickname the other guys gave him when he joined HERO Force because he was a medical doctor and a Ph.D., but the nickname hadn’t really stuck and sounded especially forced on Jax’s lips. Logan swallowed hard against his throat, which had gone suddenly dry.

You knew you shouldn’t have told Hawk anything.

Logan’s fingers moved stiffly over the keys, typing in a series of codes and password overrides. “I’m almost there.”

You’ll type in his GPS and it will come up with Cabo or Miami or something like that.

He cut and pasted the serial number for Hawk’s phone into the tracking software, convinced the screen would say anyplace in the world except the one place Hawk shouldn’t be. The screen refreshed, a series of coordinates and a general location searing into Logan’s retinas.

Damn it all to hell.

His balls would be on the chopping block for this, his coveted and beloved position with HERO Force nothing more than a memory. This was the only thing he wanted to do, the only team he wanted to do it with. He licked his lips and found his voice. “Warsaw, Colorado.”

Jax exploded into a string of swearing that put Charlotte’s vocabulary to shame. “Hawk’s gone rogue, and now we have to stop him before he does something stupid.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “This would probably be a good time to tell you he’s been asking for the latest intel on Steele.”

“
What?
”

Charlotte raised her eyebrows and sucked in a breath, the look she gave him clearly saying,
You’re in trouble
. Logan gestured violently toward the door, but she ignored him and turned on the TV.

Jax was screaming in Logan’s ear. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“I assumed you knew.”

“How much did you give him?” asked Jax.

“Daily updates this week. When I heard the phone, I assumed it was him because he didn’t call yet today.”

Jax exploded again and Logan let the insults wash over him. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, reverting to his more formal address for his boss. “I should have checked with you first.”

“Damn straight you should have checked with me! Give me his coordinates.”

Logan clicked to another screen and rattled off a series of numbers. “Sir, I’m only a few hours from there. I can drive up and check on him myself.”

Charlotte hit him on the back and he gaped at her.
What was that for?

She shook her hand at the TV, where traffic was crawling through snow-covered streets. The headline at the bottom of the page read, “Storm of the Century Strikes Colorado Mountains.”

Logan reached for the remote control and turned up the volume. “Scratch that, Jax. We have a problem. As we speak, Warsaw Mountain’s in the middle of the worst blizzard they’ve had in years.” The scene changed to a round and balding weatherman in front of a color-coded map. “Hang on,” Logan said into the phone. “The weather’s coming on.”

“…a northeasterly direction. Conditions rapidly deteriorated through the early morning hours, resulting in the governor declaring a state of emergency for the northern part of the state here in red, as well as the closure of all interstates and local expressways, with a ban on unnecessary travel in place for Dublin and Marcos Counties. With more than three feet forecasted for the highest elevations, we don’t anticipate that travel ban to be lifted anytime soon.”

Logan rubbed his lower lip. He knew as well as anyone what would happen if they couldn’t get to Hawk before Hawk made it to Steele.
Total annihilation
. Sweat broke out on Logan’s palms and brow. “They’re expecting three more feet on Warsaw Mountain,” he said into the phone.

“Did Hawk make it to Steele?” barked Jax. “Is he at the top of the mountain?”

“Checking the coordinates now.” Logan copied and pasted the numbers into a map program, the view zooming in from the globe to the United States to Colorado in a whoosh. A pinpoint appeared. “Not yet, sir. He’s eleven miles from the compound.”

Another stream of profanity raged in Logan’s ear, followed by a heavy, angry huff. “Then we’re fucked,” finished Jax. “Two goddamn years and he’s going to go in there and blow everything to hell, and HERO Force to hell with it. All for Ralph, like he thought I wouldn’t take care of it.”

Logan held his breath. His eyes met Charlotte’s as she mimed her concern. But he knew better than to speak, the temptation to fill the silence nothing compared to his desire to slip unnoticed from this conversation. He didn’t know who Ralph was, but the one time he’d heard the name — while Jax and Hawk were screaming at each other across the conference table about Steele — told him the topic was more explosive than nitro.

The voice of a newscaster trailed on in the background. “…some concern about the structure, as it is scheduled to be torn down and rebuilt in the spring after failing an engineering inspection in the fall.”

Jax’s voice was deep and foreboding. “Where is he now?”

Logan refreshed the software, wondering if this was how the next hour would be spent — tracking Hawk’s phone as they watched him approach the Steele mansion, stay for a while, and retreat. The screen repopulated and Logan frowned. “He’s not moving.”

“What do you mean?”

“His coordinates are exactly the same, right down to the seconds. He hasn’t moved at all since our last scan.”

Jax growled. “Wait two minutes and try it again.”

A knock at the door and it opened, the alabaster face of Sarah Davenport contrasting sharply with her coral-painted lips. Her eyes dropped to Logan’s nearly naked body, roving up his legs and pausing too long where his brief-clad body bent in the chair before making her way to his face. She smiled tentatively, and Logan imagined those coral lips giving way beneath his kisses before Charlotte corralled her into the hallway and shut the door behind them.

