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Pleasing Her SEAL(31)

By:Anne Marsh






13

HURRY. HURRY. HURRY.

No. Turn the emotions off, let the training take over. Mason couldn't  afford to miss anything, and rushing could be fatal. Never mind that the  moment the Black Hawk touched down on the naval aircraft carrier  cruising Belizean waters, he was itching to move. Swimming to shore  seemed like the better option, but he'd wait for the Zodiac like a good  little SEAL.

"Gave Ashley a heads-up." Gray prowled toward the railing that Mason  was haunting. "She's armed." A statement of fact. "If Santiago did come  back here and somehow beat us, Ashley's got your girl's back."

There was no point in pretending protecting Maddie wasn't personal, so Mason nodded sharply. "I hear you."

"Since there's a credible threat, we'll take her to a military base  until we've found Santiago. We've got leads on the man. Cell phone and  email chatter. That kind of stuff."

"Santiago's mine." He'd enjoy taking the drug trafficker apart piece by  piece. Those photos of Maddie had been creepy as hell, and the man  needed to go down, fast and hard. No way Mason allowed the other man to  get anywhere near Maddie.

Gray gave him a hard look. "We've got other orders. We pack up here; we ship out. Do not go vigilante on me."

"Copy that," he agreed, but they both knew he'd do whatever it took to  keep Maddie safe. Gray would have felt the same way if it had been his  woman in danger. No one hurt Laney on Gray's watch.

Ten minutes later, they were in the Zodiac and gunning for Fantasy  Island. As the sailor brought them in, focusing with laser-like  precision on the small break in the reef, Mason kept his own eyes  trained on the shore. If Santiago had made it here first, he could be  laid up in the jungle, waiting to open fire, or he could be making his  way to Maddie's place. The island seemed as serene as ever, although a  boatload of armed SEALs wasn't going to help the look any. Mason had to  hope no one was watching, or they'd attribute an inflatable full of  armed men to the Belizean navy, but waiting until dark wasn't an option.

As soon as the Zodiac hit the beach, he vaulted over the side, boots  hitting the water hard. He'd get under cover. Fan out and head straight  for Maddie. Gray's hand on his arm pulled him to a halt. Not good.

"Get Maddie and bring her back down to the beach. We roll in an hour."

"On it." There must have been something in his eyes-something he didn't  want to examine too closely himself-because Gray nodded and let him go.  Mason didn't waste time, either, heading straight for Maddie's villa at  a dead run. Ashley would be undercover, eyes on Maddie, so Mason went  around back. If Santiago showed up, she'd trigger the alarm.

Breaking in through the bathroom was too easy. The villa had one of  those exotic outdoor bathrooms, and it took mere seconds to hoist  himself over the wall and drop down into her shower. The damned door  didn't even lock-he just eased it to the side and he was in.

The bathroom looked as if it had been hit by a Category Three storm.  Lingerie, dresses, flip-flops and a million teeny bottles of stuff were  scattered everywhere. He paused. Listened. Clear. Cracking the door, he  swept the room visually.

Maddie was asleep on the bed. Probably not on purpose, since she still  had her laptop with its hot pink cover parked on her lap. Her head had  fallen back, red hair fanning out over her pillow, a little whuff that  was an almost snore escaping her. The sound would have been cute as hell  if he hadn't been scanning the room for possible intruders.

Holding the gun down at his side, he moved swiftly to the bed. Sleeping  Beauty needed to wake up and get with the let's-get-rescued program.  Gently but firmly he covered her mouth with his hand, leaning down to  whisper against her ear.

"Wake up, sweetheart."

* * *

THE HAND OVER her mouth woke Maddie up, the unexpected contact followed  by the shock of a body pressed against her startling her when she'd  gone to bed alone. She lived through a moment of sickening,  adrenaline-laced panic before she realized who exactly was holding her.

"It's Mason," he growled unnecessarily. "No noise, okay? Nod your head for me if you understand."                       
       
