Stone Hard SEALs

by Sabrina York

  His body was long and heavily muscled. At least, she imagined it would be. If he ever took all his gear off. She focused on his chest, trying to imagine—

  “Lily?”

  “What?”

  Oh dear. She should probably stop imagining…

  “Are you ready to go?”

  She nodded and leaped to her feet.

  He picked up his gun and stood as well, though it took a little longer because he was enormous and he was carrying a heavy pack. He teetered backward and she caught him.

  Well, she tried to catch him. At the very least she succeeded in slowing his tumble. He landed with an oof.

  “Shit!” He shot her a remorseful glance. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  Lily chuckled. “No worries. I’ve heard that word before on occasion.”

  “Still. It’s not appropriate language around a lady.”

  “Who told you that?” She tugged on his arm and helped him stand again, though he did most of the work. He pretended to let her help, which she appreciated.

  “My mother, of course.”

  She tipped up her chin and grinned at him, but her grin froze on her lips. She knew he was tall, but…oh my. “Do you…do you always do what your mother tells you to do?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes twinkled, so she knew he was telling a lie. But a forgivable one. She responded in kind.

  “Me too.”

  They shared a smile then. It might have lasted a moment or an eternity. Lily shivered as the intensity engulfed her. There was something more to that smile than mere amusement. Almost a touch. Oh, not on a physical level—they were definitely touching, as he had his arm around her shoulder and she had her hand on his chest to steady him—but something else. Something ephemeral.

  Then he cleared his throat and looked away and took a tentative step. Then another. Away from her. “Okay,” he said. “I’m fine. I’m good to go. Just a little shaky there for a minute.”

  “Could you have a concussion?”

  “No.” He shook his head…and winced. “I don’t think so. But we’ll take it slow, just to be sure. Ready?”

  “Ready, Teddy.” She was pretty proud of her use of military vernacular, but he didn’t seem impressed. His dark brow came down at a funny angle and he snorted.

  Even though he was anxious to leave, he spent a bit of time hunting the area for his helmet, which he didn’t find. She could have told him he wouldn’t find it. If it had been there, she would have seen it. She was excellent at finding things. Most likely, the pirates had found it on the path last night and taken it, but she didn’t mention this possibility to Stone, because he seemed very attached to that helmet.

  At long last, he gave up with a gusted sigh. “We should probably head out.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’ll be moving toward the south,” he said, as though that made any difference to her. She was just going to follow. “Keep an eye out for any pirates. And let’s keep chatter to a minimum, so I can hear if anyone approaches. Okay?”

  Lily crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a chatterbox.”

  “I didn’t say you are. It’s just that…” He trailed off and then flushed. She knew he flushed because his ears went red.

  “It’s just that…what?”

  “Women like to, I dunno.” He shrugged. “Talk.”

  “Not when we’re in mortal danger.” Sheesh. Was he one of those?

  A ripple of chagrin flickered over his features—but only a ripple. “Okay, fine,” he clipped.

  “Fine.” She spun on her heel and marched away.

  “Lily?”

  Seriously? For someone who was all “we shouldn’t talk,” he sure didn’t wait very long to start a conversation. “What?” She frowned at him over her shoulder.

  He pointed down the beach. “The other way.”

  Her frown darkened. “I knew that,” she muttered, and reversed her steps.

  All right. He was tall and muscular and smelled really good and his voice was sexy as hell.

  But she wasn’t sure if she liked him very much after all.

  Chapter Five

  Goddamn she was cute when she was in a snit. The way her lips pursed and her nose wrinkled. And the way her hips swung as she sashayed away… There ought to be a law.

  It was a damn shame she was the senator’s daughter. If she were just a normal girl, she would definitely be the kind of woman he’d make a play for. Oh, not for any kind of long-term thing. But a night?

  Fuck yeah.

  And then, upon reflection, he changed the night to a weekend in his fantasy. But hell, if it was a fantasy, why stop there? A week in bed with her? Doable. Totally doable.

