Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(120)

“So she’s an illegal?”

“Maybe. She’s definitely not your normal, garden-variety consumer. She’s got no driver’s license, no car or health insurance, and only one credit card listed under that name. The credit limit is five hundred dollars.”

A fake identity, Hawk thought grimly. Someone was baiting a nice mousetrap for him with a wet, willing, and very attractive female body.

The singing halted. A towel slid over the shower door and vanished. “Gotta go, Izzy. Keep digging.”

“Will do. Watch your back, pal.”

Silently Hawk broke the connection. The field knife was still hidden in his sleeve when he sat down in the shadows, his exhaustion forgotten as he waited for his intruder to emerge. He’d give her five seconds to start explaining who she was and why she was in his room. If he didn’t like what he heard, he’d start eliciting answers. Naked or not, gorgeous or not, the woman was a simple military objective as far as Hawk was concerned.

Down the corridor the shower door opened. Steam billowed into the airy bathroom, and Hawk watched her toss a towel around her head. As she attacked her hair, she switched to an old Beach Boys tune, and with every movement her towel hitched up, offering him an excellent view of long legs and gleaming skin.

Water ran in the sink, and bottles slid across the vanity. Hawk stood up, his back to the wall, as fabric rustled in the room next door.

When she finally appeared in the doorway, a towel was wrapped around her damp body and her hair lay thick and dark on her shoulders. Big balls of white cotton were stuck between her toes and she walked carefully, rubbing some kind of cream on her bare arms.

He spun her hard, his hands around her shoulders a second later. He felt her body tense.

She didn’t make a sound. She didn’t waste time or energy on protests or screams. As far as Hawk was concerned, this was proof enough that she was a professional, not an innocent stranger.

Except for one brief moment when her eyes went blank.

Almost as if she were about to faint.

And that was the oldest dodge in the book, he thought grimly.

“Who are you?” she rasped. When he didn’t answer, she swallowed hard. “Are you from Kelleher’s office?”

“Never heard of him.”

Her face was sheet white. “Did Isaacson send you?”

Hawk filed the names away in his memory, on the slim chance she had revealed her contacts. But he doubted she would be so stupid. So far her responses had been well trained and flawless.

He decided the greed angle would work best, and he was about to offer her triple what the others were paying her when he noticed a mesh container leaning against the wall on the floor. It was reinforced black nylon, like the carrier used for a small dog.

Or for a priceless government lab animal.

Hawk checked the floor, but saw no movement. Outside lightning cracked and the wind hurled itself against the windows.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and began to scream.

Hawk cut her off with a hand clamped across her mouth. After ten hours outside, he was cold, wet, and exhausted. His rib hurt and his disposition was getting nastier by the second.

He checked the floor with every movement, turning her at the same time so he could make a careful sweep. If the animal was here, it had to be guarded at all cost. Hawk was fully prepared to give his life to guarantee its safety.

Something stabbed him hard in his side, just below his rib. He grunted at the sudden wave of agony, and in a second she shot past him.

She was struggling with the front door when he caught up with her, gripping her mouth and shoving her against the wall. “Where?” he growled.

She didn’t answer, fighting him furiously.

“Where is the animal, damn it?”

Somehow she had managed to wedge one bare foot in the open door. Down the hall Hawk saw two men approaching. The damned female was going to create a scene, and that was the last thing the government needed.

“Move your foot out of the door,” he said quietly. “Otherwise, I start breaking small bones.”

His arm circled her throat as he pinned her to the wall. The towel fell as she continued to fight wildly, slamming him in the rib with her elbow.

So she’d been briefed on his weak points.

His arm tightened, cutting off her air. Hawk spun her back against the wall, holding her in place with his body while she made angry, muffled threats.

But her foot was still wedged in the door, and the two men were getting closer.

She was bordering on hysteria now, thrashing wildly, and Hawk saw his options dwindling fast.

That left him only one choice.

His fingers feathered along her collarbone, moving fast and expertly. Then they tightened. Three seconds later she stopped fighting him.

Five seconds later she was sliding down the wall, out cold.





“Christina Skye expertly weaves sizzling romance and suspense in this lightning-paced tale of intrigue.”

—Tess Gerritsen, author of Body Double

“With Christina Skye, it’s all about the thrill. . . . And her hot, sexy Navy SEAL is to die for!”

—Carly Phillips, New York Times bestselling author

“What a heroine! What a hunk! What an incredibly good book!” —Lori Foster, New York Times bestselling author of The Secret Life of Bryan

The driver eyed her in the mirror. “Haven’t seen you before.”