Hot SEALs: A Daye with A SEAL (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Dangerous Curves Series Book 3)

by Donna Michaels

  Gabriel lifted his untouched beer from the table and brought it to his mouth, wishing he’d ordered something a hell of a lot stronger.

  The woman was a killer on his nerves.

  She rose to her feet and eyed the big thug who stepped forward. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “I insist.” Corcoran smiled, but even Gina must’ve noted the underlying steel in the man’s tone because she didn’t protest again.

  “Goodnight.” Nodding, she smiled at Turbo before sparing Gabriel a glance. “Thanks for nothing.”

  As the men snickered, she turned on her booted heel and strode for the exit with the walking brick wall in tow.

  He hoped to God Jon and Cam knew what they were doing because he was not comfortable letting her leave his sight.

  “Okay, first things first.” Corcoran stared at him. “Take off your shades, pal. You’re indoors. I don’t like it. I don’t do business with people I can’t look in the eyes.”

  For the first time that night, Gabriel grinned. “Sure thing, boss.”

  He removed his glasses and basked in the flash of distaste creasing their faces as the weasel and his men flinched.

  Five years ago, when he’d returned to the states, he’d endured two operations to save his eyes and correct as much of his vision as possible. Now, with the use of corrective lenses, he had perfect vision. At Cam’s insistence, he’d had another operation—a form of plastic surgery that’d reduced some of the scarring around his eyes. The doctor wanted to schedule one more a few weeks later, to reduce the scars from forty-five to about ten percent.

  He’d refused.

  He needed the scars. Deserved the damn scars. They were a daily reminder of his failure to save his friend.

  “Jesus, looks like you got in a fight with a hawk…Hawk.” The bastard laughed at his own joke and waved a hand at him. “Go on. Put them back on.”

  With a shrug, he did as he was told.

  “And listen, don’t worry about Ms. Daye.” A slick smile crept across the asshole’s face. “Fergus is a pro with chloroform. She’s probably already sleeping like a baby.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Cam growled in his ear.

  Get in line, Gabriel thought, hand curling into a fist under the table.

  “Consider this a bonus for the girl.” Corcoran proceeded to remove something from his pocket and slid it to him under the table. The corner of an envelope poked Gabriel’s fist.

  He tamped down his emotions and nodded.

  “This changes things. So, let’s get down to business.” The man straightened in his seat. “Once we determine she really doesn’t know her brother’s whereabouts, we’ll use her as bait. Is that going to be a problem?” His gaze returned to him again.

  “Nope,” Gabriel replied. “She’s a pain in the ass.”

  Corcoran laughed. “Yeah, didn’t seem to be any love lost between you two.” Then he shifted his attention to Turbo. “How about you?”

  “Not if we’re getting compensated for it.” His buddy smiled.

  “My kind of guys.” Corcoran clinked glasses with them, finished his whiskey, slammed his glass on the table and stood. “I have your numbers. We’ll be in touch.”

  “Shit. That leviathan put my unconscious sister in the back of their vehicle. He’s a dead man,” Cam growled.

  Gabriel cursed under his breath and imagined targets on the backs of Corcoran and his two thugs retreating from the bar. “And the tracker?”

  “Working perfectly,” Jon answered through the com. “We have a strong signal. Wait another minute then come out.”

  That was sixty seconds too long. His chest was tight and grew heavier the further those bastards drove away with Gina.

  He rose to his feet and Turbo followed suit.

  “This sucks,” his buddy muttered, dropping money on the table to pay the bar tab.

  Gabriel nodded. He had the feeling things were going to get worse.

  Chapter Three

  The sound of murmured voices and an occasional snicker skittered through Gina’s brain as she struggled to wake. There was something urgent she needed to do, but she couldn’t remember what it was, or crack her eyes open for more than a second. She was too groggy and tired.

  Another commotion rustled her awake, and she caught a glimpse of a crumpled body before her eyes drifted shut again. Then someone’s hands were on her, lifting her up. She flailed and pushed with all her might.

