SEAL of Her Dreams (SEALs of Coronado Book 0) Read online

  Shit.

  Kurt was about to reach for his beer when the phone rang. He froze, his heart immediately kicking into another gear. Maybe it was Melissa. Then again, with his luck, it was probably HQ calling with another mission.

  He grabbed the cordless handset from the couch where he’d tossed it after calling Melissa and pouring out his heart on her answering machine almost four hours ago. Or making an ass of himself; he wasn’t sure which.

  “Travers.”

  “Kurt… it’s Melissa.”

  Relief flooded him. “Man, am I glad to hear your voice. You must have gotten my message.”

  “I don’t know if she did or not,” a man said on the other end of the line. “But I’ve got one for you.”

  Kurt bolted upright on the couch, his hand tightening around the phone. “Who the hell is this?”

  “I’m kinda hurt you don’t remember me, seeing as we went a few rounds in the parking lot of that restaurant a couple weeks ago.”

  Son of a bitch.

  It was Big Mouth. Kurt could have kicked himself for not recognizing the asshole’s voice.

  “If you hurt her, I will find you and I will kill you in the most painful way I know,” Kurt said. “And I know a lot of them.”

  Big Mouth snorted. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I ain’t gonna hurt your pretty girlfriend. Not if you do like I say, anyway.”

  Kurt clenched his jaw. “What do you want?”

  “Yeah, now that’s more like it,” Big Mouth said. “Meet me at the Broken Bottle Bar in fifteen minutes.”

  Kurt had heard of the sleazy bar, but had never been there. “It’s going to take me at least twenty minutes to get there from where I am.”

  “Then you better drive fast because I said fifteen. And come alone or else I’ll do a lot more than hurt your pretty girlfriend.”

  With that, Big Mouth hung up.

  Fuck.

  Kurt knew there was no way in hell Big Mouth was going to be alone at that bar, but he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t have time to round up the guys on his Team. Besides, Mack was the only one who even lived remotely close.

  He dialed his friend’s number, praying Mack was home.

  “Hunt.”

  “Mack, it’s Kurt. Get your ass down to the Broken Bottle Bar ASAP.”

  Kurt didn’t have time to wait for a reply. Instead, he tossed the cordless phone on the couch and scooped his keys up from the table in the entryway, then headed down the hall and out the exit door of his apartment building.

  Luckily it was the middle of the night, so there wasn’t a lot of traffic on the road. Even so, Kurt barely made it to the bar in time. The place was a crappy hole in the wall that had seen better days. Since it was near closing time, the parking lot was empty except for a few cars. If this were a mission, he and his Team would go in with a plan, but he didn’t have time to come up with one. Not with Melissa in danger. So instead, he got out of the truck and walked right in the front door.

  The interior of the bar was dimly lit, but he immediately spotted Melissa. She was sitting in a chair with her hands tied behind her back and a gag in her mouth. She looked terrified, but unharmed. The sight of her in such a vulnerable position was enough to almost bring him to his knees—and piss him off more than he’d ever been. If he had any doubts that what he felt for her was real, they disappeared in that moment.

  Kurt would have run over to her right then—caution be damned—but Big Mouth was standing beside her, looking smug. The lowlife didn’t appear to have a weapon, but Kurt didn’t want to risk it. There were two more guys by the bar, and another at a table a few feet behind Melissa. The way they were eyeing Kurt with blatant hostility told him they almost certainly were part of this set-up.

  Big Mouth snickered… and Kurt immediately felt like smashing in his face. “Didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come alone. Not that I blame you. This is one fine piece of ass you got here. I could see myself dragging my balls across broken glass for a chance to screw a woman like her.”

  Kurt balled his hands into fists, fighting to control the anger building up inside him. “I’m here. You can let her go now.”

  Big Mouth laughed and looked around the bar. “You boys hear that? He thinks he’s the one running the show.” His gaze slid back to Kurt as the other three men chuckled. “That’s not the way it’s going to work, asshole. The first time we met, I was a little drunk and you took me by surprise. This time, I’m going to put a beat down on you like you ain’t never had. I’m going to whup up on you like a redheaded stepchild right here in front of my boys. And when I’m done with you, I’m going to have some fun with your woman. If you ain’t unconscious, you can even watch. Then after that, I’m tossing both of you in the bay. We’ll see how well your ass floats with a concrete block tied to your fucking neck.”

  Giving Kurt a self-satisfied grin, he half turned and ran a finger down Melissa’s cheek before bringing it to his mouth to lick it off. “Damn, this bitch is sweet.”

  Kurt ground his jaw as Big Mouth took a step toward him—and away from Melissa. He hadn’t necessarily shown up here with the intention of killing this shithead, but now that might just change.

  Big Mouth advanced on him confidently, that stupid grin spreading halfway across his face. Kurt wondered if he’d be as confident if he knew the guy he was coming at was a Navy SEAL. Probably. This moron seemed too stupid to know what a SEAL was.

  Kurt moved to the left a little, into a more open area. There were a lot of small tables around them, but all the chairs had been placed on top to make room for cleaning, so there was plenty of space to work.

