Hers To Take

by Karen Anders

  “Damn it, Red, you’re killing me.”

  With her tongue Sienna trailed a path down A.J.’s rigid stomach to the snap of his pants. “If I take them off, I’ll take them off my way.”

  A.J. moaned softly, caressing her hair, her shoulders.

  She gripped his waistband and tugged; the navy whites fell to the floor. She kissed the satin-smooth skin at the edge of his briefs. “I don’t think these are standard navy issue….”

  His breathing was ragged, but Sienna couldn’t stop. With a quick move, she pulled the underwear down.

  A.J. groaned.

  Cupping his hard, hot arousal in her hands, she said softly, “No, sirree, this is not standard in any way.”

  Dear Reader,

  Hers to Take is the first book in my miniseries Women Who Dare—where three friends dare each other to taste the forbidden and get a souvenir!

  A. J. Camacho wants to find his brother and Sienna Parker wants to get dangerous guns off the streets of San Diego. Trouble is A.J.’s brother seems like the guy who took the guns and Sienna, being a rules and regs cop, is going after him.

  Mixing a free-thinking U.S. Navy SEAL with a straight-arrow cop naturally leads them to conflict. Except my characters can’t help an intense attraction, hot passion and heightened emotions from bringing them closer together.

  I hope you enjoy reading about my tough and tender characters and how they overcome their own personal fears. I love to hear from my readers so please drop me an e-mail at www.karenanders.com.

  Enjoy!

  Karen Anders

  P.S. In November, look for #111 Yours to Seduce, book 2 in the Women Who Dare miniseries.

  Books by Karen Anders

  HARLEQUIN BLAZE

  22—THE BARE FACTS

  43—HOT ON HER TAIL

  74—THE DIVA DIARIES

  HERS TO TAKE

  Karen Anders

  To my best American hero

  Thanks, Dad

  A special acknowledgment to Captain Bill Pattee, USN (retired), for his assistance with all things Navy. I would also like to thank Brenda and Tom Fish for help with the San Diego area. Any mistakes are mine.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  1

  NORMALLY, SIENNA PARKER wouldn’t mind a gorgeous, 210-pound muscular male straddling her hips.

  Except this guy wasn’t a lover and he had her pinned flat on her back. His arm was across her throat and Sienna could barely breathe. When she looked up into his face, he looked back with a pair of narrowed electric blue eyes, fringed by long, dark lashes. Thick black, temple-cut hair hung around his forehead, grazing his ears. For a moment, just a tiny moment, she lost herself in the look of him.

  She blinked, realizing that the only opportunity she had was to go for the groin. Normally, that wouldn’t bother her, either, but in this case, she expected to do some damage. Her knee came up, but the guy was quick. As quick as he’d been when she’d approached David Buckner’s apartment, found the door ajar, and suspicious rustlings going on inside. It had made her worried enough to pick up her radio and call for backup.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” His voice rasped out.

  “Detective Sienna Parker, San Diego Police Department,” she whispered around the pressure on her throat.

  She should have waited for her backup, instead of worrying about losing a lead. She couldn’t follow any leads if she was dead, all the more reason to never go against the rule book again.

  He immediately eased up on her neck. Surprise, then wariness, showed on his handsome face. “You’re a cop?”

  Now and forever! Detective Sienna Parker always played by the rule book. Her friends said that if she could, she’d have No Buts tattooed on her behind.

  Keenly aware of the choke hold on her neck and the heat radiating from his body, she regained some of her equilibrium. After all, she was a decorated cop, young, smart and even though he had the drop on her right now, things could change fast. She threatened, “You got it and just so you know, you’re facing arrest charges for assaulting an officer.”

  And he’d been very good at assault.

  Even though she’d been off duty, she’d followed procedure, reached back and pulled out her 9mm Smith & Wesson and thumbed off the safety. Gently, she’d pushed the door open and slipped inside, the gun pointed straight out in front of her. She’d walked into the living room and discovered a man at Buckner’s desk, looking through the contents. As stealthily as possible, she’d approached the man from behind. But before she could say, “Freeze, police!” he moved faster than any man she’d ever seen before.

  Her gun was gone. Kicked out of her hands, numbing her fingers and her wrist in an exceptional kick that he performed with ease and grace. Then he was on her, bearing her to the rug, his forearm across her throat. She looked up at him, realizing he could snap her neck like a twig.

  “Let me see your badge.”

  Sienna reached down between their bodies, the back of her hand sliding along hard packed muscle until she reached her blazer pocket. She pulled the leather jacket free, brought it up to his face and flipped it open.

  He studied the oblong shield and then looked into her eyes. “I didn’t know you were a cop. I don’t like people sneaking up behind me with guns. Makes me testy.” His shoulders blocked out the desk and the window beyond. All she could see was part of the curtains. But she could hear a siren getting closer. Her backup was on the way and if they found her like this, she’d never live it down. Her fellow officers loved to rib her, first because she was a woman and second because she’d sped through the patrol ranks and made detective faster than any man in her graduating class at the academy.

