Chapter 3
3
She delivered what she had to say, then pulled the door open with more force than was necessary. Why wasn’t she surprised this guy didn’t get her or support her? She was used to that her whole life, and she would overcome it like she had in her past. But a small part of her acknowledged that it hurt more coming from a man she respected and admired. When he was guarding her in San Diego, she’d developed a crush she didn’t want to deal with, so all of that emotion was wrapped around all the crap from her past she’d had to endure.
She was sure if he wanted to, he could have held it closed with one hand while she struggled. But he let her have the last words or so she thought.
He grabbed her arm gently but firmly, before she could go into the hall. His intense blue eyes bored into her, searing her with his serious look. “With that all said, you now know my opinion on you being here. I can tell you that no one… no one is getting through me. If they do, I’ll be out of the fight and the only time a SEAL is out of the fight is if he’s not breathing.” The air thrummed with the power of his presence, the echo of it matching the rhythm of Leigh’s heart. Sensation shivered over her skin, and deep inside like an epicenter of an earthquake, puckering her nipples against her sheer bra, generating a mixture of excitement and fear in the pit of her belly. The heat and the male scent of him overwhelmed her thoughts, arousing her body that had been dormant for some time. The man’s ability to turn her on, even during a confrontation, was nothing short of astounding. She just didn’t get rattled. Ever.
Then again, Hazard was so damn sexy, and had been, against her will, part of her erotic fantasies since she’d met him. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she wanted his respect as well.
Maybe it was the fatigue, because Leigh never gave anything away, not in the courtroom, not in her private life, not for any reason. That would open up vulnerabilities, weaknesses, ways for anyone who was trying to win against her to get the upper hand. Again, something she could never allow. She couldn’t explain why those statements affected her so profoundly. But they did. He did.
There was something about the sound of his voice, something about that quiet, husky tone, that instantly eased the burst of anxiety his previous words had aroused. Meeting his gaze, Leigh’s pulse stumbled. A different kind of nervousness made her voice waver. “Thank you,” she said simply, and she meant it.
It was hard enough that he was so damned attractive from that gorgeous head of burnished gold hair to the stubble coating his cheeks and jaw to those silvery blue eyes, his nose well-formed above his bowed upper lip, and tantalizing full bottom lip. But he was also big, wide-shouldered, one of those big capable hands curled around her arm. She was sure they were adept at both wielding a weapon and seducing a woman. Six feet of hard, muscular, seasoned man.
He wore a pair of jeans that fit so deliciously to his lower body, cupping his groin and snugging against his very nice ass. His collared shirt was a caramel color that only made his dark skin look more tanned, framing his burnished looks, the cuffs rolled up to reveal his taut forearms. He carried a brown jacket in one of the hands clamped to her luggage handle, and on his feet were a pair of dark brown laced boots.
He released her with a nod and motioned her to precede him. For the first time in her life, she felt…bolstered, protected…safe. Then she pushed those feelings aside. She couldn’t afford to feel any of that. It was madness and would lead her onto shaky ground in her own mind and heart. A long time ago, she’d put all her dream eggs in one basket, and it had all gone to hell in the absolute worst way, dashing all of her expectations for a future she’d wanted more than anything. She would never do that again.
The military had let her down once. She wasn’t going to fall into that trap again.
Everything she’d ever heard about Navy SEALs seemed to be an exaggeration, something the military hyped, or the media had overblown. She wasn’t sure. Could a man be that…tough, smart, competent? Could she really depend on him?
She turned to him. “I can carry my own cases,” she said.
“I’ve got them,” he said stoically.
For some reason, Leigh wanted to simply scream at him to stop being…whatever he was being. She was so damned tired, up half the night pacing about her mom, and the email she’d received from David. She felt she could let her guard down with him, and that scared the hell out of her. The sensation was almost too much for her to handle.
She squared her shoulders, her chin lifting. “Give me one of them.”
“You can’t help being a pain in the ass,” he growled and handed her the smaller bag.
Struggling against overwhelming fatigue, she grabbed the handle and dragged it behind her, wincing as it bounced down the stairs.
When they got to the street, there were two SUVs filled with his teammates: Remington “GQ” Nash was driving, Anna Graham whom she’d just met was their CIA intelligence officer, sandwiched in the backseat between Boyce “Preacher” Carmichael, and Jayesh “Kodiak” Lyta, their corpsman. Their leader, Master Chief Christopher “Iceman” Snow, was in the passenger seat, the man with the pale eyes made her almost believe in the legendary status of the teams. He was downright scary. These people all gave her good vibes about their chances of getting the man they were after.
