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Harbored by the SEAL (HERO Force Book 3)

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by Amy Gamet




  Harbored by the SEAL

  Amy Gamet

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Matteo’s going deep. And undercover.

  1

  Sweat poured from the man's face as his mind worked to remember the configuration of the bomb. He knelt down beside it in the dark room, his hands moving with stilted motions as he tried to reconcile his feelings with the beliefs he'd held dear most of his life.

  It was he who had put this bomb here five days before, and he remembered the joy and pride that had surged through him when the timer began its countdown. It gave his life meaning. He was doing a great thing.

  He closed his eyes tightly and a sob escaped his lips. The conflict he’d been wrestling with since he first saw the woman was eating away at him, consuming his most basic beliefs like a wild conflagration.

  She'd been standing on the gangway, one hand in her husband’s. Her resemblance to his grown daughter had nearly knocked the wind out of him. While his higher sense of reasoning knew her death would support his cause, the father in him knew in that instant he couldn't blow up this ship.

  That single moment had started a monsoon of doubt that had laughed and crushed his dreams of destruction. The days since he'd seen her had only magnified his initial reaction, causing him to see the humanity in every man and woman around him on the cruise ship.

  He had to do something.

  He had to stop his comrades from blowing up the Gem of the Seas, and he had to do it without them finding out.

  Stress was like a vise on the sides of his head, twisting and turning against the pressure of bone. He forced his eyes open and before he could stop himself, cut the wire to defuse the explosive. He began to pant, his breath coming in quick gasps as he forced himself to a stand.

  There were many more bombs just like this one. If he truly wanted to save the passengers on board, he had much work to do. He could not think about that right now, could barely stomach what he had to do in this moment alone. He opened the door to the hallway and his jaw dropped. Another man grabbed him by the throat and pushed him back into the dark room.

  “Having second thoughts?” he asked.

  He opened his mouth to speak, to answer, to explain to his friend this new understanding that what they were about to do was wrong. But his voice wouldn’t work, and he slowly realized he was losing control of his body. There was blood on his friend’s collar, big drops of blood, then a stream, more than just a moment before.

  And he realized. The blood loss was his. He was a dead man.

  2

  Sometimes this shit blows me away.

  Cowboy stood in his stateroom, a million-dollar view of the Atlantic stretching out in front of him. If you’d told him thirty years ago he’d be on a ship like this — ever — he would’ve said you were wrong.

  It was just another in a long line of moments that had surprised him. Hell, the only things his childhood had prepared him for were jail and the opportunity to be a world-class loser like his father, and his father’s father before him.

  But that wasn’t what happened. Not by a long fucking shot. He’d gone in the Navy. Become a SEAL. Because if you were going to surprise yourself and actually shoot for something, you may as well shoot for the goddamned stars.

  He hadn’t expected to make it.

  Sure, he tried like hell. He’d never tried so hard for anything in his whole life. And he was good at it. Better than most.

  Who’d have fucking thunk.

  The sun moved out from the thinnest veil of clouds, shining to its full splendor as Cowboy's mind wandered over ten years of accomplishment and achievement, culminating in his arrival at HERO Force.

  The part of him that would forever be twelve years old wished his old man could see him now, but he hadn’t spoken to his father since he enlisted at eighteen.

  The old bastard could be dead by now. And if he was, he would no doubt roll over in his grave if he found out his oldest son was about to take over the whole organization.

  No. Not dead. Cowboy would know if Eddie Wilson were gone, like a weight being lifted from his back. His father was alive, but surely didn’t care what had become of his son Leo.

  He moved closer to the window and hooked his thumbs on the pockets of his jeans, taking a deep breath in. This wasn’t about his father. This was about him. His lips twitched in an unconscious grin. He was going to be in charge of HERO Force. It was everything he had ever wanted, every wish coming true.

  He remembered Jax telling him he was stepping down as their leader.

  Do a good job in the Caribbean. We’ll talk when you get back.

  Abby held up her hand to cover her eyes.

  “Put some clothes on, Leo. I’m not really your wife.”

  Cowboy smiled. He liked the agent Logan had pulled from the Academy for this assignment. She was tiny — five foot nothing — and she seemed like a goody-two-shoes until she opened her mouth.

  She dropped her hand. “Come to think of it, when I get married, she better not have chest hair.”

  “She?”

  “That’s right. You didn’t think you’d convert me with your little display of male virility, did you?”

  He looked down at his bare chest. “I just took a shower. I was hot.”

  “Well, get dressed. They’re just about to do the safety lecture at the lifeboat. The princess went to her cabin, I’m assuming to get her husband. I’ve got to get back out there, and you should too, unless you’re a really good swimmer.”

  “I’m a Navy SEAL, remember?”

  “Unless you can make it all the way to shore from the middle of the ocean, I suggest you come to the safety lecture.”

