Hard Bounty: A Seal Contemporary Romance

112 Pages·2019·0.17 MB·english

by  Jillian Riley [Riley

HARD BOUNTY
A SEAL CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
JILLIAN RILEY
CONTENTS
Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
DESCRIPTION
J
axon:
I didn’t miss the war, but I sure as hell missed my team.
I am a Navy SEAL, all my buddies are SEALs, traveling the
world, saving lives and fighting for our country. That’s what
we do!
I didn’t want the rod in my leg, and I wasn’t gonna let an injury
keep me from the life I loved. Unfortunately, my CO had a different
idea. Since leaving the SEALs, I’ve been a PI for my buddy’s
agency. I spent my time chasing down cheating husbands and
corporate criminals. I worked hard in the private sector, but I was
bored. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a vacation. So,
when I found out my next job was to bring an embezzling former
accountant for Genotym Inc. back to Houston to face charges and it
was going to take me to the Caribbean? How could I say no.
I wanted the sun, the beach, and the women in bikinis looking for
some attention. I wasn’t counting on intense attraction and soulful
green eyes. After all, how hard could it be to get one woman on a
plane back to Houston…
Amelia:
I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for Michael Smith’s BS. He was my
boss at Genotym, Inc. and I should’ve known better. I liked the
attention. I liked to feel wanted. When I found out he was stealing
from the company- I’d had enough. Sure, he tried to deny it, but I
had the proof on a USB.
I quit, told him he needed to come clean, cashed out my 401K
and took off to Grenada to lick my wounds and figure out what I’d do
next. When I was almost mugged on the streets of St. George’s, a
handsome stranger came to my rescue. He was the sexiest man I
had ever seen. He seemed like the type that left broken hearts in his
wake. I wasn’t looking to get involved but when things go from bad to
worse who else could I turn to for protection. Even if I had everything
to lose, including my heart…
CHAPTER 1
T
he fire burned a white, hot heat he could feel coating his
throat and insides. He had to get out. He couldn’t leave his
team. He rushed through each room, searching. Where
were they? Where were his guys? He screamed for them. No
answer came. He heard the cries of mothers looking for their
children as the room began to collapse around him. He dodged
heavy wooden beams as they tumbled like pebbles down around
him. He screamed again but he was alone. He looked up to see a
burning roof beam falling right on him.
Jaxon Acker woke up gasping and covered in sweat. His bare
chest heaving with exertion. His wounded leg ached under the
weight of the blankets. He tossed them off and rubbed at the searing
pain. The nerves tingling up and down the side of his leg, pinging off
the metal rod that held his bones together. A constant reminder that
he was unfit to serve. The fire was real. Seven years had passed
since he was medevaced out of his FOB in Kunar Province, but the
nightmares and the pain made it seem like yesterday.
Getting up, he walked over to the bathroom. Early morning
sunlight peeked through his bedroom blinds. He already knew today
would be hot and humid as hell. He splashed cold water on his face.
As cold as it could be coming out of the tap in a Texas summer.
Looking at himself in the mirror he checked his bloodshot grey eyes
and tried to count the scars that lined his lean, tanned upper body.
No matter how much time had passed, the scars didn’t fade.
Splashing his face one more time, he decided against shaving for his
meeting. The more scruff on his chin, the more intimidating he
looked. That always worked better for him when dealing with their
buttoned-up corporate clients. He liked the soft office types to be
slightly threatened by his appearance. He quickly showered and
dressing in his usual black jeans, black collared shirt, and cowboy
boots. He ran his hands through his jet-black hair, shaking it into
place and went downstairs to his garage. Jaxon prided himself on his
motorcycle. The tricked out black Harley he rode now was vastly
different than the functional Christini 450cc he was forced to ride in
Afghanistan, not that he didn’t like the Christini, it was a good bike.
But he loved the way it felt riding the tight, loud Harley through the
backroads of the Piney Woods that made up the Houston
backcountry. It felt like freedom. He also loved the looks he got from
the elegant, well-dressed women in the fancier parts of town when
he rode through. He never missed an opportunity to give a pretty
lady a wink, a wave, and the tip of his hat whether her man was on
her arm or not.
When he first returned from the war he was lost and listless. He
had nothing to stimulate him or keep him going. His best friend from
childhood Ethan Dennis, had asked him to help with his budding P.I.
firm, Ex-Force Investigations. Ethan was ex-Special Forces and Jax
trusted him and his judgement. He was missing the comradery of the
SEALs. So, Jaxon jumped at the chance to be part of a team again.
Granted, private investigation was not as glamorous as television
and movies made it out to be. For the last five years he had earned
his living sneaking and creeping. Following cheating husbands,
consoling rich, lonely housewives, and cornering corporate thieves.
