Kitabı oku: «A SEAL's Secret»

To Melyssa with big hugs and so much love!

Thank you for naming Morgan.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

1

Halloween

“MY, OH, MY, talk about temptation. A room filled with sexy sailors, an abundance of alcohol and deliciously fattening food.”

Olivia Kane cast an appreciative look around Olive Oyl’s, the posh yet funky bar that catered to the local naval base and locals alike. She loved the view of the various temptations, even though she knew she wouldn’t be indulging in any.

Not that she didn’t want to.

She’d love nothing more than to dive into a forty-ounce margarita and chow down on a plate of fully loaded nachos. But her career hinged on her body being in prime condition, so she’d long ago learned to resist empty calories.

And the sexy sailors?

One of those, she wouldn’t mind indulging in. Livi barely kept from pouting. She was pretty sure a wild bout with a yummy military hunk would do amazing things for her body, too.

It wasn’t willpower that kept her from indulging in that particular temptation, though. It was shyness, pure and simple.

But it was Halloween—time for make-believe. And tonight, she was going to pretend she was the kind of woman who had the nerve to hit on a sailor, to throw caution to the wind and do wildly sexy things without caring about tomorrow.

As if hearing her thoughts, Livi’s companion nudged her arm.

“Look, it’s like a roomful of kids trick-or-treating,” Tessa drawled. Livi glanced at her best friend as the brunette looked around the bar, humming warmly. The sound was at odds with her halo and fluffy white wings.

Livi laughed. “Sure, if you replace candy with tasty men, and swap kids with horny women out for fun, of course.”

“Mmm, no. Not my flavor,” Tessa said dismissively, despite her sexy wink at the guy staring at her. Tessa flirted like some women breathed, but she had no interest in military men. “I don’t mind indulging your sweet tooth for a while. I’m sure I’ll find something to my liking later.”

Later, meaning after she’d humored Livi’s foray into window-shopping through fantasyland. And Livi knew Tessa wouldn’t pressure or berate her for dragging her to a sailor bar where Livi would only sit around mooning over hotties like a high school wallflower before going home alone. Or worse, feeling guilty enough to go with Tessa to her club of choice to watch her flick men off like flies until she found one that interested her.

The petite powerhouse always managed to boil everything down to her favorite common denominator...sex. She did it with a wickedly confident smile and an air of assurance that was probably just as enticing as her curvy body and sultry looks.

Tessa was exactly the kind of woman Livi wished she could be. Oh, they were alike in some ways. Both were fit, smart and savvy. They had tons in common—like Tessa, Livi spoke her mind. She didn’t hesitate to talk about the sexy side of life with its myriad pleasures and delights. But unlike her friend, none of that came naturally to her. Hey, neither did one-armed planks, and she’d trained herself to do those.

Livi always thought she’d done a decent job training herself to ignore her shyness, too. She didn’t let her discomfort keep her from doing her job—and given the job she had, that was saying a lot.

Dubbed The Body Babe at twenty, she’d built her initial reputation as a fitness instructor and personal trainer. Certified by ACE, ACSM and AFAA, Livi had a degree in exercise science with a minor in nutrition and had started with dreams of training athletes. That she’d ended up as one of the biggest names in the world of personal training, the founder of Stripped Down Fitness and the star of the Fit To Be Naked videos and training programs wasn’t because of her body, and had nothing to do with ambition. She owed all that to her ex-manager absconding with investor funds, leaving her financially screwed. That he was also her ex-husband had been the icing on the cake.

Instead of breaking, as she’d known he’d figured she would, Livi had pulled up her spandex, tightened the laces on her sneakers and rebuilt her career. She’d had a lot of help—yes, including that of strippers. She’d ended up with the Fit To Be Naked program and a reputation as the woman with an ass that bounced quarters and a wicked way with a stripper pole, and she’d made it work.

So it wasn’t that she had an issue with sex. Livi loved sex. Once she got to know someone, she was totally comfortable with the subject. And if she hadn’t been, the last year spent training, taping and touring with burlesque strippers would have cured that.

More than curing it, Livi had come to realize how much she wanted what they had. Exotic, erotic, pleasure-filled experiences. Relationships, one-nighters, hot times. She no longer had any illusions about love or happy-ever-after. But dammit, she wanted hot sex.

She wanted to find a gorgeous guy, haul him into a quiet corner and see just how hard the Navy made those bodies.

