Chapter 4
4
Hazard watched every movement Leigh made. His concern for her was still pretty much up in the red zone. She was pale and still a bit shaky. He wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and sit her down, but she needed food, hydration, then she could get some rest. He hoped. He was her bodyguard, but as she cautioned, she didn’t want to be handled. Well, to hell with that. If he saw something, perceived it as a threat or a possible problem, he was going to speak up.
That had been encouraged during his tenure in the Navy, and he was appreciated for his thoughts and actions. He loved that, especially learning something new every day. His decision to serve was a solid, well-thought-out path for his career and life. He wanted to help people and make change in the world he lived in, especially when it came to strife and injustice. He was energized by being a SEAL because it was obvious that he was needed. And to be part of the Tier 1 group was the best he could be, and he thought with a grin, got him the best equipment and toys.
His mom hadn’t always appreciated that, especially when he’d been too young in her mind to have those kinds of great suggestions. But that didn’t stop him from caring about and caring for his hard-working mother. Even at a young age, without a father to ground them and take some of the burden off his mother, his main thoughts were to help her get through each day, especially after his father died when he was six. He found that focusing on facts and information rather than the disjointed and often confusing emotions helped him feel more grounded.
He stared at her profile and felt a little more poleaxed than before. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was. He truly had, or maybe he allowed her strong arm, take-charge, difficult personality to run roughshod over his senses because it was easier than getting involved with his gee-fucking-gorgeous charge. That was before all those blonde curls. What she had done to her hair changed so much about her. Those golden locks fit so much better than the mud-brown hair. He had to wonder what prompted the change.
Okay, o-fucking-kay. He admitted it to himself. During his time with her in San Diego he’d wanted more, at the very least, he wanted to get close to her. But common sense had won out, and the fact that she was West Coast, and he was East Coast and that would be a freaking nightmare to navigate with his job, one he had no intentions of giving up anytime soon, made it impossible. He was Navy all the way, a SEAL for life. His job fulfilled him mentally, physically, and where his heart would always be, even long after serving.
He wanted to look at this from a cool, logical point of view, but she messed with his equilibrium, like upstairs when he thought she was going to faint. The way she looked at him as if she wanted to take bites out of him, sent heat right to his dick. Hell, it was still semi-hard, a goddamned inconvenient organ, his dick with a mind of its own.
Well, it knew what it wanted. That was for sure. No ifs, ands, or buts. Dicks were straightforward. They wanted sex. Period. End of story. Very simple needs with very complicated results. Yeah, something he was going to curb. She was here for a job, and he was here for a job. As far as he could tell, his dick didn’t have a role in any of their goals. Getting his dick anywhere near her was off-limits.
Even with the paleness, her skin was smooth like satin, the curve of her nose so exquisitely elegant. He’d stared into eyes so blue he could get lost in them, and he had, he thought sheepishly. Not the same shade as his own, but a vibrant cornflower blue with a ring of dark blue around the iris and streaked with hints of violet. Breathtaking if he stared at her too long.
She turned to look at him through the fog of her fatigue. She had a full understanding of what his gaze meant. It was written all over her face. And he was sure as hell aware of her—it was getting slowly, and sensually carved into his goddamn heart.
“Stop,” she whispered. “It’s counterproductive. It’s madness and it’s impossible.”
He took a breath, then nodded. The elevator dinged and the doors opened on the bottom floor. She rubbed her temple, and without even thinking about it, he took her arm. She immediately shrugged him off. What else could he expect?
Stepping out, she turned right to head to the Mess Hall with him close behind her. Skull was standing just within sight of the elevator, and he raised his brows as if to say, she’s living up to form. Bones was sitting obediently beside him, his bright eyes taking in everything. The MWD was as alert as the rest of them.
Hazard sighed, nudging his chin toward her, and the silent speak was as loud as a shout. Skull’s keen, dark eyes followed her. He fell into step with her automatically, which meant he could see she was in rough shape. And if there was anything SEALs were in tune with, it was fatigue and how that affected the body and mind.
“Hey there, counselor,” Skull said. “You settling in?”
