A SEAL for Christmas (All I want for Christmas is... 2)

“Seriously?” Heath stared at him flatly. “Stop being a stubborn ass. Aileen been missing for a few weeks now. Every day that goes by the trail gets colder. We can use all the help we can get right now. Go ahead and call your father, Shayma. Then let me know once the meeting’s set up.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Murphy sat forward and glared at Heath. “This is my sister we’re trying to save here. Don’t I have any say?”

“After the way you looked ready to murder that poor man earlier today, I’d say you could use some time to unwind,” Shayma said. “I studied psychology in college and you showed all the classic signs of impending violence out there on the sidewalk earlier. Agitation, increased physical tension, hostile stares.”

Heath snorted. “Like the one he’s giving me right now? Don’t worry, I’ll kick his ass before he ever leaves that chair.”

Murphy took a deep, calming breath and prayed for patience. “I was trying to apprehend that man for questioning. He knows something about my sister and I damned well intend to find out what it is.”

“And I just told you I have a way to get the same information without resorting to smashing anyone’s face in.” She patted his hand, and fresh awareness zinged through him despite his overloaded nervous system. “Don’t worry, I’m trying to help. We’ll make a good team.”

“Oh, I’d worry all right, if I was you,” Daveed said, shaking his head. “Last time I heard those words come out of her mouth was the day my parents forced us to get engaged. You’ve seen how that turned out.”

“Well, I think it turned out perfect,” Mel said, leaning over to kiss Daveed on the cheek. “Everything always works out for the best in the end.”

“Ah, my darling optimist,” Daveed said, cupping her cheeks and kissing her sweetly. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

No holding back the eye roll this time. Murphy swallowed hard to keep his lunch down and gave Heath a deadpan look. “See what you started? I hope you’re happy.”

“Not yet. But I will be. As soon as we figure out what happened to Aileen.”

At the mention of his sister, worry overtook the resistance in his system and he slumped back in his seat. The last thing he wanted to do was have Shayma more involved in his life than she already was. She was a distraction he didn’t need, on so many different levels. But if she had access to information that might bring Aileen home again, he couldn’t turn his back on that—no matter how badly he might wish to. “Fine. But you don’t make a move unless you run it by me first, understand?”

Shayma smiled slowly, a glint of heat and knowing in her dark eyes. “Understood. I’ll call my father tonight after Mel and I get back to the Plaza.”

2

The next day, Murphy sat in his sister Aileen’s apartment alone. He was still waiting to hear back from Heath about the meeting Shayma’s dad was supposed to be arranging for them with the EnKor people and his nerves were on edge. He couldn’t seem to sit still and his neck felt stiff from tossing and turning all night. Funny enough, it wasn’t the impending meeting that was getting to him, it was the woman arranging it.

Thoughts of Shayma had kept his mind racing on an endless loop all night. The way she’d felt pressed against him out on that sidewalk when she’d purposely crashed into him—all soft curves and heated flesh. The way she’d smelled when she’d leaned in close to him at the table yesterday—cinnamon and cloves and sinful desire. The way she’d looked at him with more than casual interest lurking in the depths of her dark, doe eyes. Lord help him, it was enough to make a lesser man drop to his knees and beg for mercy. Good thing Murphy wasn’t a lesser man.

He took a seat at his sister’s desk and booted up her laptop, hoping to find a new email lead or maybe something they’d missed the first fifty times they’d checked the dumb thing, but there was nothing new.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

He sighed and let his head fall back, stared at the white ceiling above then scrubbed a hand over his face. He and the guys had been over this place so many times over the past few weeks there couldn’t have been an inch of it left unturned. Yet the only thing they’d found so far had been the address of the building downtown that housed EnKor Corporation, the clean energy company, along with some fancy law firm that Murphy’s gut told him had to be a front for something. But what?

Damn it. That was why he needed to talk to Frank Kent so badly. Guy seemed more squirrelly than the ISIS spies he used to interrogate. And Murphy had a feeling that if anyone would’ve seen or heard anything about Aileen’s disappearance, it would be Kent. But EnKor’s CEO had remained as elusive as a frigging unicorn these days. Fuck. If it hadn’t been for Shayma and her meddling the day before, he might’ve finally had his chance to talk to him and—

A knock on the door jarred him back to reality and set his instincts on high alert.

Who the hell could that be? Heath and Daveed both had keys and they’d talked to the doorman downstairs and told him not to let anyone up without notifying them first. On edge, he checked the Glock he kept in the shoulder holster beneath his black leather jacket, then strode over to the door.

One glance through the peephole had his muscles tensing. Not from danger, though.

From pure unadulterated—and unacceptable—lust.

Shayma.

How the fuck had she even known where his sister’s apartment was? The answer came as quickly as the question had. Heath. Shit.

She raised her hand to knock again, but he yanked the door open before she could.

His scowl was meant to intimidate and discourage. “What do you want?”

She just smiled in that irritatingly endearing way of hers and held up a six-pack of his favorite Goose Island Ale. That had to be courtesy of Heath too, the traitor. “I come bearing gifts. And good news.”

Reluctantly, he stepped back to allow her inside, exhaling hard as he checked the hallway then closed the door behind her. “It’s a little early for booze, isn’t it?”