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Her Mission With A Seal
Cindy Dees
Their mission: deliver a ruthless spy to justice.But can they outlast a storm as dangerous as their target?Tracking an elusive Russian operative, CIA agent Nissa Beck has no choice but to ask for help as a hurricane descends on New Orleans. She turns to alpha navy SEAL Cole Perriman. Used to conquering impossible odds, now he must protect beautiful Nissa. But as unstoppable storms and passions rage, there’s more at stake for them than survival.
Their mission: deliver a ruthless spy to justice
But can they outlast a storm as dangerous as their target?
Tracking an elusive Russian operative, CIA agent Nissa Beck has no choice but to ask for help as a hurricane descends on New Orleans. She turns to alpha navy SEAL Cole Perriman. Used to conquering impossible odds, now he must protect beautiful Nissa. But as unstoppable storms and passions rage, there’s more at stake for them than survival.
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author CINDY DEES is the author of more than fifty novels. She draws upon her experience as a US Air Force pilot to write romantic suspense. She’s a two-time winner of the prestigious RITA® Award for romance fiction, a two-time winner of the RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award for Romantic Suspense and an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Best Author Award nominee. She loves to hear from readers at www.cindydees.com (http://www.cindydees.com).
Her Mission with a SEAL
Cindy Dees
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07862-7
HER MISSION WITH A SEAL
© 2018 Cynthia Dees
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“Grab the ladder!” someone shouted faintly.
Nissa grabbed it with both hands and wrapped her legs around the rope, hanging on with superhuman strength she didn’t know she possessed. God bless adrenaline.
A big green shape came up the ladder. It didn’t stop at her feet, though. It moved up behind her until the SEAL’s head was at her waist.
“Keep going!” Cole shouted.
Not. A. Chance.
No way was she letting go of the rope to keep climbing.
He climbed until his head was level with hers, his body spooning hers, his longer arms grasping the rope ladder around her slender frame. Warmth from his body penetrated the back of her wet suit as he plastered his entire body against hers.
“One foot. Just put your right foot up one rung for me,” he shouted into her ear as another huge gust of wind buffeted them. “It’ll be calmer on the deck of the ship.” His breath was warm against her exposed cheek. He felt alive. Vital. Real in the midst of this unreal nightmare.
* * *
Code: Warrior SEALs: Meet these fierce warriors who take on the most dangerous secret missions around the world!
* * *
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Dear Reader (#ud86239f5-24dc-5f1e-bd60-7c365878d708),
I’m super excited to finally give you Commander Cole “Frosty” Perriman’s story! You’ve waited through a bunch of books for him to get his very own happily-ever-after, and you’ve totally earned this one.
Nissa Beck is a CIA psychological operations officer, and the only woman I can imagine giving Cole a run for his money. But can she break through his icy reserve to find the passion lurking beneath? I don’t envy her the task...
And may I take this moment to apologize for the opening scene? It positively gave me the shivers to write. You might want to get a few bland crackers and nibble on them as you start this book. I recommend a hot beverage of your choice, too. And maybe a cozy chair next to a warm fire. Oh, and a blanket. There. Now we’re all ready to settle in and enjoy the wild ride as Cole and Nissa chase down one of the most dangerous men in the world and dare to love each other.
Happy reading!
Cindy
Contents
Cover (#u668f4863-a6a6-5690-8050-f2519df12a69)
Back Cover Text (#u31ea9f99-0b5c-59d4-8924-e289a6f5c2a2)
Author Bio (#ua2ffa77a-5816-5764-8bdd-0c4c765de77a)
Title Page (#u654ed41c-6688-56f5-97a9-9fa86bfc7ae2)
Copyright (#uf065946f-4ff8-5738-9a45-397cff3d22fe)
Introduction (#uc8167f67-f4aa-5a19-9c11-7d0d9b6b6000)
Dear Reader (#udb6a63ee-b679-5f72-bce1-20b8eb6dd0bf)
Chapter 1 (#uc29ae9f1-d859-5348-91b8-bd528282d28a)
Chapter 2 (#u5c258a7f-4c4d-5ee6-a616-f1cb306ec093)
Chapter 3 (#uac43980a-02b2-5911-914f-bcfcd2ee2da1)
Chapter 4 (#u78e4bfaa-1b5e-507e-b9d2-b51582c177e4)
Chapter 5 (#ua28ba685-049e-547c-8bd3-63b58198e9c2)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ud86239f5-24dc-5f1e-bd60-7c365878d708)
Nissa Beck had done some crazy things in her life, but sailing into the teeth of a rapidly intensifying hurricane in a tiny dinghy—in the dark—with a trio of Navy SEALs was right up there on the stupid scale. They’d actually strapped her into the boat so she wouldn’t get tossed out as their craft went nearly vertical climbing the wave faces towering overhead and then plunged nearly vertically down the waves crashing into black troughs of icy seawater.
Throat-paralyzing terror was the only reason she hadn’t screamed herself hoarse already. The horror of being out here at the mercy of the wildly tossing ocean was indescribable. As was the sheer size of the waves. They were small mountains. Literally. Except for the ones that periodically collapsed on top of them, burying them in frigid seawater for endless seconds until they popped back up to the surface and could breathe again. In short, it was a living nightmare.
She’d swallowed more seawater than she could fathom and thrown most of it back up along with the last meal she’d consumed three hours ago. A lifetime away in a safe place. On land. Not in the path of Hurricane Jessamine.
