SEAL in Charge Read online

  When her boss turned to her and nodded for her to answer, she glanced back at Silas and shook her head. “No. In fact, it’s been a little quieter than normal.”

  Silas frowned. “How so?”

  “We usually hear hatred about Americans and their capitalism and freedom, but today we only picked up one or two snippets.”

  “How many do you hear on a normal day?” Archer asked.

  She spread her hands palms up. “In the double digits, at least.”

  Those gorgeous, gray eyes of his narrowed. “So, what does the quiet tell you?”

  “Either someone is being careful not to bring attention to themselves, or it’s just an off day, which does happen,” she added.

  Silas leaned closer to the table. “And what do you think about today’s silence? What does your gut tell you?”

  Pleased that the head of the DHS Secret Division—Bone Frog Command—wanted her opinion, Sandy held the man’s gaze and lifted her chin. “That the silence overseas is just silence.”

  “Why do you think that?” he prompted.

  “Because I feel the threat is already here. In the city,” she stated her fears. “We need to concentrate our efforts here. It’s where we’ll find the chatter about the bank now. In fact, we already have.”

  “How so?” Silas asked again.

  “We detected an uptick in the phrase ‘Federal Reserve Bank’ in the city’s chatter this morning,” she replied.

  An increase like that was never good. And even though there were several Federal Reserve Banks throughout the city, only one housed the world’s gold reserve. The Federal Reserve Bank of New York. If gold went missing, it could destabilize nations.

  She noted a slight stiffening in Archer’s posture, which increased the pull of material across his broad shoulders and messed with her pulse.

  Her attraction to this man was going to make her coveted first joint assignment a tough one. Especially after having read his file last night.

  As per protocol, her boss had given her Ret. SEAL Commander Archer Malone’s file to provide insight to her new temporary boss. It’d increased her appreciation of the seasoned SEAL. For every mission noted, she knew there were others not listed. Her chest had tightened immeasurably at the thought—and at the thought of her son seeing and experiencing such horrors while slowly building a file of his own.

  But it was what he’d always wanted to do and worked hard to obtain, things she could relate to and would never interfere. She’d raised Brian to be a forward thinker. To be strong, compassionate, and an advocate for the underdog. He was on his own now, and she was going to have to step back and let him live his life...and worry about him in private—every hour of every day.

  Pushing thoughts of Brian aside, she refocused on what her boss was explaining to her new boss.

  “We’ve increased the bandwidth and added more manpower,” Dave was saying as they started to rise to their feet. “So, we’ll alert you of the leads that need investigating.”

  Archer nodded. “Roger that. I’m going to head down to Liberty Street to get the lay of the land.”

  She gathered her laptop and reports she hadn’t even needed. “Give me ten minutes to secure this and I’ll be good to go.”

  “Wait.” He frowned, pushing his chair in. “You’re going out in the field?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “I thought you were my point of contact here.”

  Oh, boy. She smiled, despite the sinking feeling that he was not going to like what she had to say. “No. I’m hitting the streets with you.”

  Chapter Four

  Archer swallowed back a curse while his heart rocked in his chest. “Are you a trained agent? Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

  Clutching the laptop to her chest, she lifted a brow and appeared ready to reply when her boss jumped in to sing her praises.

  “Oh, it’s all good,” Webster rushed to say. “Sandy completed special agent training and graduated top of her class.” A wide smile crossed the man’s face and his chest puffed out. “She did our department proud.”

  The woman walked around the table to where he stood with Silas, near the door. “I know how to shoot a gun. I even have a permit to carry. And before you ask, yes...I’ve been out in the field. So, don’t worry. You don’t have to be gentle with me. I’m not a virgin.”

  Son-of-a...

  His pulse tripped, then raced at top speed. Damn...she was lethal. He heard a quiet chuckle next to him. Silas, the bastard. This wasn’t funny. It wasn’t Silas putting Sandy in harm’s way. It was him.

  How the hell had he missed all this in her file?

  “It wasn’t in my file.” She smiled.

  Christ. Was she a mind reader, too?

  “Homeland likes to keep some of us off the books,” she said, as if that would make him feel better.

  It did not.

  She divided her attention between him and Silas. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hinder the operation. I promise you, I can hold my own.”

  Of that, he had no doubt. What concerned him was his need to protect her. What if it interfered with the mission? This was not good.

  “Besides,” Webster said, cupping his shoulder, “you’re a former SEAL. You’ll keep Sandy safe.”

  His insides twisted and a weight suddenly pressed down on his shoulders. Not every mission went off without a hitch. In fact, most never went as planned. And some garnered casualties and even death, no matter how well-trained the team was, or how prepared.

  “Dave, come on. What have I told you?” Sandy set her free hand on her hip and stared at her boss. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

  That had been in her file.

  Archer knew she’d been an only child of older parents who’d both passed before she was eighteen. She lived in foster care until then, and shortly afterward, she met Nate Vickers.

  “True.” Webster pushed the glasses up his nose and grinned. “But it doesn’t hurt to have someone watch your back.”

