Her SEAL Protector

by Jillian Burns

  “You think she arranged to have herself kidnapped in a foreign country and get a guy killed, too? She’s not like that. I know her.”

  “You know her? Bro, how involved are you with this woman?”

  “I’m not. I mean, I am, but it’s not like that.”

  There was silence on the other end. But Clay heard Neil’s unspoken question loud and clear. What was it like, then? Clay had no answer. All he knew was Gabby had come to him when she had no one else to turn to. She’d trusted him. And he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. Not on his watch. “Look, Barrow, all I’m saying is I trust my gut and my gut tells me she’s in real trouble and I want to make sure she’s safe.”

  Neil whistled. “You’ve got it bad.”

  Clay scoffed. “You’re delusional. Just because I don’t think she’s a crackpot.”

  “So, what do you want to do? I have to be in Mumbai tomorrow.”

  What did he want to do? Or what should he do? Clay could barely think for all the rage and frustration raising his blood pressure. Surely Gabby wouldn’t go to this conference now. On the other hand, he did have some leave coming...

  No. He was no bodyguard. Better to convince Gabby to stay home.

  But what if she wouldn’t? And what if something happened to her and he wasn’t there to stop it?

  “Barrow, I want full background checks on everyone close to Gabby. Her family, her colleagues, even the bank president who was shot in the jungle. And send me a bill.”

  “You got it. And in the meantime?”

  “I want to hire your best guy. I want someone watching her 24/7.”

  “No problem. I’ll even give you the family discount. But, bro?”

  “What?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to take care of this yourself? I hear Switzerland can be a romantic getaway.”

  Clay cursed him and ended the call.

  10

  “THIS IS YOUR last chance to make the smart decision.”

  Ignoring Clay’s warning—even if his low voice made her spine tingle—Gabby shouldered her phone at her ear while she handed her boarding pass to the Swiss Air Lines attendant.

  “Gabby! Don’t be stupid. It’s not worth your life.” Clay sounded really agitated now. He’d been trying all week to talk her out of attending the conference. Every night he called or texted to make sure she was safe. She had no clue how to feel about that. He’d made it clear when he dropped her off at the train in Virginia Beach that he didn’t want to see her again. And things were so awkward between them whenever he contacted her.

  She switched the phone to her other ear and grabbed the handle of her carry-on. “I appreciate your concern, Clay, I do. But I’ve been practicing my self-defense at a dojo and I have my pepper spray in my checked luggage.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Thank you for everything, Clay. I have to go now.”

  Before he could say anything else, she clicked off the phone, dropped it in her purse and rolled her carry-on through the terminal door onto the jet bridge. But she stopped just on the other side.

  Was she being stupid? He was right that once she got on this plane, there was no turning back. She reached for her Mary medal but, of course, it wasn’t there. Panic paralyzed her. What good was a career if she was dead? What if she got kidnapped again? What if she died this time? Or what if someone else got killed because of her?

  No. She closed her eyes. This was about more than her job. If she didn’t get back on the horse now—or in this case, get on a plane—she’d never go anywhere again. Might as well move back in with her parents, join her mom cleaning houses and wait to die of old age. And darn it, she’d made a promise to herself in that jungle to have a life.

  “Everything okay, Gabby?” James asked from behind her.

  Startled, she moved to the side to let him and the other passengers go ahead. “I’m good,” she answered, smiling at James. “Just making sure I didn’t forget something.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, she hitched her purse up on her shoulder and headed down the jet bridge.

  “Gabby! Wait!”

  She looked back to see Clay lope up to the ticket agent and hand off a boarding pass. “Clay?”

  Hefting a large black duffel over his shoulder, he caught up to her. “I’m going with you.”

  She couldn’t believe he was here. He looked tense, grim, irritated. She made herself close her mouth. Then opened it again to refuse his offer. Well, not an offer so much as a command. But she felt safer having him beside her. She wasn’t stupid. “What about the SEALs? How did you—”

  “Can’t a guy take some leave to be with his girl?” he cut her off as a few other passengers passed them by.