She stopped and looked at him, the sharp smile like a slash across her face. “Don’t you try to handle me, too, Petty Officer.” She glanced behind her to Hazard and frowned. “One watchdog is more than enough,” she murmured.
“How do you know I’m not just making small talk?”
“For one, you’re not that type; for two, you’re a SEAL, direct action guys; and three, I hate small talk, too.”
Bones gave out a sharp bark.
Leigh looked down at the dog and, with an acerbic quality, said, “Apparently, he agrees with me.”
Skull chuckled as she continued. His teammate went ahead of her and grabbed trays, one for each of them. Then they started through the buffet-like stations, Bones right next to him. At the beverages, she reached for a cup and before she could pour out a coffee, Hazard shook his head and dropped a green tea bag into the cup. She frowned and opened her mouth, but he said, “It will warm you up. Caffeine this late in the day will wire you, and you need to rest.”
She grabbed the hot water instead. When they moved onto the entrée section, he grabbed them each a plate with a generous portion of baked fish with sautéed greens and roasted sweet potato. “Your brain needs the glucose,” he said as she looked at him again.
When they got to the last station, he exchanged the cupcake for watermelon, then set three bottles of water on her tray. “Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. You’ll sleep better and feel better when you wake up.”
“Yep,” Skull said. “Tired cells are thirsty cells. Drink water like it’s your side-hustle.” He grabbed some lemon slices. “You can add these girly lemons for taste.”
“Imagine my surprise. I didn’t know nutrition experts came with this mission,” she said sarcastically, then with a challenge in her eyes, she grabbed the cupcake anyway.
He took it off again, blocking the treat with his body. She huffed a hard breath, and to his chagrin, pressed into him, reached behind his back, and snagged it. “Go for it again at your own peril,” she growled.
Hazard couldn’t help it. He laughed.
“The behind-the-back maneuver, Haz. She’s got you beat.”
She turned and gave Skull a narrow-eyed gaze, then shot Hazard a victorious look. “Don’t get between a girl and her sugar,” she said decisively.
“I admit defeat,” Hazard said. When they got to the end of the line, Skull accepted a metal dog dish from one of the chefs. It was filled with some watery substance.
“What is that concoction?” Leigh asked.
“It’s ground chicken, dehydrated veggies, bacon grease, multivitamins, and raw carrots for Bones.”
She looked down at the very interested Malinois. His laser gaze was focused on the dog dish. He knew he was getting fed. Her face softened, and he could only hope she would look at him like that—no, scratch that…a look like that wouldn’t help at all.
“Bones…seriously?”
Skull grinned. “Bonesaw, actually, but we shortened it.”
“Clever,” she murmured wearily.
They made their way to a table, and after sliding their trays onto the surface, they settled into seats. He dug in and sighed. There was something about special ops food. It was damn good. The Navy never skimped on any of the fighting men, but Tier 1 operators always got the cream of the crop.
Skull set down the dog dish, but Bones only looked at it then at him, waiting. Skull murmured a command, and Bones dug in.
“He’s a Malinois?”
“Yeah, we use them exclusively because of their compact size, intelligence, and agility. He’s a part of the team, but he has his own jobs. He finds things, scares the bejeezus out of and mauls bad guys, catches squirters, and he always brings us all home.”
Her breath hitched a little, and she looked down with admiration. “Can I pet him?”
“Yes, but not while he’s eating, and let me introduce you to him before you touch him. If you’re up for it, we can take him outside sometime and throw his K-O-N-G.”
“Why are you spelling it?”
“Because he’ll go crazy, and I don’t want him distracted while he’s eating.”
“So, what’s a K?—”
“Don’t say it,” Skull said quickly. Bones stopped eating and looked at her like he was telling her he was no dummy.
She laughed in delight, and the soft vibration slipped sinuously through Hazard. “I wasn’t going to say it,” she admonished. “I heard you. Anyway, what is it?”
The genuine look on her face made his heart stutter-beat. Damn, if she kept that up, he was going to go under way too easily, and way, way too fast.
His dick contradicted him right away. It said there wouldn’t be anything fast about him. He would want her slow, oh so slowly. It’s a good thing he didn’t often listen to his dick, especially when it came to these kinds of situations. His dick was a goddamned troublemaker and way too persuasive. That was for sure.
