Navy SEAL Captive (5 page)

She'd taken half the money they would have used for a down payment on a house and bought a whole new wardrobe, including sexy lingerie, with the intention of having the time of her life...and maybe even a fling while in Cancún...without Tyler.

She glanced from beneath her lashes at the man in the doorway, her imagination running rampant. A fling with Sawyer would far exceed her expectations. He was infinitely more muscular than Tyler, besides being utterly sexy and dangerous. Her heart fluttered, and she had to bring herself back to what was important. The danger that surrounded them.

“What bothered me most about going to the lobby and even riding up in a crowded elevator was the unknown,” Jenna said. “The assassin could have been any one of the people in the lobby or elevator. He might appear to be a man on vacation in khaki slacks...”

“Or a guy in a blue polo shirt,” Sawyer finished for her.

She nodded. “You were looking, too, weren't you?”

He straightened. “Now that you have your suitcase, you might be in the clear. All the more reason for me to get the gun case out of your possession.”

Jenna gnawed on her lower lip. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I know someone who could run fingerprints on it.”

“Haven't we handled it too much to lift clean prints?” she asked. What was she saying? She knew nothing about fingerprints and how to collect them.

“Did you pick up the rifle?” Sawyer asked.

“No.”

“Neither did I. We might be able to lift prints from the stock or scope.”

“Well, let's get it to your guy.” She closed her suitcase and started for the closet where she'd stored the gun case.

Sawyer stepped in front of her, his eyes narrowed as if thinking. “I'd have to go back by my bungalow to deliver the case.”

Jenna's pulse sped. “You can't.” She stopped in front of him. “If the gunman knows you're here in Cancún, he'll know where to look for you. The hotel you checked into. You can't get near the bungalow. That would be giving him an easy target.”

Sawyer's lips curled upward, making Jenna's insides quiver. “Unlike being on a WaveRunner jetting out to sea?”

She frowned. “At least I got your attention, as well as getting you out of range of a sniper's rifle.”

“Which he didn't have because you pilfered it, mistaking it for your own case.”

Jenna sighed and looked up at him. “What if I hadn't mistaken the case? You never would have known someone was after you until it was too late.”

He took her hand and drew her closer. “In case I haven't told you already...thanks for saving my life.”

Jenna stared down at his hand holding hers. “Anyone would have done it.”

“No. Not anyone. You might have taken the case straight to the police.”

She glanced up. “I did consider them, but concluded they might not understand the case isn't mine. They might have thrown me in jail rather than help you. You were in more immediate danger, and a visit from the Cancún police would have slowed me down.”

Sawyer lifted her hand to his lips. “Thank you again for risking your life to save mine.”

Jenna's gaze was captured by Sawyer's, and she fell into his dark brown gaze. “You're wel—”

He covered her mouth with his. His hands dropped to her waist, pulling her hips against his. The hard evidence of his desire pressed against her belly.

Jenna moaned and opened to him.

Sawyer slid his tongue between her teeth and she met him, her tongue twisting and turning in a dance of desire. When at last Sawyer raised his head, Jenna swayed, bracing her hands on his chest. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Why?”

“I barely know you.”

“You knew enough about me to find me on the beach and save me from an assassin. I reckon that gives us a pass on convention.”

She rested her forehead against his chest. “I didn't come to Cancún to get involved with a man.” But, boy, had that backfired on her.

He sighed. “And I have no business getting involved with you.” He gripped her shoulders and set her at arm's length. “As a SEAL, I'm gone more than I'm home. And with an assassin after me, I can't risk you becoming collateral damage.”

Jenna stared up at him, narrowing her eyes. “What do you mean?”

His jaw tightened. “Since you found your case, we can probably assume the gunman didn't mistake it for his. He can't know you have his gun. You're in the clear.”

“So?”

“If you're in the clear, I need to step away so you aren't caught in the cross fire if things go bad. I don't want anyone connecting the dots between us.”

What he was saying slowly sank in, and Jenna stepped back, out of his grip. “Does this mean you'll take it from here? I'm not needed anymore?”

