A SEAL's Secret (8 page)

“Let me finish thinking this through.”

Oh, no. She knew that look. It was her mother’s “how can we make this molehill into an attention-grabbing mountain” look.

Livi had a lot to be grateful to her mother for. Her career was kicking fitness butt thanks to Pauline’s vision and drive. And Livi loved that. But, damn it, she was still so worn-out. For an introvert to spend over a year touring and meeting people was a lot. For a shy introvert? It was a dance through hell. She’d done it once. She could—would—do it again. But she had to recharge first.

“I’m on hiatus,” she reminded her mother. “No new projects until next year, remember?”

“Darling, you know I never break a promise.” Her smile edged with calculation, Pauline reached over to take Livi’s hand. “But we need a new focus. A way to reach the top. This could be it.”

“I thought we’d had it with the Fit To Be Naked program.” She didn’t mention the television deal. Hey, if that’d fallen off Pauline’s radar, she wasn’t about to bring it up again.

“Fit To Be Naked got you noticed, darling. And the projected earnings are fabulous. But now is the time to capitalize on your rise, not to relax.” Pauline patted her hand. “You wouldn’t train for a marathon then take a week’s vacation before running it, would you?”

Maybe. It depended on what was waiting for her at the finish line.

“The SEALs’ fitness program is famous. It’s one of the most sought-after in the country,” Pauline mused, turning to Roz. “I researched it when I was looking for markets for Olivia. Hundreds of trainers offer what they call a SEAL workout, but they’re usually based on supposition.”

“Bet you’d get a lot more traction if you had SEAL input,” Roz chimed in, sliding her turkey through the gravy.

Livi was pretty sure this was the first time she’d seen her mother and aunt make nice with each other.

“You want me to develop a SEAL workout?” Livi asked slowly, not wanting to say anything that’d mess with the tentative peace.

“I think it’s worth looking into.” Pauline nodded.

“Our girl here can probably tap a SEAL herself and get some info.” Seeing Livi’s frantic, if tiny, shake of her head, Roz quickly added, “Or you know, I can pull some strings, see if I can get some inside info on their actual training.”

Grateful, Livi sipped her water. Then it hit her like a bolt of lusty lightning. This was another way to connect with Mitch. Excitement swirled in her belly, her pulse doing a little happy dance.

“Well, then,” Pauline said, lifting her glass in a toast. “It looks as if we have a fun new project for the New Year.”

Livi almost did a happy dance herself, right there in the middle of the restaurant.

She couldn’t wait until January first.

* * *

M
ITCH
STRODE
DOWN
the hall to Captain Tilden’s office, wondering about his order to report immediately. He couldn’t imagine what Public Affairs wanted with him. He and the team had completed their mission three days ago and finished debriefing the previous one—nothing that’d merit a press release. If there had been anything else PR-worthy, Mitch knew his grandfather would have filled him in. The Admiral had headed back to Virginia after the debriefing, leaving orders for Mitch to follow before Christmas Eve. That order, the Admiral had added, had come from Denise, who would withhold his Christmas pudding if her son weren’t in attendance.

Apparently there were occasions when a mother just had to buck protocol.

With almost two weeks before he had to make that appearance, Mitch planned to put his time to good use. He had to collect on a bet. He’d only talked to Livi once since Halloween, but her phone number was etched in his memory. He was looking forward to using it.

He had been too well trained to let thoughts of her distract him from the job at hand. But Mitch had drifted off to sleep each night remembering the taste of her.

He knew Romeo would claim that those bedtime memories proved Mitch was addicted. But Mitch figured it was just the opposite. It’d been six weeks since he’d tasted her, and he’d managed to contain his thoughts all that time.

He deserved a reward.

And he’d get it tonight.

Today he was diving into vigorous obstacle training. The team needed to work off the adrenaline from the mission before they shifted back to the tactical flight command training he was in Coronado for. He’d been leading the team in a belly crawl over the sand, each man carrying a fifty-pound log on his back, when the order to report came in.

