by S. M. Butler
“Copy that,” Dane said. “Captain Ahab coming in for the kill.”
Chase took them so close to the two enemy craft without alerting the tangos that Dane could see the expressions on the men’s faces without needing binoculars.
“We’re a go,” Matt said. “Let’s put this bitch to bed.”
The lights on the assault boat suddenly switched on, flooding the area—and the enemies—with enough candlepower to light up the Superdome. The men scrambled for their weapons, but they were too blind to hit anything. Two men shimmied down the hatch of the sub, but before they could shut it, a wetsuit-clad SEAL was there, shouting orders and taking prisoners.
Dane stormed Bad Medicine with three of the guys. They gathered up the men—Omar Baz and the others who’d been prepared to betray their adopted country—and hustled them over to the assault boat where they were blindfolded and cuffed before being stowed in the hold.
The men who’d been piloting the submarine were captured and trussed as well. Dane and Matt transferred over to the submarine and went down the hatch. The sub wasn’t big, but it was roomier than was typical for a drug-running sub. It had compartments for drugs, and it was lined with over two hundred batteries for power. It also stank like ten-day-old jock straps.
“And there it is,” Matt said. “The source of all the trouble.”
A fat, camouflage-painted missile took up a good portion of the sub, looking like anything but a weapon capable of destroying thousands of lives.
“How’d they get this sonofabitch on board?” Dane said, looking at the missile and then up at the hatch. “That was a feat.”
Before Matt could answer, there was a scraping noise from one of the compartments—and then the door flung upward and an armed man took aim at the nearest target he could find.
The gunshot cracked like a sonic boom in the small space.
*
Ivy slouched in a chair next to Ace’s bed. The hospital hadn’t wanted to let her in at first, but she’d called Leslie Webb, who’d had a nice little chat with the administrator about who was family. So now she was here, holding Ace’s hand and waiting for him to wake up. Tears pricked her eyes as she watched him breathe with the help of a ventilator.
“He was lucky,” the nurse said as she checked his vitals. “The bullet didn’t hit anything major, but he lost a lot of blood. If he hadn’t been in as good shape as he is, he might not have made it.”
Ivy gave the woman a watery smile. “Ace loves to work out. Never saw a man more obsessed with keeping fit.”
“Well, honey, it shows. He’s kinda gorgeous, you know?”
“He is.”
The nurse left her then, and Ivy laid her cheek against Ace’s hand. “You need to wake up, buddy. We’ve got work to do.”
But Ace didn’t stir, and Ivy swallowed a load of frustration and fear. She still hadn’t heard from Dane, and it had been hours since she’d been hustled off the HOT assault boat and onto a Coast Guard vessel.
Miguel Ruiz was in custody, charged with kidnapping a federal officer and attempted murder of another. No matter how many high-powered lawyers he brought in, he wasn’t getting out of the US. Ivy wanted to be in on his interrogation, but that wasn’t going to happen. She’d told Leslie about the family connection, though she would have preferred to go to her grave with that information.
But she had to share it before Miguel did even though it effectively meant she was off the case. No more Ruiz takedowns for her. Though she’d gotten the big boss and he wasn’t going anywhere, so maybe she’d gotten a little justice for her mother after all. She’d wanted to kill him, but maybe this was better. This way he could detail his networks and give the DEA the information they needed to put an end to the Ruiz branch of the drug trade.
She had no doubt he would bargain. He would have to if he didn’t want to end up in a maximum-security facility. No, he’d want the country-club experience—and they’d give it to him if he helped them take down his family.
Her phone—a new one that had been waiting for her when she reached Miami—buzzed in her pocket. She snatched it up and answered with a clipped “McGill.”
She could hear the wind. And then a voice spoke.
“We got them. Wanted you to know.”
A boat motor churned in the background, and Ivy’s insides turned to mush. “Dane? You’re okay?”
“Calling you, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” She noticed that he sounded strained, but she supposed that was because he’d just come off a high-pressure mission. She knew what it was like to stay keyed up afterward. “How did you know about this number?”
“Mendez.”
Thank you, Colonel Mendez. “When will I see you?”
“We’re on the way home. Have to debrief. See you in a few days.”
“Days?” That wasn’t what she’d expected, and it made her chest hurt. What would happen to their conversation in a few days? He’d seemed to care earlier, and yet… what if he didn’t care the way she wanted him to? What if she was completely wrong about everything?
“It’s the job, baby. You know that.”
“Yes, I know.” It was one of the things that had torn them apart in the first place—but what if it was more than that this time? What if he was looking for a way out, no matter that he’d called her his girl earlier? Could that have simply been a knee-jerk response?
Her heart throbbed with pain and questions and uncertainty, yet there would be no answers tonight.
“How’s Ace?”
She glanced at her partner. “Still in a coma.”
“I’m sorry, honey. But he’s tough. He’ll pull through. The doctors said so.”
“I know.”
There were voices in the background. “Gotta go, Ivy. Talk to you in DC.”
She gripped the phone tight. This wasn’t how she wanted it to end. But what could she say? I love you?
No, not going there. Not like this.
“Okay. See you later.”
