The Rogue Warrior: Navy SEAL Romances 2.0

by Anderson, Cindy Roland

  “You dog,” Jace said when he heard Logan was flying on a private jet to a secluded beach house in North Carolina. “Are you sure you don’t need backup?”

  “I might, but I’m not calling you if I do.” He headed out of the kitchen to go pack his bags. “Not after you let me make a fool out of myself.”

  “Oh come on. That was funny,” Jace said. “Seriously, how could you not know Weslee Campbell is the hot girl from Ground Zero?”

  “Because I use the stuff from Outdoor Energy.”

  “Better not let Weslee hear you say that,” Jace said from behind him. “They’re rival companies.”

  “Guess I can’t pack any of my Outdoor Energy shirts then.”

  That made Jace laugh. “Since she’s just the mission, I’d pack a few of them just in case she makes the moves on you.” He grinned when Logan shot him a surly look. “For whatever reason, wealthy, beautiful women find you attractive.”

  “Summer Bauer was not a woman.”

  One of Jace’s brows lifted. “Dude, I saw her. She is definitely a woman.”

  “She’s nineteen.”

  “Eighteen is considered an adult.”

  “Why don’t you remind her she’s an adult the next time she pitches a fit for her daddy to buy her a Tesla even though she’s driving a new Mercedes Crossover.”

  “At least she has good taste in cars.” Jace slugged Logan in the arm. “Her taste in men is highly questionable.”

  Logan smirked and threw a wadded-up Outdoor Energy shirt at him. “North Carolina is sounding better and better.”

  Thankfully Jace had a date and left Logan alone to finish packing. He wasn’t sure how long the job would last, but he packed for two weeks. If the op went on longer than that, he knew how to do laundry.

  The drive didn’t take long. Logan frequently ran this stretch of beach, so he was familiar with the ritzy homes. But as he parked his Jeep in front of the bungalow, he felt like he was about to face enemy insurgents. He took in the opulent dwelling and shook his head. His idea of a bungalow was not congruent with the gorgeous ocean-front house. He knew what property cost in San Diego and this was a prime location. It was hard to imagine the house was only used a few times a year.

  Climbing out of his Jeep, he took note of his surroundings. If stalker-fan-boy knew Weslee was staying here then he was probably watching right now. Logan didn’t catch sight of any lurking strangers as he approached the front door.

  The security agent from Sutton’s opened the door for him. The scent of freshly baked bread made Logan’s mouth water, reminding him that he’d missed dinner.

  “Everything quiet?” he asked the man.

  “Yes, sir.” The guy glanced at his watch. “Jenkins will be here at 2300. You can call me if anything comes up before then.”

  “Thanks, man,” Logan said, shaking his hand. He waited for the guard to exit before he closed the door and locked it. Eager to check out what smelled so good, Logan turned and almost plowed over Weslee. “Hey,” he said, unable to hide his smile when her eyes zeroed in on his shirt.

  Self-preservation and a little streak of rebellion made Logan wear one of his Outdoor Energy shirts. Weslee Campbell was not happy about it.

  Chapter 3

  Weslee wasn’t prone to violence, but after the message from Dax, her traitorous ex-fiancé, she wanted to take a pair of scissors to Logan’s shirt. Given the smug look on his handsome face, she knew that’s exactly the reaction he wanted. She eyed the shirt’s design concept and almost demanded that he take it off right now. However, seeing the former SEAL shirtless wouldn’t help her cause in trying not to be attracted to him.

  “Hello, Mr. Steele.”

  “Mr. Steele?” he said, quirking a dark eyebrow. “You remember my name’s Logan, right?”

  “Forgive me,” she said, giving him a tight smile. “It somehow slipped my mind.”

  “No worries.” He pointed to her Ground Zero shirt. “Nice shirt.”

  “Thank you.” She narrowed her gaze. “Wish I could say the same about yours.”

  A wicked grin split his face before he laughed outright. Weslee tried not to notice the dimple in his cheek, but there it was, making his chiseled face boyishly charming. She ordered her body to stop reacting to this man. The butterflies dancing in her stomach completely ignored her demands.

