Jenna swayed, bracing her hands on his chest. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Why?”

“I barely know you.”

“You knew enough about me to find me on the beach and save me from an assassin. I reckon that gives us a pass on convention.”

She rested her forehead against his chest. “I didn’t come to Cancun to get involved with a man.” But, boy, had that backfired on her.

“And I have no business getting involved with you.” He gripped her shoulders and set her at arm’s length. “As a SEAL, I’m gone more than I’m home. And with an assassin after me, I can’t risk you becoming collateral damage.”

Navy SEAL

Captive

Elle James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ELLE JAMES, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at ellejames@earthlink.net or www.ellejames.com.

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This book is dedicated to my sister, Delilah Devlin, who was an officer in the US army. She has inspired me to be the best I can be in my military career and in my journey to publication. She’s my mentor, sounding board and critique partner. And she isn’t afraid to tell me like it is. I love you, Sis!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“Seriously. I can’t believe you talked me into this. And to go straight for the biggest first? Isn’t that pushing it?” Sawyer Houston adjusted the web seat and waited his turn on the platform. Perched on the edge of a two-hundred-foot cliff, staring down into the vast jungle, Sawyer balked. Cancún Adventures boasted the longest, most exciting zip line in Mexico, guaranteed to make you scream. Not, in Sawyer’s opinion, the most reassuring advertisement.

“It’s not like you to turn away from a challenge, Houston,” Quentin Lovett ribbed. “You’ve fast-roped out of helicopters, entered buildings full of terrorists and been shot at by rifles, machine guns and mortars.” Quentin snorted. “What’s a little ol’ zip line gonna hurt?”

“I don’t know who set it up, whether the cable is strong enough to withstand my weight or if there’s a way to stop me at the other end. Hell, I can’t see the other end, and plunging into a tree at the bottom isn’t my idea of fun. Besides, how would that look on my tombstone? ‘SEAL ends his navy career on vacation, sliding to his death on a poorly rigged zip line.’”

“Step aside.” Quentin circled Sawyer. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

“That’s right. Test the line. I’ll be sure to send your mother a letter telling of your bravery in the face of a zip line.”

A couple of women stood in front of Quentin. The curvy one in the khaki shorts and white Cancún T-shirt shook her head, her dark red curls bouncing with her nervous movements. “No. I’ve changed my mind.” She backed away from her friend with the short dark hair, running into Quentin.

“Whoa, darlin’.” Quentin steadied her, his brows rose and he winked at Sawyer.

“Sorry.” Her cheeks bloomed with color, and she hurriedly stepped away from him.

“Jenna, you have to do it,” the dark-haired, petite woman said. “It’s part of your kick-the-boring therapy.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of riding a roller coaster, not speeding through the jungle at Mach ten on a cable probably salvaged from a shipyard by people who might have used office staples to nail it to some tree ready to fall over at any minute.”

Sawyer took a breath for Jenna. How one woman could say all that without inhaling was beyond him. But she was kind of cute, and he didn’t blame her for her trepidation.

“Hey, I’ll go first to test it out,” the other woman said.

“No way, Carly. If you die, I’m stranded in the jungle with no one to get me back to the hotel to find my lost luggage.”

Sawyer’s lips quirked at the redhead’s adamant refusal to participate in the death-defying feat of zip-lining. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Jenna shot him a narrow-eyed glance before turning back to her friend. “Or you’ll be leaving me at the mercy of strangers, possibly mass murderers.”

The brunette rolled her eyes, then gave Sawyer a considering look. “He’s not a mass murderer, and he’s really cute. You could do worse. Now, I’m going. I’ll see you back at the parking lot.” She pulled on the gloves they’d been given and stepped up to the man in charge.

The man in the red Cancún Adventures T-shirt and black cotton shorts stubbed out his cigarette and hooked her belt to the cable. “If you want to slow, grab the cable with your glove. But don’t do it too soon, or you will stop in the middle of the cable,” he said in heavily accented English.

“Here’s to shaking it off and plotting a more adventurous course in your life.” The brunette leaned toward the cliff.

Jenna swayed toward her friend. “Carly, don’t—” But she was too late. Carly leaped off the cliff and raced toward the jungle at breakneck speed, squealing in delight.

Quentin chuckled. “Damn, she beat me to it.” He turned toward Sawyer. “Are you going to let a girl shame you?”

Sawyer crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s no shame in preferring to keep my bones intact.”

The redhead nodded, her gaze on her friend as she disappeared into the dark green jungle below. “That’s what I told Carly.” She glanced back at Sawyer. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for adventure.” Jenna bit her lip. “Or, at least, that was the point of this exercise.” Turning toward the cliff, she straightened her shoulders. “And, for the record, I’m not boring.”

“Didn’t say you were. Actually, you’re far from it,” Sawyer agreed, admiring her curvy figure and the shock of auburn hair that refused to be contained in the ponytail.

Quentin performed a sweeping bow in front of the woman. “Allow me.”

“Sure. I’m not in a hurry to plunge to my death.” She stepped back, this time bumping into Sawyer.

He wrapped an arm around her, absorbed the impact of her body and breathed in the flowery scent of her hair. Nope. Not boring at all. With her small body pressed close to his, he forgot all about the zip line and his argument with Quentin.

“Sorry,” she mumbled and stepped to his side and out of his embrace, her cheeks flushing a soft pink.

Everywhere she’d touched him still resonated with the warmth of her body. Sawyer’s groin tightened.

“Nothing to it.” Quentin allowed the attendant to hook his D-ring to the pulley and held on to the cable with his gloved hand. “See you at the bottom, if you have the guts to do it.” He winked, lifted his legs and took off, sliding to his doom in the jungle, whooping and hollering as he went.

Jenna drew in a long breath and let it out on a sigh. “I did come to Cancún to start over and be more adventurous.”

Sawyer smiled. “You don’t have to do the zip line to be adventurous.”

“No?” She glanced at him hopefully, her face brightening. Then her brows drew together, and she stiffened. “Yeah, but I don’t ever want to be accused of being boring again.”

“I take it someone called you boring,” Sawyer said.

She lifted her chin. “My ex-fiancé.”

“He must have been blind.”

“And a cheating bastard.” She stepped up to the attendant. “I’m going.”

“You want me to go with you?” Sawyer offered.

She shook her head. “No. I’ll be fine. If Carly can do it, so can I.” Jenna stared at the attendant, biting her lip. “I’m ready.”

The attendant gave her the same instructions he’d given to Quentin and Carly.

Jenna closed her eyes and said, “Could you give me a little push?” Her hands shook on the line hooked to the pulley as she drew in a ragged breath.

The attendant nodded, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth, and gave her a hefty shove. Her small body flew out over the cliff and raced to the bottom. A long, high-pitched scream ripped through the air, fading the farther away she went.

“Damn.” Sawyer checked his nylon web belt, which fit snugly around his legs, and stepped up to the attendant. “Guess I’m going, too.”

He turned to the man behind him, hoping that one last person would talk him out of taking the plunge.

The tall, muscular man with light brown hair and steely gray eyes stared right through him.

Nope. There’d be no help on that front.

When he stepped up to the edge, the attendant blocked him with his hand. “Wait until the senorita makes it to the bottom.”

