Guarding His Pretend Wife: SEAL Endgame Book Two Page 2

  Still, the elevator was buzzing, along with Eric’s interest and sitting down to grab a sandwich with her couldn’t hurt anything, right? He held the doors for her and waved her inside. “C’mon. You’ve got me intrigued.”

  They rode down to the first floor then walked out into the bright sunshine of a mid-summer San Francisco. The Giants were playing the Red Socks later today. Perfect weather for it. Maybe he’d try to get tickets, depending on how this conversation went.

  A few doors down from the Frisco Times offices was the café she’d mentioned. Eric held the door for her then followed Beth inside. The place was nearly full as noon approached. They got in line to order, then moved down the way to pay and pickup their food. She’d not said a word since she’d gotten on the elevator and his interest was growing by the second.

  Finally, they grabbed their orders and found a quiet table for two near the back of the place.

  “So, what’s this proposition you want to discuss with me?” he asked around a bite of his turkey sandwich.

  She poured dressing on her salad and mixed it in as she answered. “The story I was telling you about at the office? My partner and I were investigating Hartstrings, Inc. Ever heard of them?”

  Her dark eyes sparkled with energy and he forced himself to look away. Wouldn’t do him any good to get too dazzled by her. He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “They run these couples’ retreats on a private island in the Caribbean. Sort of counseling on the beach kind of thing.” Beth gave a dismissive wave and rolled her eyes again. Her apparent disregard for the so-called romance of the retreats made him grin. Not that there was anything wrong with romance—it just wasn’t for him. He didn’t do relationships. They involved too many messy emotions and too much trust. Neither of which Eric dabbled in. He’d learned his lessons too well from his own parents’ dysfunctional marriage.

  “Anyway,” Beth said, refocusing his attention on their conversation again. “A friend of mine decided to check one of these retreats out. She happens to have an amazing track record for falling for every scam in the book, so as soon as she told me she was going, I got suspicious. I did some initial digging and it all looks legit on the surface, but weird things kept popping up. The guy running the place? He’s a ghost. It’s like he didn’t exist ten years ago. I think he invented his persona, and why would he do that unless he had something to hide?”

  “Sometimes people want a fresh start,” Eric offered, playing devil’s advocate.

  “And sometimes people are scam artists,” Beth argued back “and the only thing they want is a fresh pool of victims.”

  “Is anyone complaining about the retreats?”

  “No, and that’s weird, too. People rave about it…but they always say the same thing, like they’re working off a shared script. Like they’ve been coached.”

  Eric still wasn’t convinced—the evidence all sounded pretty thin. “How about your friend? Does she sound coached?”

  Beth frowned. “No, she sounds like her normal self. But her boyfriend…he goes with the party line. And that’s another strange thing. Her boyfriend? He’s a venture capitalist—a big name in his field, has boatloads of money, but he’s not a celebrity. You wouldn’t recognize his name if you heard it. And yet, his tickets to the retreat were comped. Those tickets are crazy expensive, and he can certainly afford to pay full price. So why give him those tickets for free?”

  Eric shrugged. “Maybe they just hoped he’d recommend the place to all his rich friends.”

  Beth snorted, poking viciously at her salad as if it had offended her. “The guy running the place is a media darling with celebrity endorsements up the wahzoo. He doesn’t need some VC out there plugging for him. No, I’m certain there’s something more going on. There’s a story there. I know it. A career-making story, if I can get down there and break it wide open.”

  Huh. At first, Eric hadn’t seen much similarity between Heath and his sister, but there it was, right there. Ambition. Heath could be a real go-getter when he wanted to be and it seemed his sister was the same. Still, he didn’t know exactly how he could help her out with that. “What do you need me for?”

  She gave him a coy look. “I need a new partner.”

  The hair on the back of Eric’s neck prickled with foreboding. This wasn’t going to be good.

  He chuckled, trying to blow it off. “I’m a terrible writer.”