  He was surprised Big Mouth hadn’t pulled a weapon. He was also a little shocked the other three guys hadn’t gotten up to join in the fight yet. Kurt guessed Big Mouth wanted to do this man to man. That was fine with him. Though he doubted Big Mouth was going to think so highly of the idea in a few seconds.

  Big Mouth charged when he was about ten feet away, roaring like a hippo in heat and probably thinking he sounded scary. Actually, he just sounded silly.

  Kurt waited until the man was about two feet away, then he stepped to the side and brought his right hand up in a quick ridge hand strike that landed solidly just below the idiot’s throat. Big Mouth went down hard, hitting the floor with a thud. The air that wasn’t knocked out by the impact of Kurt’s stiffened hand exploded as the man connected with the wood.

  Big Mouth was still coughing and choking as he reached behind his back for something. Kurt saw the move coming and kicked out viciously just as a small handgun came into view. The weapon skittered and bounced across the floor, thumping into a far wall hard enough to knock a dent in the wood.

  From his position on the floor, Big Mouth glared at his buddies. “What the hell are you idiots doing just standing there? Kick his ass!”

  The other three men immediately came running, but Kurt didn’t give a crap. He was so angry at that point that he would have taken on a whole platoon full of shitheads to protect Melissa.

  The first guy came in swinging like a psycho, but that ended when Kurt picked up a chair from a nearby table and smashed it into the man’s head. It wasn’t a fair move, but Kurt wasn’t here to fight fair. He was here to kick some ass and take Melissa home.

  The other two were a little smarter. They split up and tried to come at Kurt from two sides at once. It might have worked, if this were the first time something like this had happened to Kurt. But he’d trained for this kind of stuff for years.

  Grabbing another chair, he tossed it at the guy on the left, then turned and punched out the guy on the right. By the time the first one was done getting the furniture off his face, Kurt was waiting there to flip him over his hip and smack him face first into the edge of a table.

  Big Mouth had finally climbed to his feet and was looking around like he was searching for something. More help, maybe. Or even his weapon. When he didn’t find either, he turned and ran for the door.

 
Kurt caught him in two steps, twisting him around and punching him repeatedly until he’d got all his anger out. Unfortunately for Big Mouth, it took a lot of punching to get to that point. By the time Kurt dropped the piece of shit to the floor, the guy’s face looked like someone had put it through a meat grinder.

  Served the son of a bitch right.

  Turning, Kurt hurried over to untie Melissa. The minute she was free, she was on her feet and in his arms, holding onto him tightly, her face pressed against his T-shirt. As much as he hated to pull away, he forced himself to step back and gently lift her chin.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did that asshole hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine. What about you?” She gasped at the sight of his red and raw knuckles. “Your poor hand! It’s not broken, is it?”

  Kurt couldn’t help smiling as Melissa cradled his tender hand in her delicate one. “Nah. I’ve hurt it worse than this playing football with the guys on the Team.”

  She gave him a skeptical look and probably would have called him on it, but a voice interrupted them.

  “Guess you didn’t need my help after all. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have rushed.”

  Kurt turned to see Mack standing just inside the door, an amused look on his face as he took in the four men sprawled on the floor.

  “Call the cops, would you?” Kurt said. “There’s a payphone in the back by the restrooms.”

  Mack headed that way, giving them a nod as he passed.

  “That’s a guy on the Team. I’ll introduce you later,” Kurt said, turning back to Melissa. “First there’s something I need to tell you.”

  He would have continued, but she put a finger to his lips, shushing him.

  “Me first,” she said.

  * * *

  Melissa hadn’t meant to interrupt him, but she’d spent the last thirty minutes terrified for her life and Kurt’s. While her captor had been waiting for Kurt to show up, he’d taken great pleasure in telling her exactly what he was going to do to her after he killed her boyfriend. If she hadn’t been gagged, she would have told him that her boyfriend was a Navy SEAL and that Kurt would be the one beating up him and his equally slimy friends. But when Kurt had walked into the bar alone, looking even more handsome than she remembered, it was all she could do not to beg him to turn around and walk out so he wouldn’t get hurt.

  If she hadn’t been sure she was in love with him before, she was now. And after what happened tonight, she wasn’t waiting any longer to tell him.

  “I got your message,” she said softly. “I was coming over to see you when that jerk grabbed me.”

  Kurt frowned. “How did you know where I live?”

  “I heard you give your address to the cops that first night and remembered it.” She gave him a sheepish look. “I had no intention of stalking you, I swear.”

  His mouth twitched. “You can stalk me whenever you like.”

  If he only knew how close she’d been to doing that these past few weeks. “Did you mean everything you said? On the answering machine, I mean.”

  “Yes.” Now he was the one who looked a little embarrassed. “I know I rambled on, but everything I said was true. I’m just sorry I didn’t tell you those things before I left your place that night.”

  Melissa shook her head. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I knew what I was getting into when I decided to sleep with you. When you said you had to go on a mission, I got scared and I lost it. I’m never going to be thrilled about the job you do, but I know it’s who you are. I’m willing to deal with it to have you in my life.”

