Man Killer, SEALs of Shadow Force: Spy Division Book 2 (SEALs of Shadow Force Romantic Suspense Series)
Page 15
Scrambling backward, he lifted his hands in the air and glanced up to see Joey Tomas holding the gun on him as he reached down to help Ms. Caines to her feet.
“You okay, boss?” Joey asked as he shuffled Megan behind him. Megan coughed, rubbing her throat. ”You with us now?"
The nightmare flashback still hung on the edges of his mind, like sleep in the corners of his eyes. Aidan sat on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Jesus, Megan. I'm so fucking sorry."
Joey pocketed the gun. “My fault. We knocked, but you didn't hear." He was close to six feet with dark hair and deeply tanned skin. Megan peeked over his shoulder, her generous heels giving her the ability to stay behind Joey's protective stance and stare at Aidan with wide eyes. "I know it's your day off, but we have a new arrival. Mr. DeMarco sent us to wake you. I should have done it alone."
Always dangerous to sneak up on him, especially when he was dead to the world. The PTSD was borderline these days, but still a constant shadow. Maybe if he hadn't been up until four AM working on the project hidden behind the false wall in his room, hadn't been so deeply asleep, he wouldn't have come out of it ready to kill someone.
He scrubbed his face. “Yeah, you should have." Joey knew about the PTSD, the nightmares. Knew about his past in that Russian hellhole. Not everything, of course, but enough.
Goddamnit, what if he’d hurt Megan? Killed her? He shut that line of thought down, knowing he’d figure out something later to apologize to her. “What's so urgent?"
“The new arrival is Protocol Alpha. Mr. DeMarco said you’d want to handle her security personally."
Aidan scratched the back of his head, squinted at the sunlight coming through the patio doors near the bed. He'd never hung blinds or curtains, and while he didn't have a fancy room overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, he could see a sliver of water from his balcony. “Who is she?"
Joey shook his head and shrugged. “No clue."
Megan, braver now, stepped out from behind her protector. “She isn't on the guest list. There're plenty of rooms available, but not Alpha rooms. The suites are booked!”
The Gulf Breeze Spa and Resort sat on the pristine beaches of South Padre Island, Texas, and hosted a wide assortment of rich and famous visitors from all over the world. Actors, sports players, tycoons and billionaires…as well as a few spies and lowlifes like him.
Clients fit into one of three categories: alphas, betas, and omegas. Alphas were the big whales, the billionaires and tycoons. Whomever this woman was, she obviously took it for granted they’d have one of their three famous penthouse suites available for her at a moment’s notice.
Aidan sometimes resented that kind of person, one who had privileges he couldn't even dream of and took the world for granted. Not that he had any desire to be rich or famous, but common decency and unselfishness didn't cost a damn thing in his world.
Doesn't matter what I think, or who I like and don't. This is the job. Besides, truth was, he was married to a very rich woman. “What time will she be here?"
Megan had gone to Aidan's closet and pulled it open. She flicked hangars, withdrawing a fresh suit to hang on the bathroom door.
Joey glanced at his watch. "DeMarco sent a limo to the airport to pick her up, but apparently she's driving. Should be here in eight minutes."
Eight minutes. Great. “Give me five. I'll meet you downstairs."
***
Joey was an efficient right-hand man and had Aidan’s Protocol Alpha security team lined up at the front entrance by the time he made it downstairs. Megan had a personal maid and butler standing across from Joey and the team, along with the resort concierge and doorman.
It was as if they were lining up for a royal visitor. Hell, maybe they were. Wouldn't be the first time a member of a royal family spent the week with them. They usually brought their own security and even their own chef. In that case, Aidan and his team played second fiddle, only lending backup when necessary. It was a pain to stay out of the way of royal guards, but in a way, it was an easier gig than being in charge of some dickhead who thought his shit didn't stink.
Today's visitor was probably some monarch’s daughter or sister, or maybe farther down the line—sister-in-law, cousin, girlfriend.
Didn't matter. The job was the job, no matter who showed up. An Alpha got top-line everything, from security to services at the spa. There were on-site trainers and physical therapists, cabanas down by the water with their own personal waiters, a variety of massages, body treatments, and health food available 24/7.
Martin DeMarco disembarked from the elevator, straightening his tie and smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He met Aidan's eyes and clapped him on the back as he walked by. “An early Christmas present," he said, winking at Aidan. "I can't believe she's here."
“Yes, sir," he said automatically, hoping Megan wouldn't report the morning’s unfortunate incident to their mutual boss.
December was low season, the rich and famous spending the holidays with family and friends rather than at a ritzy health spa. A few here and there might despise the holidays or not have anyone to spend them with, and those misfits occasionally visited, but for the most part, December was spent prepping for the January rush, when even the Beta and Omega rooms were packed.
Through the wide expanse of glass windows, Aidan saw a slick, silver Maserati fly down the palm tree-lined drive. The woman behind the wheel had her window down, long, coppery strands blowing out the opening. Large, round sunglasses obscured her face, but as she drew to a stop at the spa’s front entrance, Aidan’s stomach dropped.