The attendant waited a full minute before he snapped Sawyer’s link onto the line, repeated the instructions and left Sawyer teetering on the edge of the cliff, praying the cable held and the glove would do its job and slow his descent. In the back of his mind, he hoped that he’d find the woman he’d held in his arms for that brief second to thank her for shaming him into jumping off a cliff when his gut told him he was crazy.

He jumped.

Sawyer fell into the jungle, his speed picking up as he swished past treetops, the wind clearing his head and sharpening his mind. As he dropped below the canopy of trees, he could make out the base and Quentin standing at the bottom.

But he wasn’t slowing, and at the pace he was going, he’d crash into the pole at the bottom. How had he let his teammate talk him into sliding down a cable he hadn’t personally inspected? If he lived through this, he’d have a word or two with Quentin.

He gripped the line with his gloved hand, slowing a little, enough to give him a slight amount of reassurance he could stop himself before he crashed into the pole at the other end. For the first time since he jumped off the upper platform, he glanced around at the jungle below. When he looked back at his destination, his heart leaped.

The distance closed faster than he expected and before he knew it, he was careening the last fifty feet into the base. Sawyer grabbed the cable with the gloved hand and squeezed. The wind no longer whipped past him, and his descent slowed the closer he came to the bottom. He couldn’t remember being that terrified since his first fast-rope experience out of a fully operational helicopter hovering thirty feet from the ground.

Ten feet from his feet touching the ground, the cable jolted in his hand. Sawyer bounced in the harness and then dropped like a ton of bricks to the ground. He tucked and rolled, absorbing the impact, and then sprang to his feet. What the hell had just happened?

The attendant at the bottom yelled something in Spanish and threw himself into the jungle. Quentin followed suit.

Sawyer spun in time to see the cable springing back toward him, detached from the pole at the other end. He dived to the right and ducked behind a tree. The cable whipped through the treetops like an angry snake and finally lay still on the ground.

His heart pounding like a bass drum, Sawyer leaped to his feet and yelled, “Everyone okay?”

Quentin climbed out of the brush, pulling leaves out of his hair. “Holy crap. Did you see that?”

Sawyer’s jaw tightened, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. “Saw and felt it.”

“If you’d been a couple seconds later on that cable...” Quentin shook his head and clapped Sawyer on the back. “Damn, buddy. I hate it when you’re right.”

Sawyer brushed the dirt off his hands. “In this case, I wish I hadn’t been right.”

While the zip-line attendant scrambled to his feet, swearing in Spanish, Sawyer unbuckled the nylon straps from around his legs and let the harness drop. “Next time you want me to slide down a zip line...”

Quentin held up his hands. “Don’t worry. There won’t be a next time.” He felt his pockets and cursed. Then he dived into the brush and came up with his cell phone. “The good news is I got it all on video. The guys are gonna die when they see this.”

Sawyer snorted. “I almost died living it.”

Quentin shoved the phone into his pocket and turned toward the exit. “I have to admit, I was surprised to see you coming. But even more surprised when the redhead came down first.”

Sawyer glanced around and didn’t see the woman named Jenna anywhere. “I take it Jenna arrived safely at the bottom.”

“She did. She and her pretty friend left, claimed they needed to get back to find a piece of missing luggage. The redhead told me to tell you thanks for the encouragement.”

Disappointed he’d missed her, but glad she’d gone before him when the cable was still intact, Sawyer asked, “You didn’t happen to catch her full name, did you?”

“She didn’t offer a last name.” Quentin turned back to Sawyer. “Why? Are you interested?”

Again, Sawyer shrugged. “Just wondered.” Hell, yes, he was interested, but he’d be damned if he let Quentin know. He’d pick at him incessantly.

“I did get her roommate’s name, though.” Quentin patted his smartphone. “Carly Samuels. We have a date tonight.”

Figured. Quentin didn’t waste time when it came to women. He was a charmer, and women fell for him all the time. Perhaps the best-looking man on the team with his black hair and ice-blue eyes, he usually had his pick of the ladies.

Quentin had a date and Duff was with his lady friend, Natalie, leaving Sawyer and Montana fending for themselves for dinner and drinks. Which suited Sawyer just fine. Montana was a big, outdoorsy mountain man who didn’t say much but was good company. They had a week and a half left of their two weeks in Cancún. Granted, he loved his SEAL teammates like brothers, but he could use a little quality time away from them, preferably in the company of someone of the opposite sex.

As they slid into the rented Jeep, Quentin turned to Sawyer. “You had a few minutes alone with her. Why didn’t you get her name and number? We could have gone on a double date.”

“We weren’t alone. The attendant was there. And who said I wanted to go out with her, anyway?” And he sure as hell wouldn’t go on a double date with Quentin. No, if Sawyer had gotten Jenna’s number, he’d have taken her out alone. Maybe for a walk along the beach in the moonlight. If she showed even the slightest interest, he might have stolen a kiss. Those pretty pink lips she’d chewed on prior to taking the big leap on the zip line were full and plump. Made for kissing.

“You’ve got to get out there, be more sociable, network and sell yourself.”

Sawyer’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel at Quentin’s comment. He’d heard the same words from his father’s mouth on more than one occasion. Quentin was right. He hadn’t dated in a while, and he was getting rusty at socializing with women.

What Quentin and his father never understood was that Sawyer didn’t like being in the limelight. Especially in front of all of his father’s peers. He’d rather be the best he could be at his job in the navy SEALs, the one place he’d proven he was good enough to make the cut. Besides, wearing the uniform was usually all he needed to find a date when he really wanted one. Too bad he was in civvies here.

“So do you have plans for tonight?” Quentin asked.

“Yeah. I plan on spending the afternoon on the beach. Maybe I’ll rent a WaveRunner. Then I’m going to eat seafood and have a few beers with Montana. I don’t have to live for excitement like you.”

Quentin shook his head. “Since excitement seems to follow us, you might need a little rest and relaxation.” He linked his hands behind his neck. “Missions always leave me wired, ready to expend some energy.”

“Like winding the springs on a watch?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Not me. We’ve spent the past few months either training or performing back-to-back missions. I could use some downtime to regroup and get my head on straight.”

“Well, you do your thing. I’ll do mine.” Quentin shot a grin his way. “With the adventurous and beautiful Carly.”

Sawyer almost opened his mouth and asked Quentin to secure the phone number for Carly’s friend Jenna. Then he thought better of it. He didn’t need Quentin to find him a woman. If he really wanted to go out with her, he’d find her himself. She had to be somewhere in Cancún. The resort area wasn’t that big. He might even run into her on the beach.

His pulse quickened at the thought.

* * *

EVEN AFTER THE long drive back to the resort, Jenna Broyles still shook from her experience on the zip line.

“I can’t believe you actually did it,” Carly said for the tenth time as she got out of the rental car and met Jenna in front of the hood. “I’m so proud of you.” She hugged her and stood beaming like a mother bird on her chick’s first flight. “So how does it feel to be adventurous?”

Jenna pressed a hand to her belly. “A little nauseating.”

Carly laughed. “You’ll get over it. Just like you’ll get over being stood up at the altar.”

That reminder bit into Jenna’s newfound adventurous spirit. Though it had been almost two months since she’d stood in the anteroom at the church, wondering where Audra, her maid of honor, was and waiting for her cue to walk down the aisle, it still hurt that her groom hadn’t bothered to come to his own wedding. He’d not only failed to appear but also run off with the maid of honor.

