SEAL by Fate Read online

  What had her so bothered that she’d been willing to take the risk? Hell, if he really wanted to get away from something bad enough, he’d take a stroll across a plank over shark infested waters…in fact, he’d been in similar circumstances.

  This told him several important things about the woman next to him. She was brave and determined. He admired those qualities, although she should have stayed in her vehicle.

  The golden glow of the fire illuminated her skin. Her natural color had finally returned. He followed the circular edges of bruising on her forehead with the tip of his finger, careful not to hurt her. The blue mark didn’t deter from her beauty in any way. Her cheeks were high, and she had a delicate bone structure with a heart shaped face. Her lips were pale pink and impossibly lush with the bottom lip fuller. Inky smears of mascara surrounded her closed eyes and he was curious what color they were.

  Threading his fingers in her hair he combed out some of the tangles and spread the white blonde mass over his arm. With the back of his knuckles he followed the slender line of her neck until he came to the hollow and checked her pulse. It was stable and strong. He watched the even rise and fall of her chest under the blanket, remembering how thick her erect nipples had been.

  He relaxed his head into the pillow next to hers. He couldn’t allow his innocent intention to keep her warm turn into him admiring how soft and beautiful she was.

  A whimper fell from her lips and she turned, cuddling against his chest and sliding her knee between his legs. She was only looking for warmth. “Come here,” he whispered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He kissed her on the forehead and temple and she sighed.

  He allowed his mind to wander down impossible what ifs. What if he’d met her under different circumstances? Would they have connected? There was the possibility that fate had placed her in his path. Likely, she wouldn’t have made it very far dressed as she was and wearing strappy heels. Would she have fallen and met her demise? What started out as catching a criminal turned out to be something completely unexpected.

  There would be other opportunities to catch Phantom. If the bastard was on this mountain as promised by the informant, he would be stuck too.

  In the meantime, Gray would take care of the beauty who was depending upon him, whether she understood how much.

  4

  STANDING UP FROM the couch felt like a hammer pounding his joints. He had suffered a few bruises from the accident but walking through the snow the half mile carrying Sleeping Beauty hadn’t helped.

  The puzzle pieces were starting to fit together, and the biggest clues were the dress and the cabin. She’d skipped out on her wedding and here they were at the honeymoon lodge. A little on edge, Gray wondered if a disgruntled groom would show up looking for his runaway bride. No one was going anywhere in this weather, but for theory’s sake…how would Gray explain? He wouldn’t. He’d just walk away…but where would he go? His Jeep was totaled, and it was so damn cold outside that the wind had left a burn on his skin. And with his aching body he’d rather not chance being out in the storm walking another who knows how far to reach shelter.

  Going to the kitchen, he poured himself coffee and spread out a map he’d found in the drawer. He had Rock Ridge circled in red, his target location. From his calculations, he was about ten miles from where he figured Phantom was hiding. Rubbing his brow, Gray might as well be a hundred miles because without snow gear and a vehicle, he wouldn’t make it two miles without feeling the effects of the weather. Not to mention, he couldn’t leave the mystery woman alone—at least not until she woke up. What he could hope for was that if the roads were closed, Phantom would stay put. Gray had heard on the radio that all roads had been shut down due to weather conditions. No cars could pass.

  Gray dropped his fist on the table, sloshing coffee onto the map. “Shit!” He glanced across the room at the couch. She was still sound asleep.

  He cursed himself for not having any gear with him. Every single survival apparatus was back at the office. Hell, in his favor, he hadn’t expected to be searching for a criminal in a blizzard. Still, he was usually better prepared than he was now.

  When the sun came up, he could access the situation, but without a vehicle how far would he get?

  Hearing a soft moan from Sleeping Beauty, Gray hurried into the next room and found her thrashing around. He knelt beside her and gently held her arms down so she couldn’t hurt herself. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re okay. Can you hear me?”

