HOT SEAL Lover (HOT SEAL Team - Book 2) Read online

  “Fucking hell,” Remy muttered. “Now what, asshole?”

  He did something next that shocked her to the core. He stood up in the bed, took aim with his rifle, and yelled—in Arabic? The leader seemed to understand, because he turned his head and gazed at Remy.

  When the man spoke, she had no idea what the reply was. But Remy did because he answered, the gun never wavering. The laser dot on the man’s forehead told her what he was targeting. And then the dot flickered and she realized it was the conjunction of several dots as all the SEALs took aim.

  The dots split again, shining upon multiple heads. But it wasn’t enough, because there were twenty horsemen, nine SEALs, and Ian Black. Those weren’t good odds, which everyone had to know.

  In the next instant, a shot rang out, the sound coming toward them.

  Remy yelled at her to get down, and she dropped to her side, flattening herself as much as she could while bullets flew and the air smelled sharp and flinty. The gunfire was deafening. The truck lurched into gear, men shouted, Penny screamed—so did a couple of the men, though not the SEALs—and the bullets kept ricocheting through the air.

  Christina’s heart hammered and her ears ached. The truck picked up speed, but it wasn’t quite enough. Cash McQuaid grunted and dropped his rifle. Blood seeped in a dark stain over the fabric of his desert uniform, but he unholstered his sidearm and kept firing.

  She wasn’t certain when the gunfire stopped, but it did. One minute it was there and the next it wasn’t. The SEALs didn’t leave their defensive positions, however. She dared to ease up and peek over the side of the truck. The other vehicle that had been approaching them earlier was a Land Rover, and now it raced down a parallel road, heading toward the interior of Qu’rim.

  Behind them, there was nothing. Or so she thought. The closer she looked, she realized the lumps on the road were bodies. The horses had bolted.

  Hot tears sprang into her eyes at the horror of what just happened. Men had died. And Cash was hurt, which she remembered right about the time Alex Kamarov grabbed him and cut his sleeve open.

  Blood streaked his arm and there was a neat hole…

  Oh dear God. Christina put her hand to her mouth and turned her head, retching, trying hard not to be sick. This wasn’t her thing, wasn’t anything she could get used to.

  Remy put an arm around her and dragged her against him. “He’s okay, cher. It’s fine. Camel and Cowboy are gonna field dress the wound and cover it up again.”

  She buried her face against his shoulder because she could—and because it felt so good. Comforting. Yes, he smelled of sweat and guns and sand, but she didn’t care.

  “Those men,” she said and couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “They shot first, honey.”

  “Ian Black?”

  “He’s alive. He disarmed the guy with the weapon and then used it on him. The Land Rover was here for Black. He’s off to wherever he was headed, probably without a fucking scrape.”

  “And us?”

  Remy squeezed her. “Almost out of here. Just a few more miles to go.”

  She pushed away from him and searched his face. She didn’t know how many days’ growth of a beard he sported, but it was sexy nonetheless.

  “You’re okay, right?”

  “I’m not hit.”

  “But you have been before?”

  He sighed, his dark gaze sparking. “I’ve never been hit bad, no. Nicked once.”

  Christina shivered, both at the thought of him being shot and at the scene she’d just witnessed. She’d grown up in the South, her father and brother went deer and gator hunting, and so did practically every boy she ever knew in school. Some of the girls too.

  But men? She’d never seen men shot before, and that was a new, sickening sensation for her. Those men might have had families—wives, children, brothers, sisters. She tried to remember they’d wanted to take her and Penny and they’d fought over that right. No one had forced them to fire their weapons or start the battle.

  Tears pressed hard against her eyelids. She hated this place. Hated that she’d ever come here. People could be so horrible. Right now, Baq was probably burning. What had happened to those people in the convoy they’d left behind? What about the ones who’d died when the bomb went off?

  Remy rubbed a hand up and down her arm, as if he sensed what she was thinking.