Now he had to find out why.

Mitch stopped outside the captain’s office, took off his cap and beat it against the leg of his fatigues to knock off the sand. Then he put it back on and stepped through the door.

Standing out like a sore thumb was the tiny potted evergreen decorated with glittering anchors and miniscule sailors’ caps. Utilitarian gray with a glittering candy cane broach, Tilden’s secretary was a perfect match for the sparsely furnished office. She glanced up from her keyboard when he entered and tilted her head to the other door.

“He asked that you go right in,” she instructed in a gravelly voice.

Deciding that Tilden must do most of his public relations on the internet or at lunch, Mitch knocked to announce his arrival, then stepped into the room.

The first thing that hit him was a scent.

The ocean at midnight.

Livi?

“Mitch Donovan. What a pleasure.”

Brow creased at the greeting, Mitch looked around the room. The only person there was Captain Tilden. The guy was his grandfather’s age, but unlike Admiral Donovan’s air of dignified leadership, Tilden’s air was that of a happy hippo. Wide-faced, with jowls that had a mind of their own, the guy hefted himself out from behind the desk and came forward with his hand out.

His own hand halfway to a salute, Mitch quickly changed directions and shook Tilden’s hand. He surreptitiously sniffed to see if the guy was wearing Livi’s perfume.

Nope. Just cheap cigars and—Mitch sniffed again—was that roast beef?

“Sir,” Mitch said, feet planted hip distance apart, hands clasped behind his back. “Donovan reporting as ordered.”

“I don’t stand on ceremony in here. Go ahead, take a seat,” the man suggested, as he did the same.

Once Mitch sat, the captain tapped his fingers on his desk twice and smiled.

“Our office has been asked to accommodate a media venture. The SEALs workout program is one of the most sought-after, as you know. The press is all over it. Hundreds claim they are teaching it. Everyone wants a piece. It’s like they think if they can do a SEAL workout, they’re hot shit.”

Mitch waited a beat, not bothering to react. He knew Tilden was trying to get a rise out of him. But Mitch had trained as a green ensign under some of the toughest recruit division commanders in the Navy. Until the pudgy cigar puffer across the desk found a ruder way to insult Mitch’s mama, one that included ocean life, twenty sailors and a cannon, he wouldn’t even come close to riling Mitch up.

“How does this apply to me?” Mitch finally asked. He could see how they could
make
it apply, but he’d have liked to be wrong.

“You’re the man,” Tilden said, cocking his finger like a gun and pulling the trigger. “Big SEAL on campus, so to speak. You’ll be the go-to guy for this project. The public face.”

“Wouldn’t someone else—”
anyone else
“—be better suited for this? One of the BUD/S trainers, for example.”

“The orders came down from on high, my friend. Special request. You are the golden boy and they want you in the limelight. Might have something to do with that brand-spanking-new promotion you got, Commander.”

And there it was. The reason the Captain was acting like a dumbass. Well, Mitch considered, looking the guy over, one of the reasons. Mitch had dealt with plenty of that in his years of service. The judgment, the speculation, the jealousy. It was a lot easier for some guys to believe that nepotism, favors and ass-kissing had played into Mitch’s swift rise through the ranks than to accept the fact that he was simply one of the best.

“What are the orders?” Mitch asked calmly. No point engaging an idiot. Besides, he knew his demeanor only irritated guys like Tilden.

He knew he was right when the older man’s smile dipped into a brief sneer before he got control of his face again.

“Take the visitor on a tour, outline the BUD/S training and give a few glowing details of how hard you SEALs keep working to stay fit.” Tilden’s wink made him look like a leering hippo rather than a happy one. He patted a folder on his desk. “We won’t share our current training program, of course. I’ve pulled together a basic dossier of authorized responses as they relate to the subject matter and of details of the previous program that you’re authorized to share.”

He paused before adding, “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of the importance of confidentiality in this matter.”

Seriously? Since when was fitness fraught with secrecy?