  “I don’t need you to write anything,” she said, swallowing another bite of her salad. “I need you to pose as my boyfriend.”

  “What?” The insides of his turkey sandwich plopped down onto his plate because he’d squeezed the bread so hard. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Beth.”

  “Why not?” She finished her salad and wiped her mouth on her napkin. “You’re a SEAL, so I know that you’re smart, capable, and discreet. You’re on medical leave, so it’s not like there’s anywhere else you need to be. And you’re friends with my brother, so I’m sure I can trust you.”

  “Uh, you barely know me,” he said, putting the remains of his food down and wiping his hands, his appetite plummeting. His gut had warned him this was a bad idea. He should’ve listened. “And the fact I’m buddies with Heath should be the number one reason why I say no. Acting like your boyfriend mean we’d have to get closer and Heath would kill me if I did that. He’s like family to me.”

  Beth gave him a pointed stare. “My brother never has to know. We put on a show for the outside world and keep our hands to ourselves privately. Think of it like one of your SEAL missions. Undercover intrigue, only with beaches and bathing suits.”

  The thought of Beth in a tiny bikini and nothing else damned near made him swallow his tongue. He took a long swig of his iced tea and watched her over the rim of his glass. She had the same expression Heath got sometimes before a mission, unwavering determination. Damn. Eric was in trouble here.

  Reading the panic he was sure was written all over his face, Beth sighed. “Look, I realize this is coming out of the blue for you, but I’m desperate here. If I lose this story, it could damage my career. I really think I’m on to something and I need your help. I believe people are being exploited, and I want to make it stop. There could be innocent lives at risk. Aren’t SEALs sworn to serve and protect?”

  “That’s the cops,” he grumbled, but damn. She’d pushed his major button and didn’t even know it. Protectiveness was woven into every fiber of his being, thanks to his no-good, con-artist father and the crap he’d put Eric’s mother through growing up. Taking her up on her offer was insanity, but if he didn’t agree would someone else? Perhaps someone not as capable of keeping her safe if she really did uncover something dangerous?

  The thought of Beth trapped on an island with no one reliable watching her back made his blood boil. And in a way he'd be doing Heath a favor, wouldn’t he? Keeping an eye on his little sis while she worked.

  “Please?” she said, drawing his focus back to her. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need your help. The tickets and the retreat are already booked. Our flight leaves in the morning. Maybe I’m wrong and there’s nothing going on at all. In that case, it’ll be a one-week vacation, all expenses paid. You can’t pass that up, right? All you have to do is pretend to be into me and look pretty.”

  He didn’t have to pretend to be into her. That was the problem. But given everything else and the importance of this trip to her job, he couldn’t say no.

  It would be hard to keep his hands to himself, but no harder than staying up thirty-six hours to guard an encampment against the enemy. Plus, it would give him a much-needed change of scenery. And get him out of his apartment.

  “Fine. I’ll do it,” he said.

  “Great.” She asked for his phone number and typed in his digits then stood to throw away her trash. “I need to get back to the office and tell my editor. Once I get everything situated there, I’ll text you with the details. Thanks so much for helping me out.”

  Eric stayed behind at t
he table to finish his lunch. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Heath telling him his sister was fine and not to worry. Then he stared out at the sunny day and blue skies above, praying he’d made the right choice.

  Heath buzzed back a response minutes later, thanking Eric for checking in on her.

  Guilt pinched his chest before he shoved it aside. He was doing this to keep an eye on Beth and help her out of a tough situation. That was all. Before he knew it, it would all be over and he’d be back in his beloved city by the bay, tanned and relaxed and hopefully, with Heath none the wiser.

  She was right. It was the perfect plan. Well, except for the whole lying to his best friend part.

  He threw his own trash away and headed back outside, the sun hot on his skin.

  Now, if he could just get his libido under control when Beth was around, he’d be all set.

