Battle with the SEAL_Norse Security [Book Three]
Battle with the SEAL
Norse Security Book Three
Leslie North
Contents
Norse Security
Copyright
Battle with the SEAL
Blurb
Mailing List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
End of Battle with the SEAL
Thank you!
About Leslie
More Books by This Author
Norse Security
Ride with the SEAL
Undercover with the SEAL
Battle with the SEAL
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, AUGUST 2018
Copyright © 2018 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by LJ Mayhem Covers.
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Loki is the type of man who can blend into any situation: the party boy, the wallflower, or the man who slips into the back room and steals information—whatever is needed of him as an undercover SEAL. Now, with his Wounded Warrior fund on the line, he’s been given a job that could save it: ferreting out a mole. But instead of a mole, he finds his perfect female counterpart: another spy on the trail. And she’s working against him.
Mirabelle, "M", is a master of disguise. A shake of her hair, a swipe of her lipstick and she can change from a secretary to a sex kitten. It’s a talent that comes in handy in her line of work as an agent. Plugging the leaker in a data breach could finally gain her the momentum she needs to advance her career. That is until she discovers a sexy SEAL working against her—making her question everything she thought she knew.
When M and Loki’s paths collide it’s only a split second gut check that sends them running for cover together rather than ripping each other apart. There’s more to their leaker than either of their clients are telling them, so the two agree to band together. For now. Deep undercover and with ever-shifting personalities and priorities, M and Loki find themselves clinging to what they know: each other. What ensues is a battle of operatives as they reluctantly join forces to figure out who the mole is, all while trying to ignore an attraction that feels so very, very right.
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1
Wandering around a cheesy, tourist-ridden airshow in the Midwestern United States wasn’t exactly Kevin “Loki” Low’s idea of a good time. Not that he didn’t enjoy huge plastic cups filled with too-sweet lemonade and absurdly awful fanny packs cinched tightly around too-plump waists as much as the next person. Honestly, he deserved a medal for the things he did to keep his company, Norse Security, afloat.
Too bad he didn’t have a little vodka to spice up his lemonade. Then again, the type of guy who hung out at airshows like this probably didn’t know vodka from moonshine, so he supposed it was all part of his cover. And cover was his specialty. Any time, any place, any persona—he could do them all. Blending was his talent. In fact, it was how he’d gotten his nickname—after the Norse god of trickery and deception. No one was better at that than him.
Still, he wished one day he’d get to pretend to be a rich dude instead of a redneck.
With a sigh, he peered around the end of the food truck he was standing behind, the smell of deep fried meat and popped corn tickling his nose, and stared across the busy walkway at the woman he’d come here to track. Known only as M, her real name was so far under wraps even Loki with all his resources hadn’t been able to discover it. He had, however, been able to locate several pictures of her on the Internet, always with the same short pixie haircut—though the color changed often—and always with those same killer curves. Today, she was wearing a bright pink tank top to match her hair and a pair of denim shorts that should have been illegal in all fifty states.
He shook off his inappropriate thoughts about what he’d like to do if he ever got her out of said shorts and instead concentrated on his mission. Loki was here because his company had been hired by a private contractor client with a major weapons deal about to go down in the United States. This client suspected a mole within their ranks, a spy who could ruin everything if the culprit wasn’t rooted out and taken down. If successful, the commission on this job could single-handedly fill the dwindling coffers of Norse Security and put them back on solid financial ground. Their last couple of ops had gone less than stellar—Cam and his bungled car and tech retrieval mission and, most recently, Hunter and his run-in with a sex trafficking ring in L.A. Although both guys had ultimately completed the jobs assigned to them, and found the loves of their lives along the way, none of it had been cheap. Loki, being the boss of it all, was left with a mess to clean up, money-wise. So wrapping up this job cleanly, smoothly, and quickly was of the upmost importance. And after weeks of painstaking research and monitoring, Loki believed that said mole was standing right across the walkway from him now.
Loki’s fingers twitched at his side as he considered just pulling his gun right now and marching over to the booth where M appeared to be admiring a pair of rhinestone-encrusted sneakers, and taking her into custody. Then she turned and looked straight at him, her gaze cool and calculating as she lifted the hem of her tank top to reveal a gun of her own.
Well, fuck.
So much for this mission being over without a snag.
There were too many people around for him to risk a firefight here. There’d be way too much collateral damage. Instead, he tossed his Big Gulp in the nearest trash can before making a beeline toward her across the walkway. Surprisingly, she didn’t bolt as he’d expected.
