HOT SEAL Lover (HOT SEAL Team - Book 2) (15 page)

C
hristina held
on to that thought for hours.
You haven’t seen the last of Cage.

She held on to it as the assault boat that picked her and the others up sped across the water and the coastline of Qu’rim receded. She held on to it as they approached a ship that was so huge it made her heart hammer, and as that tiny assault boat drew up alongside and a door opened in the hull.

She and the others were helped onto a ramp and ushered inside the gray behemoth floating in the Persian Gulf. The last glimpse she had of a SEAL was Viking’s face as he shot her a quick grin before the door shut.

She held on to the thought of seeing Remy while she was shown to a briefing room, and then while she boarded a helicopter and watched the deck of the carrier—stacked with airplanes and the men tending to them—get smaller and smaller as the copter winged its way toward shore again.

Only this time they were taken to a stable ally country where there was a US base. They boarded a military plane and took off again. A few hours later, they were in Germany and being taken by hospital bus up the winding hill to the American military hospital that perched high above the city of Landstuhl.

Christina held on to the thought of Remy while she was checked for injuries, while she showered and slipped into the hospital scrubs they’d provided her, and while she ate her first meal that didn’t come out of a plastic pouch in days.

She plugged her phone in to charge, and then she fell asleep. When she woke, it was dark. Penny was in the room with her, and Christina could hear the other woman whimpering in her sleep.

She checked her phone, found it fully charged, and hesitated only a moment before turning it on. Naturally there were messages from her brother. And several from Ben, which was a surprise since she’d blocked him. He must have gotten a new phone number. She blocked that one too, and she erased the messages without listening to any but the first. It was typical Ben—self-involved, wheedling, and even a bit desperate, which wasn’t typical at all.

Most importantly, however, there was nothing from Remy, and that made her heart sink. She couldn’t get over the thought of him on that dock, his hands on her shoulders, telling her he couldn’t go with her right now, that she had to go alone and he’d see her later.

Twenty-four hours ago she’d lain beneath him in a dusty safe house and felt the power of his body moving inside hers. She wanted that again, and soon. But what if she never got it? What if something had happened to him?

A cold knot of fear congealed in her belly. It didn’t bear thinking about. She
couldn’t
think about it. To lose Remy now… Oh God.

Trembling, she scrolled to her contacts and hit the button to dial Matt before she could change her mind. He answered on the first ring.

“Chrissy?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Hi, Mattie.”

“Jesus Christ.” He was silent for a long moment, and her heart skipped a beat. “It’s good to hear your voice,
ma petite
.”

“Yours too.”

“How you holding up?”

She swallowed. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t fine, not really. Her heart hurt. There was a hole in it that didn’t want to close.

“I got the word hours ago that you’d been picked up. But I know it’s not easy out there, honey. I know you’ve seen things…” He cleared his throat. “You can talk to me, Chris. If you need to.”

She felt the corners of her mouth turning up. Yeah, it hadn’t been a picnic out there, and she would never forget the horror of that bomb exploding so near—but the love she heard in his voice warmed her. Thank God for big brothers.

A little piece of her ached hard at the thought of Remy’s twin sister and what had happened to her. Poor Remy.

“I know that,” she said, grateful for him. She couldn’t talk about it right now, but one day she would. And she knew he’d be there for her if she needed him. “But Mattie, the SEALs… they didn’t all board the boat with us. Do you know—?”

She couldn’t finish the question. A knot clogged her throat.

“Can’t talk about operations, Chrissy.”

“I don’t want to know about operations… I just want to know if, um, everyone made it out okay.”

“I’ve not heard differently. Believe me, I would have if we lost someone. I’d say they’re all alive.”

Her heart pounded as she latched on to that single ray of hope. “That’s good. They’re nice guys. I wouldn’t want any of them to get hurt because… because of me,” she finished softly.

“Nobody’s getting hurt because of you, sweetie. The job is dangerous, yes, but it’s not because of you. It’s because there are bad people in this world and they do bad things.”

The lump in her throat ached and her eyes stung. “I’m mad at you, by the way.”

He snorted. “Me? What’d I do?”

“This thing the SEALs did—it’s what you do too. You risk your life, Mattie. And you never told me.”