He nodded. “That's exactly what I mean. As long as someone is after me, I'm a target. Anyone who gets close to me becomes a target, as well.” He walked to the closet and pulled down the case. “Once I leave this hotel, I'll ditch the hat and glasses and resume my existence as Sawyer Houston.”

“The walking target.” Jenna shook her head. “That's crazy. You should hide. The assassin might have a backup rifle pointed at your bungalow, just waiting for you to return.”

“Or he's scrambling to find a new one.” Sawyer faced her, the case in his hand. “You don't happen to have a laundry bag or beach bag big enough to disguise the case, do you?”

Jenna stood motionless, her mind racing, her thoughts focused on Sawyer. “I have a beach bag,” she said and moved toward her other suitcase with the giant folding beach bag she'd packed to carry her beach towel, hat and sunscreen. It was big enough to carry the small gray suitcase with not much room to spare. As she pulled the beach bag out of her luggage, she faced him. “So, you're just going to walk out of here and not let me help anymore?”

He took the beach bag from her and nodded. “That's right. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”

Jenna propped a fist on her hip and squared off with him. “Don't you think that's my choice?”

He shook his head. “Not when it could cost you your life.” He stuffed the case into the oversize bag and tied the handles together. “You shouldn't be seen with me, especially if I'm not wearing the disguise.”

“I'll take my chances.”

“Okay, I don't want you to follow me around.”

Her mouth firmed. “I do what I want to do.”

“I won't allow it.”

“Look. I found the note and the gun. I risked being drowned or shot to bring you that information.” She laughed shakily. “I feel like I have a vested interest in keeping you alive.”

Once again, his hands came down on her shoulders, his fingers pressing into her skin gently but firmly. “I'm a trained SEAL. I'm used to being shot at. When was the last time someone tried to kill you?”

Her back ramrod straight, she tilted her chin upward. “The last time I drove on I-10 to New Orleans.” She touched a hand to his chest. “There are no guarantees in life. For the first time, I've stuck my neck out, and I refuse to bury my head in the sand again.”

Sawyer's lips twitched. “Your fiancé was so wrong about you. You know that, don't you?”

Jenna refused to be sidetracked by his sexy grin and the way his eyes shone when he smiled. “You're avoiding the subject.”

“You are not a bit boring. Annoyingly protective, but never boring.” He bent to touch his forehead to hers. “I'm not taking you with me this time.” Sawyer straightened. “But I'll give you my cell phone number in case you run into problems.”

She started to open her mouth to argue with him, but he touched a finger to her lips.

“I promise not to go by my bungalow,” he continued. “I'll get the case to my guy another way.”

Jenna drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I'd rather go with you.”

“Sweetheart, I like you, and I like being around you. If we were two people on a regular vacation, I'd rather you came with me, too. But we're not. Please stay here. And remain vigilant in case the gunman figures out what happened to his case.”

“Fine,” she said. She'd stay long enough for him to leave. Then she'd do whatever she pleased.

Sawyer's eyes narrowed. “My mother always said ‘fine' when the situation was anything but fine.”

“I'll stay,” she said.

He stared at her a moment longer, then nodded. “Where's your cell phone? I want to give you my number and the numbers for my buddies in case something happens to me.”

“See? You do need someone with you at all times to keep something from happening to you.”

He shook his head and held out his hand. “Your phone?”

She marched to the table where she'd dropped her purse and dug out her cell phone, handing it to him.

He keyed in several numbers and names, then handed it back. “I'll contact you later to let you know I'm alive and I've passed off the case.”

“Thanks.” She hugged the phone to her chest, her heart heavy at the thought of Sawyer leaving. For the few short hours she'd known him, she'd gotten used to having him around. But she didn't have a real reason to stay with him. She'd done her best to warn him about the threat to his life. It was up to Sawyer to heed the warning and stay alive.

Then why did she feel more alone than ever when he left the bridal suite?

Jenna stared at the closed door, her heart thumping hard against her ribs. Sawyer Houston wasn't her responsibility, but a part of her left with him. Her instincts were screaming at her to go after him. He was in dire danger.

