Their mission: deliver a ruthless spy to justice
But can they outlast a storm as dangerous as their target?
Tracking an elusive Russian operative, CIA agent Nissa Beck has no choice but to ask for help as a hurricane descends on New Orleans. She turns to alpha navy SEAL Cole Perriman. Used to conquering impossible odds, now he must protect beautiful Nissa. But as unstoppable storms and passions rage, theres more at stake for them than survival.
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author CINDY DEES is the author of more than fifty novels. She draws upon her experience as a US Air Force pilot to write romantic suspense. Shes a two-time winner of the prestigious RITA® Award for romance fiction, a two-time winner of the RT Reviewers Choice Best Book Award for Romantic Suspense and an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Best Author Award nominee. She loves to hear from readers at www.cindydees.com.
Her Mission with a SEAL
Cindy Dees
www.millsandboon.co.uk
HER MISSION WITH A SEAL
© 2018 Cynthia Dees
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Version: 2020-03-02
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Grab the ladder! someone shouted faintly.
Nissa grabbed it with both hands and wrapped her legs around the rope, hanging on with superhuman strength she didnt know she possessed. God bless adrenaline.
A big green shape came up the ladder. It didnt stop at her feet, though. It moved up behind her until the SEALs head was at her waist.
Keep going! Cole shouted.
Not. A. Chance.
No way was she letting go of the rope to keep climbing.
He climbed until his head was level with hers, his body spooning hers, his longer arms grasping the rope ladder around her slender frame. Warmth from his body penetrated the back of her wet suit as he plastered his entire body against hers.
One foot. Just put your right foot up one rung for me, he shouted into her ear as another huge gust of wind buffeted them. Itll be calmer on the deck of the ship. His breath was warm against her exposed cheek. He felt alive. Vital. Real in the midst of this unreal nightmare.
* * *
Code: Warrior SEALs: Meet these fierce warriors who take on the most dangerous secret missions around the world!
* * *
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Dear Reader,
Im super excited to finally give you Commander Cole Frosty Perrimans story! Youve waited through a bunch of books for him to get his very own happily-ever-after, and youve totally earned this one.
Nissa Beck is a CIA psychological operations officer, and the only woman I can imagine giving Cole a run for his money. But can she break through his icy reserve to find the passion lurking beneath? I dont envy her the task...
And may I take this moment to apologize for the opening scene? It positively gave me the shivers to write. You might want to get a few bland crackers and nibble on them as you start this book. I recommend a hot beverage of your choice, too. And maybe a cozy chair next to a warm fire. Oh, and a blanket. There. Now were all ready to settle in and enjoy the wild ride as Cole and Nissa chase down one of the most dangerous men in the world and dare to love each other.
Happy reading!
Cindy
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Author Bio
Title Page
Copyright
Introduction
Dear Reader
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
Chapter 21
Extract
Chapter 1
Nissa Beck had done some crazy things in her life, but sailing into the teeth of a rapidly intensifying hurricane in a tiny dinghyin the darkwith a trio of Navy SEALs was right up there on the stupid scale. Theyd actually strapped her into the boat so she wouldnt get tossed out as their craft went nearly vertical climbing the wave faces towering overhead and then plunged nearly vertically down the waves crashing into black troughs of icy seawater.
Throat-paralyzing terror was the only reason she hadnt screamed herself hoarse already. The horror of being out here at the mercy of the wildly tossing ocean was indescribable. As was the sheer size of the waves. They were small mountains. Literally. Except for the ones that periodically collapsed on top of them, burying them in frigid seawater for endless seconds until they popped back up to the surface and could breathe again. In short, it was a living nightmare.
Shed swallowed more seawater than she could fathom and thrown most of it back up along with the last meal shed consumed three hours ago. A lifetime away in a safe place. On land. Not in the path of Hurricane Jessamine.
But her target had fled the United States and was out here somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico making his getaway on a container ship call the Anna Belle. The ship wasnt one of the super giants, just a relatively small cargo ship. The manifest said she sailed with a crew of twenty, was loaded with wheat below decks and carried 120 containers stacked above decks.
What the manifest didnt say was that she also carried a passenger. A man named Markus Petrov. One of the most elusive spies ever to operate on American soil. A colleague of Nissas, an American spy named Max Kuznetsov whose mother had been killed by Petrov, had spent nearly a decade tracking the guy and had spent most of the past three years undercover in Petrovs criminal organization learning his true identity.
It was a brilliant setup, actually. Petrov ran a Russian crime gang and used its proceeds to finance his extracurricular espionage activities. In the meantime, he hid behind the Russian mafia, who fiercely protected his identity.
Max and a team of Navy SEALs had destroyed most of Petrovs criminal organization last week in a spectacular shoot-out deep in the bayous of south Louisiana. But Petrov had disappeared.
Unfortunately, Max also needed to go to ground, along with his fiancée, a psychic who had helped him identify Markus Petrov at long last. Until Petrov was apprehended, the two of them were in extreme danger and had been whisked into federal protective custody. This left no subject matter experts on Petrov except Nissa to help with the manhunt.
Shed been tracking Maxs progress in the Petrov case for years and was the CIAs second most knowledgeable analyst when it came to the Russian spy. Which was why she was out here tonight doing her darnedest to drown. The SEALs needed someone who could make a positive ID on Petrov when they captured him on the Anna Belle.
The cargo ship had gone silent the moment it crossed into international waters, and the only reason they knew where it was now was compliments of a hurricane hunter aircraft thatd made a visual sighting of the ship on its last pass through Hurricane Jessamine that afternoon.
Were it not for that chance sighting, nobody would have any idea where Petrov and the ship hed fled on had disappeared to.
The ships manifest said it was bound for the Dominican Republic with food and humanitarian supplies. Perhaps that part was true, at any rate.
One of the SEALs had a radio headset plastered to his ears. He shouted a course correction back to the muscular man wrestling the tiller, the team leader, Commander Cole Perriman.
He was easily six foot three and built like a god. The high-tech wet suit currently clinging to his torso was an exercise in truth in advertising. Every beautiful, perfect muscle was clearly outlined for her viewing pleasure. Thank you, God.
At the moment his hood was pushed back, and his short dark hair was plastered to his skull. Still, his face was handsome and rugged. She knew from earlier that his eyes were pale, icy blue and practically glowed against his darkly tanned skin.
The members of his team called him Frosty. Although the nickname initially made her think of cheerful snowmen, after two minutes in his presence, she understood the moniker. The guys nerves were made of pure ice.
Their pitifully small craft topped a massive swell, and she thought she caught sight of a black shape looming ahead. But then the rain squall around them intensified, and they slid down the back side of the swell into a black trough bordered by massive walls of water on all sides. Lord, the ocean was big. She felt tiny and insignificant in the face of these gigantic waves. She was not a particularly religious person, but a prayer entered her head now to whatever deity might hear her plea to please save them all from this insanity.
The only good part about being down in the troughs was they got a momentary break from the screaming winds trying to tear their faces off. The rain, blowing at a hundred miles per hour or more, felt like a power washer trying to scrub the flesh off her bones.