  At least she thought she did. Maybe she was dreaming.

  “Shh…it’s okay, Gina. I got you,” a low voice whispered near her ear. “It’s me, Hawk. You’re going to be okay.”

  Hawk?

  Now she knew she was dreaming. Hawk always came to her in her dreams.

  “Okay,” she whispered back. She slid her arms up around his neck and snuggled into his solid chest. Damn, he felt good.

  This dream was so real. She swore she could feel the thud of his heart pounding against her chest. Not stupid, she took advantage of the situation and brushed his throat and jaw with her lips. The man always did have that to-die-for stubble. She kissed him again, then strayed to his neck and sunk her teeth right behind his ear. His grip tightened while he muttered a curse.

  Best dream ever.

  She decided not to try to open her eyes again. They were too heavy anyway, as if glued shut, and her mind was so damn foggy. Why bother?

  It was the weekend. She didn’t have work…and, she was having the greatest dream with Hawk. No, she didn’t want to wake up just yet, so she held on tight and gave herself over to the darkness.

  Sometime later, she slowly opened her eyes and instantly regretted the action. Her head pounded like a bitch and her mouth felt like she’d swallowed a bag of cotton balls.

  What the hell?

  She didn’t have anything to drink at the bar last night.

  Shit. The bar…

  Gina sat straight up as the events in the parking lot rushed back. Then promptly covered her mouth, closed her eyes, and eased down onto the pillow in an attempt to keep from hurling. That big bastard had shoved a chloroform-soaked rag in her face last night.

  As her nausea receded, she slowly opened her eyes to find she was in a large bed in a sparse but clean bedroom. She was still dressed, thank God, except for her boots and jacket, which she saw in the opened closet, along with a suitcase that she didn’t recognize. There was an armoire, a window, and a nightstand with a lamp, a glass of water, and what appeared to be…two aspirin?

  Very strange for a kidnapper to care about the pounding headache he’d caused.

  Probably some other kind of drug.

  As much as she wanted to relieve her dry throat and the throb from her head, she ignored the items on the nightstand and slowly rose to her feet. When the room stopped spinning, she walked toward the window and peered out at a deserted shoreline.

  Was she still in Virginia Beach?

  She didn’t think so. Seemed too unpopulated.

  Why the hell had Corcoran grabbed her? Was she a means to get to her brother?

  Hell no. Not if she could help it. She needed to get out of there, but judging by the distance to the ground, she’d never make the drop without breaking something.

  That meant she had to get downstairs. She rushed to the closet, slipped on her boots and coat, before she put her ear to the door.

  Silence.

  She frowned. Granted, she’d never been kidnapped before, but this seemed like a piss-poor job. Shouldn’t she have been in an empty room shackled to a wall or a metal bed with a lumpy mattress?

  Not that she was complaining.

  And where were the bad guy guards?

  Gina hoped her luck continued as she held her breath and tried the door, beyond shocked when the knob twisted open. Not waiting to see if she tripped an alarm, she hurried down the hall, passed another bedroom that was empty, and a bathroom she wished she had time to use, then quickly but quietly descended the stairs.

  The smell of bacon fille
d the air and her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday afternoon. Too bad. She’d eat after she got away and called Jameson Knight.

  Except…damn, she didn’t have her purse or her phone. She shoved her hand in her coat pocket and pulled out two cards. One was Corcoran’s. The other was Mr. Knight’s.

  Finding a phone shouldn’t be too hard once she escaped.

  She stuffed the cards back in her pocket and could hear rustling in the kitchen on the other side of the wall. She leaned against it and rubbed her temples, eyeing the area in front of her. Couch, chair, end table, coffee table, and TV. The room had the same utilitarian flair as the bedroom. She was glad it was empty, too. And judging by the lack of chatter in the kitchen, there must only be one goon.

  Could she be that lucky?

  Not about to complain, she studied the front door. One deadbolt. She could do it. She had a straight shot, no furniture hindered her path. But, the floor was wooden, with throw rugs tossed about, and the door was a good hundred feet away…right in the line of sight of the kitchen.

