Tempest (SAI Book 3)

by Lea Hart

  TEMPEST

  Book Three

  Lea Hart

  Copyright © 2016 by Lea Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Lea Hart

  Visit my website at www.leahartauthor.com

  For My Daughters, My Heartbeat

  For My Mother, My Champion

  CHAPTER ONE

  Thursday

  Ryan entered the hotel bar and glanced around. The Ritz-Carlton in Coconut Grove was the last place he expected to land after retiring from the Teams. The high ceilings and lush décor scratched against his nerves. This sort of hotel was something his mom would’ve enjoyed. God rest her soul. It was the last place he wanted to be.

  Letting out a long breath, he searched for an empty seat. The place was packed, and the only available one was next to a woman who was working on her laptop. Quartering the room, he checked the exits and cataloged the people enjoying their drinks. It was an ingrained habit and one he would probably never get rid of. It didn’t matter if he was in a fancy hotel with a bunch of rich business people. Shit happened everywhere and he liked to be ready.

  Sliding into the banquette that lined the back wall made a stack of papers slide off the seat. He moved the tiny table forward, grabbed them, and noticed the sexiest pair of legs he’d ever seen. Rising slowly, he let his eyes roam over the woman sitting next to him. He couldn’t decide if she was the best thing he’d ever seen or his worst nightmare. She sure smelled amazing. He had no idea what the fragrance was, but it reminded him of something that grew in his grandmother’s garden.

  As he let his eyes linger, he noted the business dress, perfect hair, and frown. Definitely not his type. But…something about her had his heart pounding like a jackhammer. Which was disturbing, considering that even in combat, his heartbeat stayed the same.

  Maybe becoming a civilian had marked the beginning of his downfall. He watched her lean forward and throw her laptop a dirty look. It was kind of entertaining, but not enough to make him change his mind.

  Experience had taught him that he didn’t mix well with uptight, fussy, focused, balls-to-the-wall executive women. They never seemed to have a sense of humor, and their endless ambition left room for nothing else. The woman sitting next to him was probably their poster girl and head cheerleader.

  He dropped the papers on the table next to her computer and watched her eyes fly up. Her rubber band mouth broke into an open smile and threw his heart another shot of adrenaline. “Those fell on the floor,” he said, as he tipped his head toward the papers. When she smiled again, his heart continued to beat mercilessly. He ignored it.

  “Am I taking up every bit of room here?” Moving her papers, she stacked them up. “I’m sorry about that. When I got here, there wasn’t anyone here, so I spread out.” Shaking her head, she laughed. “My manners are embarrassing. Or, as my mama says, my lack of manners.”

  “No problem.” The cadence of a honeyed Texas drawl filled his ears and soothed his fractured nerves. Not that he would ever admit to having nerves of any kind. But shit had changed dramatically since he retired, and any damn thing was possible. “Don’t worry about it. Using a bar as your office can be challenging, given the lack of space. But the availability of alcohol and food more than makes up for it.”

  “You got that right.” Pulling a briefcase off the floor, she started putting her file folders away. “I like to people-watch, so I thought working down here would give me plenty to look at.”

  Ryan found himself fascinated by her small, delicate hands. The idea of having something soft and fine in his life was as foreign to him as being in this fancy bar. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind. A waitress approached and saved him from thinking about it further.

  The woman asked him what he’d like to drink. He said a beer and was given a list of ten, along with a description of each. When had ordering a beer become so complicated? “I’ll have the IPA.”

  The waitress asked the woman next to him, and he silently bet himself that she would order a glass of wine. When she asked for a dirty martini, he glanced over and wondered what else she enjoyed that was dirty. His mind immediately filled with five filthy things he’d enjoy doing with her. But since she wasn’t his type, he quickly dismissed the idea. Then five more ideas popped up.

  Retirement clearly was hitting him in ways he couldn’t predict. Maybe lusting after women who were high-maintenance was just another sign of his impending implosion. Shit.

