Trusting the SEAL (Saving the SEALs Series Book 3) Read online

  So the fact the book was on Toni’s device didn’t concern him. The fact she’d had it open and was reading it did. He’d started to let his guard down with her, but this was a reminder that she might be more in cahoots with her father than she was letting on.

  He scrunched his nose and scrolled forward several pages in the book, scanning the words without really reading them. And then there was Michael Becks. A former Navy SEAL himself, he’d gone rogue against his own team and killed them all in the jungle, setting fire to their corpses to go in search of this damned file too. He’d resorted to kidnapping Anna, bribing Natalie, even joining forces with some crooked FBI agents to try and get this romance novel. Man, if Spencer ever got his hands on that deep-fried turdbiscuit, he’d make goddamned sure Becks rued the day he’d ever been born.

  Spencer sighed, squinted at one of the sentences, then grimaced. Throbbing manhood? Jesus, did people actually read this crap?

  Shaking his head, he tossed the e-reader aside and stared out the window at the white clouds and hints of the blue Arabian Sea thirty-five thousand feet below. Not much chance of any throbbing body parts on his horizon, not with the only female on his present radar being his heiress target whom he’d been warned by his team leader to steer clear of under threat of very slow, very painful death.

  Good thing it wouldn’t be a problem. And, of course, there was his persnickety ways where women were concerned. Cold as ice, that tabloid had called him. He gave a derisive snort. The opposite was true actually. Just because they’d interviewed the last girl he’d dumped, the one who’d started talking love and marriage the second she’d woken up beside him, before she even knew a thing about him. And since when was having high standards a sin?

  Spencer wanted what his grandparents had—their level of commitment and trust and honesty—and wouldn’t settle for less. End of story.

  Restless, he pushed to his feet, heading for a small mini-bar and pulling out a bottle of OJ. He’d just cracked the cap off when the sound of a door opening echoed behind him.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Spencer stopped mid-sip at the sight of Toni. She’d changed and was now wearing a crisp white sheath dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair and makeup were also done to perfection, just enough to enhance her already pretty face, but nothing too heavily applied or bright. She eyed him warily from where she stood. There was nothing trashy or overtly sexual about how she looked—perfect for the highly conservative Muslim area they’d be visiting—yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. In truth, she just might be the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.

  Toni gave him a small half smile, pretty pink coloring her cheeks. “Do I look all right?”

  Momentarily speechless, Spencer lowered his bottle of juice and faced her, taking her in from the tips of her sensible white flats to the top of her head, her dark hair slicked back into a low ponytail. Throat tight, he forced the words out. “Uh, yeah. You look…uh. Wow!”

  Her smile grew and his pulse pounded loud in his ears. “Thanks.”

  He nodded, not sure what to do next. “So.”

  “So.” She walked over to where she’d stashed her storyboards at the beginning of the flight. “I don’t usually stress about these presentations, but this one is special. Initial reports from the sheik’s assistant said they were expecting several thousand people for the initial PR spot at the airport alone.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “Yeah.” She smoothed a hand down the back of her skirt before taking a seat and Spencer couldn’t help following the movement with his gaze, wishing it were him running his hands over her pert little ass. “Important too. If I can get Sheik Saaed and his allies on board, I’ll have access to their vast distribution channels. This could be huge for our foundation. We could get these e-readers into the hands of children all over the country, including some of the remote desert tribes.”

  “Remote desert tribes?”

  “Yes, like the ones you mentioned before. Some of the outlying provinces in the mountains, a few along the borders too.”

  Spencer chugged his juice then stashed the empty bottle in the seat pocket. If Kyle’s hunches were right and those so-called tribes were part of SHEEPSKIN’s network, then they’d be ripe for radicalization and those e-readers would play right into the terrorists’ hands. In fact, word from some of his buddies still working in black ops said there were some major dormant cells of rebels lurking in those outlying regions. Shit. He needed to let Kyle know so the team could be ready to provide extra security, if needed. If those rebel bastards tried to hijack one of Toni’s PR events and took her captive to gain access to her father’s media feeds or worse, killed her for the simple reason she was a high-profile US citizen…

  “You better get changed,” she said, glancing up at him. “We’ll be there in about an hour.”