  Her only hope was that Fergus, or whoever was in there, had his back to the living room when she ran.

  With a deep breath, she tip-toed on the throw rug, happy it masked the sound of her boots.

  “Gina!”

  She stilled at the sound of the familiar voice and turned toward the kitchen. “Hawk?”

  Why was he there? Her mind immediately conjured her delicious dream and her body heated. Stupid body. She shook the fog from her brain and frowned. The guy hadn’t exactly helped her at the bar. In fact, he’d been there to meet with Corcoran.

  Shit!

  They must have him watching her.

  She twisted around and raced for the door. It was locked.

  “Gina, wait!”

  Of course it was locked. The jerk was keeping her prisoner. Her chest tightened at the thought of someone she’d respected and trusted all these years turning traitor. Pain sliced through her heart, and increased the pounding in her head. It was all too surreal.

  A burning appeared behind her eyes as she fumbled with the deadbolt. Dammit. She was not going to shed a tear over that man.

  “Gina! Listen to me.” Two large hands reached around to grip her wrists and broke her hold on the doorknob. “Listen to me.”

  Bullshit. She struggled, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow. He cursed, but didn’t let go.

  “Damn it, Gina. Stop.” He held her palms flat on the door above her head and pressed into her back with his solid body. “I’m not the enemy.”

  His warm breath hit her neck in spurts, sending goose bumps down her back.

  And it wasn’t from fear. It was from something much worse. Dammit. She did not want this attraction. It was sick.

  She stopped struggling, hoping he’d ease up and move away. She couldn’t take much more of his body brushing hers. “Then why are you holding me prisoner?”

  “I’m not.”

  Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the tremors wracking her body.

  Sick. Just sick.

  “S-so, why is the door locked?”

  He sighed, sending more of those damn goose bumps over her skin, this time down her right breast.

  Are you freaking kidding me? Now her nipple peaked.

  “Look, do you promise to behave if I let go of you?” His damn lips brushed her neck while he talked.

  Now both nipples were high-beaming.

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  Idiot! That only caused more brushing of his lips.

  “Okay.” He released her wrists and stepped back.

  She drew in a ragged breath. As she lowered her arms, she pushed off the door and side-stepped him to race for the kitchen, hoping to God there was a back door.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” he growled, lunging for her and grasping her arm.

  Gina’s fingers shook as she unzipped her coat and slipped out of it—and his hold—before he could stop her. His muttered oath echoed around them.

  Not bad for a business major, she thought, and a burst of renewed energy rushed through her at the sight of the door.

  But a second later, she was on the kitchen floor, wrestling with one pissed off former SEAL.

  He overpowered her with ease, and once again, used his muscled body to immobilize her. This time, she was flat on her back with her hands stretched out above her head, while he pinned her to the floor.

  Shit.

  Without the protective layer of her coat, she felt everything the guy was packing.

  And, oh hell, he was packing.

  And pissed. His breath was coming out in spurts through thin lips. “Damn it, Gina. Just stop and listen to me.”

  Like she had a choice. She stopped struggling and grit her teeth. “Fine.”

  “I’m not the enemy,” he said again.

  “Then why did you kidnap me?”

  He blew out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. “I didn’t kidnap you. I rescued you.”

  She blinked as snippets of her dream flashed through her mind. Her body immediately responded with a tremor. “I-I don’t remember you in the parking lot.”

  Only the dream where she’d snuggled into the delicious muscles now brushing her with an intimacy her body enjoyed way too much. He was so close she could see him blink through his sunglasses.

  “I wasn’t.”

  It took her a moment to remember what she’d said. The hard-bodied SEAL was seriously screwing up her thought process. “Then how…what exactly…look, can you get off me?”

  He cocked his head and raised a brow. “So you can run again? I don’t think so.”

  Okay, she deserved that.

  “Fine. What happened? How did I get here? And where are we anyway?”