Hazard opened the back of the less full SUV and hefted her bag inside. The sky had been overcast when she’d entered the embassy, but now it was quite dark and angry-looking. When he reached for hers, she ignored him and did it herself. He scoffed softly and shook his head.
It started to drizzle, and when they got to the passenger door, they both reached for it, but he backed away with his hands up. She opened her own door. Yet there was a part of her that was affected by his gentlemanly conduct. She slipped into the middle of the back seat, and Hazard crowded into the remaining space.
Carter “Boomer” Finley was driving with Kelly “Breakneck” Gatlin in the front passenger seat. She glanced at the man on the other side of her…Cooper “Skull” Sullivan.
He was tall, lean, like a boxer. His features were arresting, Latin, Spanish, in fact, with a kind of Aztecan, conquistador look about him. Those fierce adventurers with the kind of crazy courage associated with the SEALs. His black hair was parted in the middle, cut to temple length, part of it rakishly falling against his temple and the other side swept back off his forehead, the back thick against the nape of his neck. His jaw was strong, and he was clean-shaven except for a heavy five o’clock shadow. The long column of his neck was powerfully elegant. He had a short Roman nose and interesting flat lips with just a tiny bow on the top one, the bottom full and compelling. He was dressed all in black from cargo pants and military-issue boots to the long-sleeved pullover with a V at the neck, and the black leather jacket.
People, normal people, wouldn’t be comfortable around this man, she realized. He would be able to make them squirm with one look of those broody, dark leveling stares that could make any man think twice. No one with a shred of intelligence would ever mess with this man—any of these men.
Their size was intimidating enough, but it was what she’d glimpsed in their expressions and the way they’d held themselves in that meeting. Ready, focused, and more than willing for confrontation without hesitation, like locked-and-loaded weapons. Uncle Sam’s hair trigger?
He nodded his head at her, his dark, seemingly black eyes glittering with an almost otherworldly power. “Ma’am,” he said. “Buckle up.” She fumbled with the seatbelt, her hands unsteady from her fatigue. Suddenly, Hazard leaned over her.
She was engulfed in the scent and feel of him, the muscles flexing in his thigh and torso as he leaned into her to reach the belt, then pulled it across her body. Leigh didn’t move a muscle, her heart pounding at his closeness.
Awareness churned through her, making her heart jump and start, and she was just so fascinated with his hand again, making her wonder, not for the first time, what it would be like to be touched by him. A disabling weakness pumped through her, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes from drifting shut as need—need so strong, so overwhelming, that she felt like she was drowning in it—coursed through her. More than her next breath, she wanted to reach out and smooth her hand across the back of his, to feel the texture of his skin, to experience his strength and his warmth, especially his warmth. She must have given him a clue, or he was in tune with all the sexual energy she was radiating because he lifted his head as he clipped the seatbelt in place. There was something disconcerting about the way he scrutinized her, as if he was peeling away layer upon layer, looking for the person within.
His expression suddenly grew shuttered, and he jerked his gaze away from hers. “We’re ready to go, Boomer.” The driver pulled away from the curb and the moment was over.
As the SUV progressed through the streets, Leigh dozed to the cadence of the windshield wipers and the steady downpour against the roof, overcome by a combination of nerves, chutzpah, and the kind of exhaustion that comes from going days without enough sleep. She shivered from the cool air, even though she was sandwiched between two large, warm men. Too drained to even turn her head or open her eyes, she huddled in her jacket. She had been on the move ever since the deaths of the OCDETF members.
Something warm and heavy was draped over her upper body, smelling so darn good, it roused her. It was Hazard’s brown suede jacket. “That will keep you warm until we get to our barracks,” he said.
Struggling with exhaustion, she opened her eyes. The weight felt good. His kindness felt good. “Thank you,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’ll get cold.”
“No,” he answered, his voice gruff. “I won’t get cold.” The sound of his deep, husky voice went through her, and she shivered, but it had nothing to do with the temperature.
Cocooned in the semi-darkness of the vehicle from the overcast skies, and warmed by Hazard's coat, Leigh snuggled down, her weariness fading into a kind of drifting lethargy. She would get back to work once she got to the barracks. It was her understanding the Colombian government had put them up in a former high school building not far from the embassy. It had a gate and fencing, more of a compound that added to their security. Marines had been dispatched to guard duty rather than rely on locals.
Hazard shook her gently, and she came fully awake, still feeling awful, headachy, and starving. She looked out the window to see them approaching a four-story building, surrounded by high concrete walls, and a fortified gate. Two Marines opened the black full metal gate, closing it behind the two vehicles.
They filed out of the SUVs, and before she could even protest, Hazard and Skull grabbed up her cases. She was silently relieved. She had no idea if this building had an elevator.