His voice was soft when he spoke. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“It’s dangerous.” She thought of the mercenaries on horseback, the bombing of the convoy, the way Baq had burned in the night.

“It is. But it’s what I do. What we all do. Someone has to, Chrissy. Why not me?”

She had a million answers for him, but she knew that not one of them would persuade him. Or maybe one would. “Christian and Alex need you.”

“They need a safe and secure world even more, don’t you think?” He sighed, and she could picture him running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Evie and I will meet you at the airport tomorrow, okay? We’ll talk more then.”

“Okay… But Mattie, if you hear anything different about the SEALs, you’ll let me know, right?”

She could almost hear the gears grinding in his head. “If it’s important to you. Care to tell me what this is really about?”

“Nothing. I just need to know.”

She thought he swore softly, but she wasn’t sure. “I know you, Christina Caroline Girard—and I know when you’re hiding something. But yeah, I’ll let you know. Now get some rest before tomorrow comes.”

* * *

E
vie had just put
the twins down and headed to the kitchen to whip up a new cake recipe when Matt walked in, a puzzled frown on his face.

It made her heart skip a beat. “Everything okay?”

His piercing gaze met hers. He was so handsome he made her heart flip in her chest and her stomach squeeze tight. How she could love this one man her whole life was a mystery in a way, but she honestly had. Since she was about eleven years old, she’d known he was her everything. It had taken him far too long to realize she was his too, but he finally had.

“Christina just called. She’s fine.”

“Yes, you mentioned she was fine earlier when you got the report from Mendez. But what’s putting that frown on your face, Matt? Does she sound upset? Was Mendez unaware of something that happened?”

He shook his head. “No, she sounds all right—but she’s worried about the SEALs who rescued her. If I had to guess, I’d say one of them in particular.”

Butterflies swirled in Evie’s stomach. She didn’t keep things from Matt, especially if they were important, but some things were still private. Especially when it was something personal that Christina had told her. Matt did not need to know everything his sister did.

“And if it is?” Evie asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Matt’s gaze met hers. And then his brow knitted. “You know something, don’t you?”

Evie flipped her stand mixer upright and started to measure flour. “I might.”

He came over and turned her to face him, tipping her chin up with a finger. His eyes were a mixture of thunderous and curious—and hot. Mmmm.

“Evie.”

He said it sternly, and her insides melted just a little. Not in a bad way but in an oh-my-God-that-sexy-voice-of-his way.

“It’s not my place to tell you these things about your sister, Matt. But yes, there’s one in particular. Though she hasn’t actually been seeing him lately so I don’t know what’s going on. Not really.”

He trapped her with an arm on either side of her body, wedging her against the counter. She tipped her head up and stared at him. His eyes focused on her mouth, his jaw going slack for a second.

“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”

“Not planning on it, no. Unless you mean to torture it out of me?”

His gaze sharpened. “Torture you how?”

She put her hands on his chest. “Oh, you know.” Her fingers walked up his pecs and over his shoulders. “In the best way possible.”

His hands went to her waist, pulled her against a burgeoning erection.

“I’ve got just the thing for you, baby.”

“Yes, you definitely do,” she practically purred.

A look of worry flashed through his eyes again, and she felt a little bad for not telling him about Remy Marchand and Christina.

“Is it serious?” he asked. “This thing with the SEAL?”

“I don’t think so. I think it was a fling, quite honestly. But if she’s worried about him now, well, who knows?”

“Not sure I trust any of those bastards. Not after what she went through with Ben.”

“It’s not up to us, honey. It’s up to her.”

“Yeah, I know. But she deserves the best. I don’t want her tangled up with someone who’s going to hurt her in the end.”

Evie put her hand on his cheek. “Again, it’s not up to us, Matt. Christina is a big girl, and she can make her own decisions.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” He didn’t sound pissed, which was good.

“If I had a brother, and he confided something personal about his life, something which did not affect me at all, would you feel compelled to tell me, especially if he asked you not to?”

“I would tell you if you asked me directly—but no, otherwise I probably wouldn’t.”

She studied him. “You would, wouldn’t you?” She sighed. “Are you asking me who it is?”