  “His girl?”

  He smiled, threw his arm around her shoulders, grabbed her carry-on with his free hand and propelled them down the jet bridge toward the plane. “We can’t keep it a secret forever, you know. You’ll have to tell everyone I’m your boyfriend eventually.”

  Boyfriend? She glanced at his hand as it squeezed her shoulder. Was it sad that knowing it was a ruse didn’t keep her from relishing the sound of that?

  For the entire flight, whenever anyone passed their seats, Clay grabbed her hand and held it, fingers entwined. Twice she woke up with her head on his shoulder. And once, she awoke with his hand caressing her cheek.

  Or maybe he’d just been trying to move her.

  Either way, nothing mattered—not twelve hours of traveling, nor the fact that it was the next morning local time yet felt like midnight to her, nor that once they arrived in Zurich they still had an hour train ride through the Alps to Lucerne. She was in Switzerland! With Clay posing as her boyfriend. To protect her.

  Stepping off the train into the picturesque town square of Lucerne, with its medieval buildings and cobbled lanes, seemed like a fairy tale. And walking into the Hotel Palace Luzern with Clay’s arm around her? She couldn’t have even dreamed a fairy tale that good. The hotel used to be a real palace!

  Their room had a balcony that overlooked the Reuss River. Gabby threw open the French doors and stepped out to the wrought-iron balustrade, huddling into her coat as she took in the view. Swans skimmed along the river’s surface. White-tipped mountains jagged along the horizon, the tallest peaks hidden by clouds.

  Her senses were overwhelmed. With nature. With the history here. With all the marble and gold in their opulent room.

  With the giant bed dominating one wall.

  Clay hadn’t booked a separate accommodation, so... Was she really supposed to share a room with him for the next five days? He might be here to keep her body safe, but who was going to protect her heart? She was done throwing herself at him. But she hoped they could be friends. She guessed that was what he wanted.

  Was it possible to mourn the loss of something she’d never even had?

  “Keeping you safe here will be a nightmare.” Clay spoke from behind her. “You don’t go anywhere alone, got it?”

  She turned to face him and found her nose almost touching his chest. It wasn’t just the crisp air that made her want to snuggle closer to his heat. “You’re going to attend the workshops with me?” She checked her conference program. “The Impact of Globalized Retrenchment on Risked Assets should be especially fascinating for you.” She grinned up at him. How could she not? She was in Switzerland!

  He didn’t crack a smile. Not even a tiny lift of his lips. “How can you joke around?”

  She sighed, sidestepped him and tugged off her coat. “I do realize the seriousness of my situation.” Stopping in the middle of the room, she stretched out her arms and spun to face him. “But, come on, Clay. Look at this place. It’s gorgeous. If I’m going to risk my life by being here, I might as well enjoy every minute. Carpe diem, right?”

  He shook his head, his ja
w working. He’d shaved the beard from last week, but after the long flight his five o’clock shadow was more like a day’s growth. His mahogany hair was just long enough to have a slight wave. He looked so handsome, but so grim. She yearned to put her arms around him, hold him tight and assure him everything would be okay.

  But he wouldn’t appreciate that.

  Looking closer, she could see tired lines around his eyes and between his brows. As far as she knew he hadn’t slept on the flight over. “You must be exhausted. Why don’t you take a nap? I promise I won’t go anywhere without you.”

  He frowned while his gaze shifted from her to the bed. “I’m fine.”

  With a frustrated growl she rolled her eyes. What? Did he think she would jump him and demand sex if he let down his guard? She had her pride. “You can’t protect me if you’re falling asleep.”

  He shrugged out of his heavy coat. “I’ve been in war zones under heavy fire on less sleep than this.”

  “Oh. Right.” She remembered he hadn’t slept in the jungle that night either.