  “I was wondering if you could watch my bag while I run to the ladies’?”

  The woman stood, and he was treated to a view of a sexy, curvy figure wrapped in a perfectly appropriate business dress. Only there was nothing appropriate about his reaction to her. Made sense…this was God’s way of torturing him. “Sure.”

  Putting out her hand, she introduced herself. “I’m Ivy, by the way. What’s your name?”

  Grasping her hand gently, he felt the same sensation as when he’d held his sniper rifle for the first time. Like he was home. “Ryan Cordell. Nice to meet you.”

  “Thank you, Ryan. I’ll be back in two shakes.”

  Watching her turn on her heels and saunter away was about the best thing he’d seen in ages. Her curvy hips moved under her dress as she took the pins out of her hair and shook it loose. A wild mane of caramel hair tumbled over her shoulders as she moved toward the other end of the bar.

  He wasn’t the only one who appreciated the view. A half-dozen men tracked her as she walked across the room. Which pissed him off. Why, he couldn’t say. The only thing that came to mind was that he should be the only one who got see her take her hair down. The fact that it didn’t make any sense pissed him off more. The best thing he could do was leave as soon as she got back. There was no need to sit around torturing himself with something that he didn’t need or want in his life.

  ***

  He guessed five. That’s how many men he thought would try to talk to Ivy on her way back to the table. So far three had stopped her, and she was polite but firm in her refusal. Those poor bastards thought they actually had a chance. Her happy, open demeanor gave each and every one of them a small hope that she would be interested.

  Hell, for a split second, he was interested. But she was the type of woman who put her career before anything else, and any man who wanted her was going to have to be a fucking god. He sure as hell wasn’t that. He didn’t know what he was anymore.

  Just as she was about to sit down, a fourth man approached. Her smile was less friendly and never hit her eyes. She stood still and listened to the man give it his best shot, and then she politely said no thank you. Nothing else. Just no thank you. The idiot stood there and waited, like she was going to launch into an explanation. When she turned and took a step toward the table and ignored him, he stalked off.

  Ivy collapsed into her seat and sighed. “I need this drink more than I should. My goodness, it’s been a long day.” She lifted the glass, took a healthy sip, and sighed. “Thank you for watching my stuff.”

  “No problem. I enjoyed the show that your trip to the ladies’ room provided.”

  Her head slowly swiveled around as her eyes shot daggers in his direction. “A show?”

  The honeyed Texas drawl was gone, and was replaced with something
that had a sharp bite. Shit, that probably hadn’t come out right. Saying what you thought without a filter probably wasn’t a good idea in civilian life. “I just meant…it was entertaining. The shake, shimmy, and roll had the men’s attention.”

  Her arms crossed as her eyes narrowed further. Nothing good ever happened when a woman did that. Girding himself, he waited for the blast that was about to happen.

  “That’s rude and completely inaccurate. Lord have mercy upon the poor woman who finds herself in your company.” Turning away, she opened her purse and dug out a pen. “What if I said something like that to you?”

  Ryan remained silent as she mumbled to herself and twisted her hair into a bun on top of her head. She shoved a pen into it and then smooshed the whole thing down. Was there anything this woman did that wasn’t sexy? Finally, he said, “Nothing on me shakes or shimmies, so I don’t know why you would.”

  Smirking, she spared him a glance. “Oh, please. What if I said you lumbered through the room, throwing everyone a death glare just to prove that what you have hanging between your legs works? How would you feel then? Your whole I’m-plotting-your-demise thing reeks of desperation. We are in the middle of a five-star hotel in a lovely neighborhood. The biggest threat you’re facing is my shoes.”

  Glancing down, he laughed. “You think those bondage sandals are a threat? That’s funny.”

  “Mock my shoes. Let’s see how well that turns out for you. I’ll enjoy your surprise when I slam one into your foot and watch you crumble.”

