HOT SEAL Rescue (HOT SEAL Team - Book 3) Page 4

  She crossed her arms in mock defense. “No way.”

  He opened the door and stepped out. “Way,” he said, grinning.

  Her pulse jumped as he shut the door and strolled into the diner. Handsome asshole.

  7

  They reached the designated safe house around one in the morning. It wasn’t much more than a shack really, located in the middle of an arid landscape. They weren’t far from the Grand Canyon, though far enough. The house was small, tucked away on a plot of land where nothing grew other than scrub and cactus.

  Cody stood in the kitchen and dialed his HOT brothers. Viking answered this time.

  “Good to hear,” he said when Cody informed him they’d arrived at the safe house. There was a pause. “We did a little digging on Miranda Lockwood.”

  Cody watched the bedroom door where Miranda had disappeared. She’d been quiet when they’d arrived. Lost in her own thoughts. He’d actually thought she was warming up after the visit to the diner, but she’d gone silent again as the hours ticked by.

  “Yeah? And?”

  “And the CIA nearly had a shit fit when her name was mentioned.”

  Cody’s neck prickled. “Really? Did they say why?”

  Viking sighed. “You aren’t going to like it. They say she’s gone rogue. Say she’s dangerous and not to be trusted. They also want to know where she is so they can bring her in.”

  The prickling sensation grew stronger. “Did you tell them?”

  “No. But man, Mendez wasn’t happy when that phone call was done. He looked like he’d swallowed a nest of angry hornets.”

  Cody didn’t like to think of Colonel Mendez unhappy. He’d seen the skipper angry once, and it had been memorable. Not something you wanted to call down on yourself, that’s for sure. The dude was legendary in HOT—and legendary in spec ops.

  Since Cody’s team had joined HOT—the first SEAL team to do so—he’d learned a lot about the Army colonel in charge, though not as much as there was to know. He suspected that nobody would ever know the full story of Mendez. The legend was enough.

  “Mendez doesn’t believe she’s turned rogue, does he?” It was intuition that told him that much, but he knew it was true. If Mendez had believed it, Cody and Miranda wouldn’t have made it this far. They’d have been picked up hours ago.

  “Nope. But there’s something going on, something big, and you’re going to have to lie low out there for a few days while we figure it out.”

  “Roger that—but is this something we’re officially involved in now?”

  “Officially? No. But we aren’t turning her over. Yet.”

  Yet. That was the word Cody didn’t care for. “I don’t think she’s gone rogue. I think she’s scared of something.”

  “We’ll do what we can. You know that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, Cage says if you didn’t want to go to the wedding, you could have just said so.”

  Cody laughed. “Tell him I’ll be there.” It was a week away. Surely he wouldn’t still be holed up in the desert with a sexy CIA agent by then. HOT would figure out what was going on, and it would all be over.

  “Hooyah. We’ll be in touch.”

  Cody hung up and went over to the bedroom door. He stood there for a long moment before knocking. When there was no answer, he knocked again, his pulse kicking up. Surely she wouldn’t run out on him now. It would be foolish to try to escape out here in the middle of nowhere. He had the keys, so she couldn’t take the truck. And leaving on foot was a suicide mission.

  Still, he shoved the door open when there was no answer. It took a moment, but the trickle of water in the shower told him where she’d gone. He had to be sure, however. He didn’t really know Miranda Lockwood, didn’t know that she wouldn’t try to escape. She could have turned the shower on to throw him off his game.

  Cody strode toward the bathroom door. It was open a few inches, and there was steam rolling through it. He heard nothing beyond the water, however. Nothing to indicate there was anyone in the shower.

  He stood, straining to hear her—and then he pushed the door open all the way. At the same moment, the shower stopped and the curtain squealed open on plastic rings. Miranda blinked, her golden eyes wide, her body glistening with moisture.