The first floor had two guards, one in a security room off to the right and one at the front double glass doors, along with the cafeteria, or Mess Hall in military speak. The aroma of food wafted out and her stomach grumbled.
Hazard glanced at her and said, “We can get some grub as soon as we get settled in.”
To her relief and gratitude, there was an elevator. She, Hazard, Skull, and her luggage piled inside while the other guys headed toward the food. Again, sandwiched between the two men was disconcerting, and felt so totally different. Oh, there were the same dangerous vibes from them, but even at five feet seven inches, she felt dwarfed by their towering heights and the way those broad shoulders filled the space.
Everything about them was disturbingly masculine.
But Hazard’s presence was particularly distracting. His shoulder was braced against the side of the elevator, those faded jeans fitting him like a glove. As he shifted his weight slightly, his altered position accentuated the strong contours of his jaw and the muscled thickness of his neck, and Leigh was suddenly keenly aware of his powerful build.
In the bright light of the elevator, his hair glinted with different highlights of blond and gold, the shades contrasting sharply with his tan and the light fabric of his shirt. He was unsettling so close, making her even more conscious of him as a man.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and they piled off. It looked like the classrooms had been altered into spacious bedrooms with a shared bathroom in the middle of the two. He stopped at a closed door, turning the knob and pushing it open with his shoulder.
Inside she found two big white rooms with dark varnished woodwork and floors, and gabled ceilings. There were oatmeal-colored curtains on the windows along with blinds. The rooms were furnished with a queen bed, footlocker, and an old, scarred walnut dresser with brass-and-glass handles and an equally old oak wardrobe. The bathroom in the center was modern but did have a wonderful old-fashioned claw-footed tub with a generous shower on the side of the wall, along with a tall wall-to-ceiling narrow linen closet.
“There is a laundry room on the first floor in the back. We do our own wash.”
Skull dropped the case near the bed, then silently left the room, closing the door behind him.
“You will be in here, and I will be in the bedroom over.”
“You’re staying in the suite with me?” she asked, her voice coming out husky and surprised.
“Of course. I’m your bodyguard, Leigh. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
For a breathless moment, they stood staring at each other, then Hazard broke the spell. Setting her case down, he cleared his throat. “I’ll move my stuff up here after we eat. I’m sure you’ll want to get some shuteye while you can. You look dead on your feet.”
“What is the layout of the building?”
“As you know the first floor is pretty much all service-oriented, like food, laundry, armory, and cubicles, each wired with Wi-Fi access and a work desk. The second floor is all taken up by the Marines. The third floor has more bedrooms and that is where the conference room is located. The fourth floor is all bedrooms.”
“I see.” He was going to be up close and personal…in her space. She knew that but knowing it and having it become a reality were two different things. They would be effectively living together. But that made sense. He was responsible for keeping her safe. He couldn’t do that from a distance.
“This place is also complete with an indoor track, weight room, and large eight-lane pool housed behind us.”
“That’s nice. I love running, and swimming.”
He nodded. “Did you want to freshen up or change?” There was a strange tightness in her chest as she watched him place her bag on her bed for easy access. She studied his face for some clue as to what was going through his mind. His full mouth was pulled into an unyielding line, and there was an unusual tenseness about him that she found particularly distressing. He seemed so isolated, and maybe that’s what he wanted.
She found that her voice was treacherously unsteady when she responded, “Yes, please. She had to wonder if he was thinking about how much he wished she was back in San Diego, thousands of miles away from here. Probably.
“I’ll wait outside.”
Thank God , she thought as she unzipped her case, the door closing softly. She pulled out a warm black-and-white striped sweater, black leggings, socks, and a long cardigan. She hefted the other case on the bed and removed a pair of black low-heeled boots.
Damn but that bed looked enticing. Now that she was here, having won over her argument with David, she felt a bit more relaxed, but still on edge, and she refused to associate that keen, unsettled feeling with Hazard.
The bathroom was another white room with the same woodwork, but the floor was tiled instead of wood. As she turned on the water to warm it, distributing her toiletries and makeup into the empty medicine cabinet and on the sink, she worked at keeping her wayward thoughts at bay. She grabbed towels and set them on the commode.
She sighed when she stripped off the clothes she’d been in for almost twenty-four hours, then stepped into the steamy enclosure.
Something about the hot water loosened her up, the liquid pressure wonderful, pounding against her nipples even as they hardened from the stimulation. It was as if her body had been slapped awake after a long-term abstinence, and there was no lying to herself. It was all because of Hazard. He had been the catalyst to arouse this dormant sexual need she’d repressed for so long to focus on her career.