Mitch wasn’t about to ask. Especially considering he’d probably surpassed the captain’s security clearance about five years back. Mitch had served countless missions, completed a myriad of assignments in his decade in the military. But he couldn’t remember one like this. Maybe it was connections—it’d be naive to think nepotism had never touched his career. Or maybe it was having served under intelligent leaders who recognized the correct use of the tools under their command. Whatever it was, it was sure missing right now.

“Your liaison is waiting in the visitor’s center.”

Accepting the dismissal and the dossier, Mitch got to his feet.

“The objective is in the file? The contact’s company profile?” Mitch couldn’t hold back his scowl when Tilden shook his head. “A name?”

“Sorry, Donovan. This didn’t come through regular channels, so I have limited specifics. But hey, you’re a SEAL. I’m sure you can handle a fluff assignment like this.”

It only took three seconds before Mitch’s hard stare wiped the smirk off the Captain’s face. The older man got to his feet, his fingers tapping his desk next to his phone.

“Anything else, sir?” Mitch asked, his tone low and deadly. More because he wanted to amuse himself than because he was irritated. It was pointless to waste energy on guys like Tilden.

“Dismissed.”

Mitch executed a neat about-face and marched out the door. He didn’t slow down or relax his posture until he was halfway to the visitor’s center. He gave a quick glance at the dossier with its dearth of information and frowned. There wasn’t even a reporting officer listed.

Sloppy work. Mitch glanced back toward Tilden’s office and shook his head. At least he didn’t have to go into battle with the guy.

Mitch folded the file and stuffed it into his back pocket, then pulled open the door to the visitor’s center.

Looked like he’d be doing some recon along with PR.

He stepped into the visitor’s center and was hit with that scent again.

The ocean at midnight.

Mitch’s mouth watered.

His body went rock-hard.

Livi.

6

I
T
WASN
’
T
HARD
to find her.

Besides the civilian manning the desk, she was the only person there. Even if the room had been packed with people, he’d have seen her. She was impossible to miss.

Once in battle, Mitch had taken a blow that’d sent him over the edge of a cliff. He had the same dizzy, mind-bending feeling then as he did right now.

Livi.

Her hair was loose today, flowing in blonde waves across her forehead, over her shoulders to the tips of her breasts. She wore a little red suit, but she’d have glowed just as brightly in burlap.

“Mitch.” With a wide smile, she unfolded herself from the chair, those mile-long legs uncrossing as she straightened and stepped forward. “Hello.”

Mitch’s mouth went dry.

From the toes of her shiny black shoes, which were straight out of his most embarrassing dreams, to the flash of red in her earlobes, she screamed class. He ran his gaze up, then down again, taking in the skirt that showed enough leg to cause a traffic accident. Up to her fitted jacket, snug at the waist and edged in black. Sexy class.

Livi dressed in spandex and sponge cake had been adorable. The kind of woman he could laugh with before sliding into playfully delicious sex.

Livi of the rock-hard body he’d watched on video had been impressive. The kind of woman who’d challenge him to prove his manhood in very erotic ways, all of which would have required them to be naked.

But this Livi?

This Livi was confidently sexy. She looked like a woman he could take home to meet his family. Even more, she looked like the kind of woman his mother was always bringing home to meet him. Like one who’d help his career. Who’d mingle with the brass, hold her own with their wives and charm everyone she met.

That shouldn’t have turned him on.

But somehow it did.

Or maybe it was the shoes again.

“Are you here to see me?” he asked, taking her hand in his and slowly pulling her closer. Not close enough to give the civilian manning the desk anything to talk about. But close enough for Mitch to breathe in her scent. To feel her warmth and see the delight in her eyes as they widened at his move.

“I am indeed here to see you, Commander Donovan,” she said, her smile widening. “And congratulations.”

“Are you congratulating me on your visit?” he teased, his fingers sliding over her slender wrist. He could feel her pulse racing at a gratifying pace. But there was no anxiety in her eyes, no worry in her smile. Which left excitement.