  3

  The next morning Beth was waiting in the small terminal of the private airport to meet Eric so they could catch their flight for the LoveFix Retreat. After getting Eric’s agreement to play her partner on this adventure, she’d returned to the office and made all the arrangements.

  Her pulse sped and adrenaline pumped through her system. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Eric that this story could be life-changing for her. The bigger news outlets were always on the lookout for the next breakout star and if Beth could prove her suspicions were true—that Robert Hart and his isolated resort were involved in something shady—then that was pure gold career-wise. She could stop counting every penny, stop dreaming about the day her big break would come, stop worrying about the fact that she was closer now to thirty than twenty and still had nothing to show for her efforts than a desk job in a mid-sized newspaper that had dwindling readership and offered little hope for advancement.

  She glanced up and caught sight of Eric strolling into the terminal, all long-legged male grace and devastatingly confident attitude. Damn and perdition. If they could bottle even an ounce of his potent charisma, cologne companies could make a fortune. Beth cleared the sudden constriction from her throat and stood to wave him over to where she was sitting.

  There were probably thirty other couples there with them, of varying ages, ethnicities, and gender orientations. A good-sized group. Hopefully, she and Eric would be able to blend into the background—drawing no attention as she dug for information.

  “Hey,” Eric said, joining her near the windows and slumping down in the seat beside hers. Not only did he look like he walked off the cover of Hot Guys on Vacation in his cargo shorts that cupped his taut ass to perfection and form-fitting white T-shirt that showed acres of muscled torso and lickable tanned skin, but he also smelled amazing—like soap and citrus and a hint of fabric softener.

  Then again, it had been more than a few months since Beth had been with a guy, so maybe she was just horny. She shook off her erotic thoughts about the last man on earth she should sleep with and frowned down at her phone screen instead. “Did you receive all my notes?”

  “I did,” he said, setting his carry-on black duffle on the floor near his feet then leaning back in his chair to stretch his arm across the back of her seat. The brush of his forearm against her shoulder sent tingles of awareness through her body and heat sparkled through her blood like wildfire. His next words, though, put a fast damper on that blaze. “But I don’t like the plan.”

  Beth bristled with annoyance. “Well, it’s a good thing then that I’m not paying you for your opinion.”

  “You’re not paying me at all, sweetheart.” He gave her a slow grin that made her toes curl in her strappy sandals. “Even so, I don’t like using my real-life details on this trip, especially since we’re using fake names. It’ll be easier to stay in character if there are clear lines between what’s real and what’s not.”

  It made sense, dammit, even if she didn’t want to admit it. But sticking close to the truth would definitely be simpler. There wasn’t enough time for Eric to learn all the intricate details of the fake life she and Jeff had put in place. They’d had weeks to learn their cover. She and Eric had… Beth checked her watch. Twenty minutes until takeoff. Shit.

  Eric was watching her, his too-perceptive gaze narrowed, and she alternately wanted to tackle him to the floor and kiss him silly and tell him to fuck right off. Unfortunately, she needed his help, so she took a deep breath instead and forced a polite smile she didn’t feel. “What would you suggest?”

  He gave a one-shoulder shrug, then winced slightly, rubbing his left bicep. “I say we agree now to a quick cover story. Something that’s close enough to our own truth that we won’t get tripped up if people ask us about it, but different enough that we’re protected.”

  “Okay. Like what?” Beth shifted slightly to look at him.

  “How about we swap a few things. I’ll be the workaholic writer and you can be a wife who’s just returned home from the service. Maybe while you were overseas I got lonely and had an affair. Despite our troubles, we still love each other and want to try to work things out.”

  “Nah. Too cliché.” She blinked at him a moment. Not bad, actually. She could fill him in on details for his writer-life cover and she had decent knowledge about the military from her research at work and from talking with her brother Heath. “I like the workaholic part though. How about you put your career ahead of everything else now, including our marriage?”

  “Okay. Sounds good.” He stared down at her outstretched hand. “What’s that?”