Instead, M grabbed his hand and pulled the shocked Loki away, rushing through the crowds toward the less packed parking area. Once they were clear of onlookers, M stopped and turned to face him, her hand still poised over the butt of her pistol, just in case.
“Why the hell are you following me?” she asked, her gaze narrowed.
Loki’s mind immediately went on high alert. She’d asked him why he was following her, not who he was. Which meant she already knew. Apparently, she’d been studying him too, same as he’d done her. Two could play that game, so he shrugged. “Why are you following me?”
Something whistled past his ear. At first, Loki thought it was just another bee or insect, but then he felt warmth trickle down his neck. He reached up and his fingers came away coated in warm sticky blood. Shit. He barely had enough time to take hold of M’s wrist and tug her down to the ground beside him before another bullet shattered the window of the minivan they were crouched next to.
“No shit?” M already had her weapon pulled and was sidling toward the back of the van.
Cursing under his breath, Loki ditched the bulky fanny pack still strapped around his waist, pulling out the extra magazine of ammo and burner phone he’d stashed in there, before sneaking after her with his own weapon raised. “Do you know who it is?” he asked, his voice low.
“Not definitively,” M said, whipping back around to face him as another volley of bullets pinged off the cars around them. “But I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
“Great. Mind sha—” He’d been about to say “sharing”, but was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. It had to be Cam. The agency’s resident tech guru was the only person with Loki’s number today. He hit the answer button at the same time M answered her own phone, then glared at her while he talked. “What is it?”
“Got another data leak, boss,” Cam said as the sound of him typing on his keyboard clacked through the phone line. “Looks like this one’s coming from the support tech company we hired, not the mole you were investigating. Thought you’d want to know.”
“Dammit. Thanks.” Loki ended the call then stared at M, his irritation growing. “I thought you were my mole.”
“Yeah?” She snorted, shoving her own burner phone into the back pocket of those impossibly tiny shorts. “That’s funny. Cause I thought you were my mole.”
“Your mole?” Loki scowled, ducking once more as more ammo rained down on them. The near-silent bullets were starting to draw attention at last, people running and screaming, and sirens now wailed as law enforcement neared the parking area where they were hiding. “I’m not a mole.”
“Neither am I.” She smiled. “We need to get out of here before the cops find us.”
A small muscle ticked near Loki’s tense jaw. His gut told him to get back to the agency, to work with Cam to find out who the hell was responsible for that second leak and who the hell had tipped off the shooter that he’d be at the airshow today. His mind, however, insisted he stick with his mysterious M here and figure out why exactly she continued to show up at all the same places where he expected his mole to be when she clearly was not the mole.
Exiting through this parking lot clearly was not an option though. She was right, dammit. They need to get out of there before the cops arrived, and before their sniper turned them both into Swiss cheese. He took her hand and pulled her back toward the crowded walkway. A friend of his from the Navy, guy named Marcus Allen, was here today showing off a fancy private jet he was piloting for some rich businessmen in New York. If they could make it to the jet, they might have a shot of getting away clean. He’d marked that escape route as a last-ditch resort, since Loki’s research had revealed some unexpected connections between M and Marcus, but if there was ever a time for last-ditch it was now.
“Where the fuck are we going?”
“To catch a plane.”
M struggled to remove his grip on her, but Loki was too strong. He kept a hold of her as they skirted through the people, dodging old folks and toddlers in strollers. Thankfully, there were enough obstacles between them and the snipers that they couldn’t get a clean shot. Finally, they reached the chain link fencing lining the taxiways and he did a final check over his shoulder to make sure they hadn’t been followed before stowing his gun in the back waistband of his jeans.
“What now?” M asked, clearly annoyed.
“Now we climb.” It was Loki’s turn to grin as he started scaling the ten-foot-high fencing. “Better hurry. From up here I can see the police are headed this way. If you can climb in those things, that is.”
He eyed her Daisy Dukes and did his best not to imagine those sleek, tanned thighs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her hard and long. Jesus. He’d been too long without a woman. That had to be it. He never lost concentration like this on a mission.
She glared up at him for a moment then proceeded to shimmy up the fence beside him, sneering as she went. “This is horseshit. They told me this job should be a piece of cake.”
Loki raised a brow at her words. Who were “they”? The people she was working for? And what job exactly was she working on?
