Pleasing Her SEAL

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

* * *

THE HAND OVER her mouth woke Maddie up, the unexpected contact followed by the shock of a body pressed against her startling her when she’d gone to bed alone. She lived through a moment of sickening, adrenaline-laced panic before she realized who exactly was holding her.

“It’s Mason,” he growled unnecessarily. “No noise, okay? Nod your head for me if you understand.”

Something wasn’t right. That was what she understood, but she nodded, because, hello? The whole hand-over-the-mouth thing wasn’t her kind of kink. And if it wasn’t kink, she had a bigger problem. Besides, while it was clearly Mason looming over her, Mason who’d come uninvited into her room, he wasn’t her Mason. He looked different, harder, and it wasn’t just the black and green paint streaking his face.

“Is this some kind of game?” She tossed her laptop to the side, rolling instinctively away from him. “Because I think we already said everything we needed to say.”

“We have to go,” he whispered, not looking at her. Instead, he scanned the corners of her villa as if he expected something. “We need to get you off the island.”

“I believe I said, ‘Let’s have a future together!’ And you said, ‘Over my dead body!’ Or something way too close to that. You may have dressed it up with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ and the ‘I’m not looking for a relationship right now’ speeches, but that’s what I heard.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, his harsh gaze swinging back to her face.

Oh, she was looking, all right—and nothing added up. This wasn’t paintball attire, and something was seriously wrong. A noise outside the villa interrupted her crazy thoughts. She wasn’t sure what it was—housekeeping cart, falling coconut, demented parrot—but Mason pulled some ninja stealth move, rolling her off the bed and beneath him. His hand came back over her mouth, his body tensing as he raised his weapon at her door. His weapon. Holy shit. He had a gun. He braced his free hand above her head, his fingers curled around the stock, where she could see dirt and a smear of something red. Blood?

“Mason—” She jumped, suddenly afraid, her lungs closing up. Who was he?

“Shh,” he whispered roughly against her hair. “Breathe for me. Let’s see if we’ve got company.”

She hadn’t thought her heart could beat triple time, unless she was in heart-attack territory, but the sensation of his large, familiar-and-yet-not body pressing her down into the floor had her all but hyperventilating.

Dark brown eyes stared intently into hers. “Can you stay put for me? Do you need your inhaler?”

He had a gun. She’d agree to anything. When she nodded, he rolled off her and headed for the front of the villa. That worked for her. She lunged for the bedside phone. He froze, head swinging toward her, but the business end of the gun didn’t budge from her front door.

“Don’t,” he warned, as if he was used to giving orders and being obeyed. Too bad for him that requests from madmen didn’t count. Lifting the receiver off the base, she punched the button for security. Nothing. Nada. Not a dial tone, not a friendly voice.

He strode toward her, his face hard and closed off as he took in her panic and her finger banging away on the button for security. “Grab your purse. Your passport. Anything critical that you need that fits in a small bag.”

Hell. No.

“Who are you?” she asked in a strangled voice. Did the bathroom door have a lock? Could she beat him there? “And don’t give me the line about the chef again. If you’re a chef, you’re bat-shit crazy.”

“I’m a US Navy SEAL,” he growled. “Cut me some slack here. I can’t go into details, but I’m here on an op and there’s a credible threat against you. We need to move you somewhere safe.”

“If you’re going to sell me a bridge next, I’m not buying.”

Naturally, he advanced. Back down wasn’t part of Mason Whoever-He-Was’s vocabulary, any more than concede was in hers. She flung up a hand.

“Stop right there,” she ordered.

He laughed. A harsh, guttural, grunting sound, but the bastard laughed at her.

* * *

“MADDIE—”

She snarled at him and he actually backed up a step. “Yesterday I apparently proposed marriage to a total stranger. I’d like to recover from my humiliation alone, please.”