This had to be part of the nightmare, a lingering aftereffect. A hallucination at the very least, brought on by too little sleep and too much alcohol before he’d crashed into bed in the wee hours of the morning.
Because God Almighty, the woman behind the wheel could not be who he thought it was.
DeMarco looked everyone over, nodded his approval, and made for the door, the doorman opening it for him. As the woman emerged from her car, the valet hurried from behind his small desk to offer a hand. She accepted, smiling at him before turning to face Martin, who threw his arms open wide—not just to welcome her, but to embrace her.
That's when Aidan knew for sure—this was worse than a nightmare. Worse than any PTSD flashback.
The woman wore a silky, red dress molded to her generous curves, and thick wedge heels that emphasized her sexy calves. The smile she gave Martin was that of a million-dollar model, her skin the color of the soft sand all around them.
Out under the canopy, Martin embraced her in a full bear hug, kissing her cheeks and calling her tender names. She laughed and spoke in low tones back to him, indulging his fatherly admonishments for not visiting sooner, for not warning him of her visit ahead of time.
Keeping an arm around her waist, he drew her past the decorated urns of flowers, vines, ferns, and the tiny lights and sparkling ribbons to emphasize a tasteful holiday decor, leading her inside.
Pulling himself up to this full six-foot, four inches, Aidan clamped his jaw shut to keep a myriad of curses he hadn’t used since he was a SEAL from spilling from his mouth as the woman removed her sunglasses and looked everyone over.
The staff smiled politely—except for Aidan’s team—as Martin introduced them for the Alpha’s approval. Security members did not smile. When they made it to the end of the line where Aidan stood, he kept his hand—the one he usually offered to the guest—behind his back so he wouldn’t strangle her.
Martin beamed, his grin still Cheshire Cat. “And of course, you remember my head of security.”
The intense, golden-brown eyes that haunted his dreams as much as that damn Russian prison, took their time rising up to meet his. “Hello, A.”
Just like earlier, his mouth was too dry to speak, his head pounded. His chest felt the clamp of the vise around his ribs. A lifetime of memories flashed through him—Vegas, Camp Swampy, their last mission together when she’d nearly died. Drawing breath w
as out of the question.
Unfortunately, killing the woman he'd wedded, bedded, and saved from prison was too.
At his complete and utter silence, Bree DeMarco Russo-McNamara lifted one corner of her mouth and sighed. He knew that sigh—that unending annoyance at him apparently still embedded in her system like it was her very DNA.
“Good to see you again, too, hubby” she murmured, grabbing her uncle’s hand and strutting away.
Grab your copy now!
Romantic Suspense & Mysteries by Misty Evans
SEALS of Shadow Force Series: Spy Division
Man Hunt
Man Killer
Man Down
SEALs of Shadow Force Series
Fatal Truth
Fatal Honor
Fatal Courage
Fatal Love
Fatal Vision
Fatal Thrill
Risk
The SCVC Taskforce Series
Deadly Pursuit
Deadly Deception
Deadly Force
Deadly Intent
Deadly Affair, A SCVC Taskforce novella
Deadly Attraction
Deadly Secrets
Deadly Holiday, A SCVC Taskforce novella
Deadly Target
Deadly Rescue
The Super Agent Series
Operation Sheba
Operation Paris
Operation Proof of Life
The Justice Team Series (with Adrienne Giordano)
Stealing Justice
Cheating Justice
Holiday Justice
Exposing Justice
Undercover Justice
Protecting Justice
Missing Justice
Defending Justice
The Secret Ingredient Culinary Mystery Series
The Secret Ingredient, A Culinary Romantic Mystery with Bonus Recipes
The Secret Life of Cranberry Sauce, A Secret Ingredient Holiday Novella
PNR & UF by Misty
Paranormal Romance
Witches Anonymous Step 1
Jingle Hells, Witches Anonymous Step 2
Wicked Souls, Witches Anonymous Step 3
Dark Moon Lilith, Witches Anonymous Step 4
Dancing With the Devil, Witches Anonymous Step 5
Devil’s Due, Witches Anonymous Step 6
Dirty Deeds, Witches Anonymous Step 7
Wicked Wedding, Witches Anonymous Step 8
Urban Fantasy
Revenge Is Sweet, Kali Sweet Urban Fantasy Series, Book 1
Sweet Chaos, Kali Sweet Urban Fantasy Series, Book 2
Sweet Soldier, Kali Sweet Urban Fantasy Series, Book 3
Sweet Curse, Kali Sweet Urban Fantasy Series, Book 4
About the Author
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans has published fifty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. She got her start writing in 4th grade when she won second place in a school writing contest with an essay about her dad. Since then, she’s written nonfiction magazine articles, started her own coaching business, become a yoga teacher, and raised twin boys on top of enjoying her fiction career.
When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies. A registered yoga teacher and Master Reiki Practitioner, she shares her love of chakra yoga and energy healing, but still hasn’t mastered levitating.
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