Page 8 of Being Bold (Tactical Operations & Protection (TOP) Security #1)

Bo

The woman woke with a noisy gasp of breath, scaring the shit out of him. He’d been tucking the blanket tighter around her shoulders, but he jumped backward in reflex as she reared up into a sitting position.

“Ouch!” She clutched her head with a grimace and shut her eyes.

While his heart rate settled, he asked in as soft a voice as possible, “Do you want something for the pain?”

Her eyes popped open, and their color struck him, making his heart flip-flop. They were so pale a green as to be almost gray. Like fog rolling over an aquamarine sea. He’d never seen anything like them.

While he stared, she grabbed at his arm. “How long have I been here?”

Heat raced up his skin straight for his heart, and he blinked, too stunned to respond.

She glanced around as if the answer were in the air somewhere, before those soul-stealing, gray-green eyes landed on his.

Lost in her gaze, he couldn’t help but ask, “Where are you from?”

“SoCal.”

His brow knitted in confusion. That didn’t seem true. “Originally?”

“Oh. No, I was born in Crete.”

“I’ve never been there. What’s it like?”

“From what I remember, it’s beautiful. And warm .” The hint of a smile tipped her lips up. But there was a sigh behind it. Like she wished he’d skip the small talk. Then her eyes widened, urgency slipping into her melodic voice. “I need a phone.”

He cleared his throat and forced himself to focus on something other than her mesmerizing face, looking down at her grip on his arm when it tightened.

“May I use yours, please? My friend is in danger, and I have to warn her.” The agitation in her tone ratcheted up a notch as she begged, “Please, I need to warn Yumi.”

Bo nodded, ignoring the little voice that did a fist pump on learning Yumi was her friend and not a significant other. “Let me get it.”

“Thank you.”

Uncomfortable with her gratitude, he rose and walked to the kitchen to retrieve his phone from the counter.

He still didn’t know what happened to her, and instead of finding out, he’d asked her where she was from.

If this had been a TOP mission, he would’ve failed.

Where the hell was his head at? In his ass?

He had better get it out of there if he was going to be of any help to her.

After giving said ass a swift kick, he filled a glass with water, snagged some painkillers, and took everything back to the woman. Who he still didn’t know the name of. Another thing he should’ve asked immediately.

Such a fucking idiot, Bo.

She’d moved into a sitting position with her feet on the floor, her gaze taking in his home. As he approached, a shiver racked her frame.

“Here.” He set everything he carried on the coffee table and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. He rubbed them for warmth until she stiffened under his hold.

Realizing what he’d done, he dropped his hands and moved to the opposite end of the couch. Instead of acknowledging the overly intimate gesture, he swept a hand toward the table with a grunt. “There’s water and 500 milligrams of acetaminophen.”

Her quiet thank you had him squeezing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

Just fucking apologize. It couldn’t get any more awkward than he’d already made it.

“I’m sorr—” he said at the same time she started recording a voicemail.

“Yumi, it’s me—” she paused and glanced at him.

Bo said nothing else, but the cabin was suddenly too warm. His skin heated from the inside out.

She turned away and finished her message, “It’s Selene. Mr. Dao, he . . .” Her delicate throat bobbed on a swallow.

Selene.

Bo liked her name. It was exotic, just like her.

“You’re in danger. When you get this, call me back at this number. Please. And go somewhere safe.”

He wanted to put a hurt on Dao for the fear he heard in Selene’s voice. Bo blinked but couldn’t shake the feeling. It was irrational. He didn’t know this woman, yet he felt extremely protective of her.

Her sea-churned gaze met his. “She didn’t pick up.” Her hands fiddled nervously with the phone, clearly worried for her friend.

“Why don’t you text? In case she sees that first.”

“Good idea.”

He watched her fingers fly over the keyboard and wondered who Mr. Dao was.

Is he the guy who took a shot at her?

Bo’s nose flared, his jaw flexing. If Dao were the one who’d hurt her, he’d make damn sure he didn’t get another opportunity.

When she hit send, she met his gaze. She didn’t say anything, just studied him with those piercing eyes. As a SEAL, he’d been on his share of ships. The colors in her irises reminded him of waves crashing against the hull at dusk, the green blending with the gray.

Shifting in his seat, he cleared his throat. “I’m Everett. But you can call me Bo.”

She handed the phone back. “Thanks for your help, Bo.”