But he was a grown man and a navy SEAL. What could a jilted accountant do to protect him from an assassin?

Chapter Five

As soon as Sawyer left Jenna's suite, he called his wingman, Dutton Calloway.

“Hey, Sawyer, wanna rent some fishing poles and do some shore fishing this evening?”

“I thought you and Natalie weren't surfacing from your bungalow for the duration of this vacation?”

“That was the general idea. But we were thinking about coming up for air and getting in some fishing.”

“Duff, as much as I'd love to do that, I need your help.” Sawyer explained what had happened with Jenna and the case containing the rifle and the note. “If someone is truly after me, I need to find out who. I can't walk around in the open without marking myself with a great big bull's-eye.”

“Damn, bro.” Duff's easygoing attitude of a moment before turned serious. “Where are you now?”

“In the stairwell of Jenna's hotel, two over from ours.”

“I'll gather the gang and meet you.”

“Where?” Sawyer asked. “I can't stand out in the open.”

“Meet ya at the dock. You know which boat.”

Sawyer knew the boat Duff mentioned. Natalie's boss had some influence. One of the perks of having him as a boss was the use of a boat belonging to one of his rich friends. They'd used the forty-foot luxury yacht in a rescue operation to save her.

The boat had gotten them onto the island and...well...it was beautiful and luxurious. What better place to schedule a clandestine meeting?

“Gotcha. See you there in fifteen?” Sawyer paused. “And by gathering the gang, you don't intend to arrive in a group, do you? I don't want the gunman to follow you to me.”

“Hey,” Duff said. “We're experienced SEALs.”

“And we're supposed to be on vacation.”

“I know. This is the second unsanctioned operation we've conducted since we've been here.”

Sawyer shook his head even though Duff couldn't see him. “Less than a week and we're fighting battles when we should have been sipping mai tais on the beach, served by beautiful waitresses in bright bikinis.”

“Yeah. There's something wrong with this picture,” Duff agreed. “See ya in fifteen.” He ended the call.

Pulling his cap low, Sawyer kept his head tilted down. With the shadows provided by his cap bill and the large mirrored shades, he was nondescript. No one would look twice.

The bottom of the stairwell gave him the option of entering the lobby or exiting the building on the side. He left the building, coming out in a concrete parking lot. The marina was a mile away. He could walk that in fifteen minutes, easy.

Glancing left then right, he hurried away from the resort hotel and out onto the beach. Ideally he would move fast enough that no one could get a bead on him from one of the windows in the high-rise hotels. He needed to get to his own clothing and out of the New Orleans Saints football jersey. If someone recognized him, it would be too easy to follow him in the distinct white jersey with gold-and-black accents.

Thirteen minutes later, he arrived at the marina, having zigzagged from the beach to the street and finally to the marina. He spotted the Jeep that Montana had rented. He wondered if Quentin would be there with Carly.

He marched on, carrying the big beach bag, trying to look like a tourist preparing to go out on a fancy yacht. When he reached the yacht, he leaped on board and dropped down the stairs into the living quarters.

“About time you got there,” Montana announced.

Duff stood beside a smoky-gray quartz table, his arms crossed over his chest. “Quentin took Carly out dancing. He won't be back for a while.”

“What gives?” Montana asked.

Sawyer tipped his head toward Montana, and then his gaze slid to Duff.

Duff returned the look, concern drawing his brows together. “We just got here. I haven't filled him in on much.”

“Where's Natalie?”

“I left her at the bungalow,” Duff said. “She had a conference call with her boss.”

“She going back to the Stealth Ops group?” Montana asked.

Duff nodded. “Now that her sister doesn't need her around anymore, she'll report for duty with SOS when she gets back from Cancún next week.”

Natalie had told them SOS stood for Stealth Operations Specialists. They were a secret government organization established to take care of anything that needed even more secrecy than the FBI or CIA could provide.

“Thanks for ditching the WaveRunner way down the beach from where we rented it,” Montana said. “By the way, who was the babe who jumped on with you?”

