Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security

by Carol Ericson

  Once he’d satisfied himself the house didn’t contain any bogeymen, Riley collapsed on the couch. “You’re sure they were here?”

  Amy nodded. “Things are out of place, although I don’t have a clue why they’re being so careful now after ransacking my suitcase at Sarah’s house.”

  “They don’t know that you’re onto them. They could’ve searched this house yesterday.” He checked the safety on his gun and placed it on the coffee table. “They obviously didn’t find what they were looking for since they were at your friends’ house today.”

  “I almost wish they’d just find their money and leave me alone.” She folded her hands in her lap and slid a glance his way. “I know you think that’s selfish, that I should be actively trying to keep the money out of their filthy hands.”

  He covered her clasped hands with one of his own. “I don’t think that’s selfish, Amy. I don’t expect you to want to bring down a terrorist cell. That’s completely out of your job description.”

  She turned her head, searching his face with an anxious look. “It’s not because I’m on their side or I want to punish law enforcement, despite my crazy background and infamous family members.”

  “I know that, too.” His gaze wandered around the room. “Of course, if we do find the money first and turn it over to the CIA, it will have the same effect. They’ll leave you alone.”

  “I don’t have any idea what Carlos could’ve hidden in my place or where.”

  Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes. “Let’s think. He obviously didn’t hide the money itself—too big, too noticeable.”

  “Did my brother indicate when the Velasquez people gave him the money to give to the clients?”

  “In advance.”

  “So he had time to stash the money before the drop, and he didn’t hide it at my house. So where would you put that kind of cash for safekeeping? A bank?”

  Riley opened one eye. “Never. It would leave a paper trail a mile long and Carlos wouldn’t have wanted that. If he deposited it in an account, it would have to be some kind of offshore, untraceable one.”

  Amy sighed and hunched forward. “I just don’t know. Why would Carlos leave anything with me? Did he hate me that much?”

  Riley’s fingers tingled to feel Amy’s dark mahogany hair slip through his fingers as it slid across her back. He doubted Carlos hated Amy—probably felt damned lucky the Velazquez Cartel had chosen her as his dupe. Hiding his mode of access to the drug money with Amy had more to do with covering his own hide than endangering Amy. But that’s exactly what Carlos had done.

  Riley pushed up from the couch and extended his hand. “Let’s get out of here. If the people who searched this house didn’t find what they wanted, we won’t either. Maybe they’re wrong anyway.”

  She put her hand in his, and he pulled her up and toward him, so close he could see the gold flecks in her puzzled eyes.

  He tried to reassure her. “Maybe Carlos headed back here after the drop because it was familiar territory. Maybe he never did leave anything in your possession.”

  Pressing her lips together, she shook her head. “That’s even worse. As long as the terrorists think I have the money, it doesn’t much matter whether I do or not. They’re going to try to get it back.”

  Riley wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest where he felt her heart galloping at a rapid pace. Then he said the dumbest thing he’d said in five years. “They’ll have to come through me first.”

  * * *

  BACK AT RILEY’S SAFE HOUSE Amy felt...safe, but it had nothing to do with the boxy, nondescript apartment and everything to do with the man at her side.

  As Riley hauled her suitcase into the bedroom once again, Amy twisted the gold locket at her neck with nervous fingers.

  “Do you always wear that necklace?” He walked into the kitchen and yanked on the fridge door.

  She held the chain out with one finger and the large heart-shaped locket dangled from it. “It was the only thing I had left from my mother. That’s why I wear it, even though it’s too big and not stylish at all.”

  “Water?” He held up an empty glass. Amy nodded. “How’d your mother end up with a man like Eli Prescott?”

  “The usual way, I guess. She fell in love with him.”

  “But he already had his harem going by the time she came to live with him, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.” She dropped the locket where it thunked against her chest. “My father was a very persuasive man. We weren’t the only family living at the compound. He’d convinced others to join us. He could convince anyone of just about anything.”