  “Do you want me to take the shirt off?” His fingers tugged at the hem, lifting the edge just enough to give her a small preview of sculpted abs.

  Yes! the butterflies said as they fluttered wildly in her stomach. “Absolutely not!” she said, reaching out to pull the shirt back down. Her fingers grazed the hard wall of his muscled stomach, and she froze. He did too.

  Barely able to draw in her next breath, she looked up at him. Blue eyes the color of sapphires held her captive. The amusement faded away as something undefinable flickered in its place.

  “Weslee?” Inez called out from the kitchen. Weslee jumped back from Logan just as Inez entered the room. “Oh, hello, Mr. Steele.” She wiped her hands on the front of her apron. “I’m Inez Markham.”

  “Logan Steele,” he said, taking Inez’s small hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Likewise.” The friendly smile disappeared from her nanny’s face as she glared at Logan’s shirt. “We have a dress code here, young man,” she said, snapping both her hands to her thick waist. “And it doesn’t include that T-shirt.”

  A wry grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Miss Campbell already informed me of that.” A playful gleam danced in his eyes. “She almost ripped it right off me.”

  “I did not,” Weslee said. “I’m the one who kept your shirt on.”

  “Why on earth would you do that?” Inez asked, like taking off a former Navy SEAL’s shirt was completely normal. “Take it off him, and I’ll burn it for good measure.”

  Logan watched her closely, probably thinking she was crazy. The only thing crazy was that she’d ever considered marrying Dax in the first place. When her ex had jumped ship and started working for Outdoor Energy, he’d stolen Weslee’s design concept for the very shirt Logan was wearing.

  “I’m sorry about the shirt,” Logan said. “I promise never to wear it again in your presence.”

  “If you want any of my biscuits and gravy you will never wear it again. Period.” Inez held out her hand, palm up. “Hand it over.”

  “Inez!” Weslee said. “He doesn’t need to take off his shirt right now.” She shot Logan an irritated look. “He can wait until he’s in his room.”

  “New shirt, young man,” Inez said, shaking a finger at him. “Or no supper for you.”

  Logan laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll go dispose of it right now.”

  “Thank you.”

  Weslee waited until Inez went back into the kitchen before she dared look at Logan. She was embarrassed by her poor manners. “I’m sorry for overreacting. It’s been a bad…let’s just say that on any other night I would’ve laughed it off.”

  “Something tells me Ms. Markham would still feel the same way.”

  “She’s just very overprotective of me.”

  He studied her, his dark lashes hiding his eyes. “I’m guessing there’s a story behind this shirt?”

  “Yes, but now it seems silly that I reacted that way.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m truly sorry. You’re welcome to wear…keep the shirt…I still wouldn’t advise you wear it if you want to eat any of Inez’s cooking.”

  He laughed softly. “I’ll go change just as soon as you point out my room.”

  Weslee showed him his room, which was situated on the main floor. The view from this room was stunning. French doors opened onto a balcony overlooking the ocean. Her parents had always stayed in this room whenever they visited. Weslee could picture her mama sitting on one of the chairs reading while her daddy sat across from her working on his laptop. “I hope this will be okay,” she said, stepping aside to give Log
an a clear path into the room.

  He eased past her, and she caught the masculine scent of his soap. It smelled better than the key lime pie Inez had made for dessert. “This room is amazing,” he said, turning back to look at her. “I didn’t kick anyone out of here, did I?”

  “No.” She crossed her arms as if hugging herself. “My parents used to stay here.”

  Compassion crossed his features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sure this is hard for you.”

  Not trusting her voice, Weslee nodded her head. Someday she would stay in this room, perhaps with her future husband. For now, she was happy in the yellow room on the second floor.

  “Hey,” Logan said, “I’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

  “That’s not necessary.” She eyed his large, muscular frame. “My daddy was tall too, so this room has a California King bed. I doubt you’d be comfortable on the couch.”