  He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head, the ends damp and clinging to her face. Her breasts were firm and round, her nipples stiff in the cool air wafting over them after the hot shower. Her waist dipped inward before her hips flared out in an exaggerated curve. Her skin was creamy, pale. She trimmed. That was his first thought when his gaze landed on the triangle between her legs. Her hair was short, golden, trimmed almost bare but not quite. He could see her pussy lips, the pink clitoris between them.

  His dick grew instantly hard.

  “What the fuck?” she demanded, grasping a towel and hiding her assets.

  It was too late for his dick, but he swallowed and tried to regain his equilibrium. “I thought you’d tried to escape.”

  Her face was red, and not just from the shower he’d bet. She wrapped the towel tightly around her and held on to it as if he planned to rip it away in the next moment.

  “Why the hell would I do that? Where would I go? In case you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing but desert in all directions.”

  He had noticed. But it was dark, so he wasn’t sure she had. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, sunshine. Could be anything.”

  “If I was planning to run away, I wouldn’t slink off into the night. I’d put my fucking gun to your head and demand the keys, asshole.”

  He held up both hands, partly to keep her gaze from straying to his crotch. If she saw his response to her naked body, she’d be even more pissed. “Hear you loud and clear, babe.”

  “Fine. Now get out and let me dry off. And don’t call me babe.”

  He backed away, then stopped and met her angry gaze again. “Just for the record, you put a gun to my head and this isn’t going to end well for you.”

  Because it had to be said. She was a trained operative, but so was he. And he wasn’t going down easy.

  She stared at him evenly. “I don’t plan on it, cowboy. For now, you’re all I’ve got.”

  8

  Miranda didn’t move for a long minute after he disappeared through the door. Her heart pounded and her skin prickled with heat—but that was probably just the shower. Except it was cold now that the water was off and the air was wafting over her body.

  Whatever. She was not ashamed if a man saw her naked. Hell, she’d gone topless for the job before. Worn a teeny tiny G-string and danced on a bar—not only when she was eighteen and stripping for cash, but also as an undercover agent. She had no problem showing her body. Never had.

  So why the heat of embarrassment now? Lord have mercy, she wanted to clap her hands to her cheeks and see if they were as hot as they felt.

  And she knew why she was hot, didn’t she? The way he’d looked at her—and the way she’d responded when he did. The heat. The sizzle in the air. Whoa and damn. If nipples were capable of standing up and saying Howdy, stranger, then hers sure had. Not only that, but she’d felt the slickness of arousal between her legs.

  He’d been aroused too. She hadn’t missed that. How could she? My God, he was huge. The outline of his hard cock against his jeans had been impressive. She’d wanted to see more, but thank God she had more sense than that. She was capable of casual sex for sex’s sake—wouldn’t be the first time—but this wasn’t the right time for it. She needed to keep her wits, not lose her mind over a Hollywood-handsome SEAL with a big dick.

  She almost laughed. Earlier, she’d thought he probably had a little dick just because that’s the way the world worked. But of course he didn’t. Every inch of him was perfectly appealing.

  And she had no business thinking about it.

  Miranda toweled off, unclipped her hair from on top of her head—thank God she’d found a hair clip in the drawer�
��and slipped into the jeans and T-shirt that had been waiting for her in the Dodge. Too bad they hadn’t thought about providing her with pajamas.

  She’d searched the drawers and closet in the bedroom and they were empty. Well, except for sheets and blankets. She could have wrapped one of those around her instead of getting dressed again, she supposed.

  She stared at herself in the mirror, at her red cheeks and bright eyes. Lord, what was Cody going to think if she walked out there like this?

  She turned on the cold water and doused her cheeks. It helped somewhat. She took a deep breath and went out into the small living room. The house was tiny with a galley kitchen, dining nook, and microscopic living room. She hadn’t explored beyond the first bedroom and bath she came to, but she hoped like hell there was another. Because if she had to share with Mister Tall, Dark, and Sinfully Sexy— Well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

  Cody looked up from where he sat on the couch, his gaze gliding coolly over her form. She couldn’t help but glance at his jeans for evidence of that hard-on—but it was gone. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or disappointment about that.

