Navy Seal Six Pack

Chapter Three

Montana hated shopping. After trying on the fourth set of trousers, the fifth button-down shirt and the third suit jacket, he’d had enough. “What’s wrong with this one?” he asked. Other than he’d probably rip the damned thing when he went after the bad guys. One right uppercut and he’d bust out the stitches.

SOS Agent Nicole Steele, who preferred to go by her nickname of Tazer, shook her head. “We need to go another size larger. You can’t move in that jacket. Good Lord, Ben, what do they feed men in Montana?” She waved to the attendant and asked him to bring another size larger. “We have a seamstress on standby to make the alterations quickly.”

“Seriously, I don’t need but one suit and a pair of casual pants.”

“Not if you want to blend in with the rich and politically elevated,” Tazer said. “Now quit bellyaching. How did you ever make it through BUD/S training?”

“I sure as hell didn’t have to wear a suit and dress shirt. I only had to worry about drowning in the sea or falling flat on my face in the mud. For that matter, it was a cakewalk compared to this.”

“Big baby. You’ll be happy when it fits properly,” Tazer said. “Hurry up. We still have to get Kate tricked out.”

Kate sat beside Tazer, her lips twitching.

Montana pointed a finger. “Don’t say a word.”

She held up her hands. “Did I?”

“No, but I can feel you want to.”

She drew a line across her lips. “My lips are sealed.” Her gray eyes flashed. “But if I were to say something, it would be along the lines of ‘think of these clothes as a uniform.’”

“Not helping,” he said, and yanked the jacket off his shoulders.

The attendant handed him another jacket and quickly stepped back, as if afraid Montana would take a swing at him.

Montana shrugged into the garment. The sooner he got through this, the better. He knew what size jeans he wore and the brand that fit best. When he needed a new pair, he walked into the store, picked them out of the stacks and headed straight for the checkout counter. The end.

As the jacket settled around his shoulders, Montana hated to admit Tazer was right. This one wasn’t nearly as constricting and actually felt good on his body.

“Much better. Now, button the jacket.” Tazer and the attendant converged on him. While Tazer tugged, the clerk pinned. When they were done, Montana was afraid to move for fear of being stuck by one of the hundreds of pins sticking out of the material. He felt like a cross between a voodoo doll and a dressmaker’s dummy.

Then they went to work on the trousers, tugging and tucking the hem and the waistband. When they were done, Montana was hot, cranky and ready to be out of the building.

“Let me have the jacket.” Tazer held out her hands.

Montana started to take it off and was jabbed by a pin. “Ouch!”

“Here, let me.” Kate stood, eased the jacket from his shoulders and handed it to Tazer.

Tazer handed the jacket to the attendant, who hustled out of the room, presumably to take the garment to the seamstress.

“Now, out of those trousers.” Tazer held out her hands again.

Kate backed away. “Sorry. Can’t help you there.”

“Hurry up.” Tazer snapped her fingers. “We don’t have all day. Trust me, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

Montana glared. “You haven’t seen my anything before.”

Kate’s lips stretched into a wide grin and she turned her back, chuckling.

Montana stripped out of the trousers and slipped into his jeans.

“I’ll be back shortly with the clothes you’ll wear out of here.” Tazer left the dressing area.

Montana buttoned his jeans. “You can turn around now.”

Kate faced him. “I would have thought a SEAL would have no trouble stripping in front of a woman.”

“My mama—”

Kate waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah. Your mama taught you better. But you’re a SEAL. You fight hard and play rough.”

He shrugged. “It’s just who I am. I was taught to respect women, no matter how young or old.”

Kate shook her head. “You can take the cowboy out of Montana, but you can’t take the Montana out of the cowboy?”

“Something like that.” He tipped his head toward her. “What about you? Where did you grow up?”

She shook her head. “I was a military brat. We moved fifteen times before I turned eighteen. I’m not from anywhere.”

“What about your folks? Did your father retire somewhere you call home?” he asked.