Jenna had been adjusting the veil over her hair, wishing her mother could have lived to be there at her wedding, when the text had come through.

Sorry. Can’t make the wedding. Changed my mind. Keep the tickets for the honeymoon.

She’d stood dry-eyed, shocked and unable to comprehend what had happened, until her father came through the door to lead her down the aisle. One look at her face and he’d grabbed the phone from her hand.

After a few choice words, he’d hustled her out of the church into the waiting limousine and taken her to the home she’d grown up in, where she could lick her wounds. Carly had done the honors of sending everyone home and canceling the reception and wedding band. She’d joined Jenna and her father at the ranch, ready to take one of the rifles over the mantel to Tyler’s lying, cheating heart.

Jenna had heard through the grapevine that Tyler had slept with Jenna’s former best friend, Audra, on the night of his bachelor party. He claimed Audra was more fun than his boring bride, and he couldn’t go through with the wedding knowing he’d be stuck in a mundane marriage for the rest of his life.

Jenna had planned her wedding for the date her parents had been married in February. But as an accountant, she couldn’t plan their honeymoon until after tax season. She’d almost forfeited her tickets until Carly talked her into going. She needed to show Tyler and, more important, herself that she wasn’t boring. She knew how to be adventurous.

Of course, she had to take Carly along with her to show her how to do it.

Carly pulled in front of the resort hotel, shifted into Park and got out.

“Aren’t you going to park it yourself?” Jenna asked. “I don’t mind walking a little.”

Carly clucked her tongue. “Don’t be so tight. We’re only here for ten days. You might as well live a little. Let the valet park it for us.” Her friend tilted her head. “Come on. It won’t kill you to be a bit extravagant.”

“I just don’t like spending when I don’t need to,” Jenna grumbled as she got out of the vehicle and joined Carly on the sidewalk.

Carly handed over the keys to the valet and sauntered into the hotel.

Once inside, Jenna eyed the front desk. “I’m going to ask whether my suitcase has arrived.”

“Okay. I’ll go on up and be first in the shower. I have a date with Quentin tonight.” Carly frowned. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Jenna did mind. She didn’t enjoy eating alone in a restaurant. But she didn’t want to hold Carly back from having fun. “I don’t mind at all. I was thinking of splurging, like you said, and ordering room service and soaking in that incredible hot tub.”

“Mmm.” Carly grinned. “Sounds great. And I’ll definitely want to be out of the room when you do it. That’s one disadvantage to having the bridal suite. It was meant to be shared with your lover, not your girlfriend.” She winked. “You should order champagne and do it right.”

“Why? It’s not like I’m celebrating.”

“Yes, you are.” Carly hooked her arm and marched her toward the concierge. “You’re celebrating your liberation from marrying the wrong guy.” She stopped and faced the concierge. “We’d like to order a lovely bottle of champagne delivered to the bridal suite.”

“No, really.” Jenna’s face heated. “It’s not necessary.”

The man behind the counter stared from Carly to Jenna and back. “Which is it to be?”

Carly shook her head. “Champagne to the bridal suite within the next twenty minutes.” She named a brand that Jenna hoped was on the cheaper end of the wine list. “Thank you.” She grabbed Jenna’s hand and tugged her toward the elevator. “Come on. You have some hot-tubbing to do.”

Jenna dug her feet into the tile floor. “I will, but I need to check on my missing luggage.”

Carly let go of her hand and nodded. “That’s right. And I was headed for the shower and a date.” She saluted. “I’ll see you in the suite. I hope your bag came in.” Her overwhelmingly cheerful friend spun away and disappeared into the elevator.

Jenna waited at the bellman’s stand next to the registration desk. A rush of young people converged on the desk, tying up the bellmen and the clerks. A gentleman stood close to the bellman’s stand, tapping his toe impatiently as he checked into the hotel.

Jenna could see everyone was busy and figured it would take time for anyone to free up and help her. Prepared to return later, she spotted her hard-sided gray case between the registration counter and the bellman’s desk.

Excited that her suitcase had finally arrived, she scooped it up and headed for the elevator, saving the bellman one more person to deal with. Glad to have the case with her dinner clothes inside it, now she could relax and enjoy the rest of her “honeymoon.”

As she stepped into the elevator, she thought of Carly and the man she’d just met at the zip-line excursion. Was her friend brave or foolish to go out with a man she knew nothing about?

Deep down, Jenna wished the man called Sawyer had asked for her number or asked to take her out on a date while in Cancún. She and Carly could have double-dated with the two men.

Perhaps she was being silly, but she’d thought she’d felt a connection with him. The warmth of his body at her back, the security of his arm around her waist.

Was she so desperate to be with a man, she had started reading into things? Hadn’t she learned with Tyler that men weren’t attracted to women like her? Or at least not for long. She was too boring, afraid to take risks, stuck in her ways.

Jenna tugged the rubber band out of her hair and shook her unruly curls loose. Well, maybe it was time to be more daring. She’d ask Carly to get the number for her date’s friend.

In the meantime, Jenna had a date with a bottle of champagne and a hot tub.

Funny thing was...she didn’t even like champagne.

No sooner had she entered her room than Carly stepped out of the shower. “I’m done if you want to rinse off,” she called out. The door to the bathroom stood wide-open. Carly leaned against the counter, applying makeup, her slim, athletic body wrapped in a towel.

“No, I’ll wait for the hot tub,” Jenna said and set her case on the floor.

“The champagne beat you here. Help yourself. I already poured a glass.” She turned and raised her glass, then drank a sip of the sparkling liquid.

Jenna figured that since it was paid for, she might as well try to enjoy it and poured a glass. She carried it to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. The sun was still up, shining over the water. People crowded the beach, some swimming, others soaking up the sun. Families corralled children, and lovers lay entwined on towels, smooching as if they were the only ones on the beach.

Sighing, Jenna downed a long gulp of the bubbly liquid. This would have been her and Tyler’s honeymoon had he gone through with the marriage.

Now, two months after the horrible embarrassment of being jilted at the altar, she was glad she hadn’t married Tyler. They might already have been divorced or had the wedding annulled. Jenna would never have been happy with him. They were too different. She wanted a man who could be faithful. He wasn’t.

The ping of a cell phone sounded from the bathroom.

“Whoops.” Carly raced out of the bathroom, fluffing her short, dark, damp hair. She threw on a powder-blue sundress and strappy stilettoes and grabbed her purse. “Quentin is waiting for me downstairs.”

“Isn’t it early to go to dinner?” Jenna stared out at the beach.

“He wants to take me driving around first. Then we’re going to walk on the beach. After that, we’ll do dinner and dancing.” She smiled. “He wants to get to know me.” Carly hugged Jenna and bussed her cheek. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t, and enjoy your hot tub and champagne.”

“I will.” Jenna sighed as Carly hurried out, the door closing automatically behind her.

As soon as the door closed, Jenna cursed. She’d meant to ask Carly to get the phone number for Quentin’s friend.

She teetered on the balls of her feet, tempted to run after her friend, but didn’t. For a long moment Jenna stared at that door as if it were a barrier to her self-esteem.