  “I’m sure some pretty little cadet from the Academy would save me.”

  She rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m a lieutenant. And I still don’t like dick.”

  He laughed as she left the cabin. If he was going to be stuck sharing adjoining rooms with a stranger for a week, the amusing little lesbian would do just fine. Before getting here, he’d had some concerns about who he would be paired with on this mission. The very last thing he needed was any kind of romantic entanglement on this assignment.

  Keep the royals safe, and he’d be given his promotion when he returned. Simple enough as long as he didn’t complicate anything, and women had always been his favorite complication. No, this trip was all about playing bodyguard and soaking up some sun. Maybe a little introspection as he crossed the finish line in his mind.

  A mechanical crackle preceded a man’s voice on the loudspeaker. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is the captain speaking. Welcome aboard the maiden voyage of the Gem of the Seas, the biggest and fastest cruise ship in the world. This is a bittersweet trip for me, my last before retirement. It is my honor and pleasure to be with you on this voyage. Now, if you would be so kind as to report to your lifeboat, it’s time for our mandatory safety lecture. Your lifeboat location is printed on the back
of your door. The sooner we finish, the sooner we depart. I’m looking forward very much to this trip.”

  Cowboy slipped on his Captain Morgan flip-flops and headed to his designated lifeboat. The safety lecture was part of the cruise ship experience, and he wasn’t going to miss a single bit of it.

  3

  Charlotte O'Malley craned her neck and shielded her eyes from the sun, the bangles on her wrist clanging when she moved. “Well, sweet mother of God.”

  The Gem of the Seas was sixteen stories tall and longer than the Eiffel Tower lying down and floating in the harbor. A smile spread across Charlotte's face. “Hot damn, this is going to be fun.”

  She marched toward the terminal, dragging her wheeled luggage behind her in the hot Miami sun. Cowboy was somewhere on that boat, and she couldn't wait to get that man between herself and a mattress. Going on a cruise was the best idea her brother had ever had, though Logan certainly hadn't intended for her to go on the same exact cruise ship Cowboy was going to be on.

  None of his fucking business anyway.

  She was a grown woman. Hell, some days she felt like she was damn near over the hill, but of course that had a lot more to do with her ex-husband than with her chronological age. Rick had sucked the life out of her and traded her in for a nineteen-year-old model when he was through.

  “Fuck Rick.” It was something she whispered under her breath several times a day.

  She mentally resolved to stop saying that for the next week.

  “Maybe I should change it to, ‘Fuck Cowboy,’ and then every time I think it, I should go and do it.” She giggled to herself.

  Man, she needed this week to play and be free and enjoy the attention of a man who made her feel good, no strings attached. She didn't want anything permanent from Leo Wilson. Hell no. Not only was she unsure permanent relationships even existed, but she was pretty damn sure she was done ever trying to find out.

  She was excited Princess Violet and Prince Hugo would be on the ship, and hoped for her own sighting of the royals. She read everything she could about the royal family in magazines and tabloids. Something about castles, princes, and princesses helped her to believe in happily ever after — no matter that her own life had tried so hard to wring that out of her.

  She wanted it to be real. Wanted to believe that true love existed and some people got to experience it, even if she was not one of the lucky few.

  Once inside the terminal, she ducked into a bathroom and eyed herself in the mirror. The humidity had done a number on her hair, but her makeup was looking pretty good. One more go-round with the lipstick and she'd be set. It wasn't very likely she’d run into Cowboy on the way to her stateroom, but she wanted to be ready just in case. She hadn’t come all this way to mess up the all-important meet-and-greet.

  She pulled down the V-neck of her shirt and yanked the underside of her bra upward, settling the underwires back into place and pushing her breasts together. A middle-aged woman at the next sink surreptitiously glanced at Charlotte's reflection in the mirror.

  “You excited to get on the boat?” Charlotte asked.

  “Yes, of course. My husband and I cruise frequently, but it never gets old.”

  “Oh yeah? I've never been. Always wanted to, but my ex-husband gets seasick. And he's an asshole, so there's that.” Charlotte smiled. “I’m meeting a friend on board. He got on in New York. How long is it going to take us to get on the boat, anyway?”

  “Do you have a VIP card?

  “No. Do I need one?”

  “It lets you cut some of the lines. Without it, you’re looking at three or four hours.”

  Charlotte’s enthusiasm sagged. Three or four more hours before she could even set foot on the boat, much less see Cowboy. “Ah, hell.”

  4

  By the time Charlotte set foot on the Gem of the Seas and got to the atrium, she was damn near exhausted. The sight of the bustling square revived her a bit, with its lush tropical plants, two stories of shops, and mirrored glass elevators rising higher than seemed possible onboard a boat. “Holy shit.”

  It was crowded, and someone jostled her from behind, but she didn't mind. She was so relieved to be out of the terminal and onto the ship itself.