           


       

Something wasn't right. That was what she understood, but she nodded,  because, hello? The whole hand-over-the-mouth thing wasn't her kind of  kink. And if it wasn't kink, she had a bigger problem. Besides, while it  was clearly Mason looming over her, Mason who'd come uninvited into her  room, he wasn't her Mason. He looked different, harder, and it wasn't  just the black and green paint streaking his face.

"Is this some kind of game?" She tossed her laptop to the side, rolling  instinctively away from him. "Because I think we already said  everything we needed to say."

"We have to go," he whispered, not looking at her. Instead, he scanned  the corners of her villa as if he expected something. "We need to get  you off the island."

"I believe I said, ‘Let's have a future together!' And you said, ‘Over  my dead body!' Or something way too close to that. You may have dressed  it up with the ‘it's not you, it's me' and the ‘I'm not looking for a  relationship right now' speeches, but that's what I heard."

"Look at me," he demanded, his harsh gaze swinging back to her face.

Oh, she was looking, all right-and nothing added up. This wasn't  paintball attire, and something was seriously wrong. A noise outside the  villa interrupted her crazy thoughts. She wasn't sure what it  was-housekeeping cart, falling coconut, demented parrot-but Mason pulled  some ninja stealth move, rolling her off the bed and beneath him. His  hand came back over her mouth, his body tensing as he raised his weapon  at her door. His weapon. Holy shit. He had a gun. He braced his free  hand above her head, his fingers curled around the stock, where she  could see dirt and a smear of something red. Blood?

"Mason-" She jumped, suddenly afraid, her lungs closing up. Who was he?

"Shh," he whispered roughly against her hair. "Breathe for me. Let's see if we've got company."

She hadn't thought her heart could beat triple time, unless she was in  heart-attack territory, but the sensation of his large,  familiar-and-yet-not body pressing her down into the floor had her all  but hyperventilating.

Dark brown eyes stared intently into hers. "Can you stay put for me? Do you need your inhaler?"

He had a gun. She'd agree to anything. When she nodded, he rolled off  her and headed for the front of the villa. That worked for her. She  lunged for the bedside phone. He froze, head swinging toward her, but  the business end of the gun didn't budge from her front door.

"Don't," he warned, as if he was used to giving orders and being  obeyed. Too bad for him that requests from madmen didn't count. Lifting  the receiver off the base, she punched the button for security. Nothing.  Nada. Not a dial tone, not a friendly voice.

He strode toward her, his face hard and closed off as he took in her  panic and her finger banging away on the button for security. "Grab your  purse. Your passport. Anything critical that you need that fits in a  small bag."

Hell. No.

"Who are you?" she asked in a strangled voice. Did the bathroom door  have a lock? Could she beat him there? "And don't give me the line about  the chef again. If you're a chef, you're bat-shit crazy."

"I'm a US Navy SEAL," he growled. "Cut me some slack here. I can't go  into details, but I'm here on an op and there's a credible threat  against you. We need to move you somewhere safe."

"If you're going to sell me a bridge next, I'm not buying."

Naturally, he advanced. Back down wasn't part of Mason Whoever-He-Was's  vocabulary, any more than concede was in hers. She flung up a hand.

"Stop right there," she ordered.

He laughed. A harsh, guttural, grunting sound, but the bastard laughed at her.

* * *

"MADDIE-"

She snarled at him and he actually backed up a step. "Yesterday I  apparently proposed marriage to a total stranger. I'd like to recover  from my humiliation alone, please."

"I'm not the guy for you, and we don't have time for this."                       
       
           


       

She met his gaze head-on. That was his Maddie. Leap first, look later  and live large. "Believe me, we're in complete agreement there."

"I had a job to do," he stressed. "A covert job. I'm under orders not to tell anyone why I'm here."

"Uh-huh." She gestured toward him. "Let's say I agree to believe you  about the whole secret-SEAL-mission thing, since your show-and-tell  exhibit is fairly convincing. Does that mean you were under orders to  sleep with me, too? As part of the whole ‘undercover' deal?"