  “Right.” Spencer forced his tense muscles to relax and unclenched his fists, walking to the back area and grabbed his garment bag and his polished dress shoes along with his charged cell phone. This case would put him in the public eye more than usual, as he would need to stick close to Toni’s side during her appearances. Plus, he didn’t get many opportunities to dress to the nines in his line of work, so he liked to make damned sure he looked fine as hell when he did. He opened the door to the tiny airplane bathroom, then called to her over his shoulder. “Be out in a bit.”

  “Take your time,” she said, without looking at him. “We won’t land for at least an hour.”

  After sending Kyle a quick update, he stripped and took a quick shower in the tiny space provided, toweled off and shaved before pulling on a crisp black suit. There wasn’t much room to maneuver, especially for a guy of his height and build, but Spencer did the best he could. Finally, he knotted his emerald green tie in a perfect Windsor knot, then gave himself one last once-over before exiting. Not exactly GQ cover model, but it would have to do.

  He put away his garment bag then walked back to the front of the plane, doing a quick mental rundown of all the things he needed to handle once they landed. Assess the area, coordinate with the local security forces, contact Kyle again to let them know they’d landed safely then get the location of their team’s next rendezvous point.

  Spencer glanced over at Toni and bit back a grin at her lingering appraisal of him. Her gaze traveled over him from head to toe and left a tingle trail of awareness over his skin in its wake.

  To distract himself from the pink rising in her cheeks and the way she was biting her lower lip, he pulled down his carry-on bag from the overhead compartment then strapped on his holstered weapon around his waist, only to hear Toni gasp. Spencer swiveled to face her, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

  “Is that necessary?”

  “What?” He scrunched his nose. “You mean my gun?”

  “Yes.”

  “Considering the possible circus we may walk into down there and the fact terrorists have ramped up their attacks in this area recently, I’d say yeah. It’s necessary.” He pulled out his Desert Eagle and chambered a round before clicking the safety back on and returning it into its holster. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

  Indignation sparked in her eyes at his disdainful tone. “If by ‘those people’ you mean, intelligent individuals who prefer non-violence to bloodshed, then yes.” She used air quotes for emphasis. “I’m one of ‘those people’.”

  Perfect.

  Spencer shook his head and took his seat, refastening his seatbelt. Now, she wasn’t just a beautiful, bullheaded, bewildering distraction. She was against one of the fundamental aspects of his job too. “Sometimes sacrifices are necessary for peace, you know. Sometimes good people have to do bad things for very good reasons.”

  She harrumphed. “I disagree.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I’m in charge of your security and you’re in charge of smiling and looking pretty for the camera.” He picked up a nearby copy of that day’s newspaper an
d flicked it open, effectively blocking her out.

  “Excuse me?” Her angry tone made her voice lower and damn if he didn’t feel that husky vibration all the way in his groin. Annoyed, he shifted in his seat and did his best to concentrate on the reasons why he and this woman would never work. As she laid into him, he tried not to think about how he wanted her more right now than his next breath. “What I do for a living is much more than smile and look pretty. My work has value and importance and can change people’s lives. And what does your work do? What positive thing comes out of beating people up and threatening them?”

  “Is that what you think I do?” he shot back at her. “You think I’m just some glorified thug? Let me tell you something, lady. You hired me to protect you and that’s exactly what I intend to do, by any means necessary. And just because I carry a weapon doesn’t mean I go around shooting at anything that moves. I’m licensed to carry and better trained to use this gun than ninety-nine percent of people on the planet. I only pull the trigger as a last resort, when all other methods of defense have failed and only after weighing the cost of sacrifice I’m making. You think it’s easy to kill a target? Even when that kill is justified? Well think again.” He forced himself to breathe and relax his stiff jaw. “Taking a life is never easy. Never. And if it is, then you better stop and seriously reconsider your life choices because you have gone down a dark and demented path. A path so twisted I can’t imagine you’ll survive. So don’t ever presume to know what I’m thinking or feeling about what I do or the weapons I carry, okay?”