Which was why she was here, she reminded herself. Since trying to pretend her shyness wasn’t an issue hadn’t been getting her anywhere, she’d decided to try a different tactic. To simply get the hell over it.

Because she wasn’t going to have a great sex life until she did.

So she’d approached her shyness the same way she’d have handled the weight loss of a recalcitrant client. She researched her options, made a list, worked out a schedule and incrementally pushed herself a little more day by day.

Which brought her to tonight.

A fun evening of socializing and maybe a little flirting, with the built-in reward of meeting hot guys who could inspire her fantasies until she was ready for actual sex again. And nobody, but nobody, inspired fantasies like sailors did.

And where better to indulge than in the safety of her aunt’s bar?

Anticipation zinging through her system, eyes eager for their treats, she scanned the bar, which was filled shoulder-to-shoulder with costumed partiers. After a few seconds and another scan, Livi frowned.

“Where are the Navy hunks?” she wondered, shifting to her tiptoes to see if they were on the other side of the room. At an inch under six feet, she usually didn’t have to even stretch her neck to see over most people. But apparently vertical was the theme of this year’s Halloween costumes. And while there were a few guys who were obviously sailors, they weren’t the yummy kind.

“This bites,” she said. “I was so excited for tonight, and now I feel like I got an apple in my trick-or-treat bag.”

“And you were looking for a banana?”

Livi laughed then nudged her friend. “C’mon. Maybe we’ll find something better on the other side of the bar.”

“After pushing through the mob to get this far? No way. Why don’t you wave or something to get your aunt’s attention. She’ll know where the treats are. Maybe she can ring that ship’s bell of hers and call them in.”

The bell? But everyone would stare at them.

The very thought made her skin crawl. But that’s why she was here, Livi reminded herself. Just another opportunity to overcome the debilitating chokehold shyness had on her.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and reminded herself she made her living by being stared at. This was no different. It only took her a couple of deep breaths to believe it.

Then with a few murmured apologies, Livi angled herself from her left side to her right through the crowd, pushing her way to the front of the bar. Not an easy task for a woman dressed like a Twinkie. But after a second she caught sight of her aunt’s distinctive blue Mohawk.

The older woman jerked her thumb toward a drunk, obviously telling him to get the hell out. The guy was twice her size, but none of her bartenders provided backup. They didn’t need to. Nobody messed with Roz. Livi wished that kind of thing were genetic. But search as she might, Livi couldn’t find a grain of that sort of confidence in her DNA code.

It wasn’t just Roz’s looks, although her hair added a good six inches to the slender woman’s already impressive height. Nor was it the array of tattoos snaking down her body. Nope, it was authority. Roz exuded it like Tessa exuded sex appeal.

Livi wondered what she exuded. Yawns, most likely.

“Livi!”

She winced when everyone within earshot—and given that Roz was pretty loud, that was a lot of people—turned to stare. Livi pasted on her public smile, ignored the buzzing in her ears and offered her aunt a finger-wiggling wave.

She turned to ask Tessa what she wanted to drink before Roz got there, but her friend was plastered up against a guy wearing a toreador costume, listening as he whispered something in her ear. From the wicked grin on her face, the something was pretty naughty.

“Livi, I didn’t think you’d make it,” Roz said as she skirted around the bar to give her niece a hug. Not an easy feat given how wide Livi’s costume was. Roz stepped back to give her a frowning once-over. “A body like yours, what the hell are you doing dressed like that?”

“Halloween is about the fantasy,” Livi explained. “My fantasy is junk food. Since I can’t eat it, I figured I’d dress like a Twinkie and be it.”

And then there was the cream filling. Her hard, rocking body hadn’t inspired any guys to push past her inhibitions and see what she had going on inside. But maybe tonight the subliminal message of her costume would.

“Hey, Roz,” Tessa called over Livi’s shoulder.

After a few minutes of small talk, her aunt said she had to get back to work. Livi looked around for a comfy barstool to perch on, but Roz had other ideas.

“Now, you girls head to the back room,” Roz said, giving Livi a hug as she issued the order. “You can crash the private party there—tell them I sent you. It’s quieter, less crowded.”

“But I came to see you,” Livi protested through a mouth that had gone dry at the words crash and private party.