“Yes, I’m asking. But if you don’t want to tell me, if it goes against the sister code or something, don’t.”

“The sister code?”

He shrugged. “You know, like the bro code. Bros before hoes, baby.”

Evie snorted. “Did you really just say that? Am I a
ho
?”

He pushed his hips into hers. “I hope so… but only with me.”

She laughed. “You crack me up sometimes. Are you sure you want to know? Because so far as I know, she’s not seeing him anymore.”

“I still want to know.”

“It’s Remy.”

His jaw tightened for a second. “Remy. He’s a good guy. Nothing against him. Except, shit, we’ve been on missions together, played pool and volleyball, worked out. Hell, he’s been over here countless times for barbecues—and he made moves on my sister.”

“Honey, this isn’t the eighteen hundreds. He didn’t have to ask your permission to court your sister, you know.”

He closed his eyes for a second. “No, he didn’t. You’re right. Still, I thought he’d have said
something
about it.”

Evie stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “Stop right there, big boy. Not your business. Adults, consenting, all that jazz. Get over it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Working on it, okay?”

She slipped her hands down to his belt buckle and started to drag it open. “Why don’t you work on me for a while instead? You’ll feel better, I promise.”

His breath hissed in when she slid inside his fly and pressed her palm to his cock.

“Damn, Evie girl, you sure play dirty.”

“Oh honey, I haven’t even started to play dirty yet…”

C
hristina tried
to get back to life as usual. After she arrived in DC, Matt and Evie picked her up and took her to dinner. They’d left the twins with the nanny they’d hired to help, though Evie kept checking her phone throughout dinner. She apologized, but Christina didn’t mind. She got it because she kept checking her phone for word from Remy.

There was nothing, had been nothing since she’d last seen him on the pier. Matt eased her fears somewhat by telling her he’d specifically checked on Viking’s SEALs and all were accounted for. They were no longer in Qu’rim, but beyond that he couldn’t say.

So she breathed easier, but she still wondered where Remy was and why he wasn’t calling her. Maybe he’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble after all. She couldn’t blame him if he had. She’d pushed him away six months ago, and then she’d pulled him in over the past couple of days as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

Those signals were mixed enough to confuse anyone, though she thought she’d made it clear that she was ready to move forward and see where this thing took them. If he still wanted to. Which, maybe, he did not.

“You’re taking the next week off,” Matt said, and she jerked her head up, meeting his gaze.

“What?”

Her brother looked intense, as he often did when he was determined. “I spoke to the old man. You’re taking a week off. No flying anywhere, no business deals, no Girard Oil.”

“I think I can determine my own schedule, Mattie. I don’t need your help. Or Dad’s either.”

Matt reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You’ve been through a lot, and you need to process it. Running from what happened out there won’t help, trust me.”

“Nothing much happened. We rode across the desert in vans. And then th-there was a bomb and people died, but you see that on the news every day.” She didn’t mention the horsemen, or the fact that her heart hitched when she thought of the convoy and the bomb. She’d never forget the sound of it, or the smell. Bleach and charred flesh. In fact, if she had any bleach in her laundry room, she wasn’t opening it ever again.

Matt didn’t let her go. Evie wore a soft smile of encouragement.

“It takes time, Chrissy.”

“It does,” Evie said. “There’s so much adrenaline when everything happens, and then it’s over and you feel kind of, well, off a little as you start to process everything you saw. The world continues on as before, but you were in danger and you watched people die. That doesn’t go away overnight.”

Christina stared at her sister-in-law. She hadn’t forgotten what a crazy time Evie’d had in Rochambeau with Matt when her sister was kidnapped, but it all seemed so ordinary now that Christina never thought of it. And she’d never thought of what Evie must have felt when she found her ex-partner’s body or when the woman driving Christina’s father’s yacht wrecked it and died. There had been a lot of violence in a short amount of time, and Evie had been through it all.

“So what do I do?” Christina asked. “Sit in my house and think about it for the next week?”

“No, of course not,” Evie said. “But you don’t need to jump on a plane and head to Houston either. If you go back to Girard Oil tomorrow, you’ll be on a plane for who knows where, and you’ll say you’re just fine. Give it a few days is all we’re saying.”

