The Navy SEAL’s Holiday Fling: Ballybeg Bad Boys, Book 3

by Zara Keane

  “Brown sludge or no, give it a shot. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.” He slipped his hand over hers, relishing the sensation of his skin absorbing her warmth. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone. I wish I could stay with you today.”

  She leaned across and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I won’t be alone, Liam. I’ll be in a shop surrounded by assistants and customers. Plus we’ll have guards right outside the door.”

  “I know, but—”

  “It’s okay.” She squeezed his hand and gave him a bright smile. “You need to go and help Inspector Tobin and his team.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know how much use I am to them, actually. With my busted ribs, I’m no good in the field. All I’ve done so far was provide a description of The Ghost.”

  “That’s a lot. I’m sure they’re grateful. And for all we know, The Ghost has already left the country. It’s easy to do here on the coast, especially if he can sail. Steal a boat and away he goes.”

  The same idea had occurred to Liam, but it brought him little comfort. The Ghost had enjoyed a five-year run of successful attacks, always evading capture at the last second. As far as Liam was aware, the bomb at the Sheldon represented The Ghost’s first failure. A terrorist as arrogant as him wouldn’t take kindly to having his carefully laid plans screwed up. And courtesy of that stupid ass journalist, The Ghost would know Liam was responsible for foiling his diabolical plan.

  Jill inhaled and exhaled. “I can do this,” she murmured.

  “Are you—” he began but she cut him off.

  “I can do this.” She looked him straight in the eye, nodded, and opened the car door.

  Shaking his head, Liam followed suit. He understood why Jill was determined to return to work today. She wanted to show The Ghost she wasn’t afraid, that she wasn’t prepared to let a terrorist intimidate her. In her shoes, Liam would have done the same. But this was Jill. His Jill. His protective instincts screamed for him to keep her safe. And that meant far away from Blush Shoppe.

  On the walk toward the parking garage elevator, he took her hand. It felt small inside his big one. “If you’re worried during the day, call me. Seriously.”

  “I…might have deleted your number,” she said with a rueful smile.

  He laughed and ruffled her hair. “I know you did. I’ve keyed it back into your phone and put it on speed dial. If you need to get hold of me, press nine.”

  “Will do. And Liam…” She trailed off, a conflicted expression flickering across her face. “I don’t know what’s going on between us but I’m going to miss you.”

  They stepped into the elevator. Liam hit the button for street level and the doors slid shut.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, either, only that I don’t want this to be the end.”

  The elevator pinged and Liam escorted Jill out onto the street and toward the Blush Shoppe store. Two burly policemen flanked the entrance to the store, looking incongruous under the mistletoe that hung over the door. The sight of their bulletproof vests and machine guns should have given Liam a sense of security, but only served to increase his growing sense of dread.

  He slowed his pace, elongating their remaining steps to the store.

  “Today’s Christmas Eve,” Jill said. “It’s your last chance to fly home in time to collect Meggie.”

  His grip on her hand tightened. “I know. Cash booked me a seat on an evening flight out of Shannon. Whatever happens, I’ll try to see you before I go. If that’s not possible, I’ll call you.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Liam.” She gave him a wobbly smile that tore at his heart. “You can phone me when you’re back in the U.S.”

  He drew her to a halt a few feet from the store and caressed the smudges under her eyes. “I meant what I said last night. We’re not over. I don’t know how we’ll make it work, but I’m willing to give it my best shot.”

  She lowered her long eyelashes. “It’s hard to maintain a long-distance relationship. And with your job…”

  “The instant I’m wheels down, I’m handing in my resignation at Trident Securities and looking for a job in New York.”

  Jill’s head jerked up and she blinked. “Are you crazy? You’ve had years of excitement and travel. Do you really want a regular nine-to-five position?”