  That was also true. And Archer would have Sandy’s six. He’d never let anything happen to her, no matter what went down.

  She met his gaze and patted her laptop. “I’ll meet you in reception. I just have to take care of this first.”

  He walked with the two men, only half listening to their conversation, his mind on his job. Establishing the possibility of viable threats took top priority. And if so, then identifying the culprits, tracking them down to take them down, came next. He might pull in more than the two Knight agents from Atlantic City. Jameson also employed several more of his former SEALs down in D.C. If needed, they’d be a phone call away. It would depend on any other new developments. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Sandy wasn’t going to work safely in her office behind a computer, as he’d originally thought.

  And try as he might, he couldn’t stop his brain from imagining the beauty brandishing a garter holster with a gun underneath that sexy, damn skirt of hers.

  The weight pressing on his shoulders shifted south.

  Damn. He knew instinctively, his life was never going to be the same.

  “Okay,” Sandy said, approaching with a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. It pulled her shirt tighter across her ample breasts, sending heat to the bulge forming behind his zipper. “I’m ready.”

  He wasn’t. Not by a long shot. But, he was a SEAL, and great at improvising.

  With the receptionist and the three visitors she was helping within earshot, along with workers passing them to get from one hall to another, he deemed the area too crowded for conversation and just nodded to her instead.

  During the elevator ride to the lobby with Silas, Sandy, and two other men who’d stepped on with them, Archer shifted his stance and weighed his options. His team still had an analyst, but she was also another pair of “boots on the ground.” Experience had taught him it was always beneficial to have extra.

  The man in him wante
d to keep her locked up and safe, but the commander in him was pleased to have an extra gun.

  Halfway to the lobby, the elevator stopped, and the two men exited, leaving the three of them alone.

  When the doors closed, Sandy peered around him to look at his boss. “Mr. Branson,” she said, her voice sounding softer in the small confines of the elevator, and an unexpected shiver shot down his neck. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the impression you have another question for me.”

  His friend’s lips twitched. “You are correct. And astute. And please, call me Silas.”

  “Silas.” She smiled. “What is it you want to know?”

  For a split second, a devious expression appeared on Silas’ face, reminding Archer of the old Crash persona from the past, but it disappeared so fast he must’ve imagined it. “Would you be able to take Archer back to Jersey tonight? Or should I send the chopper back for him later?”

  That rat bastard son-of-a-bitch...

  “I’ll make sure he gets home safely,” she replied, smile evident in her tone.

  He glanced at Sandy to see for himself, and the sight of her biting her lip to keep from laughing canceled his annoyance and ignited something a hell of a lot more dangerous.

  Hunger.

  Was this how it was always going to be? Could he not look at the woman without wanting to strip her naked and lose himself inside her? Whoa. Where the hell had that thought come from? Damn. His attraction to Sandy was morphing at an exponential rate. And they’d only been around each other for an hour.

  He watched her smile slowly disappear, and the amusement in her eyes transform into an answering heat. Red flags immediately waved wildly in his head. Her response to him hit Archer in the solar plexus with the force of an invisible right hook.

  By the time the elevator reached the lobby, two things became perfectly clear.

  One—he was going to kill Silas.

  Two—he had no damn defense against Sandy’s attraction to him.

  If he dug deep, he could fight his own attraction to her...keep his thoughts and his hands to himself.

  But not if she didn’t want him to...

  When they exited the building, he buried those thoughts—deep—and shoved on his sunglasses. Sandy was doing something on her phone, so he turned to Silas and shook hands. “Give me a day or two and I’ll have a SITREP for you.”

  “A’ight.” His buddy nodded, glancing up and down the street, before his gaze returned, and he released his hand. “Watch your six.”

  After they said their goodbyes, Silas got in a taxi and disappeared.

  Sandy touched his arm. “This is our Uber,” she said, waving her phone toward a silver sedan pulling up to the curb.

  So that was what she was doing on her phone. Nodding, he eyed the driver while he stepped ahead to open the door for her then following her inside. He wasn’t a fan of this system. Too easily infiltrated, but then again, the same could be said for taxis.

  “I need to head home first, so I can change.” She smiled apologetically.

  Aware that the driver kept glancing at them in the rearview mirror, he smiled back at her. “That’s fine.”

  It would give them a chance to talk in private to get questions out of the way and form a game plan for the day.

  Besides, he was curious to see her place. If he remembered his city geography correctly, the address in her file was about six blocks over from his mother’s house. And when the car pulled into a wrap-around drop-off in front of a six-story, well-maintained, brick apartment building, thirty-three minutes later, he discovered his estimation had been correct. She lived in the vicinity of his mother.

  Despite the fact that a New York block was huge, and that over two million people lived in Queens County, it was possible that the two women had crossed paths at some point.

  “Thanks.” Sandy tipped the driver before he had the chance.

  He exited the car and held out his hand to help her from the back seat.

  “Thanks,” she repeated, her voice a lot softer and breathless, and his body responded to the sound with a round of goosebumps.

  Silently weathering them, he nodded and forced himself to release her. “This is a nice place.” He went on to tell her about his mother living nearby.