  “Everything okay?” he asked. As if he hadn’t just seen her naked. As if he hadn’t had wood.

  “Fine. You?” She sank onto the chair opposite and pulled her knees up. She should probably go to bed, but she was too keyed up.

  “The CIA says you’re a rogue agent.”

  And that took all the fight right out of her. Her chest felt as if someone had wrapped a hand around her heart and squeezed. “What?” She barely got the word out.

  “That’s what they told my commander.”

  Her throat ached and her eyes stung. “It’s not true.”

  “Why would they say that, Miranda?”

  She had no idea. “I don’t know. I told you the mission was top secret—I was supposed to infiltrate Victor Conti’s operation. I was going in through the porn side.”

  His eyes flashed and his jaw tightened. “The porn side? Just what were you planning to do?”

  She swallowed. “I wasn’t going to be an actress if that’s what you’re thinking. I was, uh, someone who could get girls for the films. Fresh, new faces.”

  He looked fierce in that moment. “A talent scout? How the fuck do you know he wouldn’t have wanted a performance from you just to prove you knew what you were doing?”

  Her pulse quickened. “I didn’t know that at all. Maybe he would have.”

  “You were prepared to fuck him? Or fuck an actor on camera?”

  She pressed her hands to her temples. “I was prepared to make him think I’d fuck him—or an actor, yes. It wasn’t going that far though. I wasn’t going to let it.”

  “Jesus.” Cody swore long and hard. “Is that what the CIA does these days? Pimp their fucking agents to porn purveyors?”

  “I volunteered.” She licked her bottom lip. “It was the only way in. We’ve tried other ways—they didn’t work.”

  An understatement considering Mark was dead.

  “You must want to see him taken down pretty badly.”

  Miranda closed her eyes and bit down on the inside of her cheek. How much could she say to this man? On the other hand, what could she lose? Her own people said she was a rogue agent. She took the burner phone from her pocket and flipped it open. Then she dialed Badger’s number.

  “Mandy, thank God.”

  “Is it true?” she demanded. Her gaze met Cody’s. He was watching her sympathetically, and that made her breath quicken a fraction.

  “Is what true?”

  “I’m a rogue agent now? I need to be taken down and handed over before I do any damage?”

  “Shit.” She heard him blow out a breath and she knew he was smoking. “I’m trying to fix this, Mandy, I swear.”

  “What’s there to fix? Someone betrayed me to Conti. Someone wants me brought in. What do you think the chances are I’ll come out of it alive if I’m taken now?”

  “It’s not like that. I swear it’s not. Come in and we’ll work on it together. Show good faith and it’ll all turn out right.”

  Her eyes stung. Good faith? “’Bye, Badger. Give my love to Susan.”

  She ended the call with his voice fairly screaming through the line. But there was nothing he could say. No way he could convince her. She dropped the phone and put her fingers against the sides of her head, pressing as if she could stop the pain from growing any worse.

  “You okay?”

  She couldn’t look at him. “No.”

  He blew out a breath. And then he was moving. When he sat beside her and dragged her against him, she stiffened for a second. But he didn’t do anything inappropriate. He held her loosely, allowing her room to escape if she desired.

  She did not want to escape. Instead, she turned her face into his broad chest and breathed him in. He smelled good. Clean and masculine. It had been so long since she’d let a man hold her. So damn long.

  “Why don’t you believe what they’re saying about me?” she asked, her voice muffled against the fabric of his T-shirt. Really, this was completely wrong and so not her—but it felt too good, and she was at such a low point that she wanted someone else to be strong for a moment.

  His fingers stroked over her hair. The touch was light, but it went deep into her soul for some crazy reason.

  “Maybe I’m wrong, but rogue says to me that someone no longer plays by the rules. That they have an agenda beyond the official agenda and they are willing to do anything to get it. Would someone who’d turned against the CIA care whether or not her hostage lived? Or would she kill him as soon as he’d served his purpose?”

