Authors: Misty Evans
…After what I’ve stumbled across, you’re the only man who can protect me…
…I know what happened with Operation Warfighter…
Bianca’s words looped like a flimsy rubber band through his mind as the wind drove rain into his face. His naturally suspicious nature was conflicted. Maybe she was telling the truth, and in that case, he needed to know what she’d discovered and why she needed protection.
If she was pulling a drama queen act and going for an Oscar, he needed to know the why of that as well. Why not hand him the divorce papers and be done? Why imply she needed him when all she wanted was to kick his ass to the curb like the US government had done thirteen days ago?
Either way, seeing her stirred up feelings he’d tried long and hard to shut down. She was kryptonite. His Achilles heel. Her simple presence—that librarian look and genius IQ behind the glasses—undid him every fucking time. He wanted to strip her naked and kiss every inch of her body, make her groan and beg for more.
And then he wanted to irritate her with some flippant comment about her “desk job” just to listen to her spout words like “autolatrist” and “kosmokrator.”
How the hell did I end up with her
?
He wiped rain from his eyes, slowed Maggie to a walk.
Because she saw something in you long before the Navy did. She
believed
in you
.
He wondered if she still did.
…you’re the only man who can protect me…
At a lookout site that offered him a view of the entire marina and boatyard, he tucked himself and the dog behind a set of trees and in between some large rocks. Maggie whined, wanting to head home for breakfast. His own stomach gurgled in reply. “Give me ten, Mags,” he told the dog. “Better safe than sorry.”
He scanned the area, saw nothing and no one out of place. Normally, a few of the old guys would be sitting out on their boats having coffee and reading their papers. This morning, there wasn’t a soul out. He searched the hills behind the marina and saw nothing suspicious. If someone was tailing Bianca, they were good.
But he was patient.
He gave it the full thirty minutes, his headache lifting in the humid ocean air. When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he took Maggie and doubled around the area again, rechecking the obvious sites a man could hide. Sites Cal himself had scoped out and logged in case he ever needed them.
“Paranoid son-of-a-bitch” Butcher had always called him. Cal had never denied it.
Confident no one was following Bianca, and ready for his shower and breakfast, Cal urged Maggie back to a run and headed for the boat.
Chapter Three
Bianca found a pair of binoculars on the bridge. As she stood hidden behind the navigation controls, wishing she’d worn more sea-worthy clothes, she watched Cal running back to the boat.
As per normal, he was in his element—water. He’d been a gifted swimmer even as a kid and had competed nationally in high school.
She’d never learned to swim. The best she could do was dog-paddle and even that was a struggle. Open water made her feel claustrophobic—the opposite of most people. Being in water over her head sent her into a full-fledged panic.
We really couldn’t be more opposite.
But opposites
did
attract. In their case, that was both good and bad. From the day they’d met, she and Cal had come together, broken up, and come together again. First as friends, then as more.
Even now, she couldn’t deny the sexual chemistry between them. Her pulse jumped at the sight of him, every part of her body tingled when he looked at her. If only there weren’t so much bad stuff between them. She wished they could lay all the ugliness down, get out from under it for a few hours, and enjoy coming together once more.
Not just for the physical stuff. For the friendship. Cal had been her best friend since elementary school. She missed him.
While rain pelted the bridge’s windows, Bianca stood transfixed, unable to take her eyes off him. He ran with such ease, his tan face turned up to the rain as his long, sure strides ate up the distance between them. Her parts tingled and her heart beat erratically in her chest.
God, I love you
.
She understood the science behind what she was feeling—the chemical releases going on in her brain. Cal was familiar. Cal was safe. Her most precious memories were tied to him. Her happiest times were rooted in him.
He may have been her polar opposite, but since the day he’d picked a shy girl up off the playground asphalt, brushed pieces of the sharp cinders from her knees, and raised his fists to the school bully who’d made her life hell, Cal had been her hero.
Even when he’d broken her heart.
Now it was time for her to repay the favor. This time the bully was the government she and Cal had sworn to serve. Standing up to that bully would cost her everything…her job, the quiet existence she enjoyed, and quite possibly her life. But the government had already taken the one thing she held most dear—Cal. She wouldn’t let them destroy him as well.
The dog ran by his side, completely soaked and tongue lolling from the side of its mouth. They hit the boardwalk and slowed to a jog. She was sure the dog was smiling.
Through the binoculars, Bianca could see the animal was missing vital male parts, so it must be female. That might explain the adoration in the dog’s eyes. Bianca had never met a female yet who could resist the absolute alpha male prowess Cal exuded.
Hell, she’d been at restaurants with him where the
male
waiters hit on him.
The thing none of them realized was that he was a very dangerous man. A weapon the US had trained and given specialized skills. When she told him about Senator Halston, Cal would want to use those skills on the man.
What to do? Could she keep her husband away from the senator until the worst of Cal’s anger subsided and she could convince him to go along with her rational, logical plan? Cal would be out for blood, and if he went after the senator his way—with violence—she’d be forced to rein him in.
She couldn’t physically stop Cal from doing anything. And she didn’t want to notify authorities that he was hunting down a United States senator.
Cooper, the leader of the Southern California Violent Crimes Taskforce, could possibly step in if she needed him. He was a secretive guy himself, and she knew a few of those secrets.
If necessary, she wasn’t above blackmailing Cooper to gain his cooperation, but she didn’t think she’d need to stoop that low. He valued her—at least her brain—and once you were part of Cooper Harris’s team, the man would move mountains for you.
She preferred to do things her way, and if she involved Cooper, he’d take charge. He’d also end up in the crosshairs with her. Best not to involve him unless she was left with no other alternative.