“You came to drool over the frogs,” Roz said dismissively, referring to the Navy combat divers who frequented her bar. “And you will see me. Later. My relief bartender gets here in twenty minutes, we’ll visit then.”

Livi wrinkled her nose. Roz always had her pegged, which surprised them both, given that Livi had never met—or even known of—her aunt until two years ago.

“In the meantime...” Roz reached behind them. “I need your help with a party in the back room.”

Oh, no. Helping with a party meant facing tons of people. Strange people. Ones she’d never met before.

“Here. Take this with you,” she said, handing Livi a foil-covered tray, then giving a second one to Tessa. “You can pretend you’re a waitress if it helps.”

Livi reluctantly took the tray and the dismissal, even as her mind raced with excuses to get out of going.

“I could really use the help,” Roz added. “I’m short-staffed and it’s crazy in here.”

“I’m not crashing a party. I’ll just deliver the food then meet you back here.” Knowing the only thing Tessa disliked more than military guys was serving food, Livi gestured toward the tray in her friend’s hand. “I can take yours, too, if you want to stay here and enjoy the view.”

“You’ll change your mind once you see the party,” Roz predicted.

“Yummy?” Tessa asked.

“Delicious,” Roz confirmed.

“I’m there,” Tessa purred, proving once again she didn’t have to be interested in partaking to appreciate the view. “C’mon, Livi. Tastiness awaits.”

This was why she was here, wasn’t it? And playing waitress was the perfect out if it was overwhelming. With that little pep talk and a deep breath, Livi maneuvered her spongy goodness toward the back and prepared to be social.

“Stay close,” Livi instructed as she wrapped her free hand around Tessa’s so they didn’t get separated as they pushed through the crowd.

They barely made it halfway across the room when she felt Tessa slow down. Livi glanced over to see her friend had gone into full-on flirt mode. Hair was being tossed. Her eyes were glittering and her smile had taken on a wicked glint.

“Target spotted,” Tessa said, making as if to break away.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Livi said, laughing as she tugged Tessa along. She used her Twinkie bulk to push through the bodies, pulling her friend in her wake. “You’re crashing this party with me, remember? I’m sure there are plenty of men in there for you to choose from.”

“Yeah, okay. He had a small dick, anyway,” Tessa said as they reached the hall leading to the private section of the bar.

Her hand on the doorknob, Livi threw a frown toward Tessa’s rejected target. “How could you tell that?”

“The way he was sitting.” Tessa tilted her head so her hair flowed in a dark wave over one bare shoulder before shimmying a little so the fabric fell across her breasts just so. Then she offered Livi a wink. “He had his legs crossed above the knee, did you notice? No guy with a dick big enough to satisfy me can cross higher than the ankle.”

For a brief second, Livi could only goggle. Then she laughed so hard her nerves dissipated. And that, she realized, was probably why Tessa had said what she had.

Then again, Tessa knew a lot about dicks. So maybe she was being supportive and telling the truth.

“You know, if you were actually as oversexed as you pretend to be, you’d have dropped dead from exhaustion years ago,” Livi said, still giggling as she pushed open the door.

They made it two steps inside before stopping.

“Oh, boy,” Tessa murmured. “Now there’s a treat I wouldn’t mind showing a trick or two.”

Livi mentally echoed that with a purr.

Oh, boy, indeed.

The room was filled with men, all so gorgeous they blurred into a yummy candy store in Livi’s mind. It was a good night when a woman could choose between a gladiator, a kilted highlander and a bare-chested fireman.

But Livi only had eyes for the superhero.

Deep in conversation with another guy, he might have been sitting in the corner, but he still seemed to be in command of the entire room. He had a power vibe.

And he was a super hottie.

His hair was as black as midnight, and it brought to mind all sorts of fun things to do at that hour. The supershort cut accentuated the shape of his face with its sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. His eyes were light, but she couldn’t tell the color from where she was standing. Livi wet her suddenly dry lips and forced her gaze lower, wondering if the rest of him lived up to the promise of that gorgeous face.

Her heart did a slow thumpity-thump as her eyes meandered over his broad shoulders and down muscular arms encased in a tight blue shirt. She sighed her appreciation at the definition of his pecs beneath the bright letter S on his chest.

The man of steel. She wondered if he was hard all over.

Then he grinned at something his companion said.

And Livi got shaky. Her knees melted, her thighs trembled and nipples sprang to attention. That was an orgasm smile. She’d heard the girls at the club talk about those during training sessions, but she’d figured strippers exaggerated everything from their bumps to their grinds.