  He did a double take. “Are you sure?”

  She reached up to caress his hair-roughened jaw. “I’m sure. I’m still a little scared—and will be every time you leave to go somewhere—but I’m sure. More sure than I’ve ever been of anything.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  This near him, it was easy to forget they were standing in the middle of a seedy bar. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, then opened them again as she remembered something.

  “The tape on my answering machine ran out right as you were about to say something,” she said, taking a step back to look up at him. “What was it?”

  Kurt smiled. “That I love you.”

  Melissa felt her heart do a little dance at his declaration. She smiled. “I thought that was it, but I wanted to be sure. I love you too, in case you didn’t know.”

  Falling in love with a man after only two dates was crazy. But Melissa knew what was in her heart. She was in love with this man. And that was the only thing that mattered.

  Kurt pulled her in for a kiss that made her wish they weren’t in the middle of that same seedy bar. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little nervous about the journey she was about to embark on. Being the wife of a Navy SEAL was going to be hard, but for a chance to be with a man as special as Kurt, she could do it.

  * * * * *

  I hope you enjoyed Kurt and Melissa’s story!

  Fast forward twenty years later and Navy SEAL Kurt Travers is now Master Chief of an entire platoon of hunky Navy SEALs in Coronado, California. One of those SEALs is Chasen Ward, and he falls hard and fast for a woman he rescues from terrorists.

  Here’s a sneak peek at SEAL FOR HER PROTECTION, Book One in my SEALs of Coronado Series, which is FREE right now for a limited time.

  He saved her once. Can he save her again?

  Investigative journalist Hayley Garner is no damsel in distress. Fiery, feisty and tough, she can handle herself in the field. But when she’s kidnapped by terrorists, she knows she’s in real trouble. Then in sweeps sexy, rugged Navy SEAL Chasen Ward to rescue her from certain death. After getting her to safety, he disappears into the night before she can even thank him.

  Weeks later, Hayley encounters Chasen again and finds herself falling into a passionate romance with the hunky hero out of her dreams. But ever since she's returned home, Hayley feels as if someone's watching her. Is it post-traumatic stress or does she have reason to be afraid?

  PROLOGUE

  Nigeria, Africa

  FROM WHERE SHE sat on the floor, Hayley Garner looked around the dank, smelly pigsty of the makeshift prison cell, seeing nothing she hadn’t seen the last three days. It was dark outside now, but the single bare lightbulb hanging from one of the overhead beams allowed her to make out the rough concrete block walls and the two pieces of corrugated sheet metal hastily attached to the brick covering what had once been windows.

  She’d left the security of the city of Maiduguri to get the real story of what life was like in the war-torn area, especially in the small villages beyond the limited reach of the Nigerian Army. But getting captured by the Boko Haram terrorists she was here to write about was never part of that plan, and now she was in serious trouble.

  She hugged her knees and stared at the door that served as the only way in or out of the room. It was impossible to look away from it for more than a few seconds at a time because she was terrified one of the terrorists would storm in at any minute and catch her unaware. Though she had no idea how she was supposed to prepare herself for what she knew was coming soon.

  Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back, berating herself for ever having left the dorm rooms at the university where she’d been staying with the other international journalists. But she’d been sent by her paper back in the States to get real stories, not the fabricated stuff the local military command had been trying to sell them, and the only way to do that was to go outside the city.

  According to the official word, Boko Haram was a decimated fighting force, barely hanging onto a few tattered strongholds out in the jungles along the far eastern edges of Borno State, but all it took was one look at the terrified faces of the locals—not to mention one moment spent listening to the sounds of intense fighting outside the city at night—to convince her that was all crap. So she’d slipped away, made a deal to get a ve
hicle, and headed toward one of the local villages that had recently been attacked in the hopes of getting something real. That’s when she’d been ambushed by the Boko Haram and her Land Rover had flipped over. She’d been knocked unconscious and woken up in this nasty place. While she had a cell to herself, she wasn’t the only woman being held captive. The screams of the other female prisoners echoed in the air at all hours of the day and night. She shuddered to think what was happening to them.

  For the first day or so, she’d held out some hope the men who’d rammed her Land Rover off the road a few miles south of the village of Dalori would ransom her back to the government in return for weapons, money, or food—maybe even a prisoner exchange. That hope had faded quickly when the terrorists had come into her prison cell to taunt her with her fate. They took turns shoving her around, laughing as they told her in words she barely understood what she was in for as soon after the “colonel” returned from wiping out whatever poor, defenseless village had attracted his unfortunate attention.

  In three short days, Hayley had come to hate the tiny space she was being held in, hate the single naked bulb over her head that flickered but never went out, and hate the door standing between her and freedom. Worse than all of that, she hated the creak of the door opening. Because at some point, it would mean the horrible men were done taunting and laughing at her. Then things would get much worse.

  Hayley knew they were going to kill her because they’d already done that many times with foreign captives, especially journalists. The thought terrified her, but not nearly as much as what they would probably do to her before they got around to killing her. They’d done a lot of horrific things to a lot of women in general, foreign ones included.