  Expression stern, he stalked to the seating area, threw his coat over a chintz-covered chair and then paced to stand in front of a gilded seven-foot wardrobe. He flung open the doors and slid his hands along the wood panels and behind the television.

  His muscles bunched beneath his sweater. Every move was a study in control and efficiency. She could watch him for hours.

  But she wasn’t into torturing herself. “I guess you’ve been to lots of exotic places around the world.”

  “I hate traveling.” He glanced at her with a grimace then resumed his inspection of the room, running his hands over the dresser, yanking open every drawer.

  “That’s understandable. Guess there isn’t much to see in the places you usually get sent to.”

  He prowled to a bedside table, lifted a lamp to inspect the base and then felt the shade.

  She cleared her throat. “Not a lot of sights to see in a war zone.” She should just stop.

  Ignoring her, he stalked into the bathroom, opened the cabinet beneath the marble vanity, checked inside the shower stall.

  Hoping he might tell her something—anything—about himself, she followed him to the bathroom. “Ever been anywhere that wasn’t a war zone?”

  He paused and met her gaze. “Sometimes we stop over for some R & R before returning stateside.”

  “Really? Like where?”

  He leaned a hip on the vanity and folded his arms across his chest. “Germany. Japan. Guam.” He shifted his gaze upward “Hawaii, Spain. Rio, once.”

  “Wow. You really have been everywhere. I’d never even left Texas until I moved to New York.” She’d been twenty-four and never farther than three hours from home. “How long have you been in the Navy?”

  “Joined when I was seventeen. So...thirteen years.”

  “I thought you had to be eighteen to join the military.”

  “My stepdad had to sign for me.” A hard glint came into his eyes. “’Bout the only time he ever said yes to anything I wanted.”

  Sounded like there was no love lost between him and his stepdad. “What about your mom? Did she mind you joining the Navy so young?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t seem to care one way or the other.” He rummaged through the complimentary basket of shampoos and lotions next to the sink. “Never did.”

  Was he saying his mother never cared about him? That couldn’t be right. But Gabby remembered he’d told her he went to work in a quarry when he was fourteen... “Are they still alive—your mom and dad?”

  “Stepdad,” he replied, his tone filled with bitterness. “And yes. As far as I know.”

  Whoa. As far as he knew? She flinched from his barely contained anger. “And your sister, is she married?”

  “Unfortunately. Two cute kids, though.”

  “Her husband’s not...nice?”

  “Do you know anyone happily married? I mean, not including newlyweds?”

  “Happily?” She thought about her parents. They weren’t unhappy. But they weren’t giddy in love either. She knew they loved each other, but she’d never heard them actually say the words. She got the sense that they each did what was expected of them, played their part. They were a team. Was that enough for a happy marriage? Gabby swallowed a lump in her throat. She wanted more. “I guess not. But that doesn’t mean—”

  “And my buddy—” He snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, you know Neil. He got engaged a few weeks ago.” He shook his head. “Poor sap.”

  O-kay. Message received loud and clear. To Clay, marriage was a fate worse than death. His childhood must’ve been pretty bad. Yet he was a good man. He’d treated her with nothing but respect. And he’d made something of his life. Served his country. Now he was risking himself again for her. There was more to him than—what had he called himself at the embassy in Paraguay? A grunt? No, he was definitely more than that.

  Part of her longed to make him see that two people who were truly in love could make a relationship work. Could be happy. But who was she kidding? The other part of her knew she wasn’t the type of woman to inspire that kind of all-consuming love. She’d made enough of a fool of herself around this guy to last a lifetime.

  Let it go, Gabby.

  “Well, I’m taking a long soak in that fancy tub, then ordering room service for dinner—since I have a per diem—and studying the conference schedule before bed.” She spun and headed for her suitcase, kicked off her shoes and tore off her suit jacket.