  “It’s gonna be all right, cher. Not long now.”

  She couldn’t shake the feeling that it would get worse before it ever got better.

  It wasn’t over yet. Remy knew it, but he wasn’t about to tell Christina and confirm her fears. The nomads weren’t a threat anymore, true. The next threat lay in front of them. The sun would be up in a few more minutes, and they were nowhere near the coast. They could see it, but they couldn’t reach it just yet.

  And they had to reach it. That’s where the boat was. Where their path to freedom lay. Choppers couldn’t land anymore because of the threat of RPGs. The airport in Baq was controlled by the rebels. That left Akhira and the sea.

  But to get to the sea, they had a long stretch of road to drive along first. A dangerous, hot, dusty road that ran straight through the middle of contested territory. They’d hoped to be into Akhira by daybreak, not rolling toward it with several miles left to go.

  But Ian Black had insisted they leave the safe house at two a.m. Not a moment sooner or later, because that’s the point from which he calculated his contacts would be in place.

  Remy tapped his mic. “Any word on the road?”

  “We’re half an hour late. The contacts could be gone,” Viking replied.

  Indeed, they’d been supposed to meet Ian Black’s contacts a few miles from here where they would be waiting with a refrigerated truck that could get the SEALs and their cargo to safety. The truck was supposed to be heading into Akhira for a produce pickup. The drivers went to the docks and loaded perishable cargo before turning around and driving back into the interior.

  If they dropped off a load of SEALs while there, so what?

  But first the SEALs had to get to the rendezvous point. Remy locked gazes with Money. The dude probably wasn’t comfortable, but he was stable now that Camel had dressed the wound and shot him up with some painkillers. He shrugged with the shoulder on his good arm as if to say, “What you gonna do?”

  What, indeed.

  The sun kept climbing upward, its light spilling across the golden sand and illuminating the desert as it made the journey toward the horizon. Another couple of minutes, and it would spill light over everything in its path.

  The truck sped down the embankment road, heading for the flat desert. When they hit the bottom, whoever was driving put his foot hard against the pedal because they picked up speed quickly.

  Nobody said anything. Not that they could be heard over the wind anyway.

  Christina had shifted herself away from him and sat with her back to the cab, her knees up, her arms clamped around them. He wanted to draw her into the circle of his arm again, but he needed both hands free in case they encountered more trouble.

  He glanced at her from time to time, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Her eyes had that faraway look of someone desperately trying to be anywhere but where they were. He got it. The violence back there had been pretty raw and sudden. He doubted she’d ever seen men shot before. Watching people die wasn’t an easy thing, even if they meant you harm.

  “Ten minutes,” Viking said. “Any longer and our ride is gone.”

  “Copy,” Remy said.

  When the truck started to slow a few minutes later, Remy turned and peered around the cab. Sure enough, a refrigerated truck sat by the side of the road, waiting. The men inside threw the doors open and jumped down as they approached. One went around and swung open the cargo doors.

  The truck rocked to a stop, and the SEALs jumped down first, helping the civilians to the ground before ushering them toward the back of the semi. Remy was reluctant to leave Christina’s side
, but he turned her over to Camel with a glance and went to join Viking, who stood with two of the men who’d been waiting for them. The third was climbing into the truck they’d arrived in. So he could get rid of it, presumably.

  “We good to go?” Remy asked of nobody in particular.

  Viking nodded at the two men. “They said there’s a roadblock leading into Akhira. It’s a government checkpoint. They haven’t had any trouble getting through lately, but the king’s troops are on edge after yesterday.”

  No fucking kidding there. They still had to be reeling from losing the seat of government to a bunch of terrorists and rebels. And while the Qu’rimi government was technically an American ally, that didn’t mean getting through a checkpoint would be as easy as flashing a passport and saying howdy, y’all.

  “Anything happen in Akhira the past few days?” Remy asked the two men.

  The SEALs hadn’t been briefed on any activity, but that didn’t mean people who lived there wouldn’t know a bit more about the day-to-day status of their city.