  “Too bad he used those talents in the wrong way.” Riley handed her a glass of water.

  She traced the rim of the glass with her fingertip. “The FBI charged onto that property and killed my mother.”

  Riley placed his hand on her lower back and guided her to the sofa. “I’m sorry, Amy.”

  “It should’ve been him.” She gulped the water and slammed the glass on the coffee table. “They wanted him.”

  “And now your family has dragged you back into the muck with them.” He massaged between her shoulder blades, and she leaned her elbows on her knees.

  “I tried to make peace with my feelings for my father, but in the end decided to put it all behind me. I guess you can only run so fast before the bad stuff catches up to you.”

  “You don’t deserve this. Any of it.”

  The pressure of his hands grew harder, and she leaned into his strength, closing her eyes. She usually deflected others’ sympathy and pity, but now she allowed herself to wallow in it. She’d been wallowing a lot these past few days—even crying. She hadn’t permitted herself many tears over the years—too dangerous to show weakness.

  He squeezed the back of her neck with one hand. “Did you get something to eat tonight?”

  “Yeah, did you?” She rolled her head back, not wanting Riley’s magic hands to stop.

  “No. Your brother was having a swanky dinner party, but I had other plans.”

  She twisted around, cupping her chin in her palm. “Thanks again for coming to the rescue. You have a knack for that sort of thing, don’t you?”

  “As a Navy SEAL it’s second nature, but...” He stopped and shrugged.

  “I know. You’re a dive-boat operator from Cabo now.”

  “And what about you, Amy?” He stroked her hair and she almost purred like her abandoned cat, Clarence. “What do you do when you’re not rescuing people from the ocean?”

  “Well, before you killed a guy on my beach, I was planning to start EMT school in a few weeks and try to get on with a fire department in the next year or two.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “Talk about being born to rescue. Why do you gravitate toward those professions?”

  “I never thought of it as a gravitational pull.” She avoided his piercing blue gaze. “I can pretty much do what I like anyway. I’m independently wealthy.”

  He started to snort and then ended on a choke. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “The FBI killed my mother. I got a fat settlement for that, which didn’t start paying out until I was eighteen. My friend’s husband, Cliff, is my attorney, and he’s managed my money very well.”

  Riley whistled. “Maybe Carlos was after your money, too.”

  “I doubt it. He didn’t know anything about my money.”

  “Played it kind of close to the vest with Carlos, didn’t you?”

  “We dated only a few months. I’m not going to spill my guts after two months of dinners and movies.”

  “You told me after two days of car chases and break-ins.”

  “That’s different.”

  He cocked his head. “How so?”

  Amy twirled a lock of hair around her finger. If she had to explain the connection she felt with him, the electricity that zapped her senses every time he touched her, then maybe her attraction was all one-sided. Maybe she’d better quit while she
was ahead and not make a fool out of herself.

  “Uh, you know. The excitement and adrenaline rush gives everything an urgency.”

  “Like this?” He pulled her into the crook of his arm, tilted her head back and kissed her mouth.

  Guess he feels it, too.

  Her mouth tingled as his gentle caress grew more demanding. A pulse throbbed in her bottom lip and she reached up and twined her fingers around his hair.

  He shifted, pulling her across his lap and linking his hands behind her back. “I’ve wanted you in my arms like this for a long time.”

  She murmured against his mouth, “You’ve known me for less than three days.”

  “Must be that urgency thing you were talking about.” He pinched her chin and ran his thumb across her mouth.

  “Speaking of urgency—” she sat up “—I thought we were coming back to your safe house to figure out why these guys think I have the money from the drug deal gone bad.”

  “First things first. I brought you back to my safe house to keep you safe.”

  The way her brain fogged over every time Riley kissed her felt anything but safe, but it did feel...right.

  “I’m glad we’re putting off thinking about our problems, because I can’t think straight when you’re kissing me like...that.” She sighed as his lips trailed across her throat.

