Strong Silent SEAL (SEALs of Coronado Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Paige Tyler
thousand thoughts raced through her head. Could she trust him? Could he really help her? She couldn’t imagine how he could, but she needed help from someone, and her instincts told her Dunn was that person.
Reaching down, she lifted the hem of her tank top, exposing her stomach and the wire taped there.
Logan leaned in close, followed the wire around to the little square thing taped to her lower back, and nodded. Sitting back, he typed something else into his phone, then held it up so she could see.
Do you have a cellphone?
Chapter Two
L OGAN HAD ONLY gone into work beaucoup early on his day off because he had to finish up some paperwork from the mission in Syria. Next, his plan had been to veg out in front of the TV watching cheesy sci-fi movies and eating junk food for two whole days. But then a beautiful woman had stepped up behind him as he came out of the grocery store and shoved a gun in his back, and his weekend plans had changed.
He could tell right from the get-go she didn’t have a clue how to handle a gun. Not only was the safety on her Sig Sauer 9mm on, but she shook like a leaf the whole time she had it pointed at him. That alone told him neither he nor anyone else was in immediate danger. Why did she want to get on base so badly? From the way she’d looked at the clock every other minute, she had some kind of timetable.
When she pointed at the spot on the map, Logan realized the seriousness of the situation. She wanted to go to the headquarters building of the Navy Special Warfare Command from which the Navy ran its special operation missions—and where his bosses from SEAL Team 5 worked. If she wanted to go there, it was because there was something big happening.
If she hadn’t been wearing a snug-fitting tank top and yoga pants with those wide-leg bottoms, he would have thought her a suicide bomber. Hell, with her long, dark hair up in a ponytail and a hint of makeup, she looked like the girl next door. But while she had plenty of curves under her outfit, none of them were explosive—at least not in the literal sense. And he was pretty sure the black box wasn’t a bomb either.
He could have disarmed her a dozen times over already, but instead he went with his gut and took her where she wanted to go. His instincts had gotten him out of one bad situation after another over the years, and right now, his gut told him she was in serious trouble.
He couldn’t help her if he didn’t know what the hell was going on though. Something about the way she refused to answer his questions made him think there she couldn’t talk. So he’d pulled out his cellphone. The relief on her face when she thought he truly might be able to help her made his heart squeeze. When she’d lifted the hem of her tank top and shown him the quality surveillance gear taped to her sexy belly, he knew his gut had been right. She was in trouble and she needed his help.
Hands shaking, she took her phone out of her purse and handed it to him. He took it and put his name and number in her contacts, then turned off the ringer and gave it back to her.
Setting his own phone to silence, he texted his first question. What’s your name?
She pushed up her sunglasses to see the screen better, then texted him back. Felicia.
Nice name. Okay, now for the serious question. Is someone close to you in danger?
She read the message on her phone then started typing furiously.
Five men with heavy accents grabbed my sister and me this morning. They gave me the box and told me to come to this building and turn it on then stay here for 30 minutes or they’d kill my sister.
Were they armed? he texted back.
She nodded and went back to typing. Damn, she had fast fingers.
Four of them carrying pistols. I assume the fifth one—their leader—has one, too, but I never saw it. They gave me the pistol in my purse in case things went wrong, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.
He smiled. He couldn’t imagine someone like Felicia ever
Reaching down, she lifted the hem of her tank top, exposing her stomach and the wire taped there.
Logan leaned in close, followed the wire around to the little square thing taped to her lower back, and nodded. Sitting back, he typed something else into his phone, then held it up so she could see.
Do you have a cellphone?
Chapter Two
L OGAN HAD ONLY gone into work beaucoup early on his day off because he had to finish up some paperwork from the mission in Syria. Next, his plan had been to veg out in front of the TV watching cheesy sci-fi movies and eating junk food for two whole days. But then a beautiful woman had stepped up behind him as he came out of the grocery store and shoved a gun in his back, and his weekend plans had changed.
He could tell right from the get-go she didn’t have a clue how to handle a gun. Not only was the safety on her Sig Sauer 9mm on, but she shook like a leaf the whole time she had it pointed at him. That alone told him neither he nor anyone else was in immediate danger. Why did she want to get on base so badly? From the way she’d looked at the clock every other minute, she had some kind of timetable.
When she pointed at the spot on the map, Logan realized the seriousness of the situation. She wanted to go to the headquarters building of the Navy Special Warfare Command from which the Navy ran its special operation missions—and where his bosses from SEAL Team 5 worked. If she wanted to go there, it was because there was something big happening.
If she hadn’t been wearing a snug-fitting tank top and yoga pants with those wide-leg bottoms, he would have thought her a suicide bomber. Hell, with her long, dark hair up in a ponytail and a hint of makeup, she looked like the girl next door. But while she had plenty of curves under her outfit, none of them were explosive—at least not in the literal sense. And he was pretty sure the black box wasn’t a bomb either.
He could have disarmed her a dozen times over already, but instead he went with his gut and took her where she wanted to go. His instincts had gotten him out of one bad situation after another over the years, and right now, his gut told him she was in serious trouble.
He couldn’t help her if he didn’t know what the hell was going on though. Something about the way she refused to answer his questions made him think there she couldn’t talk. So he’d pulled out his cellphone. The relief on her face when she thought he truly might be able to help her made his heart squeeze. When she’d lifted the hem of her tank top and shown him the quality surveillance gear taped to her sexy belly, he knew his gut had been right. She was in trouble and she needed his help.
Hands shaking, she took her phone out of her purse and handed it to him. He took it and put his name and number in her contacts, then turned off the ringer and gave it back to her.
Setting his own phone to silence, he texted his first question. What’s your name?
She pushed up her sunglasses to see the screen better, then texted him back. Felicia.
Nice name. Okay, now for the serious question. Is someone close to you in danger?
She read the message on her phone then started typing furiously.
Five men with heavy accents grabbed my sister and me this morning. They gave me the box and told me to come to this building and turn it on then stay here for 30 minutes or they’d kill my sister.
Were they armed? he texted back.
She nodded and went back to typing. Damn, she had fast fingers.
Four of them carrying pistols. I assume the fifth one—their leader—has one, too, but I never saw it. They gave me the pistol in my purse in case things went wrong, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.
He smiled. He couldn’t imagine someone like Felicia ever
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