Page 15 of Stealthy Seduction (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #5)

S teele’s hand hit empty sheets before his eyes even opened.

The space beside him was cool, which meant Izzy had been gone for a while.

He rolled over, squinting against the morning light filtering through his bedroom windows, and tried to shake off the disorientation that came with waking up alone after the night they’d shared.

Christ, what a night.

The memory of her moving beneath him, the soft sounds she’d made against his throat, the way she’d looked at him afterwards—it all crashed over him with an intensity that made his chest tight.

He’d slept with plenty of women over the years, but none of them left him feeling like the world had shifted on its axis.

None of them had made him want to wake up and immediately start planning how to keep them in his bed.

Permanently.

He dragged a hand through his hair and forced himself upright. For a moment, he questioned if she had left the Blackout base. No, she’d risked everything to get here.

She’d probably gone to get coffee. Maybe she was in the kitchen with the other women. Izzy didn’t seem like a kiss-and-tell type of woman, but the idea of her laying claim to their previous night’s activities made him want to thump his chest and bellow in victory.

Quickly, he threw on a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. The base was quiet.

Too quiet.

Too tense. The kind of energy that preceded either very good news or very bad news—and in his experience, it was usually the latter.

He found the source of the tension in Con’s office.

Through the partially open door, he could see Izzy seated across from his CO, her posture straight and professional despite the early hour.

She’d dressed in some clothes one of the ladies must have loaned her—dark jeans and a sweater that made her look somehow more vulnerable than the polished journalist he’d first met.

But it was the phone in her hand that made his blood run cold.

“I understand your concerns, Rick, but I’m fine,” she was saying, her voice carrying that calm authority he recognized from her television work. “The story is solid. More solid than anything we’ve had in months.”

Rick. Her boss.

Con sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he monitored the call.

“What’s going on?” Steele demanded, stepping fully into the room.

Izzy whipped around, her gaze locking on him. “Rick, could I ask you to hold for a moment? Thank you.”

Con immediately leaned forward and hit a button on his desk console. Then looked up at Steele with the kind of measured expression that meant he was about to deliver news Steele wouldn’t like.

“Izzy needs to check in with her boss at the station. I told her it was happening here, in a controlled environment where we can monitor the conversation.”

Steele’s gaze shifted to Izzy, taking in the determined set of her jaw. He glanced down at her hand resting in her lap. Her thumb wasn’t tucked in. No nervous tell.

His gaze flashed back to hers. “Check in about what?”

Before Izzy could respond, Con cut in. “She’s going back to work.”

“Like hell,” he barked out.

“Hudson, this is important.” She tilted her jaw in a small show of defiance.

“It’s important to keep you alive. You came here to let us protect you.”

“I want to do my part. If I can draw out the people who shot Drysdale—”

The words hit Steele like a physical blow. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Hudson—” Izzy started.

“You’re using her as bait.” He turned his attention to Con with the kind of flat stare that made his enemies reconsider their life choices. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? You want to dangle her out there and see who comes hunting.”

Who, being Cipher. Which Izzy didn’t know.

Con’s expression didn’t change. “It’s a calculated risk—”

“Calculated?” Steele’s voice rose despite his efforts to keep it level. “Her contact was killed right in front of her . What part of that says ‘safe operation’ to you?”

“Which is why she’ll have full tactical support.” Con returned his flat stare. “She’ll have audio surveillance, tracking devices and backup. She won’t be alone.”

“She won’t be alone because she won’t be doing this at all.”

The words came out with more authority than Steele had intended, and he caught the flash of something—surprise? anger?—that crossed Izzy’s face. He didn’t even dare look at his commanding officer after challenging his order for the second time.

Izzy scooted to the edge of her chair. “I’m a grown woman perfectly capable of making my own decisions about my career and my safety.”

“Your safety is what I’m talking about—”

“Enough.” The command in Con’s voice cut through the mounting tension. “Steele, if you can’t handle this professionally, then step outside while we finish the call.”

The dismissal stung, but Steele recognized the ultimatum for what it was. He could either be part of the solution or get kicked out of the room while they made decisions without him.

Wordlessly, he dropped to a seat and braced himself for what else was coming that he wouldn’t like.