He set it on the coffee table. “We’ll leave it here in case your friend responds.”

She thanked him again, and the words started getting to him. He didn’t deserve her thanks. It made his skin burn like coming in contact with a hot brand.

Before he growled at her to stop, he got down to business. “Where did you come from?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea where we are, but I live in Big Sky.”

Big Sky was at least a half-hour drive from here. “Why were you in the woods wearing clothes better suited to an office?”

At the mention of her clothing, she glanced down at herself with a gasp before her gaze shot back to his. Outrage colored her voice as she demanded, “Where are my clothes?”

“The dryer.” He scrubbed at the side of his face and suppressed a groan as he explained, “You were borderline hypothermic when you got here. I had to put you in something warm and dry fast.”

“You, you . . .” she spluttered.

He rushed to add, “I acted purely for the purpose of saving your life,” before she did something he probably deserved, like slug him in the face.

She dropped her head in her hands, then winced when she tapped the bandage over her wound. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered.

“What did happen?” When she lifted her gaze, he added in what he hoped was a non-threatening tone, “I know that’s a bullet graze.” He tried to talk to people as little as possible, and his skills were rustier than a shipwreck.

Her eyes glazed over. “My boss tried to kill me.”

“Mr. Dao?”

She nodded in response.

“Why would he want to kill you?”

“I don’t know.” Anger tightened her features.

Bo grunted. There was something she wasn’t telling him. “That’s hard to believe.”

◆◆◆

Selene

Okay, sir.

Selene didn’t appreciate his insinuation. She stared the guy down while the petulant part of her wanted to cross her arms and turn away. But since she wasn’t wearing a bra, she didn’t need to draw any more attention there.

O-M-G!

Her stomach took off on a rollercoaster every time she thought about it. He’d undressed her. And not down to her bra and underwear.

Full. On. Naked.

She was mortified. Prior to this, she could count the number of men who’d seen her naked on one hand. Okay, three fingers, but relationships had never come easily for her. Somehow, the con list usually outweighed the pro list.

Now, this man she didn’t know had seen her in her birthday suit. Although out of everything that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours, that was hardly the worst of it.

She was lucky to be alive.

And if that wasn’t a sobering thought, she didn’t know what was.

But grateful or not, she could do without the bite in his tone. She wasn’t lying about knowing why Mr. Dao wanted her dead. It might have something to do with the technology she’d found, but she didn’t know that for sure. He’d conveniently not told her.

Besides, her head was debating whether it wanted to split in two, she was worried something bad had already happened to Yumi, and she’d barely been awake long enough to get her bearings.

Selene exhaled a frustrated breath and asked, “How long have I been here?” It looked dark outside, but she had no clue if it was the same night or a new one.

“Since last night. You slept most of today.” Bo glanced at the phone she hadn’t thought to check. “It’s seventeen forty-two, that’s—”

“Five forty-two.”

His eyes narrowed at her, almost like he was . . . suspicious? “You know military time?”

She couldn’t help the arch look as she told him, “It’s the ‘twenty-four-hour clock.’ More than just the military uses it.”

When his expression turned apologetic, she internally sighed, feeling bad for being bitchy when he’d helped her. Backpedaling, she explained, “My dad was in the Navy. He taught me.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Bo’s stern features as if they’d forgotten how to form that expression. It was so brief she nearly missed it.

Oh, wow.

When he smiled, Bo was rather attractive.

“I was Navy.”

His umber hair matched his eyes, except the closer she looked, she noticed gold striations running through the brown of his irises and streaks of red in the short strands atop his head.

His nose was strong and broad with a slight curve.

He’d likely broken it before. His mouth .

. . the rusty-colored beard accented the fullness of his lips.

Actually, really attractive.

Selene let her gaze travel from the rugged features of his face down the corded muscles of his neck, shoulders, and geez .

. . the henley he wore highlighted every contour.

And this man had a lot of them. She was used to seeing beefy gym rats in SoCal, but something told her Bo’s body hadn’t been hardened in a gym.

Wonder what he looks like without the clothes.

A smirk crossed her lips. It seemed only fair since he’d seen her without hers.

Before she could do something stupid like ask him to strip, her stomach growled loud enough to shake the cabin. Feeling heat fill her cheeks, she placed a hand over her middle and reverted to her default politeness. “Can I trouble you for something to eat?”