SEAL Strong Page 7

  The two men nodded and waved to each other as Silas remained prepared for anything.

  His mind turned to another foreign country on this very continent, and another gate that had been left purposely open by someone on the locally hired security force to allow the rebels inside.

  He’d spoken with some of the survivors of the Benghazi attack. He’d attended the funerals of those who didn’t survive. He knew too many inside facts about the ambush on the US Embassy compound to be complacent now.

  Silas should have insisted they set up their own security and not trust the summit organizers to handle it.

  They should have their own men manning that gate. And an overwatch team on the roof and another along the route from the airport to the hotel because even though killing the American delegation would be the cherry on top of the terrorist sundae, any one of the attendees of this damned summit could also be a target.

  Silas had a job to do and no tools with which to do it.

  Fuck! He hated this.

  Gripping the back of the seat in front of him, he was set on high alert as he watched and waited.

  He jumped at the unexpected touch on his shoulder. Spinning, he found Chavez’s face close to his.

  “Relax.”

  Silas shook his head. “You brought me along to protect you.”

  Chavez laughed. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Then why?” he asked, not believing his boss could be that naïve to think they were safe here.

  “You’re moving up in the agency and you should be here. And yes, it doesn’t hurt that you have experience traveling in the more volatile regions of the world, since so many of our party don’t. But you’re not here as a bodyguard for me or anyone else, Si. Remember that.”

  It was that experience that made it impossible for Silas to relax as Chavez ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” he said to appease his boss, but he had no intention of complying.

  Whatever the reason he’d been brought along, he wasn’t going to let his guard down or allow anything to happen. Not to anyone, and most certainly not to Maggie.

  Or to himself, either.

  He hadn’t survived what he had in the teams to be taken out now because he treated this trip to Chad like a fucking vacation.

  Silas stood the moment the shuttle came to a stop. He didn’t wait for the driver to open the sliding side door but instead opened it himself and stepped down to the ground.

  Motion caught his eye. He turned and saw Maggie behind him about to climb out.

  Silas held up one hand. “Stay.” He added, “Please. Just a minute until I make sure it’s clear.”

  She nodded and eased back into her seat. The woman next to her, in the spot against the window and unable to get out until Maggie did, leaned in and whispered something.

  Maggie replied and the woman’s eyes widened.

  Fine. If it took a whispered game of telephone to spread the word that he was a combat experienced operator to make his co-workers heed his advice, so be it.

  Keeping his traveling companions a little nervous and a lot more alert would only make his self-appointed job easier.

  Squinting against the blinding glare of the Sahara sun, Silas slipped on his sunglasses.

  Through the mirrored lenses, he glanced back toward the gate. It was closed once again. He turned toward the building.

  The hotel would serve both as accommodations for them and the meeting place for the summit, meaning that theoretically no one should have to leave the confines of the property until it was time to fly out.

  All he had to do was make sure it was well known that it wasn’t okay to go wandering around outside the wire—or the gate, as the case may be. No long walks to absorb local culture. No selfies with the sights. No trips to the nearby museums he saw listed on the website.

  He really should have addressed everyone. Without the authority to do so, he couldn’t lay down rules, but he could give advice. He probably should have done so during the drive while they were captive.

  Now it was too late. Pivoting back toward the shuttle he saw everyone had unloaded and were in the process of claiming their luggage from the back as the driver tossed it all to the ground.

  Even Maggie had gotten off, though she hung back by the door of the shuttle and watched him.

  Good girl. Though no longer his girl.

  The dull stab that thought caused in his heart set him in motion. He needed to move. To work. To do something besides feel.

  He navigated around bags and travelers to Maggie. “Come on. We’ll grab your luggage and get checked in. I’ll feel better when you’re in your room.”

  Her lips twitched. “Are you going to lock me in my room the whole time we’re here to keep me safe?”

  “Will you let me?” he asked, only half joking.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Didn’t think so.” He smiled. “I just don’t like being out here in the open.” Silas glanced once more at the gate.

  Her hand on his forearm caught his attention. “I was at those funerals with you. I know what you’re thinking.”

  How was she so intuitive and understanding now, when back when Jonas had died and she’d demanded a divorce she’d been neither?

  That thought angered him as much as it reminded him why they were no longer married. She couldn’t forgive him then for having to be away doing his job. And he still hadn’t forgiven himself.

  This was neither the time nor the place for a discussion, even if he had wanted to have one, which he didn’t.

  Silas tipped his head toward the building. “Go on. I’ve got the bags.”

  “I can—” She reached for the handle of her roller suitcase than pulled her hand back when he lifted a brow and kept his hand on it. “Still won’t let me carry my own suitcase?”

  “Nope,” he said with a definitive shake of his head.

  Her lips twitched. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now get inside, please.” He lifted his chin toward the group already starting to enter the building.

  “Yes, sir.” She smiled.

  The DHS delegation walked in front of him, but that was best. From his vantage point behind the group, he could keep an eye on things.

