A SEAL's Fantasy Page 5

  He didn’t like it.

  He wished he could say the same about the woman in front of him.

  Her chestnut hair swept over strong cheekbones like a heavy curtain, ending at the sharp angle of her chin. She was tall, at least six foot in those heels, and all leg. All long, delicious leg encased in tight denim.

  Tall meant he could gaze straight into her eyes. She’d looked like a sexy goddess on stage, her eyes heavily made up, false eyelashes glittering with rhinestones and her lips a candy-apple red.

  But here, now, she looked even sexier.

  He knew women. Oh, boy, did he know women.

  So he knew that the only thing she had on her face might be a layer of moisturizer. No matter, she was great without it. Her skin glistened with just a hint of gold, her full lips were rosy and her huge green eyes were fringed with thick dark lashes.

  “So if you’re nobody’s errand boy, what are you doing here, bugging me with some message I don’t want to hear?” Those sloe eyes bland, she gave him a long look up, then down, as if she were assessing the goods. Since her expression didn’t change, it was hard to tell if she liked the view or not.

  Dominic didn’t know why that fascinated him so much. It wasn’t as if he expected to appeal to all women, but for the most part, they pretty much fell at his feet. Most offering any variety of promises—everything from sex to bearing his children to general worship. So this cloaked indifference was an interesting change.

  Intriguing.

  “I serve with Banks,” he told her, figuring that said it all.

  “Serve? Like, what? Drinks?” she asked, leaning against the wall and batting her eyelashes.

  First an errand boy and now a waiter? She was either lousy at reading people, or she was hot on giving him a bad time.

  His research said that their grandfather had been a Navy commander, that she’d grown up in Annapolis’s backyard and that her brother had been well on his way to graduating the Naval Academy with honors when she’d run away. So he figured she was all about the bad time.

  “Look...” She paused, arching one slender brow in question.

  “Castillo,” he filled in.

  “Look, Castillo. I don’t know what you want with this Banks guy, or what info you think you can get from me about him.” As if sensing that he’d been about to interrupt, she held up her palm and shook her head. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

  “I’m not here to get info, sweetheart. I’m here to protect you.”

  Damn. Dominic grimaced. What was with his mouth? He shouldn’t have said that. He was just here to keep an eye out, not to scare the poor woman. Then he thought of the message he’d gotten while waiting outside her building.

  Bad Ass says bad juju. Ugly on the move.

  It didn’t take much to decode that Brody was warning that things were going bad in Guatemala, they hadn’t gotten Banks out and Valdero’s men were likely to grab Banks’s sister as leverage.

  So maybe she should be a little scared. If that made her cautious, it was worth the info breach.

  For one second, he thought he’d gotten through—her brow creased, her eyes clouded and her lips pursed.

  Then she laughed in his face.

  “Protect me? From what? Big burly guys accosting me in the dark hall of my apartment building? News flash, Castillo, you’re the only trouble I’ve got in my life right now.”

  Her words were light, her tone amused. But Dominic knew how to read beneath the surface. He could tell that she’d had plenty of trouble before him and had probably handled it just fine.

  Still, handling a drunk or a jerk of a boyfriend was aeons away from facing down drug-running goons who specialized in body decoration via knives and fishhooks.

  Before he could tell her that in some form or another, he heard a noise in the hall.

  Lightning fast, he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the floor. At her quick inhalation, he slipped his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. He scanned the area. Four closed doors on the right, three on the left and a janitor’s closet at the end. He strode toward it, the kicking, squirming bundle in his arms not slowing him down at all. He regularly carried a backpack that weighed almost as much as she did. Although, granted, it didn’t try to bite him.

  He reached the closet, glad it was unlocked. Jimmying the lock would have required taking at least one hand off the woman. Instead, he shoved her into the small, cramped, dark space and pulled the door closed, but not all the way. He peered through the crack, watching as two thugs rounded the corner.