She groaned softly as she thought about his profile in the elevator, those muscled forearms, those tight jeans outlining his powerful hips and sex. Damn, the whole gorgeous package was hard to ignore.
Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes, the heavy, fluttery sensation in her chest compressing her lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe. The thought of him overwhelmed her senses and clogged her mind, a sudden thought of his hot and hungry mouth against hers, the feel of him moving hard and fast inside of her with deep, penetrating thrusts. Her whole body responding to the sensual thoughts, Leigh turned and weakly rested her forehead against the tile, the water cascading down her back. She fantasized about him walking in right now, backing her against the tile with that big body roped with muscle, and thrusting inside her to ease the heavy thickness that pulsated in her nipples and her sex, heated her blood, and shivered over her bare skin.
Unable to take it anymore, she washed quickly, moaning as the washcloth rubbed over the hard nubs of her breasts, and between her legs, then got out, trying to shut down everything.
An emptiness filtered through her, and she avoided her gaze in the mirror, upsetting her more than she wanted as she dried her hair, leaving it long and loose, and applied fresh makeup with a light touch. After she was dressed and feeling much warmer, she pulled open the door to the hall where Hazard waited.
He turned at the sound of the door, and she realized he was armed, a brown holster tucked into the waistband of his jeans, the black waffle grip of a pistol showing, and sending alarm through her.
Of course he’d been armed in San Diego. That wasn’t new, but it had been concealed in a shoulder holster. There was something almost gunslinger about him now, something wild, wild west.
She shivered and he took a sharp breath when he saw her, his eyes roaming over her slowly. “You clean up nice, counselor.” His voice was now a rough husk as he turned toward her, his right-hand fisting, his silvery blue eyes darkening into a hot, smoldering look that spoke volumes.
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Thank you,” she whispered, barely unable to form words, which both shocked her and pissed her off. How was this happening to her? She wasn’t a sexual person, but Hazard did something to her that she couldn’t seem to stop.
Her stomach, which had been in an uproar anyway, shot directly to her boots, the rush leaving an unnerving hollow in her belly. Determined to brazen it out, she forced herself to meet his gaze again, aware that her pulse was going a mile a minute. She swayed…or was she swooning? No. Leigh Waterford, hard-as-nails attorney for the United States didn’t do that.
Ever.
She was fatigued, famished, and fucked up. That had to be it.
He was suddenly there, supporting her as she wavered, working at trying to get her balance back, her breath coming in short, anxious pants.
Her arms came up as she clutched at his hard biceps, then the warm skin of his forearms. As soon as she touched him, his muscles flexed beneath her palms, and his breathing hitched. She felt the heat of him through his shirt, along with the way his heartbeat accelerated.
He pressed his body against hers, the sexual tension rising between them. She closed her eyes and leaned more fully into his hard, lean body, the memories of her arousal in the shower washing over her.
She grasped his shoulders before her legs gave out on her and dropped her head closer to his, the electric scape of his stubble on her soft skin an erotic sensation. She shivered again with a raw ache, his fingers tangling through her hair at the back of her neck, gently tugging her head back so their gazes met once more, and their lips were inches apart. There was something strangely exciting about being at this man’s mercy. She wanted him with a fierce, powerful kind of need she’d never experienced before. His face gave little away, but his eyes, for just a moment, simmered with lust.
Then he abruptly pushed her head down. “Breathe slowly,” he whispered like he was choking. “Evenly. Take your time. You need food and sleep, lady.”
She winced, a rush of embarrassment climbing up her face. She didn’t know how this had happened. She didn’t normally react to men that way. But what made it worse was that she had the unnerving feeling that he’d known exactly what had been going through her mind.
She took his advice, and followed through, calming herself until she wasn’t calm anymore. She experienced another flush of embarrassment, pushed his hands away, and backed up. “Stop touching me. I’m fine now,” she snapped, raking her hair back from her face. She was acting this way because she was exhausted. Or maybe because he’d made her feel safe. Or maybe, some wayward little voice said sarcastically that she was lying to herself.
She had to get a grip. She needed to do her job, and she couldn’t afford to fail or get sidetracked. Justice was hanging in the balance. The whole Southern District of San Diego and her boss were depending on her. She’d been sworn in and had repeated an oath. Sobered by that thought she said, “Let’s go eat.”
“Leigh,” he said, and she shook her head.
“You can guard me, Hazard. But don’t handle me.” The thought almost made her laugh, because it was a word she would never associate with her personality. Being meek and mild wasn’t part of her nature. If she wanted something, she was upfront about it. But this was skirting the danger zone, this attraction to him. Backing off seemed like prudent behavior.