But he wasn’t going to be led around by his dick. He called the shots…mostly. Even if he was getting hard all over again. But that was his dick…being a dick.
“It’s a toy. I stuff it with various treats that he has to manipulate to get at. It’s stimulating red rubber that bounces, and pretty much looks like a small snowman. The one I have is on a tether so I can add tension when he pulls.”
“What’s his favorite treat?”
“P-e-a-n-u-t b-u-t-t-e-r.”
She laughed again as Bones pricked his ears and looked at each of them expectantly. “I don’t think you’re fooling him by spelling it out.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Hazard said. “Bones is smart as hell.”
She looked at him then for the first time since the great cupcake war, capturing his gaze in the vice grip of those arresting eyes, and searching deep, past all those barriers he thought he’d erected. For a moment, she held him suspended, all the possibilities of what it would be like to explore this beautiful creature. What kind of depth would he find there if he had the courage to delve deep enough and she allowed him in?
Then her gaze shuttered, and she swallowed hard, looking away, focusing again on Skull. He convinced himself it was for the best. Their relationship, if they even allowed it, could go absolutely nowhere.
“His coloring is beautiful,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “Is that common?”
“No. Bones is a gray sable. They’re rare.” By this time, Bones had finished his food and had wandered over to Skull to sit down next to him. His fur was lighter at the base, gradually darkening to an iron gray at the tips. He had a pronounced black mask that covered his muzzle, eyes, and ears, blending into the gray at his neck. “Malinoises are a fixed breed when it comes to their pedigree, but the Navy doesn’t much care about coat color or whether or not their masks fit the breed standard. We only care about their courage under fire, their compact size, and lightning speed, giving us a tactical advantage over the enemy.”
“Yeah, our fur missile is what we call him. He can run thirty miles an hour, and his bite packs seventy pounds of pressure. So ‘snatch and grab’ applies directly to Bones.” Hazard’s chest got a little tight. “Bones has saved us countless times, and although Skull is his primary handler, the whole team has a bond with him. He never hesitates when we jump from any airborne vehicle or even rappel down the side of a mountain. He earns everything he gets, especially his K-O-N-G.”
Skull nodded, swiping his big hand over the dog’s head. “He’s amazing, our MPC, CAD MWD. Multi-Purpose Canine, Combat Assault Dog, Military Working Dog. Whatever the acronym or title, he’s focused, fierce, and effective.”
“Everyone should be so lucky to have such a member on their team.”
“Is that what people think about you, Leigh?” Skull asked.
“What?”
“Focused, fierce, and effective?”
“Oh, I see. Damn straight. I won my cupcake,” she said decisively, then bit into it. With a soft groan that got Mr. Dick’s attention, and rolled through him like thunder, she closed her eyes, savoring the mouthful. When she opened her eyes, she turned to him. “Want a bite?”
She had no frigging idea, and his mouth went dry. As the cool air of the Mess Hall feathered over his heated skin, a stunning realization hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Never had a woman affected him on such a primitive, I-need-to-get-inside-you-now level as difficult, inconvenient, annoying, sexy, and irresistible Leigh Waterford. He’d been a fool because she’d had that effect on him from day one, and he wasn’t so sure that it wasn’t a matter of the right time and opportunity before they acted on their mutual attraction.
Unable to back down from her offer, he reached out and clasped her hand, then leaned forward and without breaking eye contact with her, he sunk his teeth into the delicious chocolate cake and white frosting.
She watched him with a longing fascination, her gaze forcefully on his mouth. There was no mistaking the mutual desire that flared to life in her striking eyes, igniting the electric chemistry between them from the sparks that were floating invisibly around them. He almost groaned when she slicked her tongue over her bottom lip, a rush of adrenaline shooting through his veins and a heady mixture of awareness and delicious anticipation curling low in his gut, giving Mr. Dick all the fuel he needed to spring to life. She wanted to kiss him, the kind of kiss that included open mouths, mating tongues, and wandering hands over warm, smooth flesh.