  Damn, talk about timing. Not for the first time in his life, Dominic gave thanks for whatever guardian angel was watching out for him.

  He glanced down at the thrashing handful of woman trying to bite his fingers. Her breasts pressed tight against his chest, a minor turn-on even through both of their jackets. Damn, she was the perfect height. Pulled close to his body, her face was level with his, so he had a good view of the fury coating it. Her eyes spit fire and promised a nasty enough retribution that he tightened his hold on the wrists he’d snugged into the small of her back.

  Power down, he warned his glands. Hot and horny was fine in the proper place and time. A closet with gun-toting goons outside looking for torture targets was neither.

  As much to keep them safe as to get her out of temptation distance from his lips, Dominic leaned down to press his mouth against her ear.

  “I’ll take my hand off your mouth if you promise to stay quiet,” he warned in a whisper. “Fair warning, you break the promise and someone is gonna end up hurt bad. Before you decide, take a look through that crack and check out your door.”

  Her glare didn’t dim, but she did stop thrashing and trying to bite him. Suspicion joining the fury in her eyes, she stared for another second before shifting her gaze to the crack of dim light floating between the wall and the edge of the door.

  He felt it the moment she saw them. She sucked in a breath, whether to scream or cuss didn’t matter. He pulled her back against his front, her ass snuggled up against his zipper and his cheek against hers. The move had a double payoff—she immediately stilled, and his dick was damned happy with the arrangement.

  “Quiet,” he whispered as she growled against his fingers when the goons finished busting the lock on her door with a swift boot to the hinge. It flew open with a crack. They didn’t care about quiet. Guys like that were used to doing and taking as they saw fit.

  One of the pair went inside while the other stood in the doorway, one hand inside his jacket. Since it was obvious he was gripping his weapon, Dominic figured Lara had clued in enough to the danger that he could slide his hand off her mouth. He didn’t pull it away completely, though.

  Just in case.

  But she didn’t scream. She didn’t even cuss. She just gave a low hiss, sounding like an infuriated snake ready to strike.

  “That’d be what I’m here to protect you from,” he said, his voice so low it was as if he breathed the words.

  Still cheek to cheek, she barely had to turn her head to look at him. Snapping with indignant fury, her eyes shifted from him to the door, as if asking what the hell he was going to do to protect her apartment.

  “They’re armed, I’m not,” he whispered. “My job is to keep you out of their hands, not to take them down.”

  “Pretty sure if you do the latter, the former is moot,” she whispered back.

  “No engagement.” Unless absolutely necessary. He’d keep that to himself, since he was sure her idea of necessary and his weren’t quite the same.

  Slowly, he’d like to think reluctantly, she pulled away. His body instantly went cold and a little lonely without her.

  Damn.

  He gave in to the torment for a second, closing his eyes, leaning his forehead against the edge of the door and giving a deep sigh.

  “We should call the police.”

  Her whisper pulled his attention back to the task at hand. He opened his eyes, peering through the cr
ack at her apartment, with its door swinging drunkenly, only hinged on the bottom.

  “Bet one of your neighbors already did,” he said. “The goons know it—they’ll be gone before the sirens get here.”

  “What...” Her words trailed off in a volley of cursing echoed out of her apartment. She puffed out a nervous breath, then finished, “Are they looking for?”

  Before Dominic had to decide how he wanted to answer that, the men reappeared in her door. After a quick consultation, they headed out. Neither bothered to look around, clearly not giving a damn about caution.

  Dominic, on the other hand, was careful to give them a solid sixty seconds to clear the hall before he eased the door open. Gesturing for Lara to wait, he paused only long enough to make sure she obeyed before leaving the closet. He didn’t bother with stealth as he strode down the hall. Valdero’s men weren’t looking for him.

  It only took a glance to be sure they were gone, but he still checked the stairs and landing, as well as the other hallways, always keeping the closet in sight.