  “You know what makes me testy, mister? Being restrained by some guy who’s just committed a B and E. Who the hell are you?”

  She felt his powerful stomach muscles clench in an effort to rise. “Lieutenant A. J. Camacho, United States Navy.”

  “Well, Lieutenant A. J. Camacho of the United States Navy…get off me!” She wasn’t shouting, but there was a core of steel accompanying every word.

  A.J. got off her and reached out his hand to help her up. Sienna felt it the moment she placed her hand in his—electricity, heat, chemistry. Whatever one wanted to call it. It was there in the air crackling between them.

  With a swift pull, he had her on her feet. He stood with ease; his unzipped leather bomber jacket revealing a blue chambray shirt open at the collar, exposing a strong neck. She could see a glint of his dog tags along with some kind of gold medallion around his throat that she immediately recognized as a Saint Christopher medal. Standing, he was impressively built and had muscles that were exquisitely honed. Snug jeans molded down long muscular legs and ended at scuffed black boots.

  He walked over to retrieve her gun. Sienna moved fast, kicking his leg out from under him and sending him down on one knee. She snatched up her gun.

  She pointed the weapon at him and said, “Put your hands behind your head and don’t move.”

  “I told you I’m with the Navy.”

  “So you say.”

  “Not the trusting type?”

  “Not when some guy who claims to be with the Navy just had me pinned to the floor in an apartment that belongs to a man I need to question.”

  “Like hell!” he bellowed, still on bent knee as he turned toward her. “For what?”

  “I don’t have to expl
ain anything to you.”

  “Can I rise?”

  “As long as you keep your hands where I can see them.”

  A.J. straightened and let his hands fall loosely to his sides. His stance was completely deceptive and, to anyone else, he would probably look at ease and harmless, but Sienna had a keen eye. He looked like a man who could snap to attention in a second or take down an opponent even faster with deadly results.

  “Can I get my ID out?”

  “Two fingers,” she cautioned.

  He retrieved it and sure enough, it said he was Lieutenant A. J. Camacho, but Sienna wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. Look what happened when she’d neglected to follow police procedure.

  “I have every right to be here.”

  “That so?” She rubbed at her neck and he was instantly contrite.

  “Sorry about that.” He approached her and wasn’t alarmed when she steadied the gun at him. He pushed it aside, lifting her fingers so he could see her flesh. With his thumbs, he caressed the skin he’d abraded. “That’s going to bruise. I’m really sorry about that.”

  Sienna stepped away from his disturbing touch. Admitting that he clearly wasn’t a dangerous criminal, she holstered her gun. The steadiness of his gaze unnerved her, but Sienna drew a deep, uneven breath and made herself respond, her tone deliberately chastising. “Maybe some day I can return the favor.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a cheeky off center grin. “I had no idea you were a woman, but I can sure see now how sadly mistaken I was.”

  Sienna looked up into his arresting eyes and took a deep breath. There was something about that smile that went straight to her heart. Damn, she’d always been a sucker for charmers. Her lot in life. “Sweet-talking me? Think that’ll get you off the hook?”

  Giving her a bad-boy grin, he said, “I can only throw myself on the mercy of the law.”

  “That would be the mercy of the court,” Sienna corrected him and then sobered, trying to regain some of her professionalism. “What are you doing here?”

  His gaze turned serious and repentant at the same time. “I’m looking for David…ah, Corporal Buckner.”

  “Is he AWOL?”

  His brows lifted. “Unauthorized Leave—UL. The Navy doesn’t use the AWOL acronym.”

  Sienna shrugged. Something about him sent warning bells to her brain. Danger, danger, danger. “Okay. Is he on unauthorized leave?”

  “No.” The distinct sound of hot wheels on asphalt was loud in the night. He looked away, went to the window and peeked out. “Looks like your backup is here.”

  She studied him, waiting for his answer. Something didn’t jive here, but she wasn’t sure what it was. “Then why would the navy be looking for him? Are you part of Naval Intelligence?”

  “No.”

  “JAG?”

  “Not quite.”

  “Then what right do you have to be here in this apartment and how did you get in?”

  “I’ve got a key. I’m his stepbrother.” He turned away from the window, careful to keep his hands in sight.

  She’d been a detective long enough to know that people lied all the time about everything. She’d learned never to take anything at face value until she checked it out.

  She pulled out a set of handcuffs. “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”

  “The cuffs aren’t necessary.”

  “Yes, they are. I’m arresting you for assaulting a police officer. Everything else can be sorted out at the station.”

  A.J. nodded. He was smart, Sienna thought. It was prudent to acquiesce and save himself further trouble. He held out his hands.

  “ARE YOU SAYING that the guy I handcuffed and brought in here really is David Buckner’s stepbrother?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.” Captain Raoul Sandoval was a dark, heavyset man whose parents had emigrated to the U.S. from Mexico. He smiled and sat gingerly on the edge of his desk. His dark eyes were sharp with a keen intelligence. Thick blue-black hair cut short gave him a military air and his bristly mustache always twitched when he was nervous or agitated. It was twitching now.