“Yeah, see you.”
The phone went dead, and she cradled it against her cheek, numbness slipping through her in time to the beeping of Ace’s machines.
Everything in her life was changing, and she had no control. Her partner was in a coma. The job she’d loved for years was in jeopardy. She wasn’t even who she’d thought she was all these years—and the ex-husband she’d tried so hard to forget was once more at the center of her thoughts. The center of her world.
Ivy dropped her head to the bar on Ace’s bed and closed her eyes. What more could go wrong?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‡
Dane tugged at his collar and thought for at least the millionth time that this was a bad idea. He probably should have called first.
But it was too late now. He’d donned the Navy whites, complete with his SEAL trident and all his medals over his left pocket. He stared at his mirrored reflection in the elevator. Damn, would he impress her or scare her? He knew he looked good in the whites, but his eye was black and blue, the edges of the bruise yellowing. When that tango had surprised them in the hold of the sub, he’d gone down hard, hitting his face against the steel bench and practically knocking himself out.
Matt hadn’t fared much better. He’d sprained his wrist and scraped the hell out of his hand. The bullet the asshole had fired at them ricocheted off the steel two or three times before hitting the assailant in the throat. It was divine justice, but damn if it hadn’t been a scary few seconds.
They’d hauled the fucker out of the sub, bleeding profusely from his wound, and secured the cargo. The missile was safely tucked away in a military bunker, its guts being disassembled and studied. Florida would never know what had almost happened to it, thank God.
Dane held a bouquet of white and pink tulips in his left hand—because tulips were Ivy’s favorite—and felt the heat of uncertainty crawling up his throat again. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten Colonel Mendez to get him entry into the DEA. Maybe he should have go
ne to her apartment and waited for her like a sensible man.
But he didn’t want to wait, and he didn’t want to do anything by half measures. Because the one thing he’d realized during this mission was that he wanted Ivy back in his life. However she would take him. When he’d thought he’d lost her—Jesus, he couldn’t even think about it. That had been the lowest moment of his life.
The elevator opened, and he found himself on the floor that was supposed to be where Ivy worked. He strode into the foyer and found a receptionist whose mouth dropped open as he approached.
“Oh, uh, can I help you, sir?”
“Ivy McGill,” he said. “I’m here to see her.”
“I, uh… yes, sir.” She picked up the phone and dialed. After a few moments, she frowned at him. “Agent McGill isn’t at her desk, sir.”
Frustration hammered him. “How about Leslie Webb?”
“Of course, sir.” She dialed again. This time someone must have answered because she started to talk. “Yes, ma’am. A Navy man, ma’am. In whites, yes. Holding flowers.”
When she hung up, she stood. “This way, sir.”
She led him through doors that opened into a cube farm. He followed her through the aisles until she reached a group of desks. A woman looked up, interest crossing her features as she stood.
“Who’s this, Megan?” she asked the receptionist.
Dane held out his hand. “Lieutenant Erikson, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”
The woman’s eyes roved over him as she took his hand and shook it. “Agent Taylor. Can we help you, Lieutenant?”
“Only if you know where Agent McGill is.”
“Uh, I think she went down the hall for a few minutes. Probably checking on something.” Her gaze landed on his chest. “You’re a SEAL.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Dane?”
He swung around to find Ivy approaching. Her mouth dropped open, her pretty eyes growing wide and a maybe even a little surprised. And then there was the concern when she took in his bruised face. She put a hand to her mouth and didn’t say a word.
“Hello, Ivy,” he said as warmth flowed through him like a hot shower on a cold day.
“I… Dane, are you all right?”
“Fine… why?”
She shook her head. “That’s a hell of a shiner.”
“Got into a little scrape.”
“A little scrape.” Her throat worked, and then her gaze dropped over him, back up again. “Are you on your way to a military banquet or something?”
He grinned. “Said I wanted to talk to you.”
She crossed her arms and a little current of dread zipped through him. In truth, he had no idea what kind of reception she was going to give him. Maybe his heart was the only one pounding like crazy. Maybe he was the only one who thought he might die if he didn’t get to kiss her again.
“It’s been nearly two weeks since I last heard from you. I thought you’d changed your mind.”
Changed his mind? No way. “It’s been ten days. And I’ve been busy, Ivy. After action reports, moving me and my team to DC from Virginia Beach, getting briefed at the new job.”
It sounded lame, he knew, but the truth was that moving an entire SEAL team to DC took time and effort. They were a part of HOT now, and he didn’t mind that at all. Surprisingly.
His father, even more surprisingly, was proud as a peacock. The general knew about HOT—and he’d nearly busted his buttons over the idea his son was leading the first SEAL team under HOT’s direction. It was definitely a departure from their usual encounters. Dane didn’t imagine that meant they were suddenly going to be chummy-chummy, but maybe it was the beginning of something.
Just like he hoped this was the beginning of something.
“You could have called,” Ivy said.
He could have. He heard the hurt in her voice and thought maybe he should have. But the days had been packed and he’d only returned to the area this morning. “What I need to say has to be said in person.”
“All right.”
Dane held out the flowers. “You love tulips.”