Her breath hitched, then her face changed. Startled was an understatement. Snatching the cake away, she snapped, “Don’t eat it all.” He wasn’t the only one on edge here.
It was like he came out of a slow-moving moment, suddenly everything rushed at him all at once. He looked over at his teammates across from them. All of them were grinning, but Iceman, Preacher, GQ, and Kodiak were giving him you’re-fucked looks.
Frustrated by the entire situation, along with his unwanted attraction to Leigh that made every damn thing more complicated, he sat back away from her, his fists clenching, instinctively in defense mode, and to keep from touching her.
“There’s something to be said for eating sweet things,” Skull said. What did he expect when he’d allowed himself to be so transparent around men who were trained to be just as perceptive as he was?
The meaning of Skull’s words went completely over Leigh’s head, or she was much too distracted by what had just happened between them to really hear his words, but Hazard knew exactly what he was insinuating, and it had to do with Leigh and oral sex. His gender, as a whole, were nothing but cavemen at heart. He gave Skull a dark look at the same time he wanted to go down on her hot little core, and Skull was more than aware that was exactly what Hazard was thinking.
From behind Skull, Kodiak gave an inelegant snort. Every one of his brothers was very aware. Again, because they were all primal doorkickers and pipehitters, cut from the same cloth. Animals. All of them…including him.
But Leigh didn’t deserve to be treated like this, and Hazard’s scowl sobered them all. They started picking up their table, getting ready to leave. Leigh grabbed their dirty dishes and piled them all on a tray, then whisked it away.
“Don’t say those things around her, Skull.”
“No? Like you can pretend, my friend?—”
“Nothing is going to happen between us,” he hissed.
"Sure, of course not," he drawled, his disbelief thick in his voice. "You have this powerful push-pull thing going on between you. There is a thin line between love and hate.”
“She drives me crazy most of the time,” Hazard said. “But I don’t dislike her.” Leigh inspired many emotions from him, but none of that even came anything close to animosity.
“Okay, wrong word choices,” Skull conceded as he rubbed his fingers along Bones's coat. “You’re trying to resist her, but you can’t resist her. She fucks with your head. At the end of the day, you still want her. All that complaining you were doing when you were detailing her was nothing but frustration.”
“You done, there, Dr. Phil?” He wasn’t going to get into a deeper discussion with Skull about his relationship with Leigh, mostly because she was fucking with his head and his libido.
Skull leaned his arms on the table and grinned. “When you’re fixated on a female, you might as well give it up. We’re direct-action guys. We’re hard-wired to go after what we want, and as I already established in my previous observation, you want her. Operation Prickly Beauty is in progress. She’s already under your skin.” Annoyed at Skull’s succinct and accurate insight, Hazard clenched his jaw.
“I’m watching her because it’s my job.” His tone was short with impatience.
Skull held up both of his hands as if to back off. “Saying it doesn’t make it so, brother.”
Figuring that was the end of their conversation, Hazard waited as Leigh started toward them. He was going to escort her to their room and make sure she got some sleep.
Suddenly, a booming, accented voice rang out in the room. “My friends! I have returned to assist you, you lucky devils.”
Hazard looked over at a man who was standing at the entrance to the Mess Hall. He was tough and sinewy, with a lean build, and looked to be in his fifties. His steel gray hair was thinning on top, but he suspected if ribbed about it, his effusive personality glossed right over it. He regarded everyone with kind, gentle eyes, his charisma was charging the air around him, his mouth in a wide smile that would have put Bozo to shame.
“Jose Molina, as I live and breathe,” Iceman said. “You’re back for more?”
“I am, my friend. It’s good to see you all.”
Jose was a drug expert who had worked with the embassy, DEA constantly, and the SEALs before, and particularly with their team. In fact, his advice had saved the whole team from death. He was knowledgeable about everything to do with drug traffickers, Colombia, and the turf wars. He reminded Hazard of an older Enrique Iglesias. They were lucky to have him.
“I found this wayward traveler in the hall. He says he’s looking for Senorita Leigh Waterford.”
Hazard scrutinized the guy immediately from head to toe. His conclusion was that he wasn’t a threat, no weapon, just a laptop case, and his Poindexter glasses. Yet beneath the dark frames, he was handsome. Nothing about the man caused any alarms.