  “I’ll figure something out. Yesterday was an eye-opener for me. I can’t keep working a job that has me gone most of the year and never knowing when I’ll see my daughter. It’s not fair to Meggie, and, ultimately, it’s not fair to me. If I’m not careful, I’ll turn around one day and realize my little girl has grown into woman and I’ve missed most of her childhood. I want to be there for her, every step of the way.”

  Jill stood on her tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re a good father.”

  “I try,” he said, picturing his little girl’s adorable face, “but I can do better. My ex is right on that score.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful Christmas with Meggie.”

  Liam pulled Jill into his arms and kissed her thoroughly, memorizing her familiar scent and the feel of her lips on his. “Have a good day at work. And stay safe.”

  She slipped out of his grasp, turned, and smiled at him over her shoulder. The morning sunlight shone on her face, illuminating her high cheekbones and generous lips. “Bye, Liam. Don’t be a stranger.”

  And then she walked through the doors of the store and disappeared from his sight.

  With a heavy heart, he retraced his steps toward the place where he’d left his rental car. In his pocket, his phone began to vibrate. He glanced at the display and his face lit up with a smile. “Meggie, baby. How are you?”

  “Are you okay, Daddy?” she asked in a small, breathless voice. “Mommy said you were on the news but she wouldn’t let me or Barnabus watch it.”

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He glanced at his watch and frowned. “Why aren’t you asleep? It’s the middle of the night for you.”

  “I can’t sleep. Are you still in Ireland? Mommy said you missed your flight.”

  Guilt gnawed at his stomach. “Yeah, but I’ve booked a seat for this evening. I’m going to do my best to make it home on time.”

  His daughter fell silent. Liam could practically hear the wheels in her little head turning. “But you’re not sure you’ll make it?”

  Liam squeezed his eyes shut and let out a string of silent expletives directed against The Ghost. “Baby, something bad happened. I need to help the police put it right. I’ll do everything I can to be home in time for our vacation.”

  More silence.

  Liam’s heart performed a slow thump and roll. “Meggie? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, Daddy. It’s okay if you’re late. I know you want to help people. That’s what makes you a good Daddy.”

  Liam’s throat constricted. Whatever the next twenty-four hours brought, he was getting home to his daughter. “Thanks, Meggie. You know I want to be with you.”

  “And Barnabus?”

  “You and Barnabus.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I’ll see you on Christmas Day, baby, even if I have to swim to get there.”

  This made her giggle. “Bye, Daddy. I’m sending you a big kiss and slobbery lick from Barnabus.”

  He laughed. “I’m looking forward to receiving both in person.”

  When he disconnected, Liam took a shuddery breath. No one was indispensible, right? Tobin and his team were going to have to find someone else to assist them. Whatever happened over the next few hours, Liam couldn’t let a fucking terrorist destroy his holiday plans with his daughter.

  Despite her brave words to Liam, Jill was shaking inside. Having her hopes and dreams for her new career blown up had affected her more than she cared to admit. What if Liam hadn’t warned them and evacuated the hotel? She, Olivia, and everyone else in the conference room would have died. Just like all those poor people across the world who’d lost their lives yesterday. Returning
to work was an act of defiance that her rational side embraced but that her emotional side recoiled against.

  “Morning, Ms. Bekele.” One of the heavily armed policemen held the door open for her. “Any problems, we’re right outside.”

  She plastered a determined smile onto her face. “Thanks. I appreciated it.”

  The instant Jill stepped into the Blush Shoppe store, her breath caught. “Oh, my.”

  Many of the women who’d attended the launch party the previous evening were lined up inside the store, laden with goods. Jill glanced at her watch but she was right on time.

  “They were waiting outside when I arrived,” said Marie, her assistant. “I didn’t want to leave them in the cold.”

  “You did right.” Tears welled up in Jill’s eyes when she turned to her customers. “Thank you so much for coming. I was expecting the shop to be empty today.”

  “Oh, no,” said one woman with curly black hair. “We’re not letting a terrorist win.”

  The others nodded and expressed similar sentiments.