  The tiniest drop of apprehension mingled with her excitement over seeing Cowboy. These last two years had been hard on her, mangling her self-esteem and twisting her confidence. Where she was once beyond comfortable with the opposite sex, she now seemed to be built up like a Wild West storefront — more façade than actual structure.

  That was why she was here.

  She could feel the chemistry between Cowboy and her, and she needed to fill herself up with that passion for a while — remember who she used to be so she could become that woman once again.

  Fuck Rick and everything she’d been through. She would slay her demons with one giant dose of desirability. One week with Leo Wilson was going to go a long way toward fixing what was wrong with her life.

  Toward fixing what was wrong with her.

  Suddenly, she didn’t want to go to her cabin first. They’d taken her luggage already and she wanted to see Cowboy. She sucked in her stomach and flagged a passing steward. “Excuse me, honey. Can you help me find my stateroom?”

  His eyes fell to her bosom and bounced back up to her eyes. “Of course. What's your room number?”

  “Well, see, that's the problem. My husband and I got separated. He's the one who knows the room number.”

  “Sure, I can help with that. What's your name?”

  “Abby Wilson.” She was taking a gamble the other agent was posing as Leo's wife, a gamble that appeared to be correct.

  The steward looked up from his cell phone. “Looks like you're in suites 8-358 and 8-360, Mrs. Wilson. Take the glass elevators to the eighth floor and turn left.”

  “Thanks so much, sweetheart.” She winked.

  Adrenaline zipped through her bloodstream as she turned toward the elevator. She’d been planning this trip for two weeks, and while she knew Cowboy was here, this adventure was about to get real. She pushed her shoulders back.

  Breathe.

  He wants you. You can see in the way he looks at you. He was damn near tripping over his own tongue at Logan's party, and here on the ship, he had no reason to play hard to get. What she was proposing was simple, really.

  A fling for one week.

  The elevator stopped on the eighth floor and she stepped out on shaky legs.

  It's just these damn heels. They're too high, and I’ve been on my feet all fucking day.

  But it wasn't the heels, and she knew it. Cowboy was down this hallway.

  What if he turns you down?

  Stop it. He isn’t going to do that.

  She walked faster, determined not to let her second thoughts slow her down. She knocked on room 8-358. Her heart was beating wildly as the seconds ticked by. She bit her lip and knocked again. Should she try the other door? The steward had given her two room numbers. The suites must be adjoining.

  Too much time had passed. She stared at the numbers on the plaque beside the door. Leo wasn’t here.

  Fuck.

  She blew out air and turned back just as Cowboy rounded the corner and entered the hallway. He was shirtless, the muscles of his chest and abs somehow obscene, his jeans hanging low on his hips. He stopped walking when he saw her, a cross between shock and confusion registering on his features before he smiled and moved again.

  “Charlotte? What’s going on?”

  She pulled her gaze back up his torso, meeting his eyes.

  So. Fucking. Hot.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah! Everything is great. Can I come in?”

  He withdrew a card from his pocket, turning away from her to unlock the door, and the smell of his skin reached her nose. The earthy blend of spicy male and pungent soap made her muscles clench down deep in her body.

  He held the door for her to enter first and she looked around the small stateroom.
“Is the woman from the Academy here?”

  “Abby. She's up on deck watching the royals.”

  “Good.” Charlotte threw her purse onto the small couch. She could lie. She could claim it was some wild coincidence, or even include some semblance of the truth. Her brother had told her about the cruise, suggesting she needed a break and she should go spend some of Rick’s money.

  Is that what you want? Do you want to pretend you didn’t deliberately seek him out?

  She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. “How are you, Leo?”

  “Honestly, I’m at a loss right now. What are you doing here?”

  This is it, Charlotte. The moment of truth.

  She licked her lips. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “What kind of proposition?”

  “The fun kind.” She walked toward him. “I’m in need of some recreation.”

  Cowboy's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “The ship has all kinds. What are you looking for?”

  “There's just one kind I’m interested in, actually.” She closed the remaining distance between them until she was standing just a foot away. “I'm looking for a fling. A no-holds-barred, no-strings-attached, out-of-this-world, completely sexual fling with a capital F for one week, and one week only.”

  She was close enough to see his blue eyes dilate, to feel the shift in the air between them. A flush crept up her chest to her neck.

  His voice was gravelly. “That’s why you’re here?”

  She nodded.

  The heat from his stare was intense, and she could feel his desire. They would be so good together. It would feel amazing to be wanted by this man, to let lust take over what love had destroyed. She needed to be a desirable woman. To have nothing but desire from a highly desirable man.

  His gaze dropped to the floor.

  All of her bravado began to crumble, leaving the steel structure of her insecurities standing tall. He was going to turn her down.

  “Charlotte, I'm sorry. I want to say yes, I really do.”

 

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