She lowered the binoculars as Cal and the dog came aboard and headed down the stairs, oblivious to her in her hidden vantage point.
“B?” he called over the noisy rain, and his deep voice made her pulse jump. There was the usual irritated edge to his voice, but something else as well. “Where are you?”
Worry
? Was that what she heard in his voice? Sure had been a hell of a long time since he’d worried about her.
She had to do this. She had to tell him. What happened after that would be up to him.
Leaving the binoculars behind, she flipped on the tiny camera she’d installed by the boat’s windshield so she could keep an eye on the marina’s entrance. Grabbing the handrail, she steadied herself. The storm might buy her an hour or two—keep Cal from going anywhere and slow down anyone searching for her—but she needed to figure out a way to keep him sequestered, and her ass out of the line of fire until she could find physical evidence against the senator she could take to the Justice Department. They wouldn’t bring him up on charges over hearsay.
And hearsay was all she had.
Bianca sighed. After what she’d put Cal through already, he was more likely to toss her overboard than become her bodyguard.
Cal dried his hair with a towel, watching Bianca descend the stairs. She was as wet as he was, strands of her hair sticking to her graceful neck. She’d removed her glasses, and if not for the clothes and the fear on her face, she’d look like she’d just stepped out of the shower.
Oh, the fun they’d had in the shower. “What were you doing up there?”
She took the other end of the towel and wiped her face off with it. “Watching you.”
Warmth spread in his veins. “Afraid I wouldn’t come back?”
Her eyes met his. “Yes.”
One simple word but it packed a hell of an accusation. “I always came back, B.”
“You almost didn’t this last time.” Her voice was soft but forceful. “I told you that would happen. The odds—”
“The odds?” He took the towel, then wiped off his neck. “Fuck the odds. Three of my men died. I should have died with them.”
“You nearly did. You knew that joining the SEALs could leave me a widow.”
How many times had they had this discussion? “Being a SEAL is my life.”
Was my life.
He didn’t miss the flare of hurt in her eyes, but before he could backtrack and try explaining that she’d always been even more important to him, Maggie decided to shake off the rain.
Water flew all over Bianca’s legs. She let out a yelp and jumped backward. “There are over a million feral cats in San Diego County and you adopt a dog?”
Cal grabbed a dry towel from a bin above the bed and tossed it at her. She’d always been a cat person, feeding the strays in the neighborhood even after her mother had slapped her for “wasting food.” He shook his head. “A million feral cats in one county?” She was a walking book of facts and an expert at exaggeration. “Come on.”
“You want to see the stats from Animal Control?” She dried her legs and feet while Maggie panted, looking at Cal and waiting patiently for her kibble. “L.A.’s even worse. The number runs around three mil.”
So maybe she wasn’t exaggerating. Being married to Bianca was like being married to his own form of Google—except in an annoying, infuriating way. “The towel is for Maggie.”
“Maggie?”
He pointed at the Lab. “Dry her off, will you?”
Bianca looked like he’d asked her to sleep with a terrorist, but after Maggie whined and wagged her tail half-heartedly, Bianca conceded and started running the towel over the dog’s fur.
Cal filled Maggie’s bowl. As she inhaled it with loud, chomping noises, he sidestepped Bianca and headed for the shower. “Make yourself at home.”
“Cal.” She touched his arm as he passed. “Can we get out of here? We don’t have to go far, just…away from San Diego.”
The feel of her hand on his arm stopped him. The familiar scent of vanilla and almond came off her skin—the lotion she’d used since high school. His cock gave a twitch, his eyes automatically closing so he could breathe deeper.
Home
. She smelled like home.
In that moment, his male instincts told him to follow her anywhere. His heart, however, knew better. He shifted his arm out from under her hand and opened his eyes. “And go where?”
“How about we sail up the coast for a couple of hours?”
“In this storm?”
“
The
Love Boat
’s not seaworthy?”
She knew how many cats ran wild in San Diego but not the simple fact that taking a sailboat the size of his out in a storm was a bad idea?
His senior chief had given him orders…stay low and near HQ until the investigation was over. Cal’s meeting with the military review board was in two days. They were going to crucify him but he deserved it. “I can’t leave San Diego.”
She bit her bottom lip, looked away.
This time, he reached for her, snagging her elbow. She jumped, wrenching it away, and he felt like an ass. She’d always had a knee-jerk reaction to people grabbing her, thanks to her bitch of a mother.
Gently, he reached out and took her hand. It was cold, her fingers trembling. “Is someone really after you?”
She looked down and closed her fingers around his. Her eyes were sad when she glanced back up. “I’ve missed you.”
God
damn
. She couldn’t do this to him. Not here, not after everything she’d said to him the last time they were together.
I want a divorce
.
For one half-insane moment, he almost wrapped his arms around her. Her body had always fit so perfectly inside the ring of his arms…
“I came to see you in the hospital,” she said. Her voice was quiet, so quiet he almost didn’t hear the words over the wind and rain beating against the boat. “Your senior chief told me you didn’t want to see me.”
The hospital? He’d been injured during the raid, a couple of bullets doing some damage as he pulled Tank to cover. “Ramstein?” He’d been transported there for medical care and a debriefing in the aftermath of Warfighter. “You came to Germany?”
She looked down and her lashes fluttered against her skin. In the dim light, she looked pale—too pale. “I heard about what happened. Saw the report. Only, per orders, no names were mentioned. I didn’t know who’d been killed and who’d been injured. No one would tell me, and I was going crazy. All I could find out was that only two of you were taken to the base hospital, so I hopped on a plane.”