“That's why you're here and not at the bungalows.” Sawyer pulled the case from the beach bag, laid it on the table and held out his hand. “Got a knife?”

Duff pulled out a slim pocketknife and handed it to Sawyer.

Montana asked, “What's in the case?”

“Trouble,” Duff answered for Sawyer.

Sawyer flipped the latches open and lifted the lid, exposing the dark clothing on top.

“I don't get it.”

“Give me a sec.” Sawyer ran his finger over the spot Jenna had rubbed earlier, and the divider between the top and bottom halves of the suitcase popped upward. When he lifted it all the way, Montana stood.

“What the hell?” He reached for the rifle parts. “You could spend a lot of time in a Mexican jail if they caught you with that kind of equipment.” He shot a puzzled glance at Sawyer.

“It's not mine.”

“Whose is it? The woman who kidnapped you on the WaveRunner?”

“No. She thought it was her case, took it to her room and discovered the rifle and this.” He pulled out the envelope and showed them the photos and the note. “Apparently, someone wants me dead.”

Duff grabbed the note, and Montana leaned over his shoulder to read it.

When he finished, Duff shook his head. “But why?”

Sawyer's lips tightened. He suspected the reason had something to do with his father. “If I knew, I might also figure out who could be gunning for me.” He paced away from his teammates and back. “All I have are the rifle, the photos and the note.” He glanced at Duff. “Has Lance left his bungalow yet?”

Lance had come to Cancún with Natalie to provide SOS technical support in Natalie's mission to find her sister and the other women who'd been abducted. He was a top-notch techno guru with the ability to hack into just about anything.

Duff nodded. “He asked his boss if he could delay his return by two days to catch some of these tropical rays before he returns to his cave in the DC area.”

“Do you think he could run a fingerprint check on the rifle?”

“You'll need to provide yours and Jenna's so he can rule them out.”

Sawyer frowned. “She didn't handle the rifle, but if he wants to lift prints from the inside of the case and the contents of the envelope... I guess I could go back and get hers.”

“You spent part of the day with a woman who hijacked you on a WaveRunner.” Duff gave him a hard stare. “Why hesitate now?”

Running a hand through his hair, Sawyer couldn't help but grin. “Actually, she was very nice. Quentin and I met her on the zip-line excursion earlier today.”

“Does she have any connection to the woman Quentin took dancing?”

Sawyer nodded. “Roommates and best friends.”

Duff tucked the photos and note back into the envelope. “We need to get these to Lance ASAP. The sooner he runs those prints, the better.”

“They may come up blank,” Montana said. “An experienced assassin wouldn't leave prints on his weapon, would he?”

“You would think he wouldn't leave his case with his gun lying around for a stranger to take, either.”

Duff glanced up. “Speaking of which, where
did
Jenna get the case?”

“From the lobby between the concierge and reception desks,” Sawyer replied. “Why?”

“It's a pretty modern resort. They probably have a good security system.”

Sawyer nodded. “I noticed cameras in the hallways and the stairwells. Stands to reason they'd have them in the lobby.”

“I'll ask Lance to hack into their system,” Duff said. “He could do that while he's waiting for the match on the latent prints.”

“In the meantime, you should be thinking about who you pissed off.” Montana grinned. “Maybe it's one of the terrorists we ousted in the Honduras operation.”

Sawyer frowned. “If that were the case, why target only me? You'd think whomever was mad about how that went down would go after all of us.”

Montana scratched his chin. “That's the case for every one of our missions. It doesn't make sense. Why would anyone pick on only you? What makes you so different?”

Sawyer could think of one thing, but he didn't mention it, because it didn't seem to have any bearing on what was happening in Cancún. Still, he would make a call as soon as he left the boat and his friends.

“For whatever reason they want Sawyer,” Duff said, “he can't just walk around in the open. He's tall enough that he would stick out in a crowd. He might as well wear a target on his back. A good assassin with the right tools could easily take him out, even at a distance.”

Sawyer's lips twisted. “Thanks, Duff. You're not helping my peace of mind.”

