Page 39 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

Morganna sat down on the couch, breathing out wearily as she unzipped the high boots and dragged them off her feet. Pleasure eased through her as cool air enveloped her tired feet, the cramped muscles relaxing as she pressed the pads of her feet into the floor.

"That sounds good." She set the boots to the side as she fought to ignore the fact that he was shirtless. That all that bare, powerful muscle was on display and nearly impossible not to look at.

Besides, she wasn't here to have sex, she reminded herself; she was here because someone had decided they wanted her dead.

"I guess tonight clears up whether or not the drive-by shooting the other night was aimed at me." She kept her gaze on the floor, determined not to stare up at him. Not to eat him with her gaze.

"Someone knows what you're doing." He paced across her field of vision, long legs encased in snug leather. "But that's not enough to put out a hit against you. Craig maybe. Joe definitely. But not you. You're just a watcher, and easy enough to avoid if they know who you are."

That was what she thought.

"Then what's going on?" She lifted her eyes wearily, feeling the effects of the late nights, the excitement, the raging emotions she had dealt with over the past two days, catching up with her. "Why risk getting caught? If they know of me, then they know of the team. Why not just move to another club?"

"Arrogance." He shrugged as he leaned against the frame of the entryway across from her. "To make an example of you. There could be several reasons and all could apply. Or none of them." His expression was thoughtful, somber. 'They tried to take another girl tonight. One of Drage's men caught up with them before they managed to maneuver her through the back entrance. She was drugged, heavily."

Morganna's eyes widened at the information as she stared back at him in shock. "They moved fast. We just arrested the three suspects attempting to drug that girl last week."

"They have a schedule then," he mused. "The hit bothers me more, and the fact that they waited until you left to drug the girl."

"We move between several clubs in one night, and Joe's team isn't the only one working this. We have three teams on the task force here in Atlanta. The DEA is determined to shut this down now, before the drug goes further. We suspect the sale of the videos is being used to fund terrorist activities, tat there's no confirmation on that."

"How many agents?"

She stared back at him with dismay. "There are fifteen agents total working this. But only the individual teams and the commander know the 'watchers' such as myself."

"Watcher, my ass. You're bait. But that doesn't explain why you were targeted with a knife instead of the drug."

"Divine retribution," she muttered, staring back at him. "That's what he said just before you came into the house. Divine retribution."

"Nothing else?" Cold purpose glittered in Clint's eyes.

Morganna shook her head as she moved to her feet, unable to sit still. Rubbing her fingers over her brow, she paced to the small office desk on the other side of the room before stopping and tapping her fingers against the desk softly.

"It was personal," she finally said. "You could hear it in his voice. There was an accent...." She frowned, trying to remember the sound of her attacker's voice. "I can't place it."

God, she wanted to curl into Clint's arms. His broad chest looked wide enough to shelter her, his arms strong enough to hold her. And she needed him to hold her. She had needed it for so long, though, that she wondered if she wasn't more used to the hunger than she would be to easing it.

"We'll rest this weekend." He straightened from the door frame, his arms dropping to the pockets of his pants as he stared back at her. "You'll have to call in to the office you're working at, take next week off while we work on this. Joe had a good idea, setting up in the clubs like that. But the community he's dealing with is far more extensive than he could imagine unless he was part of it. Monday, we'll start making some calls."

"Then you were serious about working together on this?" His lips quirked. "As much as I needed to keep you out of this for my own peace of mind, whoever's behind it seems more intent on dragging you into it. The only way to keep you safe is to neutralize the threat. And I called Drage while you were in the bathroom and had him rescind the request that you be banned from the clubs. You're now under sponsorship. We know they're after you; we just have to use that to trap the suppliers." It was more than obvious he wasn't pleased with the situation.

"Will you or Craig be set up to buy?" "Me." His voice was a hard rumble. "You'll not be playing a role. You'll be yourself. By now, everyone will have figured out I'm so damned hot for you that I can't breathe for the hard-on killing me." And he didn't seem pleased by that. "I don't want you to play the submissive. Fight me as you would any other time."

A knock at the door had him whirling away from her as he pulled the .45 from the small of his back and moved in complete silence to the door of the suite.

"Room service," a cheerful voice announced. Bedroom. Clint turned and mouthed the word at her as he neared the door.

Morgan

na grabbed her boots and moved hurriedly across the room and ducked into the bedroom, careful to hide along the side of the room. Clint had been adamant that no one, including hotel staff, know that she was in the room with him. "Good evening, Mr. Sizemore." The waiter's voice moved into the sitting room. "I have your dinner, sir."

The sound of footsteps, then a heavy tray being placed on the wide coffee table in the other room could be heard. "Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?" "That will be all." Clint's voice was clipped, businesslike. "Thank you for being so quick."

"Yes, sir!" The waiter's exclamation had her rolling her eyes. Must have been a helluva tip. "You need anything, sir, you just call right down. We'll take care of you."

"Will do," Clint responded as the steps moved back to the door of the suite.

Seconds later the sound of the door closing and the bolt lock had Morganna moving quickly from the bedroom. The smell of food had her stomach growling. She was starved and she knew for a fact he had ordered enough to feed an army.

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