Why was she staying in her room, soaking in a tub, when she could be out, enjoying the sunshine and salty air? Wasn’t she there to be adventurous? What better way than to go outside and experience life?

Scrapping the idea of a long soak in the hot tub, she stripped down to her underwear and slung her case up on the bed. She refused to hide in the honeymoon suite when she could be out having fun. With a determined flip of her hair, she flicked the latches. They didn’t open. Funny. She hadn’t locked them, knowing airport security would want to inspect for illegal or potentially dangerous items. Hell, she hadn’t thought to bring the key. And yet somehow, the locks had engaged.

She fished in her purse for her metal file and went to work jimmying the locks one at a time until finally they each sprang open. Jenna straightened triumphantly. One more hurdle overcome. She could do anything when she set her mind to it. “Boring... Ha!”

Jenna flung open the case, ready to pull out her sexy black dress.

For a moment, she stared into the case, her mind slow to realize this wasn’t her case at all.

“Oh no.” On top was a layer of clothing. Dark trousers, dark, long-sleeved T-shirts, a black ski mask. Things she would expect to see in a case bound for the ski slopes or a really cold climate, not the tropics.

Jenna closed the case and stared down at it, wondering what to do with it. There was no luggage tag on the outside identifying the owner should the case be lost.

Feeling guilty already about forcing the case open, she lifted the lid and glanced inside again. Maybe there was some form of identification buried inside.

Carefully lifting the clothes, she set them aside on the bed. Beneath the clothing was nothing. Strangely, the case still seemed heavy, and it was deeper on the outside than the inside. Was there a false bottom? She ran her hand around the inside of the case, searching for a lever or button to push. Finally she found it, sliding the device to the left. The divider popped up enough that she could slip her fingers beneath it and lift.

Jenna gasped.

Parts of what appeared to be a rifle lay disassembled in a bed of foam, including the stock, butt, scope and bolt. A manila envelope lay on top of the weapon.

Why would a man need to bring his gun to Cancún? Was he part of a marksman team?

Her stomach knotting, Jenna refused to think past this being a competitive marksman’s prize rifle. With no other identification to be found, she lifted the envelope, hoping to find the owner’s name and cell phone number inside.

Flipping up the prongs on the metal clasp, she opened it and spilled the contents onto the bed.

Photographs, money and a note lay on the comforter.

She examined the wad of cash secured by a rubber band and counted fifty one-hundred-dollar bills. Holy crap. Five thousand dollars. Her knees trembled. Who carried around five thousand dollars in cash?

Jenna picked up the photographs, her eyes widening. The man in the picture had dark hair and dark eyes. He was nice-looking, dressed in dark jeans and a black T-shirt. The material of the shirt stretched over broad, muscular shoulders. Tattoos peeked from beneath the sleeves.

Jenna peered closer, her breath catching in her throat. She recognized the man in the photo as the man she’d met on the zip-line platform not an hour earlier.

Her hand shaking, she unfolded the note. Her pulse slowed and her blood turned cold.

Bring him to the agreed-upon location by 9:00 p.m. Dead or alive.

A lead weight sank to the pit of Jenna’s belly. She’d wanted adventure, but not this much. At that moment, she’d settle for being boring Jenna.

Chapter Two

When Sawyer returned to the resort, he went to the bungalow he’d rented for his two-week stay, shed his jeans and pulled on a pair of swim trunks. After sweating in the humidity of the jungle, he could think of nothing he’d rather do than go for a dip in the ocean.

Grabbing a towel, he headed out the door and nearly ran into Montana.

“Hey, Sawyer!” Montana backed up a step. “You look like a man on a mission.”

“I am. There’s a WaveRunner with my name on it out there somewhere.”

Montana chuckled. “I take it the zip-lining wasn’t your style.”

“Not particularly.” Though the woman he’d met was. Jenna. Damn, he could kick himself for not asking for her number. Oh, well. He eyed Montana in his swim trunks, T-shirt and flip-flops. “You heading for the beach?”

“I am. Thought I’d improve on my tan.” He grinned. “Girls love a tan, right?”

Sawyer turned on the boardwalk path, heading for the ocean. “No date for tonight?”

Montana shook his head. “No. But then, I wasn’t really looking.”

“Me, either.” He hadn’t been looking and hadn’t made an attempt when the opportunity bumped into him. He’d be smart to go ahead and ask Quentin to get her number, or he’d spend the rest of the vacation wishing he’d been quicker to seize the moment. “I’m going to rent a WaveRunner. Wanna go in half?”

“Sure!” Montana flung his towel over his shoulder. “Been a while since I’ve ridden one.”

“Can’t imagine the lakes getting warm enough in Montana for a WaveRunner.”

“You’d be surprised. We have long days in the summer. Gives the water a chance to warm up.”

“From snowmelt?” Sawyer snorted. “Not as warm as the water gets off Virginia Beach.”

“Maybe not that warm, but a little warmer than the water off San Diego.”

Sawyer shivered. “BUD/S training gave a whole new meaning to word miserable.”

“Yeah, but I have no regrets.”

“Same here.” He’d grown up in a wealthy household. Everything he’d wanted, he could have by just asking. BUD/S training had been a real culture shock and an assault on his body, physically and mentally. But he’d be damned if he failed and went home to hear his father say “I told you so.”

Everything Sawyer did was to prove to himself he could do anything he set his mind to. Not because his father could get him the position or smooth his way. He didn’t want his father’s help. Hell, he didn’t want anything to do with his father.

The man had given him anything money could buy, but he hadn’t been much of a parent. He’d never played ball with him. Never made one of his parent-teacher conferences at school. When Sawyer crashed his motorcycle and broke his arm, his father was in Paris with his fiancée. He didn’t bother to come home and check that Sawyer was all right.

He never once showed up at one of his football games. Hell, he didn’t want him to play football. He’d said the sport was too hard on a man’s body. It wrecked the knees. Not that he cared if his son was injured. His advice was from a practical viewpoint. Why destroy your body when you needed it to get you through to old age?

Being raised in a mansion with formal living areas and white carpets had been stifling to Sawyer. He’d never thought he could be himself. He was always the politician’s son. On display in his best clothes. Sawyer felt more at ease near the sea, with sand between his toes and the sun warming his skin, wearing nothing but a swimsuit.

“There.” Montana pointed down the beach, where a number of WaveRunners rested on the sand. A small tent stood nearby with a menu of prices listed on a chalkboard.

They wove their way between families playing with their children in the sand and bikini-clad beach babes slathered in oil and baking in the sun. Sawyer didn’t slow to stare at the beautiful bodies. He wanted to be racing across the water, crashing through the waves, letting the wind and ocean wash thoughts of his lonely childhood from his mind. He had his SEAL brothers now. They were the best family a man could have. They’d be there for him, no matter what.

Sawyer slapped a wad of bills in the attendant’s hand. “We’ll take one for an hour.”

The man pocketed the cash, instructed them on the use of the equipment and helped push a WaveRunner out to the water’s edge.

Sawyer nodded to Montana. “You can go first.”

“You sure? This was your idea.”

“I can wait. Just don’t wreck it before I get a chance to ride.” He twisted his lips into a wry grin. “It’s not like riding a horse.”