  Her eyes opened into slits. “Wh-where am I?” she asked in a croaked voice.

  “You’re at the cabin. What’s your name?” He removed his hands from her slender wrists.

  “Stormy. West,” she muttered. “Wh-who are you?”

  “Nice to meet you Stormy West. I’m Grayson Carlisle. Or Gray. That’s what everyone calls me.” Some relief spread over him. He’d been starting to get worried that she needed medical attention, but her waking up was a sign that she was getting better. He needed to ask her some questions and get a good idea how she was feeling…and hopefully some answers on what the hell she was doing out here. Her eyes came open wide and she had amazing, ice blue eyes.

  “Do I know you?”

  “No. We’ve never met. I came upon you while you were walking in the snow. Do you remember?”

  She blinked as if she was attempting to piece the memories together. “I-I remember walking, it was cold, then headlights…I jumped to miss a vehicle.”

  “Yeah, you remember.” He’d wait to fill her in on the fact that he’d swerved to miss her and hit the mountainside. “Are you warm enough?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you hurting?”

  “A little.” She lifted her hand and touched her forehead, squinting. “Ouch.”

  “You have a small cut that I treated with ointment and bandaged. You didn’t need stitches.”

  “Are you a doctor?”

  “No but feel safe enough knowing I’ve patched up a lot worse. Anything else hurting?”

  “I’m sore all over.”

  “That’s about to be expected.”

  “I’m so thirsty. Can I have something to drink?”

  He smiled. “Let me take a close look at you for injuries now that you’re awake and then I’ll grab you a bottle of water. Okay?”

  “I thought you said you aren’t a doctor?” Her thin brows came together.

  “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. I’m certified in first aid.” He took her hands into his, seeing how small they were mixed with the finger marks on her skin lit his protective side. “Can you squeeze my fingers?” She did. “Good job.” He turned her hand over and swallowed. There he found another bruise, probably from a thumb, and about the size of one too. Acid rose in his throat and it took him a good three seconds to drag his head back on track. It wasn’t any of his business.

  “I think I’m okay.” Her soft voice brought him fully back to the situation. “Right?”

  “You have some bruising and you’ll be sore for a while, but nothing’s broken. I couldn’t find any pain meds here. How about I grab you that water now?” He stood, not waiting for her answer and stomped to the refrigerator, all the while gritting his teeth. Sure, it was none of his business how she got the marks on her wrist, but he sure as hell hoped the jilted groom didn’t show up pounding on the door because it might become Gray’s business right quick.

  Having no clue about the situation, he felt relief that she had backed out. Instinct warned him that she’d been in trouble and things would have been far worse if she’d gone through with the marriage. Uncapping the lid to the bottle, he handed it over and she sipped. “Not too much. It’s possible you have a concussion.”

  “I’ve lost my clothes,” she muttered.

  “Sorry. They were wet and I took them off.”

  She blinked. “You did?”

  Would she slap him? “Yes.” He wouldn’t blame her if she did.

  “I’m glad to get that horrible thing off,” she
mumbled. “Is this your place?” She tried sitting up but squinted and touched her temple.

  “No. I found the key in your coat.”

  “I think I have some aspirin in my purse…ahh, wait…I don’t have my purse, do I?”

  “I didn’t see it in your car.” His mind came up with a dozen questions, but he didn’t want to bombard her, not when he could see she had a headache. He could use an aspirin himself.

  “I didn’t get very far walking, did I?”

  “You wouldn’t have gotten far in those shoes you were wearing.”

  “The only other option would have been barefoot.”

  “I need to know. Should I be on the lookout for a rejected groom?” He didn’t want any trouble, unless it came to him protecting the beauty.

  There was a hesitation that spoke volumes, and it contradicted her response. “No.”