  “I’ve slept in plenty of uncomfortable places before when on assignment.” He smiled and placed his duffle bag on the floor. “These are by far the nicest accommodations.”

  Weslee wanted to ask him about the places he’d been during his time in the Navy. She wanted to ask him about his childhood, his family. Basically, she wanted to get to know him. He seemed to fill up this entire room with his presence. What was it about him that drew her to him? It wasn’t just his looks. Maybe it was his desire to protect people. She remembered what he’d said that night on the beach when she’d run into him. I protect women not hurt them.

  She needed to put any romantic notions aside. Protecting people is what Logan Steele did for a living. His role as her boyfriend was merely that: A role to play.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” she said before leaving him to get settled.

  She was grateful they were only staying one night. Having him here made the house feel small. She would be glad when they were back home. Well, not exactly home. Jon had informed her that the house on Emerald Isle was safer than her parent’s mansion. At least with the three-story beach house, Logan could have his own floor to himself. Unless he insisted on staying on the top floor where she and Inez had their rooms.

  Weslee had mixed emotions about going to the beach house. It was the last place her parents had been alive. They’d died on the drive home when their car slid off the road and rolled down an embankment. It had been raining that day, but not anything her daddy hadn’t driven in before. The police didn’t know if her father had swerved to miss an animal, but he’d lost control of the car at the wrong place. If it had happened on any other spot on the road then they would still be alive.

  Inez had just pulled out the pan of buttermilk biscuits. The heavenly scent tempted Weslee to snitch one like she’d done so many times over the years. “It smells divine in here,” she said, sliding onto one of the bar stools. “I’d offer to help, but we both know I’d end up burning something.”

  “That’s the truth,” Inez said with a laugh. “Don’t know how you do it, but you do.”

  Weslee sighed. She’d inherited her mama’s blue eyes and blonde hair, but absolutely none of her cooking skills. “What would I do without you?”

  “Starve,” Inez said, winking at her. She leaned forward and looked toward the hallway. “Despite his taste in clothing, that man is as delicious as my key lime pie.”

  “He’s my bodyguard.”

  “A handsome bodyguard posing as your boyfriend.” Inez straightened up. “Come to think of it, he looks like that man who helped you last week.”

  “Um, I forgot to tell you…he is the man who helped me last week.” Inez got that look in her eyes as a slow smile spread across her face. Weslee held up a hand to put a stop to any notions her former nanny was conjuring in that brain of hers. “It’s a coincidence, Inez. Nothing more.”

  “I don’t believe in coincidences.” Her eyes sparkled with delight. “It’s divine destiny, honey. I’m sure of it.”

  “No—” Weslee started to argue, but Logan walked into the kitchen, cutting off her denial.

  “Good thing I brought a few other shirts,” Logan said. “Because dinner smells delicious.”

  The meal was good, not that Inez had ever cooked anything inedible. However, Logan appreciated it more than anyone. Proving it by eating a large second helping of everything.

  Inez loved it. Jon never had seconds, neither did she. It was obvious her housekeeper liked Logan, but he completely won her over the moment she brought out the key lime pie. “Ma’am, don’t tell my mother this but your cooking is the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  Inez beamed. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest man.” She gave Weslee a pointed look—something she’d done throughout the meal—as if to tell her she’d better lay claim to him before someone else did. Weslee wished Inez would stop.

  The former SEAL earned more points with her nanny when he insisted on cleaning up the table. Inez cast her another meaningful look. Before Inez said anything embarrassing, Weslee scooted back from the table. “Please excuse me, but I need to speak with Jon about a business matter.” He’d taken his meal in his office, trying to catch up on work he’d gotten behind on over the past few days.

  Without waiting for a response, Weslee hurried out of the kitchen to find Jon. She hadn’t exactly lied since there was always something about the business to discuss. Besides, she wanted another chance to convince Jon she didn’t need her bodyguard to pose as her boyfriend, or maybe ask Sutton if there was another security agent available that she didn’t find quite so attractive. Instant attraction, she’d learned, was a fickle thing. She’d felt that way around Dax, though never to this extent. That’s why she needed to steer clear of developing any more feelings for Logan Steele. The best way to do that was to not spend any more time with him.