  While she removed her earrings, she caught Clay from the corner of her eye checking out the sofa, grabbing the extra blanket from the wardrobe, rearranging the cushions. Guess he was sleeping on the couch. With a sigh she grabbed her phone, the room service menu and her toiletries case, and headed for the bathroom.

  As she sank into the huge tub of hot water and bubbles, she closed her eyes, laid her head back and tried not to imagine Clay sitting behind her, arms wrapped around her, nibbling on her neck...

  * * *

  HE MUST BE out of his mind to have used up the last of his leave for this.

  When Clay heard water splashing on the other side of the bathroom door, he hightailed it for the hallway and positioned himself outside their room.

  Five days of this. Five days of her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her brows crinkling in concern. Biting her lip.

  How had she gotten him to talk about his mother and stepfather? He’d probably talked more about his family with her than...anyone. Even Neil.

  He needed something to do to take his mind off Gabby.

  Gabby lying naked in a bathtub...

  A door opened down the hall and Clay straightened from the door, his hand reaching for the pistol under his left armpit. A couple stepped out, heads tilted toward each other, talking as they walked toward the elevator. He smiled and nodded as they passed.

  How was he supposed to protect Gabby in this environment? He almost hadn’t gotten his guns through airport security. And he still needed to do some recon of the area. Scope out the hotel’s back exits and employee entrances. Talk with the chief of security and his team. Inform them of the situation. Ask for a detailed layout of the hotel...

  Had he been in the hallway long enough for Gabby to have her bath? How much time did a woman take when she was soaking? He closed his eyes while he imagined her soaping her breasts, her nipples peeking just above the water...

  The elevator dinged and the doors swished open. A hotel employee rolled out a room service cart with silver-domed plates. Clay kept his hand on his weapon as the guy stopped the cart in front of him. Why hadn’t he told Gabby not to order room service? Should he taste all that food? There was a lot to being a bodyguard. Things he hadn’t thought of that Neil would know. He should’ve hired one of Neil’s men to do this.

  He tipp
ed the room service guy and assured him he’d wheel the cart into the room himself, and then watched the employee get on the elevator. After the doors closed behind the guy, Clay lifted all the lids—Gabby had ordered two of everything—and checked under the skirt of the rolling table, then used his keycard to get back inside the room.

  The bathroom door was still shut, and he moved closer to listen for signs that she might be done. “Gabby, dinner is here,” he called through the door.

  No answer.

  He knocked. “Gabby, are you okay?”

  Still no answer. No water splashing. He grabbed the doorknob. Locked. “Gabby! I’m coming in!”

  Clay drew his firearm and shoved his shoulder into the bathroom door. As it slammed open, he burst into the room, Sig aimed.

  Gabby screamed and straightened, dropping the foot she’d had propped on the edge of the tub. When she twisted to face him, her earbuds popped out as the phone they were attached to fell off the vanity. She stood frozen, wide-eyed terror etched on her face.

  And every inch of her was beautifully, gorgeously naked.

  11

  CLAY HOLSTERED HIS Sig and curled his hands into fists. Only sheer will kept him from sweeping her into his arms and carrying her out to that big bed... Oh, the places his mind went as he absorbed every light and shadow playing over Gabby’s golden-brown skin, her long, black hair curling in wet ringlets. He wanted to cup her full breasts and palm her bronze nipples until they tightened to hard pebbles he could flick with his tongue and—

  He spun to face the door and somehow made it out onto the balcony. Deep breaths. Bracing cold air. What he really needed was to cannonball into the freezing river six stories below. His cock actually throbbed.

  Once he’d gotten himself under control, he went back inside. Gabby was sitting at the table where she’d set out the food. She’d put on loose-fitting pajamas with a thick robe. He approached. Her hands shook as she stirred her tea. Her long black hair was still wet, but slicked back from her flushed face. Baggy flannel pj’s had never looked so—the word that came to him was alluring.