  Jill beamed at the crowd. “We’ll do our best to make your trip to Blush Shoppe well worth it.”

  The customers cheered and clapped and were soon being escorted to the various displays of vibrators, sexy lingerie, and other intimate goods stocked by Blush Shoppe.

  Jill, Marie, and the other assistants were rushed off their feet. All day long, the store was packed with customers, some who wanted to be measured for a custom Luxe product, others who wished to have their purchases gift wrapped in Blush Shoppe’s signature red and gold colors—perfect for the festive season. The mood was upbeat and defiant and a definite up yours to The Ghost.

  The hours flew by. When closing time finally rolled round, Jill was exhausted. Her back ached, and her nerves were frayed from constantly being on the alert. She was putting on a brave face for her staff and the customers, but the stress and lack of sleep was taking its toll. And no, the sludge-like coffee had done little to jolt her into a more wakeful state.

  At six o’clock, she let her assistants leave for their Christmas festivities while she stayed and tallied the accounts. She glanced up from the cash register from time to time, but the policemen were still at the entrance, bouncing on their heels to ward off the cold, clearly impatient to go home for their dinner.

  Her mobile phone buzzed. Her heart leaped when she saw that it was Liam’s number. “Any news?”

  “They’re still searching but they think he’s already fled the country. I spent the day looking through footage from surveillance cameras around Cork City to see if I recognized him.”

  “Any luck?”

  “No. The cameras opposite the Sheldon are broken.” He paused, and she felt his hesitation down the line. “Listen, I have to leave for the airport in a few minutes. I don’t think I’ll be able to see you before I fly. I’m cutting it fine as it is.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach. “Have a safe flight.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? And Jill?” She heard his hesitation down the line, as if he was weighing his words. “I really care about you.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “And I care about you, Liam. Now go get on a plane and make your daughter happy this Christmas.”

  He laughed and blew her a kiss down the phone. “I will. I l—like you.”

  “I l—like you too,” she teased, laughing.

  “Check flights for January. I’d like to invite you over to New York for a week or two.”

  Her stomach fluttered. “I’ve only just started working for Blush Shoppe. I’m not sure—”

  “I’ll talk to your boss. I figure she owes me a favor.”

  This made Jill smile. “Yeah, she does. Thanks, Liam. If we can swing it, I’d love to visit you.”

  “We’ll swing it. Take good care of yourself, Jill, and don’t take any risks.”

  “I won’t,” she whispered, struggling not to cry. “Have a good flight.”

  After she hung up, an unfamiliar sense of loneliness weighed on Jill’s shoulders. For the first time since she’d cheerfully turned down all offers to spend Christmas Day with various friends and relatives, she regretted not taking one of them up on their invitation. The day of rest and a good book that she’d been so looking forward to no longer held any appeal, and the idea of the ready meal of turkey slices, stuffing, and green beans turned her stomach.

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat and gave herself a mental shake. At least she was alive. Unlike the people who’d been killed yesterday, she had the luxury of spending a lazy day in front of the TV, even if it would be a day spent alone.

  After she’d finished the accounts, she pushed back her chair, yawned, and stretched. She was bone tired and looking forward to a shower and sleep, and not necessarily in that order. Jill locked everything up in the small safe at the back of the shop and fetched her coat. She was just wrapping her scarf around her neck when an apparition appeared in the stockroom door.

  Her heart leaped in her chest.

  A large man loomed in the dim light, holding a baton in one hand. It was too dark to see his features clearly, but a cold sense of dread snaked down Jill’s spine. Pulse pounding, she emitted a strangled scream and leaped back, stumbling over a display table of vibrators and landing hard on her left ankle. Pain shot up her leg. When she tried to stand, her left foot refused to bear her weight.

  “Shit, no.”

  The man moved closer, wielding the baton.

  Adrenaline kicked in. Gritting her teeth, Jill hopped over to the main cash register and grabbed a decorative paperweight containing Blush Shoppe business cards. She hurled it at the intruder and heard a grunt as it hit him on the middle of his forehead.

