Free SEAL Under Siege (Men of Valor) by Liz Johnson

Tristan explained. “He’s the senior chief.”
    She lifted a hand above her head. “The really tall one?”
    Ash nodded. “Yes. That’s him.” A tender smile broke through her frown. She never could stay mad at Matt. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Staci. I’m glad you’re safe. I know firsthand how good these guys are.”
    The memory his sister alluded to hit him like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath. Yet another time his work as a SEAL meant he hadn’t been there to protect someone he loved. He was just thankful that recovery from an injury had meant that Matt was still stateside at the time, and that he’d been able to keep Ashley safe. And, incidentally, fall in love with her.
    “Firsthand?”
    With a flippant wave of her hand—like her kidnapping and capture by a man with no respect for life hadn’t taken years off her brother’s and husband’s lives—Ash smiled. “Oh, sometime I’ll tell you about it. But right now, I’m starving. Are you hungry? It’s time for my second breakfast.”
    “Second breakfast?” Staci’s head tilted to the side.
    Ashley laughed. “Like every pregnant woman, one breakfast simply won’t do. It’s only fair, really, I am eating for two—each of us should get our own meal.” Without hesitation she ushered her guest into the kitchen and began pulling leftovers from the fridge. Homemade pizza and lasagna. Apples and peanut butter. Blueberries and yogurt.
    She may not have been the one keeping his house clean, but his refrigerator had never been so well stocked. Even if she sometimes mixed her foods into the strangest concoctions he’d ever seen.
    Ever the hostess, Ash pointed toward one of the tall stools at the countertop. “Why don’t you take a seat, and you can fix yourself a plate while Tristan takes your bag to the spare room?”
    Staci caught his gaze, and he offered a quick smile that he hoped reassured her before following his sister’s orders. Matt had made him promise not to argue with his sister. Don’t let her blood pressure go up. It’s not good for her or the baby. Keep her stress low and the baby cooking until I get back, Matt had said just before thumping Tristan on the shoulder and boarding a transport for the exclusive demolition and explosives training.
    He dropped Staci’s bag in the room on the second floor next to Ashley’s and bounded down the stairwell.
    He’d run down another set of stairs just two weeks before. Only that time there had been another hand clutched in his.
    He stared at his tingling palm, all the memories from the night of the rescue racing through his mind. Staci had clung to him, holding on for everything she was worth, following his instructions without complaint. Even when he’d swung her up to his shoulder, she hadn’t fought him. And he knew how uncomfortable that position was.
    And then she’d tracked him down. She’d gone around every roadblock until she’d found the help that she needed.
    The girl sure had some spunk, and his smile grew wider.
    As he reached the last step, he paused before walking into the kitchen.
    Ashley’s voice carried to him without pause. “How’s your apple?”
    “Very good. Thank you.”
    “You’re quite welcome.” A smile laced Ash’s voice. He’d heard it before, every time she talked with one of the women at the battered women’s shelter where she worked. “May I ask how you ended up in Lybania?”
    Staci cleared her throat, and it sounded like she picked up a cup and plunked it back on the counter before responding. “A couple from my church, Judy and Hank, had been over there doing medical care, and they spoke one Sunday about the work they were doing, helping kids get the education, care and love they needed.”
    There was a long pause, and he leaned against the wall, holding his breath, hoping she would go on.
    She did. “My boyfr—” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat before taking her story in a different direction. “My life was in