  She was doable.

  In his fantasies.

  But only there.

  In real life, no way.

  He was a SEAL, dedicated to serving his country. Relationships were tough when a guy was off on missions or running maneuvers. More than a handful of his buddies were divorced because their wives couldn’t take the stress of not knowing if their husbands were alive or dead. Not knowing where he was, or if he was coming home. Not knowing anything. Never knowing…

  He’d seen the impact of that incessant uncertainty on a family. And the devastation when a man didn’t come home. He’d seen it—up close and personal. Mom had never been quite the same.

  Military careers were hell on marriages. It took a special kind of strength to take it.

  Stone had resolved long ago never to do to a woman what his dad had done to his mom, so relationships were out of the question. Since he also didn’t care for one-night stands, that made for a lonely existence.

  His lips curled as he thought of the true reason for his nickname. His buddies razzed him when he didn’t visit the bars and whorehouses while they were posted overseas, when he didn’t avail himself of the services of SEAL groupies at home.

  You never get laid, they said. You must be hard as a stone.

  Well, he was now. Just watching her walk made him hard.

  The best he could do was get her to the extraction point, get her off his hands…and then find a nice comfy happy sock.

  He loved his job. It was always exciting and sometimes as fun as shit. And he liked his life the way it was…with no strings. But damn, if ever there was a woman who might tempt him to want more—

  What the fuck? He yanked the reins on his wayward thoughts.

  Enough. Enough of this shit.

  He was here to perform a mission and that was it.

  Not to stare at her ass or enjoy the feel of her in his arms or fucking sniff her hair.

  Maybe he did have a concussion. A little one at least. Something had knocked him for a loop.

  He caught up to her and yanked her arm, tugging her to the right, into the shadows of the trees. It was a better position to see any oncoming threats without being exposed. He probably shouldn’t have yanked so hard. She shot him a wounded look, but he ignored it.

  It was his job to protect her and that was what he was going to do.

  Even if it meant protecting her from himself.

  Especially that.

  * * *

  He was grumpy.

  Lily had no idea why he was so grumpy, but she chalked it up to the fact that he probably had one heck of a headache. And maybe a concussion.

  Or maybe he was just naturally grumpy.

  He was certainly cold. Detached. Unemotional. Like a machine.

  She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. With all that goo on his face, it was hard to read his expression, but she could tell he was constantly scanning for threats as they made their way south along the fringe of the trees. Every now and again, he would freeze and hold up his fist. She had no idea what that meant. It was probably SEAL code for…something. But after a couple times, she figured out it meant: Stop walking and twiddle your thumbs until I decide it is time to walk again.

  It was hot, and there were swarms of bugs everywhere—some of them bit—but Lily just push
ed through the discomfort. Occasionally, he would stop and they would drink from the little hose on his shoulder. She didn’t take much, because she had no idea how much water he had, or how long it needed to last. He hadn’t mentioned how big this island was or how far they might need to walk.

  She saw neither hide nor hair of the pirates. After a while, she assumed they’d either been killed in the raid or had fled the island…or were waiting up ahead. Thoughts of her fellow captives plagued her. There had been a lot of bullets flying around last night, but she’d been far too frightened to pay close attention. She hoped Brandy and the others were safe, but until they got off this island, she wouldn’t know for certain.

  Stone slowed as they approached a break in the trees. He motioned for her to stay back as he crept ahead to scout the clearing and make sure it was safe to pass. While as a general rule, Lily did not appreciate being told to stay, like a dog, she was willing to cooperate in this instance.

  She sat down on a hummock of dirt and pulled off her shoes while he scuttled to the clearing. She dumped out the sand and massaged her toes, glancing back the way they’d come. How far had they walked? Four miles? Five? Tough to tell but judging from the position of the sun, it was early afternoon.