  Gray nodded, not feeling convinced, but he wouldn’t pressure her. Fact was, neither of them were going anywhere tonight, maybe not tomorrow. This definitely wasn’t how the night was supposed to go down, but maybe a twist of fate kept him from making a big mistake that could have cost him his life. Sleeping Beauty—or rather, Stormy seemed okay and by morning he hoped she was much better. Tomorrow he could walk back to the accident scene and see if there was a chance he could get the sports car out of the snow, but the Jeep wasn’t going anywhere until a tow truck could make the mountain. He had his gun safely tucked in the closet and they had a roof over their heads. When the sun came up he’d devise a plan, but for now, he’d attempt to relax and hope the aching in his knee and arm didn’t get worse.

  He watched her eyes drift shut and that was his cue to retire to the bedroom and grab some winks too. Dropping into the bed, his head had barely hit the pillow when he closed his eyes and was out like a light.

  *

  Phantom smiled. His plans were coming together. Even Mother Nature worked in his favor. He touched his arm in thought. The bullet wound had healed, but his anger hadn’t. He didn’t like anyone getting in the way of his plans and Agent Carlisle had made a dire mistake when he foiled Phantom’s plans.

  Soon—very, very soon—he’d show the lawman.

  Phantom clicked on the TV, scrolled through the channels and stopped on a news channel. There was breaking news on another soft target attack. This made him thirsty, but he had to stay focused on his plans. He’d spent too long waiting for the day that he’d see Carlisle pay the price.

  Patience was a virtue.

  5

  STORMY SMELLED A rich masculine scent mixed with wood smoke and she sunk deeper into the warm cocoon of sleep, wanting to relax back into the dream she’d been having of a tall, dangerously handsome, dark-haired stranger with strong arms. The soft curves of her body had fit nicely in the hard planes of his.

  Was it a dream?

  Opening her eyes, she jerked to a sitting position on the couch and frantically scanned her surroundings. Everything came back to her. Accident. Cabin. Sexy stranger.

  Red embers were smoking in the fireplace and through the slats of the blind on the window she saw that the sun was rising. It was early yet, and she didn’t see the stranger. What was his name? Gray. Yes, that was it.

  Uncovered, she felt the cold of the morning and hurried to drag the cover back up to her chin, holding it tight against her partially naked chest. Naked chest?

  The hair on her nape lifted.

  The stranger had undressed her.

  Her cheeks warmed and her spine tingled. At least she didn’t have to wear the worthless gown any longer. She saw it sitting on the chair across the room and felt a stab of guilt. Not because she’d run away from her own wedding, but because the beautiful dress was discarded so haphazardly. A gown that beautiful deserved to be worn by a bride who was happy and in love with her groom. What had she been thinking by agreeing to marry Duncan? It would have been a mistake she could have never have lived down.

  She was acutely aware of the pain in her temples, and when she shifted, another pain shot through her limbs. Closing her eyes, she waited until some of the stiffness in her joints subsided.

  What the hell had she been thinking by jumping into the ditch? At the time she’d thought it had been her only choice to save her life from the oncoming vehicle. She wasn’t sure what she struck when she fell, but she did remember hitting something hard and then everything going black.

  She was thirsty. And she was sick to her stomach. If she wanted to ease the discomfort, she’d have to brave the cold.

  Rolling over, she tossed off the thick blanket and the cooler air chilled her but did ease the nausea some. The quicker she forced her body to move, the sooner she’d feel better. Her mouth was dry and she couldn’t remember ever being so parched. Lifting herself up on her elbow, she spotted the full bottle of water on the table and grabbed it, popped off the lid that went flying across the floor, and drank thirstily. Her stomach warned her that too much and she’d be sick, so she placed the bottle back on the table, although she’d wanted to drain it and more.

  The ring on her finger caught the sunshine flowing in through the window. She looked down at the diamond and her stomach turned. All her fears, confusion, and anger trickled down her spine like icy cold fingers. What was Duncan thinking this morning? Would he look for her? Or accept her disappearance as closure? She had a lot of decisions to make today, and the biggest…where would she go? The wedding planner, Tiffany, had told her she could stay here for a few nights, but a few wasn’t long.

