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Navy Seal Security
Liz Johnson
ANYTHING TO PROTECT HERWounded navy SEAL Luke Dunham’s only goal is returning to active duty…until he rescues his physical therapist from a lethal attack. Now he’ll risk everything—even his recovery—to keep Mandy Berg’s attacker at bay. Mandy’s been burned before when she trusted the wrong man. And she knows better than to develop feelings for one of her patients. Yet how can she help falling for a man who does not hesitate to put his strength, his skill and his very life in harm’s way to keep her safe? Relying on anyone feels dangerous…but turning away Luke’s protection could be deadly.Men of Valor: These navy SEALS were born to excel…
ANYTHING TO PROTECT HER
Wounded navy SEAL Luke Dunham’s only goal is returning to active duty…until he rescues his physical therapist from a lethal attack. Now he’ll risk everything—even his recovery—to keep Mandy Berg’s attacker at bay. Mandy’s been burned before when she trusted the wrong man. And she knows better than to develop feelings for one of her patients. Yet how can she help falling for a man who does not hesitate to put his strength, his skill and his very life in harm’s way to keep her safe? Relying on anyone feels dangerous…but turning away Luke’s protection could be deadly.
Men of Valor: These navy SEALs were born to excel…
She tried to scream, but nothing came out.
The car was gaining ground, nearly to her. The driver had to see her. She was the only target in the vehicle’s lights. And it didn’t slow down. In fact, it was gaining speed.
Mandy managed a stumbled step as the car came faster and faster. Without a doubt she was about to die.
Suddenly an arm clamped her around the waist. It scooped her off her feet and sent her sailing out of the path of the car just as it careened by.
Mandy clenched her arms around Luke’s shoulders. She had no intention of letting go.
“It’s okay. You’re all right.” Luke’s chest rumbled against her side as he spoke into her ear, the even rise and fall of his shoulders resetting the tempo for her own. “It’s gone. It didn’t hit you.”
Her breath caught on a hitch. “Or—or you?”
“I’m fine.” His voice didn’t even wobble.
How could he possibly be so calm when someone had just tried to run her over?
Someone had tried to kill her.
By day LIZ JOHNSON is a marketing manager at a Christian publisher. She makes time to write late at night and is a two-time ACFW Carol Award finalist. She lives in Nashville and enjoys exploring local music and theater, and she makes frequent trips to Arizona to dote on her nieces and nephews. She writes stories filled with heart, humor and happily-ever-afters and can be found online at lizjohnsonbooks.com (http://LizJohnsonBooks.com).
Navy Seal Security
Liz Johnson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see
the deliverance the Lord will bring you today.
—Exodus 14:13
For the men and women of the United States military,
both active duty and veteran.
Your sacrifice does not go unnoticed.
Your service is forever appreciated.
May God bless and protect you.
Contents
Cover (#u03cfcdb9-f7c4-50e1-bd90-16e4f515a8f7)
Back Cover Text (#uc92434b7-89db-550a-bbac-f6c2c5505c18)
Introduction (#u8c3c5c47-4223-5f01-9ccb-a5fa7210559c)
About the Author (#uef6925eb-4dc2-5e2c-9388-824d370cb714)
Title Page (#ub1b59f98-b7a0-5522-84cc-d03c612a3c5d)
Bible Verse (#u1880d92b-b2c3-5c34-8fa9-048af228a283)
Dedication (#ud1a212f2-d3bd-5e0b-9f4e-65fb4f51e864)
CHAPTER ONE (#u74e458df-f802-57e9-b8b8-9617d6c3e161)
CHAPTER TWO (#u1e49c0b0-512b-5321-b9d0-16e485498061)
CHAPTER THREE (#u9e079a85-edba-5edc-b96e-0a7f4a33293d)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub253824f-d8e1-5cca-8807-e80ffdc318ef)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#ulink_2c37915c-290d-5967-9f46-88f558cd5a1e)
If Luke Dunham didn’t see another white coat until his last day on earth, it would still be too soon.
But he’d made a promise to his senior chief’s wife.
He clattered to a stop at the foot of the slanted ramp in front of a nondescript brick building, which looked just like every other in the medical complex. His gaze shifted from the steps at the front of the building to the too-short metal crutches digging into his sides.
Stairs or the ramp?
A low fire burned in his chest, and he squeezed his eyes closed against the flames that licked at his heart.