But her target had fled the United States and was out here somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico making his getaway on a container ship call the Anna Belle. The ship wasn’t one of the super giants, just a relatively small cargo ship. The manifest said she sailed with a crew of twenty, was loaded with wheat below decks and carried 120 containers stacked above decks.
What the manifest didn’t say was that she also carried a passenger. A man named Markus Petrov. One of the most elusive spies ever to operate on American soil. A colleague of Nissa’s, an American spy named Max Kuznetsov whose mother had been killed by Petrov, had spent nearly a decade tracking the guy and had spent most of the past three years undercover in Petrov’s criminal organization learning his true identity.
It was a brilliant setup, actually. Petrov ran a Russian crime gang and used its proceeds to finance his extracurricular espionage activities. In the meantime, he hid behind the Russian mafia, who fiercely protected his identity.
Max and a team of Navy SEALs had destroyed most of Petrov’s criminal organization last week in a spectacular shoot-out deep in the bayous of south Louisiana. But Petrov had disappeared.
Unfortunately, Max also needed to go to ground, along with his fiancée, a psychic who had helped him identify Markus Petrov at long last. Until Petrov was apprehended, the two of them were in extreme danger and had been whisked into federal protective custody. This left no subject matter experts on Petrov except Nissa to help with the manhunt.
She’d been tracking Max’s progress in the Petrov case for years and was the CIA’s second most knowledgeable analyst when it came to the Russian spy. Which was why she was out here tonight doing her darnedest to drown. The SEALs needed someone who could make a positive ID on Petrov when they captured him on the Anna Belle.
The cargo ship had gone silent the moment it crossed into international waters, and the only reason they knew where it was now was compliments of a hurricane hunter aircraft that’d made a visual sighting of the ship on its last pass through Hurricane Jessamine that afternoon.
Were it not for that chance sighting, nobody would have any idea where Petrov and the ship he’d fled on had disappeared to.
The ship’s manifest said it was bound for the Dominican Republic with food and humanitarian supplies. Perhaps that part was true, at any rate.
One of the SEALs had a radio headset plastered to his ears. He shouted a course correction back to the muscular man wrestling the tiller, the team leader, Commander Cole Perriman.
He was easily six foot three and built like a god. The high-tech wet suit currently clinging to his torso was an exercise in truth in advertising. Every beautiful, perfect muscle was clearly outlined for her viewing pleasure. Thank you, God.
At the moment his hood was pushed back, and his short dark hair was plastered to his skull. Still, his face was handsome and rugged. She knew from earlier that his eyes were pale, icy blue and practically glowed against his darkly tanned skin.
The members of his team called him Frosty. Although the nickname initially made her think of cheerful snowmen, after two minutes in his presence, she understood the moniker. The guy’s nerves were made of pure ice.
Their pitifully small craft topped a massive swell, and she thought she caught sight of a black shape looming ahead. But then the rain squall around them intensified, and they slid down the back side of the swell into a black trough bordered by massive walls of water on all sides. Lord, the ocean was big. She felt tiny and insignificant in the face of these gigantic waves. She was not a particularly religious person, but a prayer entered her head now to whatever deity might hear her plea to please save them all from this insanity.
The only good part about being down in the troughs was they got a momentary break from the screaming winds trying to tear their faces off. The rain, blowing at a hundred miles per hour or more, felt like a power washer trying to scrub the flesh off her bones.
She would be more inclined to whimper in fear were it not for how unconcerned these guys seemed about the storm. They were self-possessed and untalkative, exuding a certain cool self-confidence.
“There’s the Anna Belle!” the one called Bass shouted as they topped another huge, heaving swell.
“Where are its lights?” she shouted back.
Commander Perriman answered from behind her, “Good question. They may have lost power. If they’ve taken on enough water, they could have flooded their engines and backup electric generators.”
“That sounds bad” Nissa ventured to reply.
The SEAL called Ashe responded, managing to infuse his voice with dry irony, even while shouting over the storm, “It would suck to be them in a storm like this without power.”
The big twin motors on their rigid inflatable boat powered them up a half dozen more mountain-steep swells before they finally drew close to the darkened container ship. It was actually the scariest moment of the journey so far when a swell tilted the Anna Belle way over on its side toward them, a huge pile of containers looming overhead, threatening to topple the ship and kill them all.
“Suit up!” Perriman ordered the team. All the hoods came up. Nissa already had hers up, and it held in place the earbuds and throat microphones the team would use to communicate once they boarded the Anna Belle. She covered her eyes with the night-vision goggles that had been stowed around her neck. The three men beside her leaped into lime-green relief against the heaving black sea.
“Ship’s listing pretty bad,” Perriman commented over their discrete radio frequency.
“Fifteen to eighteen degrees to the port side,” Ashe replied. He sounded like an expert sailor. “She’s looking top-heavy, too. With those containers stacked high like that, they act as a wall to catch the wind. Hurricane could blow the ship over if they get crossways of a big enough gust.”
Okay, that sounded really bad.
“Let’s get on and off her as fast as we can,” Perriman ordered. “I don’t like the looks of her seaworthiness.”
Great. The ship they were about to board was on the verge of capsizing and sinking. Just how every girl wanted to spend her Saturday night.
They tied off their craft to a cleat low on the hull of the Anna Belle, and then Bass, using welded rungs on the hull, climbed the side of the ship like a freaking monkey. He lowered a rope ladder from the deck down to them.