  This was a bittersweet pill. One part of her wanted to push him away, the other wanted to wrap her legs around his hips and thrust against that bulge in his crotch.

  Yeah. Sick. Just sick.

  “Corcoran’s man chloroformed you. I followed, grabbed you, and brought you to this safehouse in North Carolina.”

  Hope sparked in her soul and loosened the vise squeezing her heart. Perhaps he didn’t have anything to do with it after all.

  If that was true, then…oh boy. Maybe last night wasn’t exactly a dream.

  Damn.

  Hawk really had rescued her.

  Heat rushed to her face and she couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping to his jaw and neck.

  Double damn.

  She was going to leave that elephant there in the room and move on. Or divert. “Do I smell bacon burning?”

  A smile tugged his lips. “I shut the stove off and removed the pan before I ran after you. Nice try, though.”

  She didn’t rise to the bait. It was in her best interest to completely ignore that last remark. “Well, I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I think I’d scarf down the bacon even if it was burnt.”

  Lucky for her, he took the hint. Even had the good grace to look contrite. He started to move, then stopped. “You’re not going to make me cuff you to the table, are you?”

  Oh, sweet mercy. An image of him handcuffed to a bed flashed through her stupid head. “N-no.”

  As if he didn’t quite believe her, he rolled off, grabbed her arm, and brought them both to their feet. Then escorted her to the table…still holding her arm. For a moment, she thought he was going to produce the handcuffs he’d discussed.

  “Sit down.” He kept her in his line of sight as he transferred the bacon to a dish and slid it in front of her. “You can start on this while I fix you some eggs.”

  Gina had to admit, she was a bit surprised Hawk cooked. Until she remembered he was a former SEAL. She rubbed her temple and smiled. They were trained to be efficient in…well…everything.

  “Here, take these.” He set a glass of water near two aspirin. “I gather you ignored the ones I left on the nightstand?”

  She nodded as warmth flooded her body. His concern was
new. She was used to his disdain. “I wasn’t about to drink anything or take any pills from a kidnapper.”

  He stared at her, but he was too far away for her to see behind his glasses anymore. “Smart. But, I can assure you these are fine. You can trust me, Gina.”

  She did, now that she knew the truth. “I know.” To prove it, she took the pills and drank half the water. “Thanks.”

  He gave a curt nod then returned to the stove.

  She glanced around the modern kitchen, noting a window by the sink, black appliances, formica countertops, and a snack bar with three stools. “So, who exactly do you know that owns a safehouse?”

  “I have a friend who owns the Guardian Angel Protection Service, GAPS for short, and they rented this cottage for us under aliases, stocked it with food, and set a suitcase of clothes for you in your closet.”

  An old SEAL buddy, no doubt. GAPS seemed like the sort of outfit a former military man would start up. They probably hired several as employees, too. She knew it was hard for returning military to adjust, or reinvent themselves, and tough to forget all that training and skill.

  Thank God her brother opted for more of a civilian-type security job at the museum. Much safer for him to guard inanimate objects, instead of living, breathing ones.

  A fourteenth century Ming Dynasty vase couldn’t pull a trigger.

  She watched Hawk beat a half-dozen eggs into submission. “So you called this buddy last night and asked him if he had one you could use?”

  His back stiffened a moment before he poured the eggs into the pan. “Something like that.”

  “Must be a good friend.”

  “He is.”

  Shoot. Not very forthcoming. “Does he know my brother?”

  Again, Hawk stilled. “Yes.”

  Her heart leapt. She was out of her chair and rushing toward him in a second. “Does he know where Cam is? Can we ask him?” Her questions came out in a gush, but he seemed to catch them because he turned to her and nodded.

  “I already did. Jon and Turbo are on it,” he assured as he dropped four slices of bread in the toaster. “We agreed you’re safer here.”

  A smidgen of relief skittered through her body. Cam’s SEAL buddies were looking for him. It was only a matter of time before they found him. That left her with another question. “Why did Corcoran grab me?”