Merciless Survival (SEAL Team Blackout) by Em Petrova

Author:Em Petrova [Petrova, Em]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-22T18:30:00+00:00

* * * * *

Farah flipped off the TV and tossed the remote onto the sofa next to her. Her eyes were grainy from so much screentime and the hotel walls seemed to be creeping closer and closer to her with every hour that passed. Even the ceiling felt lower, pressing down on her head and contributing to her dull headache.

Across the room, one of Ronin’s teammates—a man called Bridger—was at the table, his legs propped on the other chair, crossed at the ankles. He scrolled through his phone. Sometimes he’d get a call and step into the bathroom to answer it.

She didn’t know him well at all, but over the past eight hours he’d been in this room with her, she’d gotten a sense of his moods. They swung from good-natured to laser focused in a blink.

As if feeling her gaze on him, he pivoted his head and looked at her. The crease between his brows flattened and he offered her a smile.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

“No. Yes.”

His brow hiked up.

“I mean, I was wondering if everyone on your team—whatever you guys are—all have the same personality traits.”

His smile widened. “Why, do I remind you of everyone else?”

“No. Just one man.”

He held her stare for a long minute and then dropped his boots to the floor. “Ramsey.”

She nodded.

He twisted in his seat, giving her his full attention. “What about us is the same?”

“Well, obviously, I don’t know either of you very well. But you both go from relaxed to very focused so fast that it makes my head spin.”

With a chuckle, he pushed to his feet, walked over to the minifridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He held it up to her in silent offer. She shook her head, so he nudged the door shut with his foot and unscrewed the bottlecap.

“That’s probably due to the nature of our job rather than our individual personalities.”

The opening couldn’t have been more perfect; she wanted answers, and Ronin would never give them to her. She’d slept with the man—knew the size and shape of every hard inch of muscle on his body—but she didn’t even know what he did for a living.

“And what job is that?” She kept her tone light.

He lowered the bottle he’d been swigging, his lips twisting. “Nice try, Miss Wolfe.”

“It’s classified?”

“You could say that every move we make is classified.”

She chewed her lower lip. “I was never going to find you guys rescuing me on the news, was I?”

Smile still fixed in place, he shook his head. “The things we do don’t hit the news.”

“So you really are SEALs?”

He wagged a finger at her. “You can’t play guessing games with me.”

“Damn.”

A laugh burst from Bridger. “I have to say, your looks probably let you get away with a lot.”

Her spine straightened. “My looks?” She raised a hand to her cheek where about a thousand freckles dotted her skin. “What do you mean?”

His smile fell away, but his gaze traveled over her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you by saying that.

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