It took her a moment, but she reached for them. “I do. Thank you.”
Dane swore beneath his breath. He couldn’t do this polite back-and-forth bullshit, working his way up to the point while watching her face for signs of anger or sadness or hopelessness. Not when his heart felt like it might burst out of his chest because it hammered so hard for her. “Ivy, for God’s sake, I missed you.”
He thought her eyes grew a little misty. “It’s only been a few days.”
He shook his head. “No. I missed you. For four and a half years. Dumbest thing I ever did was give up on us.”
People stood and stared over their cubicles now. But he didn’t care. He had things to say, and he didn’t care who heard them. The floodgates banged open on their hinges.
“I, uh… I missed you too.”
He blinked. “You did?”
“Yes, I did. Why else would I fall into bed with you after not seeing you for so long?”
“Oh my,” someone said.
“You go, girl,” someone else said.
“Hell yeah,” another voice offered.
“I’d fall into bed with that,” a male voice replied, and Dane looked up to find Ace hobbling down another aisle with a cane. He looked a bit strained, a bit pale. But he was alive, and that was a good thing. He’d saved Ivy’s life, whether he believed it or not. Without Max, Ruiz would have gotten to Ivy another way—and maybe they wouldn’t have found her in time.
“Thanks, dude. I appreciate that,” Dane said, reaching out to shake Ace’s hand. The other man grinned as if he hadn’t expected such a response—but then he shook Dane’s hand with a strong grip, even if it wasn’t quite as strong as it had once been.
“Eh, just trying to help.”
“You are not helping, Ace,” Ivy said. “Now sit down and shut up.”
“Honey, I was making sure you didn’t continue the conversation without me. I got to hear this.”
Ivy helped him into his chair even though he fussed at her not to do it. When he was settled, she patted him on the shoulder and then wheeled him a little closer to Dane.
Dane wanted to laugh. Instead, he watched Ivy and thought how much he loved this damn woman. She cared about people, and she was brave and loyal. She wasn’t perfect, but then neither was he. They had plenty to work out, but this time he was determined to try. Because he needed her. He knew that now. Pride had gotten in the way before. Pride and fear—and he wasn’t letting them win this time.
“I want to try again, Ivy. We can take it slow if you want. I’ll ask you out. We can date, take our time. Maybe we’ll spend the night together in a couple of months or so. See how that goes.”
She was staring at him like he’d spoken Klingon or something. Then she laughed. “I’m sorry… take our time? Since when has that ever worked for us? And if you think I’m waiting two months to go to bed with you again, you are so wrong. What kind of man shows up looking like”—she waved a hand up and down his body—“that and says we’re going to take it slow?”
His heart thudded hard. A hot wave of possession curled inside his gut, urging him to claim her. He held out his hand. He didn’t say a word. She stared at it for a long moment.
“If you don’t leap into that man’s arms, I’m doing it for you,” Ace grumbled.
Ivy laughed—and then she reached out and took Dane’s hand. He didn’t know what she thought he might do, but he wasn’t one for half measures. He tugged her to him and then swept her up and into his arms. She gasped when her feet left the ground. And then she buried her head against his neck and laughed softly.
“What is this, Dane? What has gotten into you?”
“Romance, honey. This is romance.”
She tilted her head and caressed his cheek while her officemates cheered. “This is crazy,” she whispered.
“I know, baby,” he whispered back. “But that’s how
I feel. Crazy for you. I love you, Ivy. I’ve always loved you.”
She sniffled. “I love you too, Dane. I never stopped.”
“Hallelujah,” he said. He stared at her fiercely. “It’s going to work this time, babe. We aren’t giving up. This is too precious not to fight for.”
“I know that,” she said softly. And then she pressed her lips to his, and everything felt right.
Epilogue
‡
Ivy rolled over in bed and found Dane propped on an elbow, watching her.
“What?” she asked, yawning. She was tired but happy. What a night.
“Nothing.” He slid a finger down her arm and smiled. “I like looking at you.”
“More than looking, if last night was any indication.”
He laughed. “Oh yeah, more than looking.”
She slid her arms around his neck and arched into him. “That was a cheap shot, wearing your whites. No woman can say no to a man in Navy whites.”
“That’s what I was counting on.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.
She pressed her body to his, naked skin to naked skin. Oh, that felt so nice. He hadn’t put her down yesterday. He’d told Ace she was taking the rest of the day off, then he’d carried her outside and put her in his car. He’d driven her to the house he’d rented in suburban Maryland, and then he’d carried her up the steps and straight to the bedroom. There, he’d performed the sexiest striptease any woman had ever been treated to before worshipping her body with his hands and mouth and bringing her to orgasm again and again.
To say Ivy was sated was an understatement. But she wasn’t oblivious. She carefully traced her fingers over the bruising on his face.
“How did you get this black eye?”
Dane looked up from where he’d been pressing his lips to her throat. “Some asshole fired at Matt and me in the sub. We hit the deck—and I hit steel.”
Ivy swallowed. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say anything about someone firing at you.”
He squeezed her. “Yeah, well you scared the shit out of me when you attacked Ruiz, so maybe we’re even.”