  “Nothing,” the first man said. “But the city is on edge. The rebels have supporters here. It is not a good time to be in Qu’rim.”

  No, it definitely wasn’t.

  “We should go,” Viking said, squinting into the distance. The sun was fully up now, golden light spilling across their faces with the promise of heat to come and chasing away the lingering shadows beneath the dunes.

  There was no more hiding in plain sight now.

  “How long to the port?”

  “Half hour,” the man said. “We go as fast as we can.”

  24

  It was cold inside the truck. Christina shivered and huddled against Remy. He slipped his arm securely around her shoulders as he held her against his body. A couple of the SEALs looked at them with interest in the dim light from a lantern someone had turned on, but no one said anything. It was clearly not a secret anymore that there was something going on between them.

  “What happens now?” she whispered to him.

  “We’re hitching a ride to the port. From there, it’s a boat to a carrier at sea. Then we’ll have you on a helicopter to the nearest airport. From there, military transport to Germany.”

  She blinked. “Germany?”

  That seemed like the long way around, but he sounded confident.

  “Standard procedure. You’ll be flown to Ramstein Air Base and checked out at the Landstuhl military hospital. They’ll send you home as soon as possible.”

  Her heart thumped. “Where will you be?”

  His eyes glittered. “I won’t be there, Christina. I’ll have to meet you back home.”

  Disappointment flooded her. And, yes, even a touch of fear. They’d been together for what, two days now? It wasn’t long, but a lot had happened—and he made her feel safe. She had no idea how she’d feel once he was no longer with her.

  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  He looked down at her, studying her. “You sure about that?”

  She knew where the question came from. And a part of her still wanted to run. But mostly she didn’t. She was all in now, whatever happened.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “That’s good, baby,” he said for her ears only. “Because we have a lot of catching up to do.”

  She shivered anew, but not because she was cold. “I can’t wait.”

  He squeezed her to him, his eyes hot and possessive, but he didn’t make a move to kiss her like she wished he would. Then again, maybe it was best he didn’t. They weren’t exactly alone, were they?

  The truck rumbled along at speed for about fifteen minutes, then it slowed. Christina didn’t miss the way the SEALs looked at each other or the way their grips tightened on their weapons.

  But the truck didn’t stop, merely swung into a turn and kept rolling. A few minutes later, however, they did stop.

  This time the SEALs looked intense.

  “Everyone stay quiet,” Viking said. “This is most likely a checkpoint. They’re going to open the truck and look inside. You need to stay absolutely silent, got it?”

  He wasn’t talking to his SEALs, of course. The civilians all nodded. Penny turned her head into Robert’s chest and buried her face as tears rolled down her cheeks and her body started to shake.

  Christina was done feeling sorry for the woman. For heaven’s sake, if she wailed while the doors were open, they’d be compromised. And Christina might just choke her for it.

  “I’m serious as fuck,” Viking said. “You have got to stay quiet. I’m shutting off the lantern now, but we’ll turn it back on as soon as they’re gone.”

  The light winked out. There was banging on the back of the truck, and then the doors creaked open and daylight streamed inside.

  She could hear men talking in Arabic, but she didn’t know what they were saying. She watched Remy’s face in the shaft of light coming over the boxes. If it was something bad, she knew he’d understand.

  Everyone was quiet, even Penny, though Robert pretty much had her face smushed against his chest in an effort to keep her from sobbing aloud. Robert looked a bit desperate, and Christina knew it wasn’t an easy task.

  Maybe Mrs. Robert was looking better to him now. Maybe Mrs. Robert was sensible and not flighty. On the other hand, Robert got what he deserved for banging his secretary on a business trip.

  Eventually the doors shut again, and they were plunged into darkness. Someone breathed a sigh of relief. The truck’s engine began to rumble, and they started forward. The lantern came back on, bathing the group in cool light.