God, it would be good to get laid, and from the look on Sarah’s face, that was a distinct possibility. He shook his head as he stood and pulled on pants, then sat and refreshed the screen again. “Same coordinates.”

“What does it mean?”

“Could mean he left his phone there. Could mean he’s taking a leak, or a nap. Whatever the reason, he isn’t moving.”

“He might be stuck in the storm,” said Jax.

Logan bobbed his head. “Possible.”

“If he’s stuck in the storm, he hasn’t killed anyone yet.”

“True.” Logan knew what was coming.

“How fast can you get yourself to Gamma Squadron headquarters?”

“Couple hours.”

“Then do it.”

The line went dead in his hand.

So much for Sarah Davenport.

He only mourned the promises of those coral lips for a moment, because he knew his HERO Force brothers were more important than any woman could ever be.

S
he smelled
like honey and musk, the scent surrounding him as he moved closer to her sleeping form. It was so cold, and he craved her warmth as much as he craved the curves of her body cushioning the hard planes of his own.

There was an ache deep in his hip like he’d worked out too hard, another in his quads. What the hell had he been doing? The woman was beginning to fade, her scent more ethereal, and he lunged for her, inhaling the smell deep into his lungs. The tiniest touch of woodsmoke lingered on her skin, and he opened his eyes, confused.

Where the hell was he?

So damn cold. Even with a thick comforter, he was chilled clear through to his bones. He worked to remember where he was.

He could hear the crash of the accident, remember running on his aching knee, the unconscious woman in his arms. The cabin.

He looked around, taking in the dark room and the fire that had nearly burned out. Pursing his lips, he exhaled, half expecting to be able to see his own breath, but could not.

He took in the sleeping form on the couch opposite him, immediately recognizing the woman from his dream.
Olivia.
He needed to be beside her, needed to feel her warmth against his skin, just as he had dreamed. He sat up, pulling his covers with him. Crossing to her, he placed his hands on her cheeks, then her forehead. For the second time that day, he wondered if she’d died from her injuries.

Fear trickled down his spine like drops of icy water. He kneeled beside her and felt her neck for a pulse, finding a steady beat.

Alive, then — but surely not well. A hard shiver shook his shoulders. What had happened to the furnace? The first thing he did was to turn the heat up, but clearly it wasn’t working. He’d check it out in the morning. Right now, he needed more wood for the fire, and he stood, resolute. Intense cold always reminded him of BUD/S training, and being repeatedly showered with a fire hose in the freezing cold.

It reminded him he could withstand anything.

It was what he was trained to do.

As he stepped onto the porch, the wind pushed him full in the face. Bracing himself, he filled his arms with firewood, then went inside and skillfully laid the logs on the embers. He covered Olivia with his comforter and slipped in behind her. It was a tight squeeze on the narrow couch, but they needed each other’s warmth more than he needed to be comfortable.

He pulled her tightly against his body and wrapped his arms around her. She was cold enough that she seemed to suck out the little warmth he had left in his own body, like he was lying in bed with a popsicle. He rubbed her arms and slipped her leg between his own, willing the heat from his body into hers.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered into her ear, wondering if she could hear him and fearing she could not.

This was his fault. He’d done this to her.

Guilt was like an aching pit he was being pulled into, the knowledge of his own responsibility for her current state overwhelming him. What if she never woke up again? What if she couldn’t walk, or needed medical care he couldn’t get her here?

He rubbed his cheek on her back. “I’m sorry.”

The fire began to crackle and catch. He took in her profile, the golden light of the fire illuminating her skin. There was a dark bruise beneath her eye and another on her forehead, but neither could hide what a beautiful woman she was, with fine bone structure and lushly rounded lips.

Up close her features shone with a natural kind of beauty that stirred something deep in his belly. He ran his hand up to her shoulder and down to her waist, feeling the womanly rise and fall of her silhouette.

He gritted his teeth together. He had to get her warm, but getting turned on was not part of the bargain. He forced himself to look at the fresh bruises that marred her honeyed complexion.

She was his responsibility.

“I won’t let you down,” he whispered. She half turned at the sound of his voice, clearly startled.

“Olivia?”

Her teeth started chattering and her torso began to shake.

“Come here,” he said, shifting so she could roll her chest toward him. “I’ll keep you warm.”

She did as she was told, but as soon as she started to move she called out in pain.

“What’s wrong?”

Her only answer was to press her head hard against his chest and cry. He gently threaded his fingers through her hair and she swatted them away.

“Does your head hurt?” he asked.

“Mmm hmm.”

He wished he could make the pain go away, wished he could take back the accident entirely. Why had fate put her in his path? He shook his head. He was so close to finally getting revenge.

His brow creased, honor and revenge colliding in his mind. He needed to take care of Olivia, and he needed to take Steele out, once and for all.

Most of all, what he needed was a plan to do both, without sacrificing one for the other.