  “Wedding ring,” she said, grabbing his hand and sliding the simple platinum band onto his finger. Hers was platinum too, but with a diamond solitary set on top. The stone glittered up at her beneath the overhead lights and even though this whole thing was totally a lie and the thing was a rhinestone, it suddenly felt all too real. For the next week at least, she and Eric would be playing husband and wife. A frisson of excitement fluttered through her before she tamped it down.

  This was all play-acting, putting on a show to fool the resort staff and the other couples and that was it. The sooner she remembered that, the better.

  Then she watched while Eric slid on his own ring then raised her hand to his mouth to kiss the back of her fingers. Mesmerized, all Beth could do was stare at him, his eyes warm with amusement and his breath hot on her skin as he grinned. “Best start letting these people think I can’t keep my hands off you, right sweetheart?”

  “Uh…” Cheeks flaming, Beth swallowed hard and searched for her words. Just then the boarding announcement issued over the PA system and she pulled away fast. “Yeah. We should get in line. And don’t get too carried away. We’re supposed to be a couple having problems, right? And besides, this is all pretend.”

  * * *

  Eric stared out the window of the cabin beside him and sipped his frou-frou tropical drink. They’d been on the packed private jet for nearly seven hours now and under normal circumstances he’d have been climbing the walls. Small spaces weren’t his forte. Made him feel trapped. And while flying didn’t usually bother him, the smaller confines of the private jet couples with their full group of couples made this trip a bit too close for his comfort.

  Still, being with Beth calmed him, for some reason. Then again, it could be the alcohol in these drinks too. He had no idea what exactly went into making an Ipanema Explosion, but it tasted like rum and coconut and paradise and after three of them, he didn’t much care.

  “You doing all right, dear?” Beth asked him, looking up from her laptop screen. She’d spent most of the flight working while he’d napped or watched the in-flight movie on the screen in the back of the seat in front of him. She gave him a side glance, then continued clacking those keys of hers on her computer. “Want me to have the attendant bring you another of those fruity drinks?”

  He snorted. The irony of their positions was not lost on him. He was used to being the man in charge, a tough-as-nails alpha who commanded respect on his SEAL team. But for the sake of her story, he’d let these people on
the plane with them think whatever they wanted. He was here to protect Beth and if that meant laying low and playing her husband then so be it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please stow away any electronic devices and secure your trays in their upright position as we prepare for our final descent to the island,” an attendant in a crisp blue uniform said. “Thank you.”

  Beth did as he’d asked and Eric straightened in his seat, watching her as she tucked her laptop away in the tote she’d slid beneath the seat in front of her. He’d thought she’d looked hot in her office attire the day before, with her form-fitting black pants and bright turquoise top. But man, oh man, she looked downright gorgeous today. Those long, tanned legs of hers displayed to perfection by her white shorts and the way that navy and white striped top she wore outlined her curves ought to be illegal in all fifty states. He had to stare out the window again to get his damned body back under control.

  This was ridiculous. He was only here to help her out and to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble, per his promise to his buddy. Heath would have a cow if Eric so much as laid an inappropriate finger on his little sister. Not to mention the fact that Eric didn’t do relationships and Beth had “deserves better than no-strings-attached” written all over her.

  He sighed and leaned back in his seat, shutting his eyes until he felt the bump and jolt of their ‘smooth’ landing. Soon, they’d taxied to their gate at the small airport and passengers began to buzz around the cabin, gathering their things to disembark.

  Eric helped Beth get her bag down from the overhead bin then grabbed his duffle before following her down the aisle and out onto the tarmac. No boarding tunnels here on the island, just warm breezes and blue skies as far as the eye could see.

  Taking a deep breath, he felt some of his restless tension dissipate. Yep. Coming here had been a good idea, even if it was all a ruse. The air smelled of warm sand and sea and the sound of palm trees rustling in the wind reminded him of his last mission in the Middle East, the one that had ended with him being MediVac’d out of the desert because of the gunshot wound.