Montana laughed, hitched his shorts as if he were a real cowboy dressed in jeans and cowboy boots, and then swung his leg over the seat as if he was mounting a horse. “It’s more like riding a horse than you think. But then, riding a horse can be a lot more difficult for you city slickers.”

“Keep it up, Montana, and I’ll show you a real rodeo on the water.”

“Only thing that’ll convince me is if you rope a shark, hog-tie him and bring him in to roast on a spit. Montana-style.” Montana gunned the throttle and shot out into the water. He hit a small wave head-on, crashing through the crest to emerge on the other side. “Yee-haw!” he yelled and raced out to sea.

Sawyer sat in the wet sand, adjusting the cell phone in his pocket, glad he’d thought to slip it into a waterproof bag before he’d left the bungalow. He let the water lap over his feet and legs, enjoying the sun on his back, the fresh air and the taste of salt on his lips.

The first few days in Cancún had been a lot more than any of them had bargained for. Looking for relaxation, fun and maybe some female companionship, they’d come to Cancún ready for a much-deserved vacation.

Duff had been the first of the men to find a female companion. And boy, did he know how to pick one. Natalie, a former government secret agent, had come to find her sister, who’d disappeared on a diving excursion.

When Duff offered to help, all four members of SEAL Boat Team 22 who’d come to Cancún were engaged to find and liberate women who’d been kidnapped and readied for auction in a human trafficking ring.

Rest and relaxation. Ha!

Since when did getting shot at count as recreation?

Quentin, Montana and Sawyer could have told Duff where he could go with his plan to help, but that was not what friends did—not what SEAL brothers did. They stuck together and helped each other through good times and bad. And if there were guns and bad guys involved, that was when they did their best work.

Sawyer leaned back in the surf and let the warm, clear ocean water ebb and flow over his skin. Now that they’d retrieved the women and sent most of them to their respective homes, the team could finish their vacation in peace.

Montana hopped across several more waves, shouting like a fool and laughing in the sun. A wave hit him broadside and knocked the big cowboy into the water.

Laughing, Sawyer stood, brushing sand off his shorts.

Montana dragged himself up the back of the craft, mounted the WaveRunner and powered into the shore, pulling up on the sand beside Sawyer. Grinning, he shook the water from his hair. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Great.”

Montana climbed off and stood to the side.

Finally Sawyer had his turn. He and Montana turned the vehicle in the sand to aim it outward.

Sawyer swung his leg over the body of the craft and settled onto the cushioned seat. As he twisted the throttle, a shout sounded behind him.

* * *

AS SOON AS Jenna realized who the man in the photographs was, she’d grabbed her cell phone and called Carly.

Her friend didn’t answer. Instead, she texted.

What do you need? We’re in a convertible. I can’t hear over the wind.

Get Quentin to give you the number for his friend.

Carly responded with a smiley face and a note.

His name is Sawyer.

Her heart racing, Jenna paced the floor. Every time she passed the case on the bed, her stomach clenched and she muttered, “Holy crap.”

Someone had been paid to deliver Sawyer dead or alive to some undisclosed location. Armed with that information, Jenna couldn’t stand by and let the would-be assassin succeed in his mission. She had to warn Sawyer. The sooner the better. The assassin might have more than this rifle at his disposal. And he had a deadline to meet.

Her first thought was to call the police. But no crime had been committed at that point. And hell, what if they thought she was the owner of the weapons? They’d throw her in a Mexican jail to rot. All the reports she’d heard about the Mexican government being owned by the drug cartels didn’t give her much faith in their ability to stop this kidnapping or assassination from occurring.

Jenna glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was already three in the afternoon. That meant six hours until the assassin had to deliver his prize.

Jenna’s phone pinged with Carly’s text. It contained a phone number, the name of a nearby resort hotel and a message.

Sawyer was planning to go to the beach this afternoon and rent a WaveRunner. You might find him there. Have fun!

“Have fun? Are you kidding me?” With a near-hysterical laugh, Jenna dialed the number and waited, gripping her cell phone so hard, she was afraid she’d break it. On the third ring, a male voice answered.

“Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” The voice was the same rich baritone she’d heard on the zip-line platform.

Jenna closed the damning suitcase and shoved it high on a shelf in her closet, hoping that would calm her frazzled nerves. It didn’t. She still had to warn Sawyer.

Unwilling to deliver the bad news to him via a recording, she hit the end button and glanced around the room. Still dressed in nothing but her underwear, she yanked the bright pink bikini Carly insisted was adventurous out of her carry-on bag, shed her bra and panties and slipped into the suit. She threw on a short, lacy beach wrap and grabbed her room key.

She’d considered texting Carly about what was in the case but was afraid Carly wouldn’t believe her. Or worse, the text message would be intercepted. Nobody could know she had the case. Not until she figured out what to do with it.

First she had to find Sawyer and warn him about the note’s contents.

Riding the elevator from the bridal suite to the ground floor was a study in patience. The car stopped several times on the way down to fill with people wearing dinner clothes or beach apparel, depending on where they were headed. They laughed and joked with each other while Jenna bit down on her lip and counted the seconds until they reached the bottom. She wanted to shout and rail at the people slowing her down. Didn’t they realize a man’s life could be hanging in the balance?

Somewhere in Cancún, possibly on the beach, an assassin could be following Sawyer or aiming at him through a scope similar to the one in the case. One pull of the trigger and Sawyer would be delivered dead.

The elevator hit the ground level and the doors opened, disgorging the numerous passengers.

Dancing in the rear, Jenna tried to get around some of them but was cut off every time. When she found a clear path, she darted through the lobby, making a beeline for the concierge, where she cut in front of an elderly couple and asked where she could find the hotel Carly had given in her text message.

The concierge pointed and told her it was two hotels south along the beach.

Jenna didn’t wait for clearer directions but ran out the back door of the hotel, past the pool and the myriad lounge chairs flanking it and out onto the sand. She didn’t slow as she raced past the umbrellas and people stretched out, capturing the afternoon sunshine. Eventually she ran along the water’s edge, finding better purchase in the wet hard-packed sand. Passing the first resort hotel, she kept her gaze forward, searching the beach in front of her and the water to her left.

God, she hoped he was close to the water, where she could find him easily. If she had to look at each patron on the beach, it could take too much precious time.

As she neared the second resort hotel with its rainbow-colored beach umbrellas, Jenna saw a small tent set up close to the water with a number of WaveRunners parked in the sand.

Barely able to breathe by then, she staggered to a stop in front of the startled attendant.

“Have you—” Jenna wheezed as she leaned against the tent pole and dragged in a deep breath “—rented a WaveRunner—” she breathed again and finished in a rush “—to a tall, dark-haired man with tattoos on his arms?”

The attendant’s brows pulled together. “Sí.”

“Where is he now?”

The man pointed to the water’s edge a hundred yards farther along the beach.

Jenna glanced past the teenagers throwing a Frisbee, the father tossing his child in the air and the girls playing in the surf to a man standing near a WaveRunner and another slinging his leg over the seat.

“Wait!” Jenna cried and took off, running as fast as her legs and lungs could carry her.

Neither man turned at her shout the first time.

“Wait!” she cried as she got closer. This time the man standing beside the WaveRunner looked up. The one on the vehicle revved the engine and started sliding toward the water.

