Navy Seal Security
ANYTHING TO PROTECT HERWounded navy SEAL Luke Dunham’s only goal is returning to active duty…until he rescues his physical therapist from a lethal attack. Now he’ll risk everything—even his recovery—to keep Mandy Berg’s attacker at bay. Mandy’s been burned before when she trusted the wrong man. And she knows better than to develop feelings for one of her patients. Yet how can she help falling for a man who does not hesitate to put his strength, his skill and his very life in harm’s way to keep her safe? Relying on anyone feels dangerous…but turning away Luke’s protection could be deadly.Men of Valor: These navy SEALS were born to excel…
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ANYTHING TO PROTECT HER
Wounded navy SEAL Luke Dunhamâs only goal is returning to active dutyâ¦until he rescues his physical therapist from a lethal attack. Now heâll risk everythingâeven his recoveryâto keep Mandy Bergâs attacker at bay. Mandyâs been burned before when she trusted the wrong man. And she knows better than to develop feelings for one of her patients. Yet how can she help falling for a man who does not hesitate to put his strength, his skill and his very life in harmâs way to keep her safe? Relying on anyone feels dangerousâ¦but turning away Lukeâs protection could be deadly.
Men of Valor: These navy SEALs were born to excelâ¦
She tried to scream, but nothing came out.
The car was gaining ground, nearly to her. The driver had to see her. She was the only target in the vehicleâs lights. And it didnât slow down. In fact, it was gaining speed.
Mandy managed a stumbled step as the car came faster and faster. Without a doubt she was about to die.
Suddenly an arm clamped her around the waist. It scooped her off her feet and sent her sailing out of the path of the car just as it careened by.
Mandy clenched her arms around Lukeâs shoulders. She had no intention of letting go.
âItâs okay. Youâre all right.â Lukeâs chest rumbled against her side as he spoke into her ear, the even rise and fall of his shoulders resetting the tempo for her own. âItâs gone. It didnât hit you.â
Her breath caught on a hitch. âOrâor you?â
âIâm fine.â His voice didnât even wobble.
How could he possibly be so calm when someone had just tried to run her over?
Someone had tried to kill her.
By day LIZ JOHNSON is a marketing manager at a Christian publisher. She makes time to write late at night and is a two-time ACFW Carol Award finalist. She lives in Nashville and enjoys exploring local music and theater, and she makes frequent trips to Arizona to dote on her nieces and nephews. She writes stories filled with heart, humor and happily-ever-afters and can be found online at lizjohnsonbooks.com.
Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see
the deliverance the Lord will bring you today.
âExodus 14:13
For the men and women of the United States military,
both active duty and veteran. Your sacrifice does not go unnoticed. Your service is forever appreciated. May God bless and protect you.
Contents
If Luke Dunham didnât see another white coat until his last day on earth, it would still be too soon.
But heâd made a promise to his senior chiefâs wife.
He clattered to a stop at the foot of the slanted ramp in front of a nondescript brick building, which looked just like every other in the medical complex. His gaze shifted from the steps at the front of the building to the too-short metal crutches digging into his sides.
Stairs or the ramp?
A low fire burned in his chest, and he squeezed his eyes closed against the flames that licked at his heart.
For years he hadnât cared. Either way was fine. Either got him where he needed to go.
Now he cared.
Now he didnât have an option.
He swung his left leg forward. The white brace succeeded in protecting his knee and also throwing him off-balance. Shoving one of his crutches out to the side, he caught himself just before his foot touched the ground.
Heâd already made that mistake once. There was a reason his doctor had told him to stay off it at all costs.
It hurt. Like an inferno.
Like heâd taken another piece of shrapnel along that roadside in Lybania.
He opened his mouth, a pained groan on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back when the glass door at the top of the ramp flew open. A teenage girl bounced out, her strides so even he barely noticed that one of the knees below her shorts was wrapped in a black brace.
She flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder and shot him a shy smile as she started down the ramp.
He tried to return her gesture, but the IED that had stolen his ability to walk had also made it hard to find genuine happiness. He settled for a shallow dip of his chin and lumbered out of her way.
When the girl was halfway to him, the office door swung open and a woman with orange hair popped out.
âJuliana,â she said, before chasing the teen for five short steps.
Julianaâs one-eighty was less graceful than her forward motion, requiring at least two extra steps and the aid of the handrail, but her knee remained stable.
The wild-haired woman held out a bag, at which Juliana laughed, high and sweet. âThanks, Tara.â Juliana slipped skinny arms through the straps, sliding a small backpack in place. âSee you next week.â With that, she executed another awkward turn and ambled past him.