“I'm just saying, you can't walk around Cancún without protection.” Duff's brows dipped. “At least our assassin has lost his high-powered rifle.”

“What you need is a flak jacket. I bet Lance has one in his stash of equipment he brought along with him,” Montana offered. He glanced around the boat. “Or we might find one on the boat. It has a better arsenal than we have back on base. Wait here. I'll see if I can find a vest.” Montana headed for the back of the boat, where they'd found rifles, handguns and explosives in an arsenal that would make Gunny salivate. Their gunnery sergeant back in Mississippi made it his purpose to obtain the best weapons available on the market for their unit and missions. He'd find everything he could ask for here.

“And I'd hide a flack vest under my loose-fitting Saints jersey?” Sawyer darted a downward glance at the shirt Jenna had loaned him. “I don't think so. We have to find the assassin before he finds me in the crosshairs of whatever weapon he can get his hands on.”

Montana shook his head. “The sooner we can get back to Lance with this case, the sooner we can get him started hacking into the resort security system.”

“Right.” Sawyer glanced around. “I don't suppose Natalie's boss would mind if I camped out here while I'm waiting for an assassin to put a bullet through me.”

“I'm sure it would be all right.” Duff stared at Sawyer. “How do you want us to go about getting Jenna's fingerprints to compare against those Lance finds on the case and its contents?”

Montana grinned. “I can drop by her room and get them.”

Sawyer bristled. “Like hell you will.”

“Remember, you can't just waltz in and out of the resorts. You're a wanted man.”

“I got out, didn't I?” Sawyer pulled the ball cap over his head and stuck the sunglasses on his nose. “Besides, in Jenna's hotel, I'm her newlywed husband, Mr. Jenna Broyles.”

Both Duff and Montana grinned.

“I've heard of love at first sight,” Duff drawled, “but marriage at first sight? Isn't that taking it a bit far?”

Sawyer's chest tightened at the thought of being Jenna's husband for real. He could do worse. She was pretty, spunky and smart. He loved her dark red hair and the way it felt when he sifted his fingers through the silken strands. “Had to come up with a good cover, going up and down the elevator with her. And she's got the bridal suite.”

Duff's forehead wrinkled. “Why?”

Sawyer grunted. “Jilted at the altar. She was supposed to be here on her honeymoon, but the bastard didn't know how good he had it.”

“Wow. Crappy way to spend your honeymoon,” Montana said.

“Yeah. And now, she could be a target if the gunman learns she was the one to find his case.”

“You think there's a chance he'll connect her to his missing case?”

“As much of a chance as we have to find him,” Duff said, his steady gaze locking with Sawyer's.

“I didn't want to have to go back to Jenna's resort.”

“You don't want her to end up collateral damage.”

“Exactly.” But now that he'd talked himself into going back to the resort and Jenna, he wanted to be there immediately. His belly tightened at the thought of the dangers she might face because of him. “I'm heading back. Let me know what Lance finds.”

“Will do.” Duff stuck out a hand.

Sawyer took it and shook.

Duff pulled him into a man hug and then let him go. “Later.”

“You bet.”

With the cap on his head and the shades across on his nose, Sawyer looked like any other tourist who happened to be a New Orleans Saints football fan. He'd have to figure out how to sneak back into his room without being seen to grab a change of clothes. In the meantime, he wanted to get back to Jenna. Now.

Even though they'd found her case before the assassin did, Sawyer didn't have the level of confidence he needed to think Jenna was perfectly safe.

Montana and Duff dropped the case into the beach bag and climbed the steps to exit the boat's hold, leaving Sawyer there alone. Before he went back to Jenna's hotel, he had a call to make.

He touched his smartphone and brought up his emergency contacts, then hit the number at the bottom of the list. The last person he wanted to call when he was in trouble. But this...relationship...was the only striking difference between his teammates and himself that might hold a clue to why he was being targeted.

The line rang three times before someone answered. “Sawyer. Thank goodness, it's you.”

The tension in the voice on the other end of the line made Sawyer tighten his hand on the phone. “Senator, have you got anything you want to tell me? Anything I need to know?”