Giving it her all, Jenna lifted her knees and elbows, running faster than she ever had in the fifty-yard dash in high school and pounded across the wet sand, out into the surf. She flung herself onto the back of the watercraft, wrapping her arms around the man with the tattooed arms.

“What the hell?” Sawyer twisted in his seat to stare at his passenger. “Jenna?”

“Go!” she cried. “Go fast! Get as far out as you can.”

His gaze sharpened on her face, but he revved the engine. “What’s wrong?”

“Just do it. I’ll explain when you get away from the shore.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she said, holding on tightly as they sped away from the beach and hit a wave full-on. Water splashed up in her face before she could close her mouth. She swallowed some and choked, spitting salt water.

He slowed. “Are you okay?”

“Please, just go out to sea.” She clung to his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “Your life depends on it.”

“Okay.” He shook his head but twisted his hand on the throttle, heading out to sea, taking them farther and farther from the beach.

When they were a good quarter of a mile out, he slowed the vehicle to a stop and half turned to face her. “Now, do you mind telling me what the hell just happened?”

Jenna glanced back at the shore. “How far can a bullet travel?”

“What?” Sawyer stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Not that I’m not flattered, but what does that have to do with hijacking me and my WaveRunner?”

She wiped the salty water from her face and bit her lip. “You’re not going to believe this.” Shaking her head, she tried to pull the words together in her mind before blurting them out.

“Believe what?” His scowl deepened. “Woman, you aren’t making sense. And if you don’t start talking, I’m heading back to shore before we run out of gas or the engine decides to quit. I’m pretty sure we’re farther out than the attendant recommended.”

Jenna’s heart thumped against her chest and her fingers dug into his waist. “Someone is going to try to kill you.”

For a long moment he stared down at her. “Is that your prediction? Are you a psychic or something?” His lips curled in a derisive smile. “Lady, I’m a SEAL. I get shot at on every mission.”

Jenna shook her head. “How can you believe me when I barely believe what I saw?” She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, grasping for the words. Then she straightened, firming her jaw. “I picked up the wrong suitcase in the lobby of my hotel. When I opened it, I found what I assume were the parts to assemble a sniper’s rifle, complete with a scope.”

Sawyer snorted. “How do you know what a sniper’s rifle looks like? Do you even own a gun?”

Her cheeks heated, and anger spiked inside her. “So, I don’t own a gun, and I don’t know exactly what a sniper’s rifle looks like. But it’s what was with the rifle that made me assume the owner was a sniper, hit man or assassin.”

With a chuckle, Sawyer ran a hand through his dark, wet hair, standing it on end. “Could it be you’ve been watching or reading too many thrillers lately?”

She smacked her palm against his arm. “Damn it, I’m trying to tell you that I found photographs and a note with the weapon. Your photographs. Pictures of you and a note telling the gun owner to bring you to wherever they were going to meet by nine o’clock tonight. Dead or alive.”

This time Sawyer sat still, his gaze pinning hers.

Jenna held steady, lifting her chin.

“How do I know you’re not some nutcase desperate for male companionship and will come up with any cockamamie story to get one alone?”

Jenna let go of his waist and scooted back on the seat of the WaveRunner. “Is that what you think?” She slipped even farther back until she teetered on the edge, refusing to touch even one inch of the man’s body. “Do you think I’m so desperate I’d chase a man out into the middle of the ocean just to get him alone?” She shook her head. “You know, I could have taken that case to hotel security and let them handle it.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s your life on the line. Not mine. If you want to ignore the warning I’ve given you out of the sincerest desire to save your sorry carcass, you do that. I’ll just get myself back to shore, because I’d rather swim a mile in shark-infested waters than ride back on a WaveRunner operated by a man with an ego the size of a whale.” She dived into the water before he could say anything or reach out and grab her.

Jenna struck out, headed for shore, weighed down by her beach wrap. She hadn’t done much swimming since she’d been on the high school swim team, and she realized almost immediately that she didn’t have the strength she once had. But sheer anger should fuel her long enough to make it back to shore.

She sure as hell wasn’t going to ride with an arrogant, self-centered, stupid man who could be dead by morning because he thought she was a desperate crackpot.

The WaveRunner engine fired up behind her.

Jenna continued to swim freestyle, trying to remember how to time her breathing and making smooth, steady strokes, pacing herself so that she wouldn’t get too tired too quickly.

Sawyer pulled up beside her. “Get on.”

She ignored him, choosing to breathe rather than waste her strength arguing.

Damn the man, but he kept pace with her, bobbing beside her on the water craft.

“I’m sorry,” Sawyer said. “I shouldn’t have called you a desperate nutcase.”

It was a start, but he had a long way to go before she forgave him for saying all those nasty things to her. Jenna plowed through the buoyant salt water, one stroke at a time, refusing to acknowledge the man.

He sped up, pulling ahead of her.

Fine. Go back to shore.

Jenna would make it on her own. She didn’t need a man to rescue her. The men in her life hadn’t proven to be very reliable. Or at least her ex-fiancé hadn’t. Sawyer, though not really a part of her life, wasn’t much better. She’d done him a favor. Tried to save his sorry life. And what did she get in return? Grief. To hell with him. He could be shot for all she cared.

A splash ahead made her stop and tread water.

The WaveRunner seat was empty, and Sawyer was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Three

Jenna’s pulse jumped and she spun in a circle, searching for him.

Had the assassin gunned him down?

She looked for the telltale sign of blood mixing with the ocean water but couldn’t see any. Dragging in a deep breath, she dived beneath the surface in search of Sawyer’s body.

Salt water stung her eyes before she’d swum four feet toward the WaveRunner. Jenna surfaced, blinking.

The water erupted, and Sawyer’s face appeared in front of her.

Jenna started to scream, inhaled a gulp of ocean and coughed until tears streamed from her eyes and she sank below the water.

A strong arm wrapped around her middle and dragged her to the surface. “Are you all right?” Sawyer spun her to face him and pushed the sodden hanks of hair from her face.

“I thought you were dead,” she said, her voice hoarse from coughing.

He shook his head. “I’m okay. It’s you I was worried about. It’s too far for you to swim back, and there might be a riptide. I couldn’t let you do it.”

She drew in a steadying breath and glared at him. “You could have been shot.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.”

“But you could have been.” She wiped tears from her eyes, pushed at his chest and swam away from him, using a breaststroke.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t take you seriously,” Sawyer said, easily keeping pace.

Jenna nodded toward the watercraft, drifting farther and farther away from them. “You better go catch your ride before you lose it, too.”

“I’m not going to leave you out here. If I have to let the WaveRunner go, I will.” He stuck with her.

Jenna’s conscience couldn’t let him sacrifice an expensive machine for her. Besides, she was wasting time. The expense was the least of his worries. She stopped swimming and trod water. “Okay. But we need to bring it in at a different location. If you know you have a sniper gunning for you, you can’t just present yourself as a target. I would have presumed they’d taught you that in SEAL training.”

Sawyer chuckled. “They did. I promise to bring it in to a different location.” He didn’t make a move. “Are you coming with me?”

She glanced at the shore, admitting to herself, even if not aloud, that it was farther than she really had the strength or stamina to achieve. “Yes.”

“Can you make it to the WaveRunner? Or do you want to wait here and let me come back and pick you up?”

“I can swim,” she said, refusing to show any weakness to this man.