After Con gave Izzy a nod to go on, she resumed the call with her producer.

It was over within minutes, and he was right—he didn’t like it.

Steele’s lips firmed along with the rest of his muscles. “He just gave you an assignment to attend a protest.”

She nodded.

“A protest seems like the worst possible place for Izzy.” He was watching Con’s face and already guessed that his CO was behind the suggestion.

Izzy was quiet, composed. Thumb tucked.

But as soon as she lifted her stare to Steele’s, he saw the undercurrent in the depths of her eyes. She knew the danger.

He had to tread carefully or he’d be sidelined like last time.

“Requesting permission to act as Izzy’s PPO.” No one could be a better personal protection officer. “Whatever surveillance setup you’re running, I’m part of it.”

Con studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Done. But you follow orders without question, and you keep your personal feelings out of tactical decisions.”

“Copy that.”

Izzy looked between the two men, something unreadable flickering in her amber eyes. After a long minute, she pushed to her feet with fluid grace. “I need to shower and change. If I’m going to get this story, I should probably look the part.”

She headed for the door but paused to glance back at Steele once before she disappeared from view.

Steele waited a full minute to ensure she was out of earshot before meeting Con’s assessing stare.

His CO got straight to the point. “What’s your endgame here, Steele?”

The question was too casual not to carry any weight.

“Keep Izzy safe.”

“And after that?”

The words stuck in his throat for a moment, the honest answer feeling too big, too dangerous to voice. But Con’s stare was relentless, and Steele found himself speaking before he could think better of it.

“I guess it’s Izzy.”

“You guess?” Con’s eyebrows rose. “If you’re going to blow everything up on this team, you can’t do it for an ‘I guess.’”

He didn’t guess. He knew. The force of his emotions was a hot blast through his system.

Con leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve seen good operatives fall apart because they couldn’t compartmentalize. The risk is too great when you have someone you care about in the line of fire.”

“I can handle it.”

“Can you? Because from where I’m sitting, you look like a man who’s about two seconds away from going rogue to protect a woman.”

The assessment was brutal in its accuracy.

Steele had always been the easygoing one on the team—steady, reliable, the guy who could be counted on to keep his cool when everything went to shit.

But sitting here now, knowing Izzy was about to walk back into Cipher’s crosshairs, he felt anything but steady.

She’d gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had, reached places in him he’d thought were permanently sealed off after he signed his Blackout papers. And the idea of losing her—watching her get hurt because he’d failed to protect her—made something violent and frantic claw at his chest.

“Never thought it was for me,” he admitted quietly. “Love, relationships, all that. Figured it was for other people, people who had safer jobs and more predictable lives. But her…” He shook his head. “She’s different.”

“Different how?”

“She makes me want things I never thought I’d want. Makes me think about a future that doesn’t involve jumping out of planes and getting shot at for a living.” He met Con’s eyes. “There is no ‘I guess.’ I’m sure .”

“Sure enough to risk everything? We can’t afford to lose another man on Charlie team. Denver’s replacement is in the works, but we’re still a man down.”

He gave his CO a brisk nod. “Sure enough to do whatever it takes to keep her alive.”

Con nodded slowly, but his expression remained troubled. “All right. But if you lose your objectivity—if you put the mission or the team at risk because you can’t think past your feelings for her, I’ll pull you from the op. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

Steele was almost to the door when he heard Dante’s voice in the hallway, low and concerned.

“—questioning whether this is a good idea,” Dante was saying to someone. “Steele’s normally got nerves of steel, but now? He’s like TNT waiting for a spark.”

“I know,” Mason replied from outside the door.

“Can we trust him?”

Steele paused, waiting for his teammate’s response.

“Do you want him here losing his shit while we try to run a complex operation?”

“Fair point.” Dante’s tone was thoughtful. “I always knew he needed to meet someone who could shake him up. I just hope none of us end up as collateral damage when it happens.”

“What do you mean?” Mason pitched his voice lower, but there was nothing wrong with Steele’s hearing. Each word echoed inside him.

Dante went on, “We’ve always liked that he’s predictable. We need him to be the steady one, the guy who doesn’t let emotions cloud his judgment. If he’s compromised…”

“Then we adapt,” Mason said firmly. “Same as we always do.”