Before We Kiss (Uncharted SEALs Book 6) Read Free

the while praying “Clipboard Man” had more than a damn pen to take out the bastard.

Chapter Two
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    P oppy slammed into the ground, crushed from above by a huge man wearing a cowboy hat. Unable to suck in a breath, she closed her eyes, expecting gunfire to erupt, but it never happened.
    Instead, cheers rang out as the sounds of scuffling came to a halt.
    “We’ve got it handled,” came a gruff voice from above.
    Poppy peered beyond her rescuer’s shoulder to find an elderly man standing over them.
    As the cowboy who rested against her came up on his elbows, she tried to drag in a deep breath but realized she couldn’t. He’d knocked the breath out of her. She balled her fist and hit his chest.
    His dark brows drew together in a ferocious scowl when he noted her distress. “Can’t breathe?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble.
    She nodded, panic starting to set in.
    He leaned closer, pinched her nostrils together then sealed his mouth over hers and blew.
    Her chest expanded. His fingers let go of her nose, and she drew a deep breath through her nostrils, and then another, before realizing his mouth still pressed against hers.
    Their gazes locked, and he slowly drew back his head.
    She wheezed, her breaths ragged, and wondered why she wasn’t still hitting him. “That wasn’t necessary,” she gasped.
    “I know,” he said, with a wicked waggle of his eyebrows.
    “My diaphragm was only temporarily paralyzed. As soon as I relaxed, my breath would have come back.”
    “I was only helping you relax,” he drawled.
    Then she remembered the thin dart that had dangled from one of her assailant’s arms before he’d dropped like a rock to the pavement. “Was that your dart?”
    The man above her arched a brow. “What dart?”
    “The one that…” She glanced beside her to the body lying in repose on the road. No dart protruded from his arm. She frowned. “I know what I saw…”
    “Things happened fast.”
    Poppy narrowed her gaze. “Who are you?” She angled her head to give him a blistering glare. “Did Daddy send you?”
    A throat cleared beside them. Again, the elderly man with the burly build loomed over them. “My grandson bothering you, miss?”
    The other passengers crowded closer. The two security officers the cruise line had assigned were busy using zip ties the driver held out to bind the feet and hands of the still-sleeping bandits. But the passengers were whispering among themselves, their gazes locked on her and the man in the cowboy hat.
    All she needed was for one of them to snap a picture of her lying on the ground, a big man with a lazy grin pinning her there, and her father would have a conniption. “Can you move? I don’t think I’m in any danger now.”
    Mike Espinoza, the security guard who’d been at her elbow ever since they’d left the ship, stepped into view just as her rescuer climbed off. Mike extended a hand to help her up. “You okay, Miss Shackleford?”
    No doubt she was bruised, scraped, and dirty, but she counted herself lucky. She’d understood enough of the conversation between the bandits and whoever was on the other end of the phone to know she’d barely escaped a kidnapping for ransom. “I’m fine.”
    “Unfortunately, this excursion is at its end.” Mike turned to the driver and handed him the bag of stolen wallets and jewelry. “You get everyone aboard the bus and then have one of the passengers return the stolen items. We’ll move the truck out of the way. There’s a turnaround not too far ahead.” He aimed a glare at her rescuer. “I’ll need your assistance to get this crew into the pickup truck. We’ll leave them for the local authorities.”
    The cowboy touched the brim of his hat and followed Mike.
    His grandfather moved to cup her elbow, turning her with surprising firmness toward the bus. “After you, ma’am.”
    Wiley followed “Clipboard Man” over to the bandits’ vehicle. The other security guard had dragged their unconscious