  He glanced at the roof. No motion up there. Not at the moment, anyway. He swept the windows facing the front with his gaze. Nothing caught his eye.

  Nothing seemed amiss . . . so why were the hairs on the back of his neck standing up?

  CHAPTER 12

  Inside the lobby the hotel looked deceptively normal. It could have been any chain hotel back in the states—except that it wasn’t.

  Silas didn’t let appearances sway him or his actions.

  With his sixth sense still screaming in his ear, he wasn’t going to let his guard down until they were on the plane and at thirty thousand damn feet up in the air.

  Chavez must have already checked in. He walked toward Silas from the direction of the front desk with something that looked like a keycard envelope in his hand.

  “Silas.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve got a dinner meeting scheduled so you’re on your own for tonight. The opening session begins at nine. Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow at, let’s say, seven-thirty? Or is that too early?”

  Silas smothered his laugh. Anything after sunrise was not what he’d consider early. “Not too early at all. I believe the main restaurant serves breakfast. Should I make reservations?”

  Chavez shook his head, smiling. “Thank you, but not necessary. I’ll have my assistant handle that.”

  Silas nodded, still not sure why the hell he was here. It apparently wasn’t to attend whatever dinner meeting Chavez was going to tonight. He’d said it wasn’t to play bodyguard to him either.

  Maybe the opening session would prove enlightening as to why they’d all had to fly to Africa.

  Ridiculous.

  But as long as Maggie had to be here, Silas was glad he was too. Even if she wa
sn’t legally his responsibility any longer, he still felt responsible for her. He had a feeling that would never change.

  When Chavez took his leave, after a promise to see him at the restaurant bright and early, Silas turned to Maggie. “Let’s get you checked in.”

  She lifted a brow. “You know, I’ll be fine on my own if you have somewhere else to be.”

  “I know,” he said, mostly to make her happy. “But as it turns out I don’t have anywhere else to be until seven-thirty in the morning so there’s nothing stopping me from helping you get settled in your room.”

  Settled. Safely locked inside. Whichever.

  “What’s really up with you?” She narrowed her gaze at him and continued, “And don’t say nothing. I know you too well for you to lie to me.”

  Drawing in a breath through his nose while he pressed his lips together, Silas considered his answer.

  He opted for the truth, a surprise decision even to himself. “I’ve just got a bad feeling.”

  She pinned him with a stare for a moment, before saying, “All right.”

  He lifted his brow. “All right? That’s it?”

  Maggie raised one shoulder. “You might have thought I was in the dark while we were married and you were still in the teams, but I wasn’t. Team guys talk to their wives, whether they’re supposed to or not. And their wives talk to each other. I heard about how one of your feelings saved the team from an ambush. I’m not about to doubt you now.”

  That was quite a revelation. He drew in a breath and let it out in a huff. God willing this time the nagging in his brain was wrong. Either way, he didn’t want to worry Maggie.

  “It’s probably nothing,” he said.

  “Yeah, right. Probably.” She shot him a look he couldn’t quite read but he was pretty sure the subtext of her tone said he should stop trying to bull shit her.

  She was right. She did know him too well for him to lie to her. He laughed at being busted doing just that.

  “Come on. I can’t wait to see what the rooms look like. Maybe you have a view of the river.”

  “And a balcony,” she added hopefully.

  He smothered a snort. There’d be no balcony if he had anything to say about it. He fully intended to tell the clerk no balconies for either of them because if he were going to break into a room that would be just the way he’d do it. Climb right down from the roof and onto the balcony.

  “Uh, yeah. Hopefully,” he lied and then turned his back to Maggie and faced the front desk attendant. “We’re both checking in. Separate rooms but on the same floor, if possible.”

  Being on the same floor would help ease his mind slightly.

  He shot Maggie a glance and then leaned in closer to the clerk and kept his voice low as he added, “And can they be rooms without balconies, please?”

  Shortly after, keycards in hand and her suitcase in tow, Silas led Maggie to the elevator and pushed the button.

  “Do you want to go to your room and drop off your stuff?” she asked when they got off the elevator and he turned in the direction of her room.

  “I will. Later. Let’s get you settled in first.”

  If he really had moved on, like he’d hoped he would have by now, he would have insisted on sleeping in her room. On the floor if there was only one bed, just to make sure she was safe.

  As things stood, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t stop thinking of her as his wife, his to protect, his to love. But even though he couldn’t seem to get it through his thick head that she was none of those things any longer thanks to the divorce, he shouldn’t spend the night in her room.

  He’d have to settle for knowing she was double locked safely inside whenever he said goodnight to her later.

  She opened the door and he pushed past her, checking out the room, evaluating it for safety.

  By the time he turned back to the doorway, he saw she’d steered the suitcase into the closet.

  She’d also taken off the jacket she’d traveled in and hung that from the rod, leaving her curves in full view.

  He yanked his gaze off the tempting lines of her body and back up to her face.