  “How about if I kiss you like this.”

  He planted a line of kisses along her jaw and ended with a kiss at the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t figure out how such a hard man could have such soft lips. Then she was done figuring when he slipped his tongue between her lips and tickled the roof of her mouth.

  A gasp escaped from her throat, half laugh, half moan. She dug her nails into his shoulders, searching for something steady to hold on to as he deepened his kiss and slid his hands beneath her T-shirt. His palms, calloused and rough, brushed her skin and she squirmed beneath his touch.

  “Is this doing anything to help you think straight?”

  She nipped his ear. “You know it’s not. I don’t get how you can engage in...a flirtation...when terrorists are hunting you down.”

  Technically, they were hunting her down, but Riley had taken her cause on as his own. And that was even sexier than his hands rubbing those little circles on her back. Almost.

  His brows shot up to the shaggy hair falling across his forehead. “You call this a flirtation? I must be slipping.”

  He curled his hands around her waist, pulling her against his chest. Then he dipped his head and possessed her lips as if he didn’t have one thought in his brain except pleasure. Her pleasure.

  Without losing their connection, Amy fumbled with the buttons of Riley’s shirt until it hung open on his chest. Then she yanked at the white T-shirt tucked into his slacks, scraping his flat belly with her fingernails. “You are way overdressed.”

  His gaze swept over her skirt and top, lingering on her bare legs hanging over his lap. “So are you.”

  He staggered from the couch, clutching her to his chest. “Are we going to fumble around on the couch like a couple of teenagers?”

  Shaking her head, she entwined her arms around his neck. “Take me anywhere, sailor.”

  In a few quick strides he shoved open his bedroom door with his shoulder and kissed her again before dropping her on the bed. Without losing eye contact, they both scrambled out of their clothes. Only then did Amy allow herself to savor Riley’s naked body.

  He had the perfect swimmer’s form with his wide shoulders, broad chest, narrow hips and flaring thighs. Amy’s lashes fluttered as desire coursed through her veins. Riley was no accountant or banker or plumber—probably didn’t have one stable, boring bone in his body. But God she wanted him.

  “Done with the inventory?” He grinned, his blue eyes shooting sparks.

  She shrugged and faked a yawn. “Nothing I haven’t seen a million times before.”

  Riley scrambled onto the bed and hitched her around the waist with one arm, dragging her against his hard planes. “How about I rock your world with something you haven’t felt a million times before?”

  Before she could answer in the affirmative, he landed a hard kiss on her mouth—punishment for her sarcastic tongue. Then he laid her out on the bed and used his tongue, which wasn’t sarcastic at all, to bring her to dizzying heights of ecstasy.

  Digging her nails into his muscled buttocks, she panted against his shoulder. “You made your point, sailor. Now finish the job.”

  “Don’t forget.” He cupped her breast in his hand and massaged her nipple with his thumb. “I live in Mexico now. We take things slow and easy down there.”

  She squirmed from beneath the weight of his body and rolled on top of him. “I’ll give you slow and easy.”

  She kissed his eyelids and the bridge of his prominent nose. Although the heat of her passion thumped with urgency, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against the stubble along his jaw and twirled her tongue in the hollow of his throat.

  He hissed and grabbed her hips, grinding his erection into her belly.

  She nipped his earlobe. “Slow and easy, remember?”

  He growled. “We’re in Los Estados Unidos now, baby.”

  He flipped her onto her back and drove into her with such force she bumped her head on the headboard—and she didn’t mind one bit. She thrust back against him, enjoying the ride, enjoying the thrill of having this dangerous, exciting man in her bed and in her life. She’d deal with the consequences later.

  Like they’d known each other all their lives, they reached their climaxes together in perfect sync, noisily, heartily and completely. A matched pair.