  Stormy couldn’t go back home because home was in Duncan’s apartment. Stormy had already moved out of her own place and her things were stored in a storage unit until she and Duncan had found another place. She’d planned to live with him at his apartment until they’d found the perfect home, although he hadn’t seemed in any hurry to search for one. In fact, he hadn’t seemed interested in much over the last six months outside of his career. She understood he was a private man, but whenever she tried to speak to him about his daily routine, he would either answer vaguely or shrug off her questions to the point that she’d suspected he had another life. She’d watched a movie once where a man had three wives, all in different states. It seemed farfetched, but as of lately, did she really know Duncan? Someone thought they did because they were sending her notes warning him that he was dangerous.

  Since Colette wasn’t taking her calls, Stormy didn’t think she’d be welcomed there. Duncan would find her at her sister’s anyway and Stormy couldn’t face him. Not now.

  Standing, it took a minute for the dizziness to subside and her wobbly knees to strengthen. Dragging the blanket up around her shoulders, she stepped across to the fireplace and poked at the coals. Dropping on two more logs, it took a bit of coaxing, but finally the fire started up again.

  Pitter-pattering into the kitchen, she popped open the refrigerator. It was empty. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten much in several weeks.

  Scavenging in the cabinets, she smiled. Although it wasn’t fine dining, she wouldn’t stick her nose up at the variety of rice, soups, or even the container of Spam. When she and her sister were little, growing up poor, they’d eaten canned meat like a delicacy. She was especially happy to see the bag of coffee she found sitting on the counter. Once she set the coffee maker to brew, she opened two cans of chicken noodle soup, dropped the contents into a pan and set the stove to simmer.

  Curious about the cabin, she looked around, opening drawers and inspecting the books on a shelf until she unintentionally found herself standing at the open doorway into the bedroom where the stranger was sleeping. Her heart beat thumped wildly as she stared like a child outside the window of a candy store. He was on his back sprawled across the bed that looked small compared to his large, muscular frame. One arm thrown over his eyes, his wide jaw slightly tilted. His other arm lay across his flat stomach and she scooted her gaze across his smooth chest.

  Stormy had slightly wondered if she’d imagined how masculine and strapping he was, but she h
adn’t fabricated one iron dip or sinewy plane. The waistband on his blue boxers was tugged low on his slender hips and she could see a dark path of crisp hair that stopped at his navel. There was a bulge stretching the cotton and her inner thighs throbbed.

  Duncan and this man were worlds apart. Her fiance—or rather, ex fiance—ran five miles every morning, ate healthy, and took care of himself. Looking at Gray, by the ruggedness of his jaw, the breadth of his arms and the scars on his chest and legs told her his strength came from working hard and taking risks. He was built like a crime fighter or modern-day warrior.

  Stepping into the room, she hesitated a few feet from the door, feeling like she was invading his privacy, and yet they were alone together in a hideaway cabin. She had no clue who he was except his first name. Gray. He could have told her his last name too, but she couldn’t remember. For all she knew he could be a serial killer that preyed upon defenseless women in snowstorms. The very thought made her giggle. If he were hunting his next victim, he’d done a very poor job of it. She had a feeling, just from looking at him, he didn’t fail at much. If he had any evil intentions, he certainly wouldn’t leave her sleeping on the couch or tend to her wound. Scratching that thought from her mind, she moved closer to the bed, getting a better view at the white jagged scar on his knee and another that looked stark against the backdrop of his tanned, smooth chest. Stormy had the desire to trace the marks and wondered where that feeling came from. Duncan had a few scars too and they’d never enlisted a desire in her to trace them.

  The man was ruggedly handsome. As she examined him closer, she found several more paler scars on his torso and on his arms. Where would he get all the wounds? The fresh bruising on his knee must have been from the accident.