Leigh stepped forward. “I’m Leigh Waterford.”
“Leigh,” the man said, “Nick Tremont.”
“Nick! So glad you made it okay.” She rushed past Hazard and took his offered hand. Hazard supposed women would be drawn to this guy with his dark, tousled black hair, the just-there stubble on his face, and that he was a definite rival for Leigh’s affections, but Leigh could make her own decisions about that.
“Yes, it was a long flight,” he said, holding her hand longer than was necessary. “I was hoping you would have some time to go over the presentation. I have everything detailed in my report.”
“Of course, we can do that now.”
“You might want to let up on that scowl, man because if looks could kill…”
“Shut the fuck up, Skull,” Hazard said from between gritted teeth, realizing that Nick had just hijacked his charge, and what she needed most wasn’t another meeting. It was sleep.
Hazard looked at his dive watch from the door frame of the conference room at the compound. It had been two hours since lunch and Leigh and Nick, some expert in complexity analysis here to help them take down the cartel, were still going at it hot and heavy. Couldn’t the bastard see that she was dead on her feet?
The unsettling thought of watching another guy getting up close and personal with her, even if it was mission-related, caused a burning, churning sensation deep in his gut.
Skull slipped past the door dressed in running clothes with Bones jogging beside him. He smirked at Hazard knowingly but didn’t say a thing.
Hazard bristled all over again, especially with the thoughts running through his mind, giving Skull the finger. He remained as calm as he could to get everything into perspective. She wasn’t his…anything. He was only protecting Leigh, her detail, a job for him. Other issues made any kind of affair between them, during a mission, impossible. He was a professional and wasn’t going to add to his unprofessional thoughts by laying one hand on her and succumbing to his own lust and undeniable need to lose himself in her soft, lush body. No matter how much he might wish otherwise.
Nick laughed softly, then reached out and briefly placed his hand on Leigh’s wrist. “Yes, of course, I can send you a full report of all my thoughts.”
Leigh smiled at him with that professional smile, making Hazard look at why it made him feel better. She leaned back and ran her hands through her hair, her eyes droopy with exhaustion.
“How about we go over the rest of my notes over coffee?”
That was it. It was the last straw. She didn’t need coffee to boost her into a wired mess, leaving her no good for either one of them or for the team’s mission here.
He strode forward. “Nope, this impromptu two-hour meeting that could have waited until tomorrow is over.”
He hid a grin at Hazard’s strong-man tactics, and it was clear he was a genius because he caught Hazard’s determination and seriousness in one. “Yeah, the jet lag is getting to me. I could use some rest.”
Leigh’s brows rose incredulously, completely ignoring Nick’s smart capitulation. “What?”
“O-v-e-r,” he spelled slowly.
“But we’re not done,” Leigh said, even as she sighed heavily.
“Oh, you’re done, lady.”
“No, I’m not. You’re not the boss of me, except in matters where I’m threatened.”
“I deem you’re threatened,” he said.
“By whom?” she snapped.
“By you, lady, and you’re going.”
She lifted her chin, those weary eyes flashing to life. “Make me.” Her challenge was delivered with a succinct tone that said he wouldn’t dare. She was dealing with the wrong damn man. He was a SEAL. He knew all about making people do what he told them to do.
He turned the chair, grabbed her wrist and pulled her up, ducked his shoulder like a linebacker and pulled her over it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered, immediately squirming. He clamped his arm around her legs, and she beat on his back with her tiny fists.
“Making you.” He turned away from Nick’s surprised face and open mouth, marching out of the room. When he got to the elevator, Iceman was walking down the hall, looking at a sheaf of papers in his hands.
“Put me down, you…you…neanderthal. Right now!”
Her strident voice had Iceman stopping and focusing on them. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“I made a bodyguard decision that she needs rest because she’s almost dead on her feet, and she ignored all my dirty looks in the conference room, so I took direct action.”
“Okay,” Iceman said, not batting an eyelash as the elevator dinged. “Carry on.”
Leigh screeched and Hazard went inside. He was going to catch hell for this, but too damn bad.