Free SEAL’s Desire by Elle James Page A

chin. “I’d say it’s starting.”
    Remy stared across the table at Nacho, while following Mitchell’s every move in his peripheral vision.
    She wrapped her arms around Rocco’s neck from behind and bent to nibble on his ear. Her actions appeared as if she was pushing for favor with the man.
    He lifted his hand and cupped her face, turning to kiss her.
    “Fucking bitch,” the female voice sounded from the stage in front of them.
    Remy turned toward the stripper who’d been introduced as Candi.
    She stopped dancing, her gaze locked on Rocco and Mitchell, her brown eyes narrowed into slits, her fists clenched at her sides. Before the song ended, she spun and marched off the stage. A moment later she appeared on the barroom floor, striding toward the raised seating area.
    The woman could be trouble. Remy angled his chair toward the action.
    Irish clapped his hands together, a grin spreading across his face. “I believe we’re about to witness a cat fight, if that chick has anything to say about it.”
    Big Bird nodded. “My money’s on Mitchell. I saw her take Brewsky down one night when they were wrestling.”
    “Yeah, she’s tough, but Candi looks like she can hold her own,” Nacho said.
    Before Candi reached the group of people in the raised seating area, Rocco stood, glanced at his goons and jerked his head toward the advancing woman.
    The two bouncers stepped between her and Rocco.
    She said something, but the music was loud enough to drown her words.
    Rocco ignored her, held out his arm for Mitchell and led her toward a door near the side of the stage.
    Don’t leave . Muscles tense, Remy started to rise.
    Irish stuck out his arm, pushing him back into his seat. “You gotta let her work this operation from her angle. For all you know, she’s just getting ready for her turn on stage.”
    “What if he tries something?” Remy asked, his muscles tensing.
    Irish patted his shoulder. “I’ll go stand close to the door and listen for trouble.”
    “Why not me?” Remy tried again to push to his feet.
    Irish clapped a hand to Remy’s back and grinned like he was telling a pretty funny joke while he spoke through tightly stretched lips. “If you get too close to his bodyguards, they might recognize you.”
    Remy shoved aside Irish’s hands. “I don’t care.”
    “Mitchell will care if you blow her operation. Her friend Kelli’s life is at stake here,” Big Bird, always the logical one, reminded him.
    Remy spoke softly. “Swede, you getting any of this?”
    “The music is loud, but I’m getting most of it. I gather Mitchell is baiting the trap.”
    With herself.
    Remy closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to the heavens. Derek, if you’re up there, keep an eye on Mitchell. When he opened his eyes, he let go of the breath he’d been holding. “Okay. I’ll wait.”
    A woman stepped out on stage and announced, “Please give Dixie Lee and CC Hart a hand as they entertain you to the tune of Hold It Against Me by Britney Spears.”
    Only one stripper pranced out on the stage, her bleached platinum blond hair bouncing around her shoulders. Strobe lights kicked in, as the stripper gyrated to the music her movements erotic, sensuous and disjointed as the stage blinked dark then light. She clung to the dance pole, sliding up and down. And she wasn’t Mitchell.
    “Didn’t the woman announce that CC Hart would be dancing this set?” Remy asked, leaning forward.
    “Yeah. She did.” Fish pointed to the woman who’d announced the act. She’d turned around and was talking to someone near the curtain.
    “Gator, looks like you won’t have to wait long,” Swede said. “Mitch’s location just moved out into the alley behind the club.”
    Remy shot to his feet along with the rest of the team, gesturing as he moved. “Fish, Nacho take the front. Circle around the side in case they come around that way. Big Bird and Tuck take the side exit and swing around to the back. Dustman, Irish, you’re with