Susan Cliff - Stranded With The Navy Seal

Cady was risk-averse, for good reason. She was the daughter of a police officer. Her grandfather had died in a tragic accident right before her eyes. She’d developed a strong sense of caution as a child, and it seemed to grow stronger every year. She liked to feel secure at all times. She never drank to excess. She always wore her seat belt.

Logan wasn’t the kind of man she would normally choose to date. He was too intense. He did terrifying things in the name of their country. Things she didn’t want to imagine. On the other hand, this wasn’t a date. This was a chance encounter. After the cruise was over, she’d never see him again. He might not be steady boyfriend material, but he was an excellent candidate for a night of pleasure.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” he said. “If you want to stay and dance, I’m game.”

“No.”

His face fell. “No?”

“I don’t want to hurt your knee.”

“Screw my knee.”

She laughed at this, moving closer to him. Maybe she was drunk. Drunk off one smashed-peach mojito, a boatload of sexual chemistry and one devastatingly dirty dance. “What are my other options?”

His gaze darkened with interest. “Anything you like.”

“Let’s go.”

He grasped her hand and walked back through the bar. She picked up her purse on the way out. Despite his injury, she had to hurry to match his stride. Which was fine by her. Now that she’d decided to “live a little,” she couldn’t wait to get started.

His room was only two levels down, so they took the stairs. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her knees felt weak. His grip was strong and reassuring, his hands wonderfully large. When they reached the landing, her heel got caught on the carpet and she stumbled against him. His arms went around her waist to steady her. She felt secure and exhilarated at the same time. It was an intoxicating sensation.

“Thanks,” she said, breathless.

His gaze locked on hers. They were alone in a quiet hallway. She didn’t know where his room was, but she needed to touch him right here and now. His mouth descended, as if he’d read her signals and shared her impatience. She twined her fingers through his hair. Then they were kissing like crazy.

There was no tentative warm-up. No gentle brush of lips or soft, hesitant petting. He buried his tongue in her mouth and thrust his hands beneath her skirt—both hands! With a possessive grunt, he lifted her against him. He had her back to the wall and her legs around his waist in the blink of an eye.

Lord. It was glorious.

He was like a caveman. His mouth was hot and delicious, his tongue bold. She kissed him back with equal enthusiasm, squirming against him. His erection jutted at the apex of her thighs, and his big hands splayed over her bottom.

She whimpered into his mouth, already lost. She was on fire for him. If he ripped off her panties and took her right here against the wall, she wouldn’t protest. She’d sob his name and sing Glory, Glory Hallelujah.

He didn’t rip off her panties. He broke the kiss and removed his hands from under her skirt, glancing around to make sure they were still alone. Then he took a step back. “Sorry. I usually have more self-control.”

She touched her swollen lips. “So do I.”

“I’ll try to go slow.”

“Okay,” she said, swallowing hard.

After that was settled, they both rushed down the hallway toward his room. She burst out laughing at their lack of decorum. He laughed along with her. His hair was mussed, his collar askew. She’d never felt like this before, awash with joy and arousal. He pushed her up against the door and kissed her breath away. All of her senses were heightened. They were standing on the threshold of ecstasy.

But she didn’t get in.

There was a sudden flash of movement behind Logan. He was yanked backward and thrown into the opposite wall. She counted three figures in black masks, circling like sharks. She shrank against the door, but one of them grabbed her and clamped a hand over her mouth. Her scream was muffled by a leather-covered palm. She was shoved into the room next to Logan’s. It was dark. Thin curtains fluttered by the open balcony entrance. Her knees met the edge of the bed and she fell across it with her captor. She kicked her legs wildly and bit at the gloved hand. He didn’t let go.

Logan crashed into the room and got immediately wrapped up by two assailants. They wrestled him onto the balcony. He managed to jerk his arm free and throw a brutal punch, staggering one of the masked men.

Cady watched in horror as the second man swung a blunt object at Logan, hitting him in the temple. Logan dropped to his knees. Blood streamed down his forehead. Strangled sounds emerged from her throat. Logan fell onto his stomach and stayed there, motionless. The two men hauled him upright and pitched him over the railing.

And that was it. He was gone.

She stopped struggling. Tears blurred her vision, and her mind went blank. She didn’t understand what was happening, but resistance seemed futile. There were too many hands on her. One of the assailants gagged her and bound her wrists with rope. He tied her ankles, too. Some kind of bag went over her head. Then she was lifted and carried onto the balcony. Although she couldn’t see anything, she could feel her body being lowered over the railing. She sobbed into the gag, frozen with terror.

She went down and down and down. She didn’t hit the water. There was someone waiting for her on a raft below. The other assailants joined them. After they started moving it dawned on her.

She was being kidnapped.

Chapter 3

Logan hit the water like a ton of bricks.

He was still reeling from the blow to the head. The hard slap against the surface didn’t help him regain his senses. He plummeted into the dark abyss, blood streaming from his scalp. Although he was an expert swimmer, among the best in his BUD/S class, he faltered. He was disoriented. He couldn’t tell up from down.

Panic gripped him, and he let out a silent scream. Bubbles emerged from his mouth. Bubbles that led him toward the surface.

He swam hard and broke through, gasping for breath.

Good God. He’d almost drowned like a rookie. Worse, he’d been easily overpowered by a couple of lightweights—after almost banging a woman in the hallway outside his room. How embarrassing. He wasn’t even drunk. Extreme lust wasn’t an excuse. Neither was his injury. He’d let three unarmed men get the drop on him.

He was lucky to be alive.

He touched his brow, wincing. He felt nauseous. His vision sucked. He had a concussion, no doubt about it. He spent the next few minutes treading water, waiting for his thoughts to clear. He couldn’t seem to focus.

Damn. He might still drown yet.

While he struggled to stay alert, he became aware of a raft in the vicinity. It was dark, and he couldn’t see anything but vague shapes. The black expanse of the cruise ship hull loomed against the foamy breakwater. There was a figure sliding down a rope from the balcony of Logan’s cabin to the raft below.

The raft had a motor, but they didn’t engage it. Maybe it made too much noise for a stealthy getaway. Two men used paddles instead, cutting quickly through the chop. Logan counted four heads on the raft. One was lumpy, as if wearing a hood.

Cadence.

They’d taken her. She was the target of this raid, not him. He didn’t know why...and now he was faced with a tough decision. He could follow the raft and try to rescue her, or stay here and save himself.

SEALs were taught to put the team above themselves, but they were also taught that dead men couldn’t help anyone. Sometimes self-rescue had to be the top priority. Logan knew he couldn’t keep pace with the swift-moving cruise ship. There was no way to climb aboard. These vessels were built to discourage pirates, not give them a convenient ladder. The only way to get rescued was to shout for help and hope someone heard him.