  Taking a gulp of beer, he stared at her flashing eyes. The fire there made him wonder what she looked like when she was turned on. A chance to run his mouth along her skin seemed like a really good idea and he relaxed for the first time since coming to Florida. Matching wits and throwing smack were two of his favorite pastimes. The fact that he was doing it with a woman who was sexy as hell was a bonus. She wasn’t the least bit intimidated, and he enjoyed the hell out of that fact. “Honey, I don’t crumble.”

  Throwing her head back, she let out a crack of laughter. “Oh, sugar, you would. Like a cookie.” Draining her drink, she grinned. “Your lack of charm has worn thin.” She waved to the waitress and motioned for the bill. “I thought you might be interesting, but clearly I was wrong.”

  “I was just playing. I thought you enjoyed our verbal foreplay.”

  “If you think that’s enjoyable, then I’d hate to see you in the bedroom. Foreplay. That’s funny.” When the waitress approached, he told her they would have two more along with some cheeseburgers and fries. He figured Ivy was going to throw a fit, but he wasn’t ready for whatever was happening between them to end. “I’ll buy you dinner and we can discuss your idea of foreplay more thoroughly.” When her sexy mouth flattened into a straight line, he realized that perhaps there wasn’t any difference between him and all those other saps in the bar. It had taken five minutes for him to want a chance with a woman who he was pretty sure was a bad idea.

  “I’m guessing you have a lot of success with the ladies, and what you’re currently doing has worked in the past. Though, I’m not sure how it would.” Shrugging, she stared out at the room. “There’s no accounting for taste.”

  The waitress delivered their drinks and she took a sip. “Millie Sue had always refused Bobby’s advances until he brought her a baby piglet. I know what you’re thinking: who in their right mind brings a piglet to seduce a woman? Well, I thought the same thing. But old Bobby was smarter than we all gave him credit for, because that tiny piglet was about the cutest thing you ever saw. Forget the fact it was going to grow into a big old pig that was going to end up as pork chops.” Taking another sip, she shrugged. “But I digress. The point is that Bobby made Millie Sue look at him a whole new way. He ended up winning her heart, and they’ve been relatively happy together. Bobby isn’t a catch, considering he’s got a job at the mortuary. But Millie Sue sees him as the boy who brought her a precious baby piglet. As I said earlier, there’s no accounting for taste.”

  Ryan had no idea how the baby piglet had anything to do with what was currently happening in the bar at the Ritz-Carlton in Florida, but he wasn’t about to ask for a clarification. Ivy hadn’t run off yet, so he just smiled and drank his beer. There was an insult in there somewhere and he was just going to ignore it. The same way he ignored things that didn’t serve the mission at hand. He never let anything get in the way of what he wanted. And Ms. Ivy was suddenly something he wanted. Why, he couldn’t tell you. But he was about to find out. “So, are my chances better or worse than Bobby’s? I don’t have a piglet handy, but I’m sure I can figure something out.”

  “You’re going to need a lot more that a cute baby pig to pull your ass out of the fire it’s currently in. The shake, shimmy, and roll comment has your fate just about sealed.”

  The setting sun cast a warm glow over the room and made Ivy appear like a jewel in a shiny box. A jewel he suddenly wanted very much. The fact that she was probably more work than BUD/S didn’t seem to bother him as much as it had ten minutes ago. When she glanced at him with narrowed eyes, he wondered if she was armed. He knew folks from Texas believed in the Second Amendment and he figured she was a gal who might like to have a gun at her disposal. “Are you packing?”

  “I’m from Texas and traveling alone. What do you think the answer is?”

  “Are you going to warn me before you shoot, or is it going to be a surprise?”

  “The way you’re looking at me makes me think that I’m not going to bother with a warning.”

  “Fair enough.” When she smiled in response, he figured he’d do just about anything to get about five hundred more of those smiles. Yep, it was official. Retirement equaled losing your fucking mind.