  A minute later, sure they’d left the building, he returned to Lara’s apartment. What a mess. He shook his head before gesturing for her to join him.

  Lara stopped in her doorway, shock chased off her face by fury. Neither disguised the grief, though.

  Dominic grimaced. He knew he wasn’t responsible. He hadn’t brought the goons here. Still, he felt like shit over her expression.

  “Sweetheart, you’re safe. That’s what counts here.”

  She wet her lips, looking around the destruction that’d once been her apartment. It didn’t look as if she had a lot of possessions, which had probably accounted for the quickness of their search.

  “What were they looking for?” she wondered aloud.

  “You.”

  She bit her lip, eyeing a silk nightie in midnight-blue. He wondered how low on her hips that flimsy little thing fell and how much of her long, sexy legs it showed. He’d bet that was a beautiful sight. Shame it was currently shredded to pieces and anchored to her wall with what appeared to be one of her own steak knives. Her teeth snapped together with a loud click.

  “Why?”

  “To hurt your brother.” He kicked aside what’d once been her telephone on his way to the window. Before he glanced out, he shot her a look over his shoulder. “Oh, wait, you don’t have a brother.”

  She muttered something that sounded like once a pain in the ass, always a pain in the ass. But that was the only acknowledgment she gave his comment, instead crossing the room to check to see if the bathroom had been hit as hard.

  He didn’t need to hear her growl to know it had. This mess, it was a warning. Valdero’s goons would be thorough.

  “The cops are here,” he said needlessly, since the thin windows didn’t block out the sound of approaching sirens. “One of the goons is in the building across the street watching from the window.”

  “The police will protect me,” she said, her fingers twining together before she shook them loose as if trying to toss off the nerves. “Won’t they?”

  Castillo turned, his careful gaze assessing as they swept the room. Then he looked at her and shrugged.

  “Probably. But they don’t know what they’re up against, so whatever protection they offer might not be enough.”

  “You can tell them,” she insisted.

  “No can do, sweetheart. Missions are confidential. If my superiors want the cops filled in, they’ll do it. But I’ve gotta warn you, they’re out of the country for the next little while. A week, at least.”

  “But my apartment is trashed. They’ll have to wonder why. They’ll investigate.”

  He had to hand it to her—she didn’t get hysterical or dramatic. Her tone was even, her expression calm. But he could still see the anger and just a hint of fear. Since she was a woman, his instincts said to soothe and protect. But training and experience told him that she’d be safer if that fear stayed front and center. So he went for honesty instead.

  “Yep. Chances are the police will suggest you stay with a friend while they do.” He eyed her living room, then tugged on his lower lip. “So, got any friends with disposable furniture?”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “Okay.” Dominic knew perfectly well the best way to get a woman to do what he wanted was to agree with her. It didn’t put them in a friendlier mood, per se. Mostly it tended to make them suspicious, and they ended up doing things his way out of sheer contrariness.

  Was it any wonder he loved them?

  “I’d guess you have about three minutes to decide,” he told her, gauging the distance of the sirens and the traffic. “You wanna take your chances with the cops, deal with the results while they figure out what’s going on, that’s fine. You wanna come with me and be safe, grab your stuff. I’m outta here in two minutes.”

  Biting her lip, she glanced at the broken glass splintered across her floor, then at the window.

  “Would you be taking me to a Navy base?” she asked, apparently forgetting she didn’t know anything about what her nonexistent brother did for a living.

  He could. No matter how many connections Valdero’s drugs bought him, he couldn’t finance his goons onto a secured base. But Castillo’s role in this mission was still on the QT until the team notified him otherwise. Lane hadn’t said what they wanted Castillo to do with her. Just that her capture would make their rescue of Banks much, much more difficult.

  So...

  “Nope. No base. Somewhere closer, safer,” he replied. He glanced at his watch, and added, “You’re down to a minute, fifty seconds.”

  He could all but hear her teeth grinding from across the room.