“Okay, then.” He struck out.

Jenna followed, barely able to keep up with his stronger strokes. By the time she reached the WaveRunner, Sawyer had climbed aboard and revved the engine.

When he reached out a hand, she took it.

With very little effort, he pulled her out of the water, and she settled on the machine behind him. Her arms aching, she wrapped them around his waist and held on while he set the watercraft on a path toward the shore, but not toward the resort where he’d entered the water. He aimed toward her resort hotel.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea, either. Apparently the gunman is staying at this hotel.”

“Well, where would you have me stop?”

She sighed. “You might as well stop here. You need to see for yourself what I’m talking about. But you can’t stand still long. He could be targeting you as we speak.”

Sawyer pulled up on the sand and shut off the engine.

“We’d better get inside. It’s not safe to be out in the open.” Jenna glanced at the sun starting its descent toward the horizon. “There are only a few hours until nine o’clock. If the gunman wants to make his deadline, he’ll be coming after you.”

Jenna scanned the beach, searching beneath the umbrellas. Then she faced the multistoried hotels, looking for anyone positioned on a balcony, aiming a rifle at Sawyer.

“You’ll have to come to my hotel room. I can show you the case, the gun and the note. Hell, you can have them, for that matter. I don’t want the Mexican police to catch me in possession of a weapon.”

Sawyer frowned. “You say you mistook the case for yours. Where exactly is your case now?”

Jenna shook her head. “It was supposed to arrive by the time I got back from zip-lining. That’s why I grabbed the one I found.”

“If you mistook the case with the gun for yours—” Sawyer’s jaw tightened “—is it possible the gunman took your case instead?”

Jenna nodded. “I suppose it’s possible.” She grabbed his arm and started toward the hotel. “The main thing right now is to get you out of rifle range.” She marched ahead, holding on to his arm until he brought her to an abrupt stop. Jenna faced him. “Do you have a death wish?”

Sawyer shook his head. “Sweetheart, you realize that if this man finds out he has the wrong case, he’ll come looking for the right one.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Did you leave any identification on or inside your case?”

“Of course. How else was the airline going to know who it belonged to?” Jenna bit her lip, dread filling her belly. She’d been so concerned about warning Sawyer, she hadn’t thought about herself.

Sawyer’s glance shot left, right and forward as if he now was searching for the gunman. “You could be in as much danger as I’m supposed to be, if that gunman finds out where you’re staying.”

“Then we’d better get back to my room before he finds his case.”

Sawyer shook his head. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, either. He could already be there.”

Jenna’s heart slipped to the pit of her belly. “We have to get there. Fast.”

“Why?”

“I have a roommate.”

“Isn’t she the one Quentin is with right now?”

“Yes. But I don’t know when she’ll be back.” Jenna walked with purpose toward the hotel, digging her bare feet into the sand. Should the gunman come looking for his case... Holy hell...

Sawyer kept pace.

Jenna shot a glance toward Sawyer. “Shouldn’t you be ducking your head or hiding your face?”

“I’ll grab a hat in the hotel’s gift shop on the way back to my hotel.” He held out his hand. “First let’s get that case. Give me your key. I’ll check your room.”

She dug the key out of her wrap pocket, amazed it hadn’t floated out when she’d gone swimming. Slapping it into his palm, she stepped into the elevator.

Sawyer entered behind her, his finger hovering over the keypad. “What floor?”

“The top,” she said and cringed. The last thing she wanted to tell Sawyer was that she was staying in the bridal suite. Hell, he’d find out soon enough.

As the elevator rose, Sawyer pulled a cell phone out of a waterproof bag.

“I doubt the police will be of much help,” Jenna commented.

“I’m not calling the police. I’m texting my friend I left back on the beach to let him know where I left the WaveRunner.” He finished his text and hit Send.

When the elevator stopped at the top floor, Sawyer held out a hand, stopping Jenna from exiting. “Wait until I clear the hallway.”

“My room’s at the end.” Jenna stood back, holding her finger on the door-open button while Sawyer disappeared down the corridor.

With her breath lodged in her throat, Jenna waited for Sawyer’s signal.

It wasn’t long before his voice echoed down the hallway. “What the hell?”

* * *

SAWYER HAD MADE a sweep of the hallway, checked the stairwell and tried the handles on the doors to the other penthouse suites. Each door had a fancy black placard with gold lettering naming the suite. When he’d come to the end of the corridor, he stopped and took a step backward.

“Seriously? You’re staying in the bridal suite?”

Jenna left the safety of the elevator and joined him in front of the door. “It’s a long story.”

“I’d love to hear it sometime.” He slid the key over the lock, and the light blinked green. “Soon.” Sawyer opened the door. “In the meantime, stay here.”

Again, he went ahead of her, stepping into the spacious living area with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. With the sun angling toward the horizon, the beach-goers had thinned, leaving a few couples walking hand in hand along the shoreline.

He didn’t spend much time checking out the scenery. He was more concerned about who else might be occupying the room. Still not convinced he or Jenna had anything to worry about, he made a thorough sweep of the living area, bedroom, closets and bathroom. “All clear,” he called out and turned to find Jenna standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “You were supposed to wait.”

“Sorry. I can be impatient. It’s one of my flaws. Along with being boring.” She left the doorway and crossed to the closet.

Sawyer followed. “I can see the impatience, but you don’t really believe you’re boring, do you?”

Jenna shrugged, her lips pressing into a thin line, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I don’t know what to think about myself. I suppose I am boring.”

Clenching his fists, Sawyer wished he could punch the person who’d fed Jenna that line of bull. “You’re repeating what your ex-fiancé said.”

“In so many words.” She slid the door back to reveal a gray hard-sided suitcase wedged onto the top shelf. Jenna pointed to it. “That’s it. Proof I’m not a desperate female after your gorgeous body to save me from dying alone.”

He touched her arm.

She flinched away.

He wished he could take back what he’d said to her. He didn’t need to add to her self-esteem issues. She had enough of those already. And as far as he could tell, she had no reason for them. With her long, dark ginger curls and bright green eyes, she was practically perfect, except for the frown denting her forehead. Sawyer wanted to brush his thumb across the lines. “I said I was sorry.” He gave her a crooked smile. “You don’t let things go, do you?”

“Add that to my list of faults.” She backed away and let Sawyer pull the case off the shelf.

He carried it across to the bed and set it down. “I’ll add that to your list of positive attributes. If this case holds what you say it does, I’m lucky that you don’t give up easily.” He flicked the catches, and the case remained locked.

Jenna handed him a metal file. “Use this.”

She was not only beautiful, and anything but boring, but also smart and resourceful. He jammed the file into the locks and flipped them open one at a time.

Inside were neatly folded shirts and trousers. As he peered closer, he noticed the inside of the case wasn’t as deep as the exterior indicated. He set the clothes to the side and looked again.

With a huff of impatience, Jenna reached around him and ran her finger along the inside. A partition popped up.

As he lifted the divider, his gut clenched. Just as Jenna had said, there were parts that would make a complete sniper’s rifle with a military-grade scope, giving the shooter the capability of firing at long distances.

“This is what made me find you.” Jenna lifted the envelope and turned it upside down, shaking the contents out onto the bed.