  Adrenaline and sexual energy buzzing through his system, Spencer lowered the paper and glared at her while the captain’s cheerful voice echoed over the PA system once more. “Please fasten your seatbelts and stow all of your mobile devices. We’ve been cleared for landing at Al-Hambra International Airport and should be on the ground in Jubail in approximately twenty minutes.”

  They eyed each other across the space of the cabin in stony silence.

  Finally, Toni tucked her story boards next to her seat again then buckled her seatbelt, mumbling under her breath about stubborn, exasperating men, while pointedly not looking at him.

  Spence crossed his arms, counting the minutes until this damned mission was done and he could return to his normal life and not have to deal with the opinionated, naïve, infuriatingly intriguing woman across from him ever again.

  Hot wind smacked Toni’s cheeks and the air smelled of baked asphalt and jet fuel. Nervousness had her heart slamming against her chest as she stood at the top of the stairs to descend from the plane. Masses of people swarmed below on the tarmac. Near the bottom of the steps stood Spencer, keeping an eye on the crowd from behind his dark sunglasses. Every rigid line of his body, from his tense shoulders to his resting military stance, screamed don’t-mess-with-me.

  Despite her earlier words, she found his overt show of strength now oddly comforting. Especially considering it looked like way more people had shown up than the sheik’s assistant had initially led her to believe. They’d cordoned off a small area around her podium and a long red carpet cut a swath through the crowds to their waiting limo, though the reporters crowded nearby still jockeyed for position and the best shots. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

  Everything was riding on this one moment, this one speech, this one presentation. Either she impressed the dignitaries and they allowed her to distribute her charity’s e-readers to the needy children of Jubail or her foundation would fold from lack of funds and she’d lose her last, best chance of impressing her father.

  No pressure at all.

  Slowly, she made her way down the steps, glad for the longer length of her dress and the fact she’d decided to tie her hair back beneath her prim little sunhat. With all the wind, it wouldn’t do to flash this crowd or show any impropriety, not when the penalty was instant beheading. There’d been many strides of late in the human rights arena in the Middle East, but they still had a long way to go in terms of gender roles and what women were and were not allowed to do in public.

  Near the bottom of the staircase, Spencer stepped in beside her, the warm weight of his hand at her lower back reassuring as he guided her forward to the podium. His movements were a bit stiff and cold due to their earlier disagreement, but at the last second he leaned in and whispered, “You got this.”

  At least she had one vote of confidence.

  With the presentation memorized, Toni went on auto-pilot for the speech, saying the right things at the right times and pointing to the appropriate graphs and charts when needed. If someone had asked her later what she remembered about the event, she couldn’t have told them a thing. She usually prided herself on living in the moment and taking everything in, but today… Well, today she felt lucky to remember her own name, let alone those of the dignitaries staring back at her with unreadable expressions.

  Though she couldn’t remember the finer details, she was sure she’d hit all of her major project points and highlighted the ways in which her e-reader distribution would benefit the country of Jubail both educationally and economically.

  Job done. If not well, then at least competently and concisely.

  By the time she was finished, she felt hot and flustered and ready to collapse in a puddle of stressed-out goo. As if sensing her fatigue, Spencer moved in once more and whisked her down the red carpet to the awaiting limo. The press called out a barrage of questions along the gauntlet, but she ignored them. There was another presentation scheduled in a day or two specifically for the media anyway, so no harm done.

  Once she was settled in the cool leather interior of the air conditioned car, she took a deep breath and rubbed her throbbing temples. Perhaps it was the heat that made her feel lightheaded. Then again, maybe it was the man sitting beside her, his façade still icy as the North Pole.