There was enough work in Houston’s bustling economy to keep him,
Ethan and their third partner Blake Snyder busy for years, but lately
Jaxon had been getting bored.
Ethan had been after him to take some time off. Said he
deserved it after all the good work he had done. Jaxon figured Ethan
was getting tired of his complaining about the types of jobs they took.
He was never really one to take vacations, but he was starting to
think maybe his buddy was right. He had this one last corporate job
to finish and then maybe he would take some time off. Looking down
at his notebook he saw the address, 601 Travis Street—right in the
heart of downtown. Great. There was nothing Jax hated more than
downtown Houston during the work week. He challenged anyone to
who said different to prove to him the traffic was worse anywhere
else, he doubted it was. At least it was early enough he would be
able to get into a garage before the rest of the rat race showed up for
work. Climbing on his bike, he switched on the ignition, folded his
notebook up and tucked it into his jacket. Opening the garage door,
he turned the run key on and started the bike. The familiar rumble of
his bike coming to life beneath him reminded him that he was the
one in control. Shaking his head to clear out any remaining cobwebs
from his nightmare, he put on his black Stetson Lariat and headed
out into the heat. Might as well get this job over with and take that
vacation, he thought. Hell, Ethan was right, he deserved it.
He pulled up to the massive office tower luckily finding a spot on the
street out front. Smiling to himself, he pulled in, front first, no
adjustment needed. If he had to have an 8am meeting downtown at
least the parking gods gave him a sweet ass spot. He knew the
couple of people who were out on the street in front of the building
watched him pulled in, and he didn’t care. He took out his notebook
again to check the name of the exec he was meeting.
The man’s name was Michael Smith. He was the chief financial
officer for Genotym Inc. a software company that got its start
providing DNA testing kits for those ‘find your family’ internet
companies. His office on the 75th floor. Got it. Of course, it had to be
a high floor. The corporate types who could afford Ethan’s rates
always kept their offices on the highest floors. Jax would comfortably
put money on Michael Smith never having suffered an
inconvenience in his life. He probably never pissed into desert sand,
or slept outside in one degree heat, using a flat rock for a pillow. No,
when a man had an office on the 75th floor of a Houston office tower,
Jax was pretty confident they had lived very different lives.
Jaxon had no beef with Genotym. He even saw some value in
the internet and the economy it created. It certainly helped him do
his job a lot of the time. It was always easy to find a cheating
husband through his secret Facebook or Twitter account. But on the
whole he found it to be a place where people went to waste time. He
was not interested in wasting time and didn’t have a lot of respect for
those who did.
He walked into the building and checked in with security at the
front desk. The guard looked completely disinterested as he handed
Jaxon his visitor badge. The poor schlub didn’t even double check
Jaxon’s i.d. or bother to find out if he was armed, which he always
was. Jaxon thought with regret how easy it would be for any bad guy
to make it past security and get anywhere they wanted to inside this
building in order to do harm. Maybe there was opportunity there.
Something to help him get out the cheating husband game. He
should talk to Ethan about starting a private security consulting arm
to the business. They could give corporations insight into their
vulnerabilities when it came to security. Starting with hiring
experienced professionals to man their front desks. Ex-Force could
probably make a killing and it would be much more stimulating than
what he was doing now. He would even wear a suit and tie if he had
to.
The elevator opened up into the penthouse. Light hardwood
floors greeted Jaxon surrounded by white walls with glass and
mirrors lining the hallway leading up to a modern looking reception
desk. A pretty redhead behind the desk blushed when Jaxon tipped
his hat her way. He noted her name plate said Peggy O’Meara. Of
course, with that fiery hair she would have a good old-fashioned Irish
name.
“Hello, darlin’… excuse me…Miss O’Meara. I’m Jaxon Acker,
here to see a…um… Mr. Michael Smith?” He laid on his sweet Texas
drawl a little thicker than necessary as he leaned over the desk. He
didn’t like to wait in lobbies, and he found if he gave a little flirt to the
gatekeepers of these offices he could get a lot further a lot faster.
“Um… yes, sir. I will page him right away.” Jaxon thought she
was cute as a new blush warmed her cheeks making her blue eyes
dance. He had a strict rule about mixing business and pleasure, but
maybe when his work was done with Genotym he could circle back
and see where else he could make Miss Peggy O’Meara blush.
“Much obliged,” he said.
Less than five minutes later a tall skinny man with a thinning
blonde hairline, in what looked to Jaxon like a cheap polyester suit,
came out from behind a set of heavy, wooden double doors. Jax
looked him up and down, he liked to size a client up. See what it was