  Penny’s sobs became audible then. Christina wanted to pinch her. And then she wanted to tell her to grow up and stop being helpless.

  Nothing irritated her more than a helpless woman. A woman who needed rescuing and couldn’t lift a finger to help herself was a menace. If this were a survival course, which in a way it was, Penny wouldn’t make it if she had to fend for herself.

  Then again, what did Christina know about survival? Not much, even if she did like to watch Bear Grylls on television from time to time. But she knew she wouldn’t lie down and cry like Penny. She’d fight to the bitter end if she had to.

  The rest of the ride seemed to take forever. The truck slowed, sped up, stopped, started again, turned, and repeated the whole cycle numerous times. Finally they came to a halt, and the rumble of the engine ceased. Viking switched off the lantern.

  The rear doors banged and then swung open. This time a man called out. Viking answered, but Christina’s eyes were on Remy. He didn’t look worried, which was a good thing.

  “Let’s go,” Viking said.

  The SEALs went first, jumping from the trailer and turning to help the civilians. Christina’s legs felt stiff when she hit the pavement. They were a combination of cold and cramped, and she shook each one in turn to wake it up.

  Remy stayed close by her side, his gaze darting over their surroundings.

  They were in a warehouse. Oil and the salty smell of water and fish battled for supremacy in the air, which meant they were at the port. Christina let out a breath. They’d made it this far, but she didn’t think she’d truly relax until she was on an American ship in the Gulf and Qu’rim was far behind.

  The driver of the truck came over to talk to Viking and Remy. They shook hands with him, and then he was climbing into the cab and starting the engine again. With a wave, he backed out of the warehouse and the truck rumbled down the street.

  “All right, kids,” Viking said. “We’re about to make a run for it. As soon as I give the signal, you will each be escorted out of this warehouse and onto the dock by your own personal SEAL. Do not stop. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. You stop when your SEAL tells you to stop. Not a moment before. You do what you’re told, without question, and everything’s going to be fine. Any questions before we go?”

  No one said anything. Not even Donovan Taylor, the loudmouthed attorney. The amateur filmmaker looked about as disgusted as he
had from the first. Paul and Robert had blank looks. Penny’s puffy, tear-streaked face was pale.

  “Then we’re off to see the wizard,” Viking said cheerfully. “Homestretch, people. Almost there.”

  Remy’s hand wrapped around hers. A second later, they were on the move. They trotted toward a door at one end of the warehouse rather than the opening the truck had gone through. When they were all there, two of the SEALs went through with guns at the ready. Then someone whistled, and Remy urged her forward again.

  The pier was across the street. Christina jogged beside Remy, darting her gaze over the area as they moved along the pavement. It seemed empty, but that didn’t mean they were safe yet.

  A large boat sat beside the pier, its red hull stained with rust. But they ran past the boat, feet slapping the wooden pier, equipment squeaking and banging with every step. At the end of the pier, a black—or was it gray?—armored boat appeared. It slowly motored up to the pier, and her heart skipped at the sight. Was it here for them? Or here to stop them?

  The boat flipped around, and Christina could see men in black assault suits, holding weapons, lining the deck. The SEALs didn’t break pace but kept running toward the boat, which was all the answer she needed for whose side they were on. When the SEALs got to the boat, the men onboard reached out to help pull the civilians up.

  It took Christina a moment to understand that they were also SEALs, and relief rolled through her. One of the newly arrived SEALs reached for her then, but she shrank away, unwilling to let go of Remy. She clutched his hand, but he wrested free and gripped her shoulders, his gaze fierce.

  “No, baby, you have to go now.”

  “You’re coming with us, right?”

  Three of the men from his squad were on the boat now. Why wasn’t he?

  His mouth was a flat, hard line. “There’s not enough room, honey. Next boat.”

  Christina’s body shook with fear and fury. “You didn’t tell me it was going to be like this.”

  He cupped her cheeks. “I told you I wouldn’t be with you. I told you I’d see you at home.”