Read SEAL Under Siege (Men of Valor) for Free Online

arms over her chest and grabbing her opposite shoulders. “Can I get you a glass of water or a soda?”
    “No, thanks. I should get going.” He motioned to the door. “The paramedic said you should try to get some rest. You’ll probably be pretty sore tomorrow.”
    Just as his hand connected with the doorknob, she grabbed his other arm—then dropped it as if he burned her fingers. “What do I do if he comes after me again?”
    He let go of the door and reached to give her elbow a reassuring squeeze before letting his hand fall to his side. She sure hadn’t appreciated his touch that afternoon. “I doubt he knows where you live. Is your name on this property?”
    “No. My parents bought it as an investment property a couple years before I left for Lybania. A friend of mine stayed here while I was gone.”
    That was good. Anyone could look up property owners in the county recorder’s office, but Hayes was a common name. “You’ll be safe. And your car will be in the shop for at least a week, so he won’t be able to use it to ID where you live. Do you have someone who can run errands for you, if you need?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then you’re all set.”
    “But what if...”
    Her tone gouged at his stomach, and he couldn’t walk away. She wasn’t playing the part of a lost little girl nor tempting him with her feminine charm. Fear shook her voice, and those three little words carried a heavy weight of meaning.
    She knew the truth as clearly as he did.
    Someone was after her. And until he was caught, she wouldn’t be safe.
    He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to do what he’d done in Lybania. But he couldn’t just pick her up and carry her to safety. He wasn’t supposed to have any contact with her. And explaining to his CO that he’d watched her get run off the road wasn’t going to change the rule.
    She would be safe enough in her home for now. And he could turn this whole thing over to his buddy in the FBI.
    But he couldn’t walk away from the tremor in her voice.
    “If something happens, call me.” He moved his hand as though he was wielding a pen. “Do you have something to write on?”
    She shuffled papers in a mail organizer, finally pulling out a white envelope with a clear, plastic window, shoving the paper and a pencil into his hands. He scribbled his number down and handed it back to her.
    She smiled, the light never quite reaching her eyes. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.” He turned to go but stopped with the door only partially open. “Try to get some rest this weekend.”
    She followed him to the cement slab that could hardly be called a porch, despite its overhang. “All right.”
    He made it to the last of three steps before her voice stopped him again.
    “Wait.”
    He glanced over his shoulder, squinting into her soft features, her pink lips glistening in the evening sun.
    “If I have to phone, what do I call you?” She held the envelope in front of her.
    “L.T. is fine.”
    “How can I trust you if I don’t even know your first name?”
    His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. The last time a woman had tried so hard to get his first name, the first use she’d made of it had been to ask him out on the date that started a one-year-long relationship. She’d said his name so sweetly before she’d kissed him, slow and thorough.
    That last time.
    Before he’d boarded a transport and left her all by herself.
    But Staci wasn’t Robin. And she certainly wouldn’t be kissing him. If there wasn’t a first, then there couldn’t be a last kiss.
    “Tristan. But hardly anyone calls me that.”
    “Why not?”
    He put his hands on his hips, still squinting up at her from the bottom of the steps. “They just don’t. Everyone on the team has a nickname, and we use them.”
    “All right.” She took a breath then quickly added, “L.T.,” as if it were an afterthought. And for a split second he wished she’d called him by his real name. “Thank you.”
    She waved the