Kate nodded. “He passed away. My mother has a condo in Wisconsin and she now works for a pediatrician.”

“I take it you don’t see her often.” Montana sat in one of the chairs and shoved his foot into one of his cowboy boots.

She stared in the direction Tazer had gone. “Not often enough. What about you?”

“I haven’t been back to Montana in two years. Just never seems to be enough time.”

“Where in Montana?” Kate turned toward him, her gaze capturing his.

“On a ranch south of Bozeman.”

“So you’re the real deal, then.”

“If you mean I’m a real cowboy, then yes. I’ve done just about everything that needs doing on a cattle ranch.” He pulled the second boot on and stood. “Enough about me. What about you? Why did they demote you in the CIA?”

She turned away, her mouth thinning into a firm line. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Suit yourself. But the more we know about each other, the better we will be able to work together. If I didn’t know my buddies on my SEAL team as well as I do, I wouldn’t be able to anticipate their reactions to different situations.”

“Fine.” She faced him, a frown pulling her brows together. “I screwed up. I fell for my partner, and he just happened to be a double agent for Russia.” She sighed. “I was a green rookie. I thought everyone who signed on with the CIA had been fully vetted and loved our country as much as I do.” Kate lifted her chin and stared straight into Montana’s eyes. “I learned my lesson. Don’t put your full faith and trust in anyone. And don’t fall for your partner.”

Montana nodded. “I’m sorry that happened to you. Must have hurt pretty bad.” He stepped toward the door. “You don’t have to worry about this partner. I’m a confirmed bachelor, and I’ve never even been to Russia.” He winked at her. “Let’s go find Tazer. It’s your turn to play dress-up.”

Montana had asked the hard question, but he’d rather know who he was working with and what made her tick. When the crap hit the fan, he wanted to know what she was made of and how she would react.

Kate McKenzie had taken a hit. More than likely, she wouldn’t trust him easily. He’d have to ease into her confidence a little at a time. He sure as hell hoped they had time to make that happen. In a life-and-death situation, Kate needed to know he had her six. He already knew she had his, based on the flying tackle she’d initiated earlier.

While the seamstress worked on the suit jacket and trousers for Montana, Tazer led them to the exclusive shop next door. Where the men’s shop was all dark wood and masculine, this one was light and airy. What amazed him was the lack of clothes racks. “Are they hiding the ladies’ clothing?” he whispered into Kate’s ear.

She glanced around. “No idea. Normally, I can’t afford to walk into a shop like this. Royce must have one helluva budget.”

The beautifully dressed and tastefully made-up attendant in high heels and perfect accessories shot a glance at Kate and Montana and then turned her attention to Tazer. “How might I help you?”

If the woman had thought to have an attitude about finding clothing for Kate, Tazer set her in her place quickly.

Tazer took Montana’s arm, pointed to a cushioned seat and ordered, “Sit.”

The attendant took Kate to a dressing room and then disappeared into the back of the shop with Tazer. They returned with a handful of dresses, blouses and trousers, and disappeared into the dressing room.

Already antsy and ready to be outside, Montana rose from the cushioned seat and paced.

Tazer emerged from the dressing room, looked around and spotted Montana. She pointed a finger. “You. Come with me.”

She took him to the back of the salon, where a barber’s chair stood in the middle of a small office. A woman with bright blue hair, armed with scissors and a comb, smiled at him. “Let’s get started.”

Unsure as to what they were to “get started” on, Montana shot a glance at Tazer.

She hooked his arm, led him to the chair and pointed. “Sit.”

Montana’s brows rose. “I’m beginning to feel like a dog in training.”

“Then act like one, and do as instructed.” Tazer clapped her hands sharply. “Come on, we don’t have all day. You two have a meeting tonight.”

“We do?”

“Yes. I’ll fill you in once we’re through the transformation.”

Half bent toward the seat, Montana paused. “Transformation?”

Tazer rolled her eyes. “Trust me.”