Photographs of Sawyer fanned out on the comforter. Pictures of him walking on the streets of New Orleans when he’d spent a weekend there with his teammates, shots of him outside his apartment near Stennis in Mississippi, and even more of him when he’d last visited his father in DC three months ago. Whoever had been following him had been doing so for some time.

“I don’t understand.” He shook his head. “Why me?”

“Darlin’, if you don’t know—” Jenna let out a short, hard laugh “—I can’t help you. Have you pissed off someone in your past? Someone who would want revenge?”

He thought back on the missions he’d been a part of. The most recent sanctioned mission had to do with a terrorist training camp in Honduras. Surely the terrorists involved hadn’t come all the way to Cancún and singled him out. Why not the rest of his team? He shuffled through the photographs.

Whoever the assassin was, Sawyer was his only target.

Sawyer drew in a deep breath and let it out, then glanced across at Jenna. “My father is a US senator. Not many people know, but this doesn’t make sense. The note doesn’t make sense.”

Jenna read it aloud. “‘Bring him to the agreed-upon location by 9:00 p.m. Dead or alive.’” She stared at the paper, her face pale, her eyes wide. “I don’t know. Why would someone kill you and then deliver you somewhere?”

“Unless they’re trying to make a statement.”

Her pretty brow furrowed. “What kind of statement?”

“Perhaps it’s a drug cartel or terrorist organization picking off SEALs to show they can.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Whoever it is hired an assassin. He might get paid more if he delivers me alive.”

“Or he might just decide to take a lesser payoff because he’s dealing with a highly trained SEAL. If he can pick you off at a distance, he has less of a chance of being taken down.”

Sawyer’s lips quirked. “You’re pretty smart.” He cupped her cheek and stared into her beautiful green eyes, wanting to do so much more. When he finally looked away, he dropped his hands to his sides. Settling the photos and note into the case, he closed it and let the locks click into place. Then he stared around the room as if for the first time. “Why the bridal suite?”

She turned and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. “It’s a dumb story.”

“I still want to hear it.” He followed and stood behind her, watching her instead of the view. He liked what he saw: petite, yet strong; slim, yet curvy; smart and a bit sassy.

“I was engaged to a man who found my maid of honor more interesting than me.” She shrugged. “He texted me on our wedding day that he couldn’t go through with the marriage.” She turned and waved her hand at the room. “The hotel was nonrefundable, so I came with a friend.” She lifted her chin and faced him, her eyes slightly narrowed as if daring him to laugh.

Again, he cupped her face. “His loss, my gain. If you’d come with him, you might not have found the case and come to warn me.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the backs of her knuckles. “Thank you. And for the record, your fiancé was a fool.”

“Ex-fiancé,” she amended, staring at the hand he kissed. “And I agree. I’m better off without him.” She stood as if frozen to the spot, her eyes widening as her tongue swept across pale pink lips.

Sawyer couldn’t resist. He bent to brush his mouth across hers in what he’d intended as a brief sweep. But as soon as his lips connected with hers, he couldn’t back away. He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close, deepening the kiss.

She rested her palms on his chest. Instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled into him, her nails scraping against his skin.

He skimmed the seam of her lips, and she opened to him.

He caressed her tongue with his, fire burning through his veins, searing a path south to his groin.

Jenna’s hands slid up his chest and linked behind his neck, pulling him closer.

The sound of a metal lock clicking brought Sawyer out of the trance Jenna’s mouth had him in, and he lifted his head.

“Oh.” The woman who’d been with Jenna at the zip line stopped in the middle of the doorway, her eyes rounding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She pointed to the closet and hurried across the room. “I’ll just be a minute,” she said, tiptoeing into the room, grimacing. “Don’t mind me. Go back to what you were doing.” She grabbed a dress and raced into the bathroom, calling out over her shoulder, “I didn’t see anything. Continue kissing.”

Jenna stepped away from Sawyer, her cheeks bright red, her eyes averted. She pressed a hand to her lips and stared out the window.

When the bathroom door opened again, her friend smiled. “Don’t wait up for me. I might not be back. I’m taking my toothbrush just in case.” She rushed to the door, yanked it open and turned with a full grin on her face. “And for the record, Tyler didn’t deserve you. And you deserve to have fun. You go, girl!” She pumped her fist and let the door close automatically behind her.

“Don’t mind Carly. She has no filter.” Jenna chuckled softly. “She’d tell you that herself.”

“I get that.”

“Should we catch her before she gets on the elevator and warn her about the hit man?” Jenna started for the door.

“No. Text her and tell her you’d like to have the room to yourself. That should keep her from coming back to a potentially dangerous situation.”

Jenna texted the message.

Carly texted back with a smiley face.

God, she probably thought Sawyer was staying the night. Jenna’s cheeks heated and she couldn’t face the man. Instead, she walked back toward the gunman’s bag. “What do I do with the case? Should I take it back to the lobby and leave it for its owner?”

“No use making it easy for him to kill me. If he wants me badly enough, he’ll have to find another weapon to do the job.”

Jenna shivered. “I’d just as soon he didn’t do the job at all.”

“You and me both.”

“In the meantime, what do I do with it?” Jenna waved at the case.

“I’ll take it. I know someone who might help.” He lifted the suitcase off the bed and headed for the door.

Jenna jumped in front of him. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”

“Back to my room.”

“If he knows you’re in Cancún, the assassin will know which room you’re in.” She touched his arm. “You can’t go back there.”

“What do you suggest?”

She glanced around the bridal suite. “I figure if he hasn’t already come after me for the case, chances are he doesn’t know I have it.”

“Then this will have to stay here for now.” Sawyer hefted the gun case onto the shelf in the closet and straightened, facing Jenna. “We need to find your case before he does.”

“Right.” Jenna nodded. “I guess you can stay here until I get back. I hope my case has been delivered from the airport by now.”

“Uh-uh.” Sawyer shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

Her brows pulled together. “But he’ll recognize you as soon as you set foot into the lobby—if he didn’t see you coming in the first time.”

“Not if I wear a hat and sunglasses.” He glanced around the room. “I don’t suppose you have a T-shirt that will fit me and a baseball cap or sunglasses.” He stared down at his naked chest. “I seem to have come ill-prepared for undercover ops. If not, I’ll pick up something in the gift shop.”

Jenna’s gaze zeroed in on his chest, and as they had so often in the past few minutes, her cheeks flamed. “I might have something,” she said and hurried toward the dresser. After riffling through her clothes for a few seconds, she surfaced with an oversize black, white and gold New Orleans Saints football jersey.

Sawyer held it up. “Are you a fan?”

“I am.” She lifted her chin. “And damn proud of it. So don’t talk bad about my Saints.”

He winked and dragged the jersey over his head and shoulders. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But isn’t the shirt a little big for you?”

“It’s perfect to sleep in,” she said, her cheeks reddening again. She handed him a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a Saints ball cap. “Ready?”

He slipped the glasses onto his face and the cap on his head and nodded. “Let’s go. But me first.”

Jenna frowned. “Do you think he might be on the other side of the door?” She stepped in front of him. “Maybe I should go first.”

“Lady, you’re killing my ego.” He smoothed his hand behind her head, grabbed those lush red curls and tugged, tilting her head back. “But you’re beautiful when you do it.” Sawyer kissed her hard on the lips, set her away from the door and reached for the handle.

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