Christina shifted her gaze between the two of them. Her heart filled at the love and concern she saw there. She’d been such an introverted child, a loner, and she’d thought at one time she was always destined to be that way. To keep everything to herself, because it was safest. She’d found friends and opened up to them, yet she was always cautious deep down. Always ready to lock the gates and protect herself.

But here she had two people who loved her and always would, no matter what she said or did. It was a comforting thing to know.

She didn’t tell them that she hadn’t planned on flying anywhere for a while because she was waiting for Remy to show up. Of course she’d planned to do some work though. She hadn’t given up on Sheikh Fahd, and she intended to call him and try to close the deal over the phone.

But she could do that from home if it made these two happy. She bowed her head for a moment and worked on containing the emotion welling inside her.

“A few days,” she said. “I can do that.”

Matt squeezed her hand again and let it go. She could tell he was relieved. “Good.”

“Mary is working out so well,” Evie said brightly, referring to the new nanny. “Maybe we can plan shopping and lunch one day?”

“I’d like that,” Christina replied. And she would. But she’d like it even more if Remy showed up on her doorstep as soon as possible.

* * *

F
ive days
.

Christina stood at the window in her bedroom and gazed at the street below. She’d heard nothing at all from Remy, even though she knew he wasn’t in Qu’rim anymore. He was safe, but he wasn’t calling her.

Okay, so
this
was what it felt like to be ignored. He was giving her a taste of her own medicine. He’d made love to her in a war zone, made her feel safe and special, and now he was done with her. He wasn’t going to answer his phone—she’d tried once, but he hadn’t picked up and she hadn’t been brave enough to try again—and he wasn’t going to come and see her.

There was no plan to keep her in bed for twenty-four hours, no plan to call her. And she deserved it, didn’t she? This was what she’d done to him. When he’d walked out of her house the morning after they’d first been together, he’d believed he would see her again. That they’d explore the attraction between them more thoroughly, maybe ease into a relationship.

And she’d been too much of a coward to answer his calls. Why hadn’t she just picked up the phone and told him it was too much too soon? He would have respected that.

Christina sighed and tugged on her ponytail. She’d been so afraid of what had happened between them that she hadn’t trusted herself to tell him no. That was the problem. She’d run for her own protection. She hadn’t trusted herself.

Well, she was certainly getting a dose of her own medicine now, wasn’t she?

She turned away and went to get dressed. She’d spent the past several days working from home, only going out to the grocery store or the coffee shop. She’d gone shopping with Evie one day, as promised. They’d had a good time at the mall. Evie hadn’t pressed her for details of what happened in the desert, and she hadn’t offered.

She’d wanted to. She wanted to talk to someone about it, but every time she’d thought about opening her mouth, she couldn’t do it. Something held her back.

It was almost the holidays, but the days weren’t too cold yet. She put on a pair of dark jeans with heeled boots and a blazer before grabbing her trench coat. Today she was going into the office. She’d only waited five days and not seven, but whatever. She’d spoken to Sheikh Fahd, and he’d finally agreed that selling his oil to Girard Oil was the best way to go. She needed to head into the office and oversee the paperwork.

And she really needed to fly to Houston, but she kept putting that part off. Just a few more days. If Remy didn’t show up by then, well, she’d go. And she’d throw herself into work with more enthusiasm than ever before. She’d travel twenty-five days a month instead of fifteen. She’d go around the world making deals and overseeing oil production. She’d be the best motherfucking business development manager in the history of Girard Oil.

She grabbed her purse and keys and whipped open the door. Then she gasped. Ben stood there with his hand raised to knock, though why he didn’t just press the doorbell she didn’t know.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, grasping the door and holding it tight. As if she was going to have to whip it into his face or something.

He gave her a hangdog look. “You aren’t answering your phone.”

She closed her eyes for a second. “Yes, but that’s because there’s nothing to say.”

Every time her phone rang, she’d freaked. Then she’d pick it up, see Ben’s number, and want to scream. She’d tried to block him, but apparently that wasn’t quite as easy to do on a landline as it was on a cell phone.