  Toni took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Spencer, I’m sorry about what I said on the plane. You were just doing your job and I had no right to attack you.”

  He removed his shades and blinked over at her several times, as if weighing his options. At last, he sighed and sank back into his seat, a slow grin spreading across his handsome face. “Apology accepted. And you did fantastic out there.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and crossed his ankle over his knee, his green gaze narrowed as he stared over at her from across the width of the limo, the look on his face growing more concerned. “You okay? You’re pretty pale.”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  Her tone must’ve sounded less than confident, if his growing frown was any indication.

  “When did you last eat?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Before we left DC, I guess.” Toni gave a shaky shrug and stared out the tinted window at Jubail’s glittering capital city of Hasan in the distance, all sleek skyscrapers and luxury resorts. “The temperatures were warmer than I expected for this time of year.”

  “Yeah.” Spencer snorted. “I remember the first time I was here with my SEAL team, one of my buddies, Gage, got heat exhaustion. Of course, the dumbass was trying to show us all how tough he was by hauling two armed torpedoes on his back at the time.”

  Toni forced a smile then rested her head back against the seat. “Must be a guy thing.”

  “Not all guys feel the need to prove themselves.”

  She peeked one eye open and quirked a brow at him. “Like you?”

  “I’ve got nothing to prove.” He continued to watch her, his eyes narrowed.

  “Hmm.” Toni closed her eyes again, hoping everything would stop spinning soon. “Thanks for all your hard work back there. Makes the week ahead seem less daunting.”

  “It’s my job.” The sounds of him shifting in his seat were followed by the quiet whirr of the glass partition separating the back of the limo from the front descending. Spencer spoke to the driver in hushed Arabic, too soft and fast for her to catch exactly what he said, though she wasn’t exactly concentrating either.

  Soon, the limo slowed. Toni strai
ghtened and opened her eyes in time to see the right side window whoosh down, revealing a drive-thru window and a familiar set of golden arches. Spencer grinned over at her and winked. “What do you want to eat? I’m starving.”

  “Oh.” Her stomach growled loud. “Um, I figured we’d get something once we got to the hotel.”

  “We can eat dinner there later. But I can’t wait until then.” He cocked his head toward the open window. “Get whatever you want. My treat.”

  She glanced over at the menu. “I guess I’ll just have a burger and fries.”

  “Good choice.” He rattled off their order in perfect Arabic, then pulled out his wallet as they swerved up to the pay window. Hard to believe she’d traveled half way around the world to eat classic American fast food, but Toni had to admit a taste of home right now was just what she needed and his thoughtfulness was thoroughly charming.

  Once they were back on the road again, she sipped her vanilla shake and smiled. “I figured a buff guy like you existed on power bars and protein shakes. You keep surprising me, Spencer Nixon.”

  “As do you, Toni Williams,” he said, smiling back at her around a mouthful of ice cream. “As do you, with your law degree and your philanthropic endeavors.”

  They finished their impromptu meal just as they pulled up to the entrance of their swanky hotel. Toni stuffed her trash into her bag then checked the front of her dress. Remarkably, she’d managed not to drip anything on the pristine white fabric. Spencer hadn’t been quite so fortunate, it seemed. He cursed and attempted to wipe off a glob of mustard from his tie. Too bad, she thought, since the color matched his eyes so perfectly, but maybe the hotel dry cleaners could remove the stain.

  The driver came around and opened her door to help her out. She smoothed her hand down the front of her dress then stared up at the ornate glass and steel architectural jewel where they’d be staying for the next week. Even with all of her father’s wealth, she never would’ve stayed someplace so extravagant, if it had been up to her. But Sheik Saaed was sponsoring her trip and he was co-owner of this resort. He’d offered to put her and her entourage up for their entire stay in Jubail. To turn down his invitation would’ve been exceptionally rude.