He figured hair grew back, but his buddies wouldn’t let him live down blue hair. Still, he knew they didn’t have time to argue, and Tazer seemed to know what she was doing.

Montana sat.

“By the way, I’m Karen,” said the hairstylist. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

Her scissors flashed and hair flew around him. She shaved his face with a wicked-looking straight razor, trimmed his eyebrows and plucked some of the wild hairs.

So far, he didn’t have a problem with what she’d done. He’d needed a haircut after being on vacation for two weeks, and his brows were a little on the bushy side. But when she brought out a bowl with powder and mixed in liquid from a bottle, he held up his hand. “What’s that?”

“Bleach.”

“For what?” he asked, leaning away from the bowl and what appeared to be a wide, flat paintbrush she was using to stir the contents.

“I’m going to lighten your hair.” She held up a photo of Rex Masters, Mica’s bodyguard. “I’m told you need to have this hair color.”

“Yeah, but will it be permanent?”

She shook her head. “It’ll grow out in a couple months.”

“Months!”

“Relax. It’s just hair. With your tan, the blond will look fabulous on you.”

Not liking the gleam in Karen’s eyes, Montana sat back and allowed the stylist to do her job. Tazer chose that hour to be absent.

Figures.

By the time the stylist finished and dried his hair, Montana was ready to bust through whatever doors stood in his way to getting outside.

Karen slapped a handheld mirror in his palm. “See? You look great.”

He glanced into the mirror, relieved he didn’t have blue hair, and was amazed at the resemblance between him and Mica Brantley’s bodyguard.

Karen had even lightened his eyebrows to a shade darker than his now sandy-blond hair.

“Good, you’re done.” Tazer appeared in the doorway with an armful of clothes. “Put these on.”

“Ever consider the word please?” Montana asked. The SOS agent might dress like a fashion model, but she was as lacking in manners as some of his SEAL buddies.

“No time.” Again, she clapped her hands. “Chop, chop!” Tazer disappeared again, leaving Montana with the stylist, who was gathering the tools of her trade.

“Thank you, Karen.” Montana pulled his wallet out of his pocket, prepared to tip the woman for a job well done.

She held up her hand. “No need to tip me. Miss Steele took care of everything. It was a pleasure.” She held out a card. “Look me up if you’re ever at a loose end.” With a wink, she left the office, closing the door behind her.

Montana shucked his clothes and slipped into the trousers and matching suit jacket, freshly altered. Though he preferred jeans and T-shirts, he had to admit the outfit, now that it had been adjusted, fit like a second skin. He drew the line at putting on the silk tie. Dressed, buttoned and wearing the new patent leather shoes Tazer had delivered with the suit, he stepped out of the office and went in search of Tazer and Kate.

The female attendant he’d met earlier found him wandering through the warehouse of dresses and clothes, and took his arm. “Miss Steele asked that you wait in the viewing area until the ladies are ready.” She ushered him into the lounge with the dressing room doors Kate had disappeared behind earlier.

Montana paced, his patience worn thin, his need to get outside an obsession.

Fifteen very long minutes later, Tazer walked out of the back warehouse area.

Kate followed, wearing a pale cream skirt suit that fit her long, athletic body like a kid glove. The matching high heels made her legs look even longer, the tight muscles of her calves bunching with each step.

Montana’s groin tightened and he fought to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor.

Her shoulder-length hair had been swept back into one of those French twist things women liked to wear. She looked amazing.

Kate’s gaze swept him from top to bottom. “I like you with dark hair better,” she said. “But you’ll do.”

“Not to worry.” Tazer nodded to the attendant. “Could you get the handbag I left in the back?”

She nodded and hurried through the door.

Once they were alone, Tazer handed Montana a bottle of dark liquid. “Before you go out tonight, put this in your hair and let it dry. You two are now Monty and Kayla Lindemann, good friends of the Brantleys. While you’re Monty, you’ll put the dye in your hair. When you have to switch to fill in for Rex, just wash it out.”

“What about me?” Kate asked. “I can’t just dye my hair black in a flash.”