  The door to Jon’s office was cracked open, and she heard him talking on his phone about a legal matter with one of their vendors. She frowned, knowing he wouldn’t be done with this conversation for at least another hour. The man worked too hard. Even his earlier headache hadn’t stopped him from working. Weslee wished he would slow down and find another wife. He’d been a widower for nearly twenty years now. At fifty-nine he was still handsome with only a touch of gray showing in his dark hair.

  Tiptoeing away from the office, she ventured toward the sliding glass door that led to the back porch. She tugged on a string to open the blinds, giving her a view of the ocean. The wispy clouds along the horizon promised another stunning sunset was on the way. She longed to walk on the beach, and it frustrated her that she simply couldn’t go outside and enjoy the evening.

  She felt trapped. Part of her wanted to sneak outside without telling anyone. Her stalker had never threatened her with violence. She doubted he would actually hurt her. Then she thought about the dead girl from Duke University. Had she thought the same thing about her stalker? Weslee had found the story online and read that the girl was last seen walking home from a party. Her apartment was only a couple of blocks away, but somewhere in-between the party and home, she’d vanished.

  With Logan and Inez still talking in the kitchen, she carefully slid the door open and drew in a lungful of the salty air. A soft breeze ruffled her hair, beckoning her to step outside. She wouldn’t venture far, just stay right here on the deck.

  “You’re not planning to go out, right?” Logan said from behind her.

  Startled, Weslee jumped back and turned to look at him. “Maybe,” she said with a tiny bit of attitude. She wasn’t normally so prickly but Logan flustered her.

  Furrowing his brow, he crossed the floor and slid the door closed. “You shouldn’t open any doors without me there, let alone go outside unprotected.”

  “It’s not fair,” she said, turning to look out the glass. She’d been a prisoner to her grief and now she was literally a prisoner because of someone’s fixation on her.

  “I know.” His voice held compassion as he moved to stand next to her. “But it is necessary.”

  She kept her gaze focused on the
horizon, trying to ignore the clean scent of his soap. “I feel like Jon has blown this all out of proportion. The guy messaging me hasn’t ever threatened me or tried to hurt me.”

  “Not yet,” Logan said, his deep voice serious.

  She drew in a sharp breath and looked up at him. “You think he’ll hurt me?”

  Logan peered down at her. “It’s concerning that he followed you here, which means he’s unpredictable.”

  “What if we set up a meeting with him?” A shiver of apprehension slid over her skin like her subconscious recognized how unwise it would be to make contact. “I mean, if he just wants to meet me then maybe he’ll stop harassing me.”

  “Not a good idea,” Logan said. “Contacting him would only fuel his obsession. I’ve read the previous messages, Weslee. The guy has never once requested a meeting.” His gaze traveled the length of her long hair that hung over one shoulder. “His focus is on the clothes you’re wearing, how they fit your body and your hair. My worry is that he sees you only as an object, not a person. That makes him doubly dangerous.”

  “I hate this,” she said, feeling her lower lip tremble. “My daddy loved taking me for an evening walk along the beach. We’d let the water roll over our feet while we waited for the perfect moment to take a picture of the sunset.”

  “He was a photographer?” Logan asked.

  “An amateur one.” She told him all about her daddy’s attempts to capture the perfect picture. She glanced up at him to find him looking at her. “I only have one more night here. I don’t know when I’ll be back in San Diego, so I’d like the chance to try and get the perfect picture for my daddy.”

  He considered her for a long moment. Then he pulled his cell from his pocket. “Let me make a few calls to see about getting another set of eyes. After eating so much food a walk on the beach sounds good to me too.”

  “Thank you,” Weslee said, surprised by his kindness. She knew her ex-fiancé wouldn’t have cared if she had to stay indoors. Logan nodded his head and then walked to the corner of the room to talk on his phone.