  She sucked in a breath. “She’d let him live if there was no point in killing him. And there wasn’t. You got me out of the Venetian. That’s all I needed.”

  “Yeah, well, you could have forced me into the parking garage and into a vehicle and then dumped me along the way.”

  “You took my gun. I couldn’t do any of it.” She sniffed.

  He chuckled softly. “True. But let me have my fantasy, okay? So you didn’t shoot me then—and you didn’t take any of the opportunities you’ve had since I returned your clip to leave me for dead.”

  She twisted her fingers into the fabric of his T-shirt. It was much too intimate, but she liked it. “I’m biding my time,” she said. “You’re still useful.”

  He laughed out loud this time, and a wave of relief washed over her that he’d found it funny. Yeah, she was a smart-ass and sometimes it went too far. Maybe she shouldn’t have said it at all—but he’d been amused, and that was a good thing.

  “I live to serve, baby.”

  She pushed back enough that she could see his face. He was so close, so damned appealing, and warmth flooded her. Eyes the color of the desert sky stared back at her.

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Those lips begged to be kissed. They were firm, smooth, and sensual. She imagined them against hers, imagined how they would feel and taste.

  “Miranda.”

  She snapped her attention to his eyes again. They were still blue, still clear—but now they gleamed hotly, their depths intense.

  “Yes?” She tried to make the word innocent, clueless.

  “I just saw you naked. I’m not likely to forget that sight anytime soon. And while I didn’t come over here to be a douche and make a move on you while you’re upset, if you keep looking at me like I’m something you’d like to saddle up and ride, I’m going to oblige your curiosity.”

  Her heart was in her throat, fluttering away like a moth’s wings beating against the jar someone had trapped it in. She didn’t know this man at all, and yet a part of her very much wanted to go there with him.

  Crazy.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, pushing away from him even more.

  He took his arm from around her and put his hands together in his lap. “Don’t apologize. I like the way you look at me. But I’m only human, Miranda. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t what you really wa
nt right now.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” she admitted.

  He pushed to his feet and went over to the tiny kitchen where he pulled a beer out of the fridge. “How about one of these?”

  “Sure.”

  He got another one out, popped the tops, and brought them back. After handing her one, he took the seat opposite her again. And yes, she glanced at his dick to see if it was hard. It was, which only made her wetter.

  “I don’t think you’ve gone rogue,” he said, propping a foot on the coffee table. Hiding the evidence of his arousal, sad to say. “But you’re in over your head, that’s for sure.”

  “Do you think this is something HOT can sort out?” Because she was done believing in the agency. Done believing that even Badger could do anything for her this time. She was on her own for the first time in years, and she didn’t quite know how she was going to get out of this mess without help.

  He took a sip of the beer. “I think it’s possible, yeah.”

  She played with her bottle but didn’t drink it. “I hope you’re right. Because I think if you don’t, I’m a dead woman.”

  His eyes flashed. “Not on my watch, babe. Promise.”

  9

  She was quiet again. Lost in her own thoughts. Cody watched her surreptitiously. He didn’t miss the way she toyed with her beer or the way she frowned as she gazed at seemingly nothing. She was troubled.

  And why wouldn’t she be? Someone had betrayed her. Her own agency had turned against her. She was a rogue on the run now, a wild card until and unless HOT could figure out what was going on and who had set her up.

  Cody blinked. He’d never really considered that she was a rogue, but why not? He didn’t know her, didn’t know what she was capable of. Anyone could snap when given the right incentive. Just look at his mother.

  “Do you trust this Badger person?” he asked, and her head came up.

  “Yes, of course.”

  But was that a hint of uncertainty in her voice? Or just irritation?

  “Tell me about the operation, Miranda.”

  She nibbled the inside of her lip, and his groin tightened at that tiny maneuver.

  “I already told you.”