But now she knew.

All he’d have to add to that smile was an offer and she’d climax for sure. And she’d bet that alone would be better than the two years of sex she’d had with her ex.

“C’mon,” Tessa said, her tone as impatient as if Livi had made her wait an hour instead of a few lust-filled seconds. Whether it was because she knew her prodding wasn’t enough to get Livi’s feet moving or because she just loved the attention, Tessa raised her voice, along with her tray, and called out, “Who’s hungry?”

All eyes turned their way.

Tessa preened.

Livi felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Her bubble of lust burst under a dozen or so pairs of eyes and panic took its place. Deep breath, she told herself. And another. By the third her nerves were under control and her public persona firmly in place.

“Roz asked us to bring food,” she said in the same cheery tone she used to tell women to grab a pole and straddle it like a stallion. She tilted her tray to prove they weren’t really crashing the party.

“Food and guests—we’ll take them both.”

“C’mon in and join us.”

“The party just got interesting.”

Tessa took the warm chorus of welcomes at face value, sashaying across the room to begin introducing herself like the social butterfly she was.

Livi was more like a caterpillar than a butterfly, though.

Nerves danced in her stomach, keeping time with the buzzing in her ears. But Livi forced herself to cross the room. Chin high, smile sassy, she knew nobody looking at her could see her anxiety. She’d had years of practice at looking way more confident than she’d ever feel.

She didn’t let herself look toward the corner where Super Hottie was sitting, in case he returned her interest. He probably hadn’t even noticed their arrival. But still... It was difficult enough to sashay into a room full of strangers. She didn’t need to be self-conscious, too.

“Roz didn’t have to go to any trouble,” said a sweet-faced brunette dressed as a sleek black cat as she hurried forward to meet Livi. “She already provided enough food to feed, well, the Navy.”

The woman gestured to the crowd in case Livi didn’t realize the male half of the room were sailors out of uniform.

But Livi didn’t have to be told.

One, the bar, Olive Oyl’s, was in Coronado and catered to the naval base. Two, Roz didn’t close off half her bar for anyone but sailors. And three, well, just look at the guys. They were the epitome of all things military, from their fit bodies to their buzz haircuts to their powerful demeanor—even the guy dressed like a duck.

“Roz figured it’d been a while since dinner and thought people might be hungry. She has a need to feed,” Livi said with a smile and a shrug. “She brought cupcakes and lasagna to my catered wedding, just in case, and I quote, ‘the caterer sucked and the cake was boring-ass vanilla.’”

She bit her lip. Should she have said ‘ass’? Maybe she should have just kept quiet. She never knew if her words would be taken right or not.

But the other woman’s appreciative laugh eased her discomfort. Livi set the tray on the table and uncovered it, then stepped back as a dozen people attacked the egg rolls and nachos.

“Looks as if Roz knew what she was talking about,” the woman remarked, her expression slightly stunned.

“She always does.” Roz had even told Livi not to bother changing her last name, since the marriage wouldn’t last long enough for the paperwork to get filed.

“I’m Eden,” the cat said, holding out her hand. “You must be Roz’s niece.”

Livi blinked, wondering how she’d guessed. Most people didn’t believe them when they were straight-out told, since the only shared trait—physical or personality-wise—between Roz and Livi was their height. Few people knew them both well enough to realize how alike they were, from their taste for green tea to their love of animals.

Aha.

“Eden the vet?” Livi asked. “Purveyor of furry addictions and cuddly friends?”

“Oh, you met Pedro?” Eden exclaimed.

At ease now, Livi fell into a delighted discussion about her aunt’s new three-legged cat.

But her nerves still fluttered, like the wings of a nagging butterfly. Not about the crowd. She’d found someone to talk to. Nope, these were sexual nerves. The kind that were inspired by curiosity and fed by desire. The kind she hadn’t felt in, oh, about a million years.

Unable to resist any longer, sure they’d settle once she assured herself he wasn’t paying any attention to her, Livi looked toward the corner.

The lair of Super Hottie, the sexiest man in the room.

She blinked.

Livi’s butterflies turned into fighter jets, roaring through her system. She locked her knees against the trembling and thanked God that the thick foam of her costume hid her instantly rock-hard nipples.

Because he was staring.

At her.

And he looked as if he liked what he saw.