  “Let me guess. You’re newly retired from some spec ops job and you’re losing your shit. And I’m the lucky recipient of aforementioned loss of shit.”

  Staring into her honey eyes made him wonder if she had a magic ball sitting next to the gun in her purse. How she’d figured him out so quickly was concerning. Could she also see the dark places in his mind? He hoped like hell she couldn’t, because it wasn’t pretty there. “My shit is firmly in place and to answer your question…yes, I’m recently retired. How did you figure it out?”

  “I’ve become acquainted with your ilk and it’s hard to miss. You all are more alike than you think.”

  “In what way?” Staring into her eyes made him wonder how thin the ice was beneath his feet. She was pissed that he’d invaded her space, and her good manners were all that was standing between him and her throwing him out of his seat.

  A born gambler, he enjoyed the thrill. Adrenaline was hard to come by in civilian life, and he took it where he could. He was reduced to seeing if a woman would share a meal with him. That was his excitement for the week, and the tragedy of that fact wasn’t lost on him. Was he doing this because, as she put it: he was losing his shit? Or was he really interested in getting to know her? The answer, not immediately evident, plastered his butt to the seat. Worse case, she shot him. It wouldn’t be the first time and probably not the last.

  The waitress approached and set down their meals. “Thank you,” Ivy murmured with a smile.

  Ryan took a fry and lifted it to her. “Here’s to meeting to new people and baby piglets.”

  “Anything else I can get you?” the waitress asked.

  “A to-go box,” Ivy said politely.

  “No, honey, were eating here.”

  The waitress looked between the two of them and blinked when Ryan gave her his winning smile. The smile had gotten him out of more trouble than he could remember. “After our burgers, we’ll have a couple of hot fudge sundaes.” The woman walked away. Ryan turned back to Ivy and wondered if she had pulled her gun out. He was walking a thin line, and Ivy didn’t seem like the sort to give much slack. In fact, she appeared to be the type who gave no slack. Ever. Under any circumstance. But that’s what made this fun. He’d faced scary, nasty shit for over ten yea
rs, so how bad could this tiny woman from Texas be? Smiling, he remembered that she wasn’t his type. To hell with it. Maybe it was time to see if a smart, sassy woman was worth the trouble.

  “Ryan, I’m going to tell you a little story. One I hope you pay attention to, because you’re playing it fast and loose. I’m giving you a pass because I figure what you’re doing has little to do with me and more to do with what’s going on in your life. Clearly, your need to eat a meal with me has nothing to do with my charm and wit. I haven’t shown you an ounce of it, so I figure you’re just like Jack Jr. from my hometown. He had everything going for him. A ton of girls were always falling all over him, but he never did anything about it. No, he got himself a crush on sweet Lilly. The reason he got himself so twisted up over her was that she refused his every advance. It was the chase that had ol’ Jack Jr. all hot and bothered. He couldn’t help himself. He wanted the challenge because his high-school glory days were over. All he had in front of him was life on his family’s ranch. As far as anyone could tell, he wasn’t much interested. But the challenge of Lilly kept him distracted, so he went after her with everything he had. At some point, she gave in and agreed to have dinner with him. Things went as expected, and Jack Jr. got what he wanted. Or what he thought he wanted. Lilly finally gave in because he’d done everything to win her heart. The problem was that he had no idea what to do once he got it. All he worried about was the chase.”

  Pausing, she studied Ryan. He had a pretty good feeling there wasn’t a happy ending to this story. “So, what happened to Jack Jr. and Lilly?”

  “Lilly was a smart girl. Always had been, always would be. She untangled herself from Jack, moved to Houston, and found a new life. A life with someone who actually was interested in her heart and not the challenge. She’s been married for a couple of years and has a wonderful life. Jack Jr. is still on the farm, chasing everything that runs away from him. He was never that bright, and that hasn’t ever changed.”