At the top of the fence he threw his leg over and hopped down to the ground then held his arms up to catch her when she jumped. She was about a foot shorter than his own six-four, and all lush curves and lean muscle. He might have enjoyed the feel of her body sliding down the front of him a tad more than he should have.
“Jesus.” She rolled her eyes at him when he didn’t let her go right away and stepped out of his arms. “C’mon, lover boy. Let’s get to that plane of yours before they kill us.”
With that, she pulled Loki across the tarmac toward Marcus’s plane.
As he raced along behind her, Loki couldn’t help wondering when the fuck his normally ordered, perfectly planned mission had gone so horribly off track.
2
“Hey, bro,” M said as they raced past the guy standing near the bottom of the gangway stairs leading up to the jet’s doorway. “Cover for us, eh?”
Without waiting for his answer, she tugged the man who’d messed with her careful laid plans up the stairs and inside the fancy aircraft. The plane’s engine quietly hummed beneath them as they stood staring at each other across the leather and wood paneling trimmed cabin. Neither of them were even breathing hard after their escape from the firing squad and jog across the taxiway, a testament to their physical conditioning.
Of course, M—or Mirabelle as her birth certificate read—had noticed his fine-ass physique right away. She had a thing for cut guys with chiseled jaws and chests. What could she say? Every gal had her weaknesses. She crossed her arms and jutted out a hip, aware that he still seemed hypnotized by the sight of her legs in these skimpy shorts. Fine. She could use that distraction to her advantage.
“I know your name is Kevin Low. I know that you’re an orphan and were raised in foster care. I know you’re an ex-Navy SEAL and that you run a security firm with other ex-military guys that you take in like stray dogs.” M stared at him, eyes narrowed. “What I don’t know is why you think I’m a mole.”
Her abrupt tone seemed to jar him from whatever stupor he’d been in. He looked up at her, his dark brows knitting as he frowned. “Bro?”
“Huh?”
“You called Marcus bro. Do you know him?”
“Of course I know him. He’s my frigging brother.” She tapped her sneakered toes on the carpet. “How do you know him, Mr. Low?”
“Navy.” His frown deepened as he gave her a slow once-over. She felt that look in her core, tingles racing outward through her bloodstream whether she liked it or not. “And call me Loki.”
Now it was her turn to frown. “Low key? As in relaxed?”
“No.” His frown shifted to a grin and damn if the beauty of it didn’t nearly steal her breath away. “Loki as in the Norse god. Trickery and deception and all that jazz.”
All that jazz was right. M shifted her weight and crossed her arms tighter, hoping to hide the appearance of her suddenly hard nipples.
Before she could say anything more, he recited off his own list of facts about her. “I’ve been testing you, you know. To see if what you’re telling me is the truth or not. So far, you’ve stuck to script. But let me tell you what else I know. I know you were adopted after Hannah Walker and Peter Walker discovered they couldn’t have a second biological child. The pilot of this plane, Marcus Walker, is really your brother. You have degrees in both history and cosmetology, which accounts for the appalling color of your hair. And you work for a private security company that conducts special operations under the radar for any client who’s rich enough to pay you.”
“What’s wrong with the color of my hair?” M asked, scowling. She loved changing her appearance and did it as often as possible. The wilder the better, in her opinion. “How the hell did you find all that out about me?”
“Same w
ay you did.” Loki grinned. “I’m good.”
“I’ll make my own decision on that,” she said, pushing past him to head for the cockpit of the plane, where her brother was running through his checklist for takeoff. The guy looked more like a surfer than a professional pilot, with his shaggy blond hair and crooked smile, but M loved him more than her own life and would do just about anything to keep him and the rest of her family safe. She took a seat in the copilot’s chair and buckled herself in, perusing the controls while her brother studied his clipboard.
“We’re heading to Virginia?” she asked, noting the coordinates programmed into the navigation system.
“Virginia’s good for me,” Loki said, leaning against the cockpit door. He seemed to take up all the space in the tiny cockpit and M’s breath caught. Damn the man and his gorgeous face. Why couldn’t he have stayed at the airshow like a good boy and let her get on with her work? Instead, he had to stand there all muscled and sleek and way too sexy for his own good, tempting her to do things to him and with him that she had no business wanting.
“So, Marcus,” Loki continued, keeping his gaze locked on M as he talked. “How come you never mentioned your spy kid sister here when we were in the SEALs?”