  But he kept coming for her.

  Leaning down, Jill grabbed several vibrators that had fallen on the floor when she fell over the display. She drew her arm back and threw the vibrators at him one by one like missiles, occasionally aiming one at the window where the two eejits of policemen stood outside, apparently oblivious to Jill’s predicament.

  The intruder moaned, rolled over, and tried to stand.

  Sweating and with a racing heart, Jill limped to a shelf packed with products. “Come on,” she said through gritted teeth. “Cooperate.”

  She pulled at the display with all her might until it started to topple over. Throwing herself out of harm’s way, she watched as the shelf fell and landed on the intruder’s legs.

  The man roared with pain. “You crazy bitch. What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m defending myself. That’ll teach you to screw with a sex toy seller.”

  At long last, the two policemen noticed the commotion and burst into the shop.

  “Where the fuck were you?” Jill shouted and burst into tears. “I threw vibrators at the window and you didn’t even react.”

  The man on the ground managed to free himself from the fallen shelves. He hauled himself to his feet, swearing and calling Jill every bad name under the sun.

  Jill stepped back, landed on her bad foot, and grabbed the counter to break her fall.

  One of the policemen grabbed the intruder in a rugby tackle. A punching match ensued, but the man with the baton proved no match for his opponent. He flailed, spluttering protests, and landing the occasional feeble punch on the policeman’s back.

  When the second policeman hit him with a stun gun, the man jerked several times, and then fell limp.

  Jill slumped to the ground, tears streaming down her face. “Is he unconscious?”

  “Oh, yeah.” A broad grin spread across the second policeman’s face as he slapped handcuffs around the intruder. “Well done, Ms. Bekele. You helped capture The Ghost.”

  9

  Three hours after The Ghost’s capture, two plain-clothes police personnel drove Jill home to Ballybeg.

  “Sure you’re okay, Ms. Bekele?” Sergeant Walsh asked.

  Jill gave a weak nod, still st
ruggling to regain her composure after the incident in the shop. “I’m fine, thank you. There’s really no need for you to stay overnight.”

  The policewoman smiled. “Inspector Tobin insists. We won’t invade your privacy, but we’ll be right outside the door if you need us.”

  “All I need at the moment is a hot shower and sleep.”

  The policeman driving—Garda Toomey, if Jill remembered correctly—eased the vehicle to a halt outside her cottage. “Bit isolated out here,” he said, eyeing the fields surrounding Jill’s home.

  She shrugged. “Not really. My nearest neighbor is only a few minutes’ walk down the road. I prefer living on the outskirts of Ballybeg rather than in the town center.”

  Garda Toomey killed the engine. “If you give me your house key, I’ll check that no one is lurking inside.”

  Jill slipped her key out of her pocket and handed it to him.

  After the young policeman had gotten out of the car and ambled up the path to the house, Jill turned to Sergeant Walsh. “I hope you two don’t freeze out here tonight. You’re welcome to come inside if you get cold.”

  “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be grand with the car heater on.” The policewoman smiled. “I bet your boss is glad to have the case wrapped up before Christmas—no pun intended.”

  Despite the bad joke, Jill laughed. “I imagine both our bosses will be celebrating tonight. This hasn’t been positive publicity for the Blush Shoppe brand.”

  “I heard the shop was packed today,” the woman added. “I’m betting Blush Shoppe will do just fine.”

  Privately, Jill agreed with her. The cynical part of her thought the Irish launch couldn’t have gone better—aided and assisted by The Ghost. The unforeseen delays with the shop’s renovations had delayed the launch, cutting into their pre-holiday profits. Courtesy of the publicity generated by the attacks, Blush turnover was through the roof. Definitely not what The Ghost had intended.

  After a few minutes, Garda Toomey returned to the car and handed Jill her key. “No one’s there, and everything looks fine. I’ve locked and bolted the back door. Make sure you do the same with the front.”