“No, but you can wear this.” She handed Kate a bag.

Kate fished inside and pulled a wig halfway out. It was long, dark and straight, like Mica Brantley’s hair. Kate nodded. “Got it.”

“I’ve arranged for you and Mica to have matching outfits for the yacht club gala. You will arrive as the Lindemanns, but if anything happens that puts Mrs. Brantley in danger, we’re pulling her and Rex out and putting you two in as their replacements.”

“The event is tomorrow. What’s happening tonight?” Montana asked.

“You’re going to meet up with Mica at the Jefferson Hotel in downtown DC. She has the Martha Jefferson Penthouse Suite. The Lindemanns will be a floor below. You’re having dinner together. We’ll have the hotel covered with your SEAL team and SOS electronic surveillance.” She handed Montana a leather briefcase. “Everything you’ll need is in the case. Familiarize yourselves with the contents on the way over. Once inside the hotel, consider everything bugged. Act, live, breathe as if you really are the Lindemanns. We don’t know how deep the traitors are entrenched and in what government entities. Trust no one but the members of the team.”

Montana nodded, his free hand tightening into a fist. To think there were traitors within the organizations he would have thought he could trust made him all the more determined to take them down.

* * *

KATE AND MONTANA stepped through the front door of the dress shop and slid into the waiting limousine. Their new clothes had been packed into designer luggage and stored in the trunk of the car. They would take the long way around the city, be dropped off at the airport and later picked up by Mica Brantley’s car.

Montana opened the case Tazer had given him and extracted their orders and a dossier detailing who they were supposed to be, how they’d met Mica and her husband and why they were visiting her at the Jefferson.

“Mica and Trevor introduced us to each other in Paris.” Kate turned to Montana. “Have you been to Paris?”

His lips twisted. “I might prefer Montana to the big cities, but yes, I’ve been to Paris. How about you?”

She nodded. Her partner had taken her to Paris over a long weekend between assignments. Little had she known he had used their weekend away as an opportunity to pass information to his Russian contact. God, she’d been a fool, thinking he was in love with her and out getting little French pastries for their breakfasts. All along, he’d been working.

“Hey.” Montana touched a finger to her chin. “We’re supposed to be newlyweds. No long faces.”

“Sorry.” She read through the pages, committing the words to memory. “I’ve got this. Do you need to see it again?”

“No.”

“It says to shred the documents.” Kate glanced around the inside of the limousine. It didn’t surprise her to find a shredder. One last glance at the pages and she pushed them through the device.

Montana extracted a ring box from the case and opened it. “Hold out your left hand.”

Kate did as he asked.

“With this ring, I thee fake wed. I promise to have your six and pretend to love, honor and cherish you until this op is over.” Montana slipped on the engagement ring with the huge emerald cut diamond and matching wedding band.

Kate snorted. “Cute.” His big hands felt rough against hers, but warm and strong. She could imagine them sliding across her bare skin. With a start, she yanked her hand away. Now was not the time to be daydreaming about the man who would play her husband. “God, I hope this isn’t real. It looks like at least three carats.”

He removed the larger, plain wedding band from the box and started to slip it onto his ring finger.

“Wait.” Kate took the band from him. “It’s only fair.”

Montana’s lips quirked. “I’ve never been accused of being unfair.”

“Well, don’t start now,” she said. “With this ring, I thee fake wed. I promise to save your butt, should the need arise...again. And should you try anything without my permission, I promise to hurt you.” Kate raised her brows. “Got it?”

He held up his hand. “Got it. I won’t try anything without your permission.” As Kate took his upraised hand and slipped the ring onto his finger, Montana muttered, “I don’t try...I do.”

Kate glared at him. “This marriage is fake. Don’t forget that.”

“Trust me. I won’t.” Montana leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers in a brief brush of a kiss.

A blast of electricity ripped through Kate, followed by heat, searing a path through her chest and down low in her belly. She pressed her fingers to her lips. “Why did you do that?”