  Her stomach growled as she slipped her shoes back on. She thought dreamily of the meatloaf she’d mocked this morning. What she wouldn’t give for a small bite of it now—

  She stilled as a twig snapped behind her. Horror rose like lava in her throat. Stone was too far away to have doubled back so quickly. She whirled around, but far too late. Someone grabbed her and covered her mouth with a grimy hand. Someone wiry and strong. Someone who smelled very much like rotten tangerines and sweat.

  Her scream was muffled by his palm. She tasted the filth on his fingers. He yanked her against his bony form; his body heat burned her. He snarled something in her ear, something she didn’t understand…but she recognized his voice.

  Kaafi. The mean one.

  With panic whipping through her, she fought as he tried to drag her into the trees. If he succeeded, Stone might not be able to find her. But Kaafi was bigger than her and stronger. She could tell from the nasty odor clinging to him that he’d been chewing qat, the pirate’s drug of choice.

  As she struggled, something hard hit her side and she realized his rifle was slung over his shoulder. If she could just reach it…

  He swung her around and towed her into the woods, but because he had to keep one hand over her mouth, he wasn’t very effective. She grabbed for trees and roots and bushes…anything she could to slow them down.

  But she’d forgotten how mean he could be.

  The hard slam of his fist to her cheek reminded her. It rang through her skull like a claxon. A very excruciating claxon. She crumpled as the pain blinded her. Kaafi grunted with satisfaction, then took her by the wrists and dragged her deeper into the trees. It occurred to her, through the fog, she could scream now, and she tried, but no sound came out.

  Her mind spun, her nerves shrieked, she rolled in and out of consciousness, but she was aware of several things. First, she was aware of frustration. She hated being weak and small and unable to protect herself from men like this. Second, she was aware—in spotty bits—of the beauty of the sun angling through the trees. Finally, she was aware that when Kaafi stopped, it was in the middle of the woods. He dropped her on the dirt and hunched down to grin at her. His teeth were brown, his breath bilious. She was still stunned from his punch, but not so stunned that she did not know the cold grip of terror when he ripped open her blouse.

  Captain Garnier had assured them that Somali pirates left the women alone. But he’d also said they didn’t murder their hostages. These pirates had killed Pierre without hesitation when he’d tried to escape. Shot him down like a dog.

  Judging from the glint in Kaafi’s eye, he didn’t give a rat’s ass for pirate conventions.

  He dropped his rifle on the ground out of reach and forced her legs apart with his knees. Revulsion licked through her as he shoved his hand between her thighs. His chuckle was dark and foul. She jerked away, rolled from one side to another and hit and clawed and fought until he captured both her wrists in one hand and slapped her again, snarling in clipped and thickly accented English, “Be good.”

  “No,” she wailed.

  No. She’d been good her whole life.

  She was tired of being good.

  So she did something very impolite.

  She kneed him in the groin.

  His eyes bugged out and he sprayed spittle over her face, but he rolled off her, which was what she wanted.

  What she didn’t intend was to enrage him.

  They didn’t tell you about that in self-defense classes…or maybe they had.

  He lurched up on his knees and then struggled to his feet, though nearly doubled over and groaning in pain. The muscles on his neck stood out. His nostrils flared. The glare he shot her burned.

  He bent down, picked up his rifle, and pointed it at her chest. “No good. You die,” he said in a cold voice.

  And he pulled the trigger.

  The click echoed through the clearing, but Lily barely heard it over the pounding of her pulse. Kaafi turned the gun and frowned at it. He smacked it a couple times, pulled out the round, and reloaded it…and then pointed the rifle at her again.

  Lily squeezed her eyes closed and turned her head away. She didn’t know a lot about guns, but the bullet had looked pretty big. She wondered what it would feel like, ripping through her body.

  She hoped it was quick.

  She flinched as the gun fired. The sound was not what she expected. Not a loud bang, but a soft whizz and a dull thud…and then a not so dull thud.

  It didn’t hurt at all.