  She glanced up at him, both brows raised. “Really? Wow.” Then she narrowed her eyes and shook a finger at him. “Don’t you dare leave the city without paying her a visit.”

  He chucked and used a finger to draw a cross over his heart. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Nodding, she smiled. “Small world...although I only moved here three years ago. Brian and I used to live in a house in the Crescent area, but once he joined the Navy and completed basic, I realized it was just too empty—too lonely—with just me, so I started looking at apartments. Brian picked this one out. He checked the security and read all the reviews. Even questioned the residents, finally deeming the place safe enough and felt better leaving me alone,” she said, using a key fob to activate the sliding doors.

  “I don’t blame him.” Shoving his sunglasses in his shirt pocket, he walked inside with her and nodded to the man behind the concierge desk who greeted Sandy by name.

  Once inside the elevator, she swiped her fob and hit the button for the fourth floor then turned to face him. “I expected to be on a waiting list for a few years but got lucky. I moved in just before Brian left for BUD/S, thankfully. The last thing I wanted was him worrying about me instead of concentrating on his training and then whatever missions he completed after being assigned to your team.”

  He nodded again. “I tried to get my mother to move into a building like this after my dad and brother died, but she’d insisted she wanted to move to another house. It was a smaller one, though. And near her sister.” He’d hated the thought of her being alone, but he’d respected her wishes.

  “Sounds like it was the right decision for her.” She smiled at him, and he was happy to hold her gaze and enjoy the rest of the short ride in silence...and the way color rushed up into her face, deepening the blue of her eyes.

  The elevator dinged, and she blinked, and he followed her into the hall surprised to find it busy with activity. On the left, at the end, two little girls played with a dollhouse, and at the end on the right, a little boy and girl laughed as they chased each other, while an elderly lady sat on a chair in the middle of the hall, smiling at them.

  “That’s their grandmother,” Sandy told him quietly before greeting the woman. “Hi, Mary.”

  “Hi, Sandy. You’re home early.” Holding onto the wall, the woman rose to her feet and thrust out her other hand to him. “Who do you have with you?”

  He carefully shook the woman’s boney hand. “My name’s Archer. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” She smiled, nodding toward Sandy, who was opening a door further down and across the hall. “You must be special, she’s never brought a man home before.”

  An unreasonable shaft of pleasure shot through him at that knowledge. He smiled back and thanked the lady, then walked toward Sandy, sending her a warning look when she appeared about to correct the woman. Better for others to think they were a couple, rather than working together, especially given Sandy’s occupation.

  Unless her neighbors weren’t aware of it.

  Either way, it was a discussion best held in private. Feeling Mary’s gaze still on them, he stopped next to Sandy and set a hand on her back. She fumbled with the doorknob a second before twisting it open.

  “Got it.” She smiled, and he followed her inside. “Sorry about that.” She moved out of his touch and set her laptop bag on a nearby credenza. “Mary’s nice, but nosey.”

  He’d seen too many “nice” people do bad things to give the older lady the benefit of the doubt. “Does she know what you do for a living?”

  Sandy shook her head. “Other than Brian, no one knows. Everyone here thinks I work with computers.” Her face was still flushed, and he was finding it hard to look a
way. “It’s hard for you to find the good in people, isn’t it?”

  Taken back by her question and astuteness, he raised a brow. “Most of the time.”

  “Given what you’ve seen, it’s a wonder you’re not completely jaded.” For several beats, her gaze bore into his, making him feel things he’d never expected, like empathy, understanding, and an acceptance...of what, he had no idea. “Make yourself at home,” she said, changing the subject with a wave of her hand at her open concept living room kitchen. “I’ll change into something more touristy and be right back.”

  Before he could reply, she disappeared into a room down the hall. He glanced around the spacious apartment, surprised by the size. He estimated the square footage to be more than his cottage, but the home was just as comfortable. Nothing was out of place, and yet it felt warm and inviting. His gaze lingered on the overstuffed furniture, and a gorgeous, big screen TV over a large fireplace. Archer had no trouble imagining Brian kicking back on the couch to watch a ballgame. Hell, he wouldn’t mind doing that himself. He blew out a breath and his shoulders relaxed, and when his gaze fell to a row of photos on the mantle, he walked over to them.

  Brian...at different ages, and some with his mom. She hadn’t changed much, other than becoming more beautiful. Warmth spread across his chest, and he rubbed at it while wondering what the hell had happened to his edge?

  “I’m ready,” she said from behind him.

  When he turned around to find her in a pair of curve-hugging jeans, a gray T-shirt with Minnie Mouse on it, and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, he found the answer to his question. Sandy was what happened to his edge. He literally felt his whole body soften at the sight of her.

  What the hell?

  “What’s wrong?” She frowned and glanced down at her apparel. “Trust me, I’ve seen many people come to the city in clothes like these.”

  “It’s fine,” he said, forcing his stupor away. “You look good.”

  Shit.

  That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

  Her gaze softened and color made another appearance in her cheeks. “Thanks. I’ll...ah, order another Uber.”