Uh-oh.

* * *

WELL, WELL. Lt. Commander Mitch Donovan leaned against the wall and watched the gorgeous blonde dressed as a Twinkie talk to Sullivan’s wife. Mitch had never had much of a sweet tooth. But right now he had an intense desire for a taste.

A mellow grin played over his mouth as his gaze drifted down the length of her golden sponge cake−shaped body. How could a woman covered in that inspire lust at first sight? Then his eyes wandered lower, to where the costume ended at mid-thigh. Those were some damned sexy legs, from what he could see. His eyes lifted to her face again and his lust kicked up a notch.

As a man who was used to excelling in extremes of all kinds, he appreciated his body’s instant reaction. He just didn’t quite understand the Pavlovian intensity of it.

She was pretty. Her honey-blond hair was twisted back, leaving her face bare. Dark brows contrasted with the color of her hair and slashed over eyes that seemed to be taking in the entire room at once.

His gaze narrowed. Her expression was friendly, her body language relaxed. But the hand she’d tucked into the side of her costume clenched and unclenched, her fingers fluttering over the foam.

Intrigued by the contrast—always curious when confronted with even the hint of a puzzle—he glanced back at her face to search for other signs. Of fear. Of nerves. Of...

Mitch’s brain went blank.

He didn’t think it’d ever done that before in his life. But it was blank, so he couldn’t be sure.

All he could see were those eyes. Huge, filled with so many emotions he didn’t understand. Lashes so lush they cast a shadow around those eyes, giving her the look of a startled doe. A very sexy, very appealing startled doe.

“Irish.”

Who was she? He held her gaze, imagining those big eyes staring up at him as he poised over her body. Wondering if she’d keep them open after he’d plunged inside or if she’d close them and ride out the ecstasy.

“Yo, you want a drink?”

She blinked, those thick lashes brushing the delicate curve of her cheeks. The move should have broken the spell, but Mitch still couldn’t look away. She wet her lips, the pink tip of her tongue briefly sliding over the full cushion of her bottom lip. He was glad he’d opted for jeans with his costume instead of tights. The zipper didn’t offer much give against his sudden erection, but he was hard enough that he’d have ripped right through a pair of tights, superhero-issue or not.

What did she taste like? Hot and mysterious? Sweet and tempting? How long would it take before he could find out?

“Mitch. Donovan. Lt. Commander, dammit.”

Mitch blinked.

Frowned.

What?

He turned his head, meeting Chief Petty Officer Gabriel Thorne’s impatient stare.

Damn.

“That’s Lt. Commander, dammit, sir,” Mitch shot back. “And what’s your problem?”

“I’ve been talking, but you’re not listening. I’ve gotta tell you, Irish, I’m not used to being ignored.”

Mitch’s lips twitched. Truer words were never spoken.

Shirtless, wearing buckskins and a feather behind his ear, Gabriel Thorne—call sign Romeo—was a man who thrived on attention. And he had plenty to thrive on. Mitch had served with the guy for six years off and on, and he’d never once seen him get shot down. Actually, Mitch wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Romeo make the first move. The guy was usually too busy fending off the women to need to.

“Since I don’t plan to go home with you tonight, I’m not worried about bruising your ego,” he told his friend, happy to gloss right over the temporary and mind-boggling fog of lust. Mitch wouldn’t let himself look toward the blonde again. Not until he’d had a chance to analyze what had happened and figure out how she’d managed to short-circuit his brain.

“My ego is Teflon,” Gabriel assured him, his black eyes dancing with amusement aimed at the both of them. Native American blood ran strong in Thorne, from the hint of blue in his close-cut hair to the gold of his skin and razor-sharp cheekbones. “Besides, it’s not just the ladies who pay close attention, my friend. I knock, the enemy listens.”

“Might have a little to do with the IED you’re aiming their way,” Mitch pointed out with a grin. A demolitions expert, Thorne could make a grenade dance around a corner, scurry down a hall or chase a man up a mountain. “But don’t let me rain all over your fantasy with my boring reality.”

“Bro, my reality is most guys’ fantasy.” Gabriel winked. “But then, so is yours. Navy SEAL, fast-tracking your way through the ranks with enough medals and commendations to cover a wall. And you’re not bad-looking, so you don’t scare away the ladies when they’re hitting on me. All in all, I’d say we’re a damned good team.”