  Slowly, she cracked open a lid and peeped at Kaafi. He was crumpled on the ground, his eyes open, staring up at the beautiful shafts of light filtering through the leaves. A bubble of blood pooled on his forehead, and then trickled into his hairline.

  Lily grabbed her chest to check, to make sure she wasn’t shot. Or perhaps to remind her heart it was okay to start beating again.

  The brush rustled and she leaped to her feet, angling herself behind the skinny tree. It was probably stupid of her. The tree didn’t really provide much cover, but she felt better having it between her and—

  Her breath gushed out as Stone appeared.

  He barreled toward her at a full run and yanked her into his arms. “Jesus,” he gusted. “Are you okay, Lily?”

  Okay? He was here. He had saved her. Everything was wonderful. She clung to him like a limpet.

  “Yes. Yes.” Were those tears dampening her cheeks? Why? Why now? When she was safe? She peered up at him, attempting to blink them away. He froze as their gazes locked. His attention flicked downward, to her breasts cupped in the lace of her bra. His throat worked.

  “I thought… I thought… Aw, shit.”

  And then he kissed her. Hard. Wild. His mouth was hot and sweet and demanding as he took hers. Tantalizing. Delicious. In that harsh coupling, she tasted a savage rejoicing. And she gave it right back.

  She’d nearly died. But for a jammed round she would have.

  Exhilaration, delight, joy to be alive consumed her.

  Or it might have been the kiss.

  It was a mighty fine kiss.

  It ended far too soon.

  Stone pulled back and stared down at her, his chest working like a bellows, as though he’d run a mile. He threaded his fingers through her hair. “Lily,” he said, his lips tweaking in the ghost of a smile. “I’m so glad you are not dead.”

  She grinned at him and repeated his jest from this morning. “I’m glad too.”

  He missed the joke. Indeed, he frowned. “When I saw his rifle pointed at you, my heart stopped. I was out of range, I had to run…and then, when I saw him shoot—shit.” He kissed her again, this one quick and hungry.

  “But you got him. You got him.” She set her palm on his cheek, ignoring a
ll the shoe polish. No doubt it was all over her face now too. She didn’t care. “Thank you for saving me.”

  “Saving you? I should never have left you alone.” He turned away and raked his scalp with his nails. “What the hell was I thinking?”

  “You were doing your job. Stone… Stone…” She turned him back. “I’m fine. We’re fine…”

  “You almost died.”

  “But I didn’t. Look at me.” She held out her arms.

  He gaped at her. His eyes glazed over. She realized her chest was totally exposed.

  She didn’t care, because when his gaze met hers again, there was a new light in it. This light was not detached or cold in the least. It scorched her. Lit something within her.

  She’d almost been raped and she’d almost been killed, but somehow all that paled next to the realization that she’d almost died without knowing this. His kiss. This passion. A raging need snarled through her, a blazing arousal she didn’t care to explore. She wanted him. Wanted him more than her next breath. And he wanted her.

  “Stone…”

  The sizzling moment shattered. He jerked back, as though suddenly reminded of where they were, of the threat that still loomed. He frowned down at Kaafi’s body. “We should…go.”

  Disappointment ravaged her; she attempted to swallow it. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted…more. Everything.

  But he was probably right. If Kaafi was out here in the woods, there could be others too. And making love next to a dead body, probably not awesome. So when he tugged her lapels together, she let him, and then she tied her blouse under her breasts. Her bra still peeped out when she moved, but a bra was little less than a bikini top, wasn’t it?

  He forced his gaze away and picked up Kaafi’s rifle. “Do you know how to use this?” he asked.

  “I’ve never shot a gun.” Lily shrugged. “Point and pull the trigger?”

  “It’s not a gun. It’s a rifle or a weapon,” he said with a tight smile. Then he showed her how to check for a round, clear the chamber, and switch off the safety, all in quick, practiced moves. It seemed so simple when he did it.