“Only seemed fitting, after tying the knot.” He winked, sending another rush of heat rushing through her veins. “Want me to take it back?”

She rubbed the back of her hand over her mouth, her head spinning. “You can’t take something like that back. Once given, it can’t be returned.”

“Oh well, I guess you’ll have to keep it.” He smiled and sat back against the plush leather seat.

“Well, don’t do it again.” Thankfully, the car pulled up to the curb at the Baltimore International Airport and dropped them off with their luggage.

Two minutes later, Mica Brantley’s limousine arrived, picked them up and drove them back into the city.

Once they’d switched chauffeur-driven vehicles, Kate remained silent, going over the script Tazer had given them. Not only did she have to know the details about the fictitious Lindemanns, she had to be prepared to step into Mica Brantley’s shoes at a moment’s notice. She had to know Mica’s idiosyncrasies, which would be much harder to pull off if they ran into anyone who knew her and Trevor Brantley.

Over an hour since they’d left the shops, the limousine pulled up in front of the Jefferson Hotel, one of the oldest and most expensive hotels in downtown DC. Once Monty and Kayla Lindemann got settled, they were to meet Mrs. Brantley for dinner.

The chauffeur opened the door.

Montana slid out first and then bent to offer his hand to Kate.

Reluctantly, she placed her fingers against his. That same shock of electricity rippled up her arm and showered warmth throughout her body. He had her so stirred up inside, she tripped over the curb.

If Montana hadn’t reached out and yanked her into his arms, smashing her against his chest, she’d have fallen face-first on the concrete sidewalk.

Instead, she was crushed to him, his arms like steel bands around her waist. When she got her feet under her, heat rose up her cheeks. “Sorry.”

He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “I’m not.” Then he hooked her with one of his big, capable hands and waved toward the door. “Ready?”

She nodded, though she couldn’t remember ever being so ill-prepared as she was at that moment. What worried her most was that she had no doubt she could play the part required. Keeping her head on straight and not falling even a little bit for the handsome SEAL would be the real challenge.

While the bellman retrieved their luggage, Montana dealt with the reception desk. Royce and Geek had been busy securing reservations, backdating them to make it appear as though Mr. and Mrs. Lindemann had planned their trip to DC weeks ago.

Kate took a moment to casually glance around the lobby, searching for anything that stood out. Suspicious characters, security cameras, lurking staff members...anything that might set off alarm bells in her head.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, nothing did. She spotted the requisite security cameras placed throughout the lobby for the protection of the wealthy guests.

A warm, rough hand curled around her elbow. “Ready?” Montana’s deep, rich voice filled her ear and spread over her body like melted butter—warm, smooth and penetrating every fiber of her being. She trembled.

How did he do that?

With a nod, she let him lead her through the lobby to the elevator.

Montana pushed the button for the seventh floor and then slipped his arm around her waist. “Feeling better?”

“I wasn’t aware I was feeling poorly.”

“You know...you don’t have a stomach for flying.” He pulled her against him.

“Oh, yes. I feel much better.” Aware of the camera in the upper right corner, she leaned into Montana. The thin fabric of her suit did little to guard her against her body’s reaction to his.

The elevator door slid open. Kate stepped out, afraid if she stayed any longer, her knees would wobble and refuse to hold her up.

Their room was the last door near the end of the hallway. A stairwell was located at the very end, marked with a sign For Emergency Use Only.

Montana ran the key card over the lock and the green light blinked. When he pushed, the door swung open on oiled hinges.

Kate entered first. Expertly decorated, the suite contained a sitting room, sleeping chamber and a large bathroom with a shower big enough to fit two.

Montana set the briefcase on a desk in the corner and flipped the spring-loaded latches. He opened the case and extracted a small monitor Kate recognized as the kind she’d used to check for surveillance devices. Bugs.

“Do you need to freshen up before we meet with Mica?” Montana asked, as he crossed to her and slipped the monitor into her palm.

“Sure, but you can go first.” She leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.