For years he hadn’t cared. Either way was fine. Either got him where he needed to go.
Now he cared.
Now he didn’t have an option.
He swung his left leg forward. The white brace succeeded in protecting his knee and also throwing him off-balance. Shoving one of his crutches out to the side, he caught himself just before his foot touched the ground.
He’d already made that mistake once. There was a reason his doctor had told him to stay off it at all costs.
It hurt. Like an inferno.
Like he’d taken another piece of shrapnel along that roadside in Lybania.
He opened his mouth, a pained groan on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back when the glass door at the top of the ramp flew open. A teenage girl bounced out, her strides so even he barely noticed that one of the knees below her shorts was wrapped in a black brace.
She flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder and shot him a shy smile as she started down the ramp.
He tried to return her gesture, but the IED that had stolen his ability to walk had also made it hard to find genuine happiness. He settled for a shallow dip of his chin and lumbered out of her way.
When the girl was halfway to him, the office door swung open and a woman with orange hair popped out.
“Juliana,” she said, before chasing the teen for five short steps.
Juliana’s one-eighty was less graceful than her forward motion, requiring at least two extra steps and the aid of the handrail, but her knee remained stable.
The wild-haired woman held out a bag, at which Juliana laughed, high and sweet. “Thanks, Tara.” Juliana slipped skinny arms through the straps, sliding a small backpack in place. “See you next week.” With that, she executed another awkward turn and ambled past him.
Luke looked up at the woman still leaning against the handrail, her arms now folded over her neon-green scrubs.
Was this Tara the Dr. Berg everyone said was so amazing? The physical therapist his senior chief on the teams, Matt, was convinced had gotten him back in fighting shape after his leg injury? But Matt’s injury hadn’t been a blown knee. He’d had a couple dozen stitches in his calf, a minor injury to his muscle.
Luke, on the other hand, had shredded every major ligament in his knee.
The doctor at Walter Reed Medical Center had offered him a medical discharge after that first scan. He’d told Luke there wasn’t much hope for a return to active duty. And every doctor thereafter had agreed.
But Luke had promised Ashley Waterstone, the senior chief’s wife, that he’d schedule a consultation with Matt’s physical therapist.
Squinting into the late-afternoon sun, he shuffled until he’d cut the distance between them in half. “I’m Luke Dunham.”
The woman’s gaze slid over him like a sculptor searching for imperfections in her masterpiece.
He’d been on the receiving end of that simultaneously curious and knowing stare before. And he’d enjoyed it for a few years. When he was younger. In his early days as a SEAL.
Now it made his stomach churn and his skin feel clammy, even in the warm San Diego air. “I’m early. But I have an appointment with Dr. Berg.”
“Of course you do, honey.” She gave a sharp nod and walked back to hold the front door open for him. Such a little gesture, but it still set his hands to itching. His dad had taught him that a man held the door open for a woman. Period.
That he couldn’t even do it for himself set off that blazing ache in his chest again.
“I’m Tara, Dr. Berg’s office manager.”
Matt had promised that working with her would change his life.
Maybe.
But that would require a life. And he wasn’t sure he had much of one left.
At least this was just a recon mission. He hadn’t committed to anything beyond talking with the good doctor...and picking up milk for his mom on the way home.
Tara was still standing with the door wide-open, and Luke hadn’t moved an inch. She raised her eyebrows and nodded inside, silently asking what was taking him so long. Sucking in a fortifying breath, he pressed his palms against the rubber grips of his crutches and began a slow lumber up the incline. As he reached the open entrance, a blast of cold air greeted him.
“Is it always a meat locker in here?”
Tara shrugged one shoulder as she led the way across a mostly typical medical waiting room. Sturdy chairs lined three walls, except for three conspicuous holes that could only be there for those who brought their own seats. The usual industrial carpet had been swapped for hardwood, which was easier to maneuver on.
He fell into one of the chairs and poked his tongue in his cheek as he took the clipboard that Tara held out to him.
“Fill that out, and then someone will take you back to see Dr. Berg.”
By this point, he could pretty much fill out a standard medical questionnaire with his eyes closed. It was all the same. Surgeries and allergies. Insurance and history.
But there, at the very bottom of the page, was a single question he’d never been asked on any other form.
How much do you want it?
There was no box to check next to it. Not even a black line to write on. Just a clear call to hard work.