  With a final glare, she snagged a duffel from the pile of her things next to the closet, then started grabbing clothes off the floor. The bag half-full, she hurried into the bathroom, where Dominic could hear her dumping toiletries in, too.

  As soon as she came out, he grabbed her arm.

  “Let’s go.”

  “I’ve still got forty-five seconds and I’m not done packing,” she said, yanking her arm free. She tossed the books she’d been carrying earlier into the bag, then ran into the kitchen. Dominic damn near dropped his chin when she pulled the oven door open and yanked out a covered casserole dish.

  “Sweetheart, I’ll feed you on the road. You don’t gotta bring food.”

  She ripped the lid off, pulled out a slim laptop and a bright orange plastic box, adding them to her bag, then zipping it tight.

  “I’m impressed. I didn’t know you could bake yourself a computer,” he mused, grabbing her arm tighter this time and pulling her toward the door.

  “This isn’t exactly a secure building,” she said, tilting her head toward the shattered door as they passed it. She looked as if she was going to try to close it, then grimaced when she realized it was pointless. Castillo knew the cops would board it up, order the landlord to replace it. What was left of her stuff was safe enough.

  “Stairs,” he ordered.

  As they clattered down the dimly lit stairwell, Castillo took stock.

  He wasn’t much on urban rescues. Most of his missions took place in the forest, the desert, the mountains. He was unarmed, had had time for only a minimal reconnaissance of Reno and had no backup.

  They hit the alley at a run, but he held up a cautioning hand when they approached the street. Carefully, he peered around the corner of the building.

  An ambulance was loading up a body bag.

  He grimaced.

  He’d wondered why the cops were taking so long to get to her apartment. Now he knew.

  “What...” Her question faded into horror as she looked around his shoulder. Suddenly shaking, Lara sank into his side in horror. He could feel her breath shaking as she sucked in a harsh lungful.

  “They did that?” she whispered.

  Castillo’s mental debate only lasted a second. Peace of mind wasn’t going to keep her safe. The truth might, though.

&nbs
p; “My guess is, yeah.”

  “We need to tell the police who they are, what they look like.” She took a fortifying breath, then started to step around him. Castillo grabbed her back, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her against his chest.

  His eyes locked on hers, he slowly shook his head.

  “Not a good idea. We can call in an anonymous tip later. After we’ve put some distance between us and them.”

  “But—”

  “Sweetheart, you’ve got a hot body and a gorgeous face. Let’s keep them safe, okay?”

  The expression on her face was pure stubborn resistance. Then she looked over his shoulder. Her bottom lip drooped in a sexy pout that made Dominic hungry for a taste, then she wrinkled her nose.

  “Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

  “Take it up with your brother. ’Cause, let me tell ya, I’m not too happy myself.”

  Nope, not happy at all. The last thing Dominic had ever imagined was having the hots for the sister of a guy he couldn’t stand. He knew all the rules between guys and girls, the varied nuances of dating a friend or coworker’s sister. But seducing the sister of a guy he hated?

  Dominic was clueless what the rules were there.

  He looked down into Lara’s big green eyes, then dropped his gaze to her full, seductive mouth.

  Yeah. He was sure that whatever the rules were, he wasn’t going to be able to resist breaking them.

  4

  TALK ABOUT A night going all to hell.

  First she was hit on in an alley, then two creeps destroyed her apartment. And now, adding insult to injury, she was stuck in a fancy-ass hotel where the bellboys made more money in a week than she did all month.

  Maybe, just maybe, she could deal with all of that. Maybe.

  But doing all of that with a guy whose dimples made her wet and whose smile gave her insides shivers? That was a bad, bad thing.

  Add the fact that his body was a work of fantasy. Big, hard, sculpted. She’d barely held back her moan of appreciation when he’d tossed off his jacket after they’d gotten to the room. Broad shoulders and biceps the size of bowling balls only made her wonder how big all his other, um, muscles might be. Big, she’d bet.