  Riley rolled to her side, but pulled her close to maintain their connection. He brushed a strand of hair from her lips, which parted with each short gasp of breath she took. “Too much for you?”

  Narrowing her eyes, she slapped his backside with her palm. “I’m ready for another round.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re fearless in every situation, Amy, not like—”

  Riley’s cell phone rang from the pocket of his slacks, crumpled on the bedroom floor. He blew her a noisy kiss. “Keep the bed warm.”

  He launched off the bed and clawed through his pants to find the phone. “Hello?” His head shot up as three sharp knocks cracked on the front door.

  A tingle of fear raced across Amy’s flesh, chasing away desire. “Who is it?”

  Riley tossed aside the phone and pulled on his slacks. “One of my brothers in arms.”

  Amy had dragged the sheet up to her chin and her long, dark hair tumbled around her face with its wide, glossy brown eyes and trembling lips, plump from his kisses. His need for this woman, still unabated, coiled hot and firm in his belly.

  But duty called.

  Ian Dempsey stood outside his front door, and he might have news of Jack.

  Riley pulled his T-shirt over his head and pointed to the phone. “That was my buddy on the phone letting me know he’s outside. Unfortunately, I have to let him in.”

  The strain on Amy’s face smoothed out and she sighed. “Oh, of course. I’ll get dressed.”

  “That’s a good idea because that dude out there is a wolf.” He winked and snapped the bedroom door behind him.

  Riley shoved his eye against the peephole and scanned the tall man parked at his doorway. At least he’d called first instead of showing up unannounced—just might have saved himself from a bullet between the eyes.

  Riley yanked open the door. “You do know this is a safe house, don’t you? You sure you weren’t followed?”

  Ian laughed and pushed his way into the apartment. “Good to see you, too, Riley. Besides, we always had you pegged as the careless one.”

  Riley slammed the door and locked it. Then he thrust out his hand. “How the hell are you, man?”

  Ian shrugged. “I’ve been better. They’re calling Jack a traitor.”

  “I know.” Riley balled his fists. “It’s a lie.”

&
nbsp; “You don’t have to convince me.” Ian held up his hands. “This is a big-time operation. You don’t think our old friends have anything to do with it, do you?”

  “Why would they be out here now? They used to be strictly local.” A bitter bile rose from Riley’s gut when he thought about the team of terrorists operating in the Middle East that Prospero had repeatedly come up against. Prospero had almost taken down their leader, Farouk, on their last mission together.

  “Those drugs came from Farouk’s territory.” Ian shrugged. “Whoever they are, they sold a lot of heroin to the Velasquez Cartel for a lot of money, and I don’t think they plan to use the money to open flower shops.”

  “They’ve been linked to an arms dealer here in the States. We just need a name.” Ian paced the room, absently picked up Riley’s jacket, then dropped it.

  “How is that going to get us closer to Jack?”

  Ian spread his hands. “It’s the whole setup. The entire deal is linked to some doctor who was kidnapped in Afghanistan. Jack was hired to negotiate for his release, and he disappeared.”

  “You know more than I do then. Do we have a name on the doc?”

  “No name. It’s hush-hush. We know his sister hired Jack, but we can’t track her down.”

  “Did the colonel tell you I ran into a hitch here?” Riley ran his hands through his tangled hair; they had recently wound around Amy’s fingers as he coaxed her to her climax. He swallowed.

  “You tried to disrupt the deal, and now either the Velasquez Cartel or the client is after you.”

  “Actually, they’re after me.”

  Amy strode into the room, looking a helluva lot more put together than he did in his dress slacks, un-tucked T-shirt and bare feet.

  Ian’s brows shot up and his gaze darted between Amy and Riley. “And you are...?”

  Riley stepped between them as if to shield Amy from Ian’s scrutiny. “This is Amy Prescott, the lifeguard from the beach. Amy, this is Ian Dempsey, another former member of Prospero. He was in the Army Mountain Division and leads climbing expeditions now.”