Wed to a SEAL (Hot SEALs) (Volume 8) Read Free

didn’t they?
    Even if she didn’t fall over from cardiac arrest, her letting herself worry obsessively could probably dry up her milk. Not only would she have to deal with an unhappy three-month old, she’d also have to spend money on formula. Not to mention losing her best asset at the club—her double D-cups brought on by breastfeeding. Any reduction in her tips would be financially devastating.
    She was being silly. Again. There’d be no heart attack. No drying up of milk. No getting attacked in the dark not far outside the gates of a US Naval base.
    If anything defeated her, it would be her own mind and self-doubt. Isabel realized that. Now she just had to figure out what to do about it.
    Sighing, she opened the car door and tossed her bag inside before sliding behind the steering wheel. Soon she’d be home. She’d kiss her baby, have a hot shower and a warm meal and feel a hundred percent better.
    Turning the key in the ignition, she waited for the car to start but nothing happened.
    Nothing at all.
    No sputtering. No whining. No sounds of an engine trying to come to life.
    Panic gripped her anew. What could be wrong?
    How should she know? Cars were not her area of expertise. She’d been in school for biology. Pre-med to be exact. If she ever got the mess her life had become cleaned up, she wanted to be a doctor.
    Even one year short of earning her undergraduate degree, healing a human body seemed far easier than fixing a combustion engine.
    She could reason this out. She was a smart woman. She took the key out and checked the gear shift. It was in Park so that wasn’t it.
    Pressing the brake pedal, she slid the key back in and turned.
    Again, she wasn’t rewarded with the sound she desperately wanted to hear.
    A knock on the window right next to her head had her jumping in the seat. She peered out and saw nothing but the broad torso of a man blocking her view of all else out the side window, until he bent low and made a motion for her to roll down the glass.
    Afraid to open the window to the bearded stranger, she yelled, “The car won’t start.”
    He nodded. “I know. If you let me take a look at the engine, maybe I can figure out why. Pop the hood.”
    The whole situation had the feeling of enormity. As if the decision she made next could mean her own life or death.
    The front door of the club swung wide and a single man stepped out. She saw the flash of a lighter as he leaned against the building and took a drag from the cigarette.
    She was being foolish. This man obviously wasn’t trying to kill or kidnap her from the front of a busy club. He’d wanted her to roll down the window so they could talk about her car without yelling and he needed her to unlatch the hood so he could look for a problem.
    All reasonable requests, and she’d met them with suspicion. But she was a woman alone and he was a man—a large man by the looks of him—so he’d just have to get over her suspicion.
    She reached down and struggled to find the release for the hood beneath the dash. She finally had to give in and admit she couldn’t find it in the dark. All the while, he stood by, arms crossed, waiting.
    He didn’t move except to step back when she unlocked the door so she could open it. Once she did, the dome light flashed on.
    She didn’t have time to look for the latch before he’d already taken a step forward. He swung the door wider, reached down and pulled on the lever. The hood released with a loud pop .
    “Don’t try to start it until I say. Okay?” He waited for her answer, probably starting to doubt her mental capacity since she was acting like an idiot.
    “Okay.”
    Once he seemed convinced he could trust her to follow instructions, he stepped around to the front of the car and she lost sight of him as he raised the hood.
    Now that the fear of bodily harm was passing, the more real concern of what she’d do if her car was broken took over. She didn’t have any money saved for emergencies. Certainly