  He held out a manila folder. “This information about Camacho was faxed from the navy. What they would release, anyway.”

  Sienna leaned back in the chair, bringing the file with her, dropping her head and closing her weary eyes.

  “He’s not Navy Intelligence, but…” Captain Sandoval began, indicating the file.

  “There’s a misnomer,” Sienna said snidely and opened the folder. She sat bolt upright. “He’s a SEAL. That explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “They’re the cowboys of the military.”

  “So?”

  “Men like Camacho don’t play by the rules. They make up their own. It goes with being a SEAL. I don’t like it when someone doesn’t follow the rules.”

  “He had every right to be there. The kid’s his brother and he had a key. We have nothing to hold him on. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t sue us for false arrest.”

  She scowled at him. “Serves him right for assaulting an officer.” She rubbed at her neck and was sure there were marks. The guy didn’t know his own strength.

  She remembered the shock of meeting those intense eyes. Even now the memory made her feel uneasy and on the edge. He was a navy hotshot. So what. She could handle him. Handle? The unbidden thought of running her palms down the strong column of his chest made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

  “Sienna, apologize to the guy and let him go.”

  “Apologize? I don’t think I did anything wrong.” Sienna sat forward and closed the file, placing it on his untidy desk.

  Raoul followed her gaze and laughed at the annoyance on her face. Sienna stared back, arching her brow. He knew she didn’t like clutter.

  “Were you aware that a clean desk is the sign of a sick mind?” he said.

  Sienna smiled. “I’d call that sour grapes, Captain.”

  He smiled and then became serious. “What’s your progress on finding that truck full of guns?”

  “I’ve sent the serial number of the M-16 we found on the perp to the FBI. I canvassed the area where the perp said he took the gun, but perps lie all the time. I couldn’t find anyone who saw anything. I was hoping to get a lead off Buckner.”

  “What do you have on him?”

  “Marine Corps Military Police, impeccable record, medals for heroism at the American Embassy in Angola during their civil war.”

  “Yet?”

  “Yet, an M-16 turns up on a perp who says he got the weapon from that area where Buckner’s car is parked. I don’t believe in coincidences. My gut instinct is that Buckner’s involved somehow.”

  “Did you contact the navy to see if any guns were reported missing?”

  “Yes, but they denied that there was any truth to that. I asked them how they could explain the M-16 and they said that it could be part of someone’s private collection.”

  “Stay on top of this case, Parker. If there is a truckload of military weapons in this city and someone’s selling them out of the back of a truck like ice-cream cones, I want that truck found and put out of commission.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “As for Lieutenant Camacho, apologize. That’s an order. Then get him out of here.”

  Sienna rubbed at her throat, remembering how fast he moved. How strong his arm had been against her throat. She wasn’t under any misconception that he would be a calm, easy-to-control type of guy. No, she wouldn’t be able to run roughshod over him. Maybe that was why she was uneasy around him.

  When she didn’t move, Raoul looked directly at her. “What’s the matter, Sienna, can’t handle him?”

  “I can handle any man, Captain, even the devil himself.” That unbidden thought came again. How would his heavily muscled chest feel beneath her seeking hands?

  Raoul laughed and slipped off the desk. “Good. Why don’t you get moving and take the handcuffs off the
guy?”

  She went to leave his office.

  “Oh, Parker, one more thing.”

  Sienna stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

  “You’re one of the most hardworking, sharp detectives in this department. No more overtime.”

  “Is that an order?” She arched her brow and gave him a cheeky grin.

  “Get out of here.”

  While she walked back to her desk, she gathered her composure. She would remain professional. He was still sitting in the chair she’d placed him in. She dismissed the uniform cop she’d left guarding him.

  A.J. looked up at her and her body reacted. She took a deep breath and grabbed his upper arm, trying not to drool over the hard thickness of his bicep. She turned him around and unlocked the cuffs, aware of every subtle shift of his big body.

  “I guess I passed the test.” He rubbed one wrist then the other.

  “Yeah, but you don’t get a gold star yet,” she said as if talking to the village idiot. “I have to apologize to you. So, sorry.”

  “I can tell that was straight from your heart,” he said.

  Sienna watched his weathered hands in fascination. “Hey, I could have thrown you in a cell overnight instead of checking out your story right away.”

  She noticed his brow arch in reaction to the sudden anger that tinged her words.

  “David’s worth a night in jail,” he said.

  She heard the emotion in his voice and her world tilted, jeopardizing her safe, ordered life. Sympathy flooded her. “I only want to question him.”

  “Why?”

  “Yesterday evening Tyrone Knight was stopped because he failed to yield to an emergency vehicle. He was found with an automatic weapon—an M-16. When I questioned him as to where he got the gun, he told me he took it from a truck parked in the warehouse district. He said there were a lot of weapons in the truck, including grenade launchers.”