Free HOT SEAL Lover (HOT SEAL Team - Book 2) by Lynn Raye Harris

rattled her so badly she had to run away rather than face it.
    She’d felt drawn to him in a way she simply couldn’t handle. It had been too soon. She couldn’t trust him—couldn’t trust herself. She’d needed distance.
    Yet here she was, facing him after six months and feeling like someone had ripped out her guts. It wasn’t easier seeing him now, and it should be. She should be completely unaffected.
    She was far from unaffected.
    She heard voices and figured Paul must have arrived. She shrugged the abaya over her clothing, straightened the hijab, and jerked open the door.
    Remy looked even more annoyed if that were possible. Paul was there, also looking annoyed. Seeing the two men standing together, she wondered how on earth she’d ever believed Paul was capable of being her bodyguard on this trip.
    He wasn’t precisely fat, but he wasn’t toned either. He looked like one of those guys who worked out but still ate chili dogs and cheese fries. A bit of a gut, but with big arms and a thick neck. Like he’d been a football player at one point in his life.
    He was shorter than Remy by about six inches, which made her realize just how tall Remy was. Six-four or six-five at least.
    “You should have been here with her the instant you learned about the airport.” Remy’s voice was tight.
    Paul puffed up his chest like a rooster. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, asshole, and I won’t tell you how to do yours.”
    She thought Remy might explode, but instead he just shook his head. “Motherfucker,” he said softly, “you have no idea what the hell I do. But I guarantee you it’s more before breakfast than you do in a month.”
    Paul puffed himself up again. “I’m an ex-Marine, buddy. I get it.”
    Remy took two long steps, cutting the distance between them.
    Paul reared back, bumping into a chair and nearly falling. “What the fuck?” he demanded.
    Remy grabbed him, spun him around, and at some point relieved him of the weapon he had holstered inside his jacket. After Remy checked the gun and shoved it into one of the many pockets in his vest, he looked at Paul in disgust.
    “It’s former Marine, dickhead, or simply Marine . Never ex. Don’t pretend to be something you aren’t. It’s an insult to all who’ve served.”
    Paul rubbed his wrist where Remy’d grasped it. Then he blew out a breath. “I tried to join up but didn’t pass the physical. I wanted to go, but they wouldn’t take me. So maybe I don’t have the right, but I wanted it.”
    Remy appeared to relax slightly at that unexpected bit of honesty. “Understood. But don’t claim it when you didn’t earn it. That’s not cool.”
    Remy turned to where Christina stood just outside the bathroom door. “You ready?”
    “I think so.”
    “Then let’s roll, kids. We’re going to meet up with my team and get the fuck out of here. All you have to do is keep up.”

10
    J esus , why had he volunteered to be the one to get Christina? His gut churned and he wanted to say about a million things to her. Things he wasn’t going to say because there was absolutely no point.
    She’d made it clear enough she wasn’t interested.
    Remy led the way to the stairs, sweeping the hall with his weapon at the ready. The hotel wasn’t under rebel control, but that wasn’t the point.
    His other teammates had fanned out to locate the rest of the people on the list, and they were meeting downstairs. Five individuals in all, six now with Paul, the not-quite-a-Marine bodyguard.
    Remy went into the stairwell, swept it for intruders, and then signaled Paul and Christina to follow. At least Paul waited for Christina to go first, putting her between the two of them. Remy didn’t like the guy, mostly because he hadn’t taken as good of care of Christina as he should have. Asshole should have had her out of here two hours ago at a minimum.
    But if he had, you wouldn’t have her now. You wouldn’t know she was safe.
    True.
    Maybe it would have been better