For the hundredth time, she berated herself for keeping a landline. But, dammit, she’d grown up in the bayou where storms often knocked out cell towers and the only thing that worked was a landline until the towers were fixed. It was a habit to keep it, though it was inconvenient as hell too when the only people who ever called were the ones she didn’t want to hear from.

Ben and telemarketers and political candidates. It was enough to drive a person insane.

His eyes flashed with anger, but he quickly banked it. “I need to talk to you, Christina.”

She gripped the door like a shield. “About what, Ben? You and me? It’s not happening. Not ever again. You lied to me and cheated on me and… and what, you’re not gay now? You want me instead of Chardonnay?”

His jaw tightened. “That was a mistake. And I’m not gay. I’m bisexual. I like men and women both. I had a moment of weakness.”

She snorted. “I am aware of what the term means. I am also aware that you promised to love, honor, and cherish me—and then you fucked someone else in the most embarrassing way possible.”

He looked scandalized. “You don’t talk like that, Christina. Not ever. What’s gotten into you?”

Her heart hammered hard in her chest, and her skin prickled with heat. She wanted to slap him. And she wanted to scream at him. He was criticizing her use of language? Really? After everything
he’d
done?

“I
do
talk this way, Ben. I’m done pretending to be perfect. I’m not. I cuss and I cry and I get mad and I say things that are rude.”

“You never used to.”

She sniffed. “Yeah, well I’m learning to be me and not some version of me that makes others happy.”

He shook his head sadly and gave her a puppy dog look she would have once fallen for. “I’m sorry for everything, Christina. I made a mistake. I just want you back. I want to start over.”

“That’s not possible.”

His face twisted into a mask of anger. It was so sudden that she took a step backward. And then she gripped the door hard and prepared to slam it in his face.

But he anticipated her, shoving a foot into the opening before she could get the door closed.

“It
is
possible, Christina,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning down in a hard frown. “You need me. Nobody else understands you like I do. You’re a sad, neurotic mess, the daughter of an alcoholic, the child of a wealthy man who ignored you to screw strippers your whole life. You mean nothing to him.
Nothing
. Together we can show him how wrong he was—I’ll run for office again, we’ll get it right this time, and you can invite him to the inaugural ball when I am the governor. We’ll rub it in his face. We’ll laugh so hard.”

His eyes gleamed bright, and she stared at him in horror. He really believed what he was saying. Believed he had a chance, not only with her but also in politics. For a moment, she wondered if Ben was out of touch with reality, but then she realized it was just his supreme narcissism coming to the fore. He honestly believed he was capable of anything he put his mind to, even coming back from a huge scandal and winning a gubernatorial race.

“You need to go, Ben,” she said as calmly as she could. He wasn’t big like Remy, but he was still bigger than she was. Maybe it was just an instinctive reaction after what had happened in Qu’rim, but she felt threatened.

Scared.

For a moment Ben looked as if he would shove his way inside her house. But the tension left his body and he took a step back, brushing off imaginary lint from his custom Brooks Brothers suit. His Italian loafers clicked on her porch as he moved.

He wasn’t violent. Never had been. Christina breathed a tiny sigh of relief, though her pulse still fluttered in her throat.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Please don’t come back. It’s over between us. We’re divorced—and there’s nothing left to say.”

His lips flattened, the corners whitening. “If that’s what you want.”

She swallowed. Her heart hammered and beads of sweat popped up beneath her sweater. But she nodded firmly. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

“All right. Then I guess this is good-bye.”

Ben turned and went down the steps. He didn’t look back as he walked out to the street and got into the silver Mercedes sitting at the curb.

Christina watched him get inside and drive away. She considered staying home and locking the door, not leaving the house at all today. But then she sucked in a breath and gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going to let him win. No, that hadn’t been pleasant, but she also knew she was still very much affected by what had happened in Qu’rim.

Not every man who got angry was a killer. And not every situation was dangerous.

Still, she waited a few minutes before she stepped out onto the porch where Ben had so recently stood. She closed and locked the door with trembling fingers, cursing her weakness as she did so. Then she walked briskly to her own car and got inside.

It was going to be a good day at the office, dammit. And if Remy hadn’t come by the end of the day, well, she’d make plane reservations for her weekly trip to Houston. It was time to get moving with her life again.