  “Am I allowed to go down to the restaurant to eat dinner?” she asked, one brow cocked high.

  His lips twitched from the attitude she didn’t even try to temper, but instead leveled right at him.

  “You’re allowed,” he said. Even though he actually would prefer if she stayed safely locked in her room.

  “Would you like to join me?” she asked. “Or do you have to eat with Director Chavez?” she added.

  Her invitation took him aback. Yes, she’d invited him over to eat pizza, but that was out of pity that one night. And then again the night he’d gotten hired, but that was to celebrate and find him an apartment online.

  What was her reason for this invitation?

  “Uh, no. He’s meeting with someone else.” And there went his excuse to avoid eating with her, if he’d wanted one. But he didn’t. He’d prefer to know she was safe with his own eyes. “Yeah. Sure. We can grab something to eat if you’re hungry.”

  To know she was safe. Even he didn’t believe his own excuse.

  He wanted to be with her, plain and simple. Which was exactly why he shouldn’t do it.

  “Um, actually I’m kind of starving. Can we go now?” she asked.

  He laughed. His woman—make that his ex-woman—always could eat.

  She would pack away the food without hesitation or shame right from the first time he’d met her. No eating like a bird while on a date for her. It was one of the first things he’d loved about her. One of the things he still loved about her.

  “Yeah, I could eat too. Let’s go down.” He’d dropped his backpack on the floor just inside the door when he first came in. “Mind if I leave my stuff here and grab it after we eat?”

  There was no doubt he was walking her back to her room and making sure it—and she—were secured.

  “Sure.” She grabbed a small purse out of her carry-on bag. “Anything if it means I get fed faster.”

  She grinned, making him laugh again.

  Okay, they were doing this.

  After all the months where he purposefully avoided contact with her through any means, he was willingly going to sit opposite this woman in a restaurant for the next hour.

  Just the two of them. Like a frigging date. With his ex-wife. Fucking fabulous.

  Drawing in a breath, he steeled his resolve.

  He could do this. Survive one dinner with Maggie and not completely fall back in love with her.

  Fuck. Who was he kidding? He’d never fallen out of love with her.

  CHAPTER 13

  Silas made it through dinner somehow.

  Actually, it wasn’t as hard as he’d anticipated. Fodder for small talk was all over the place.

  They watched the diverse mix of people coming and going through the restaurant even at the odd hour.

  They talked about the food they ordered and then had the excuse to not talk at all as they ate.

  He had plenty to occupy him and lots to talk about other than the one subject he didn’t want to touch—their failed marriage.

  And, of course, there was his other not so little task of evaluating everyone and everything as a possible threat. Given how much of his mental capacity that occupied, Silas had to wonder how much of their discussion he’d missed.

  Maggie didn’t say anything if he had lagged a bit in replying or keeping up his end of the conversation. But he sure as hell must have missed something because as he walked her to her door, there was an unmistakable vibe radiating off her.

  She glanced at him sideways and if he wasn’t completely off base, she’d just looked him up and down through narrowed eyes.

  What the hell?

  Was he going crazy? Or was she giving him that look. The look that, when they’d been married, meant let’s go to bed early tonight.

  There was one problem—they were no longer married.

  Actually, th
ere was a second problem. What if he were imagining things and she didn’t want him at all? Maybe she was just tired. Jetlag was a bitch and they had traveled all day.

  Was she tipsy? How many glasses of wine had she had?

  He’d had zero alcohol to drink. He hadn’t wanted to have his senses or his response time impaired in any way in case shit went down.

  As Maggie got out her key card and moved toward the door, he reviewed the night. She’d commented on how the red wine she’d ordered was very good. But he thought she’d only had that one glass. In fact, he was fairly certain of it.

  So what was this vibe between them?

  Silas mentally gave himself a shake. Wishful thinking on his part, that’s what it was. A result of being celibate for way too long.

  And while he was obsessing over the imaginary chemistry with his ex-wife, he was ignoring the possible dangers that surrounded them.

  Reaching out, he took the key card from her just as she was about to slide it into the door slot.

  “May I?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She smiled, but it was somehow more than a smile.

  Crap. He needed to get inside, make sure the room was clear and then figure out what was going on between them, in that order.

  Safety first. Delusional sex fantasies later.

  He slipped in the card and watched the light turn from red to green. Turning the knob, he glanced back at her. “Wait right inside the doorway while I check the room.”

  Her brows rose. “All right.”

  He moved inside, flipping on the lights first before checking behind the door and motioning Maggie in.

  She hesitated. “Door open or closed?” she asked, holding on to it as she hovered in the opening.

  “Closed.” He didn’t need someone grabbing her from the hallway while he checked the closet and the shower stall.

  “All righty.” There was amusement in her voice. He chose to ignore it.

  Once he’d made sure the room was safe, he turned back to face her. “Okay.”

  She had her arms folded as she leaned against the door, watching him. “You sure? There’s no one hiding behind the curtains? Want to check that first before I come all the way in?”