“I’m congratulating you on your promotion,” she said with a laugh. “But if you’d like, you can consider my visit a part of that congratulations.”

“I think I might.” Reluctantly, he released her hand, sliding his fingers along her wrist and over her palm, skimming her fingers as her hand slid away.

And grinned when her breath hitched a little.

“I’m also here to get your input into the new fitness program I’m developing,” she said in a husky tone.

Yeah. He’d figured that.

“Why don’t we go somewhere where we can talk.” He slanted a glance at the now-staring clerk. “Privately.”

“Do you have a storage room handy?” she asked, her words low enough that only he heard them.

He also felt them with the same intensity as he would have if she’d run her tongue down his body.

Seeing the heat in her big brown eyes, the sensual curiosity in their depths, he changed his mind. Her words were a turn-on, but he was sure her tongue was pure magic.

“Why don’t we start with an office,” he suggested, tilting his head toward the door. She stepped around him, offering him a mouth-watering view of her backside. The red fabric hugged, slid, tempted. Mitch hurried forward to open the door for her, hoping he didn’t have drool on his chin.

As soon as they stepped into the weak December sunshine, he added, “I’ll see what I can do to find one with crates.”

Her eyes widened then she burst into laughter. The sound turned heads. The heads stayed turned out of appreciation as people caught sight of how gorgeous she was with the sun glinting off her hair.

He’d thought he’d been excited about calling her again. He’d known he was looking forward to seeing her again.

But obviously he’d had no clue how strongly he’d want her, crave her—God help him, need her.

And that was after just one look.

What would he feel after he’d spent more time with her? Gotten to know her? Tasted, touched and buried himself in her?

He couldn’t wait to find out.

* * *

R
ELIEF
POURING
THROUGH
her with enough intensity to make her lightheaded, Livi took a good, deep breath for the first time in two days. Ever since her mother had told her she’d gone ahead with the SEAL workout idea, Livi had been worried. They’d agreed that they’d discuss it after the New Year. She’d figured that would give her time to talk to Mitch, to make sure he was okay with it. But when she’d spoken with him after Thanksgiving, she’d chickened out. He’d said he’d be out of touch, which she’d taken to mean he’d be off doing intense SEAL things. She hadn’t wanted to waste their little bit of time on that when it was so much more fun to ask him what he was wearing. She’d do it during the next call, she’d promised herself, sure there would be at least one before the New Year.

She slid a sidelong glance at Mitch, grateful to see he didn’t seem put out by her visit—or the reason behind it. Seeing her look, he offered that warm smile of his and Livi forgot her worries. She almost forgot her name.

He was just so yummy.

Livi was a woman gifted with a vivid imagination. So vivid that it sometimes overruled her memories, painting them with a much rosier hue than the reality had been. So she’d wondered if she’d built Mitch up to be better-looking and sexier in her mind.

As he led her across the compound toward a bank of low buildings, she kept sneaking glances at him. Her appreciative gaze took in the breadth of those amazing shoulders, the chiseled perfection of his biceps and the slender angle of his waist as it tapered beneath his simple blue T-shirt.

His cap, the same blue as his eyes, cast a shadow over the upper part of his face. But that only served to highlight his mouth. Oh, what a mouth.

Livi almost tripped over her own feet, she was so distracted by the memory of how tasty that mouth had been.

“You okay?” Mitch’s fingers tightened on her elbow.

“Mmm,” she murmured, shifting her eyes forward to watch where she was going.

Yes. She definitely had a vivid imagination.

But her imagination had nothing on the reality of Super Hottie.

Her brows rose at the sight of a dozen men jogging past in shorts and tanks, each one a testament to the sexiness of fitness. As they passed, she noticed they were all soaked, as if they’d just come out of the ocean. Despite her appreciation of the view, she shivered a little.

“Cold?” Mitch asked.

“No, but I think I would be if I were them.” She tilted her head to indicate the column of men that’d now passed. “I know we have good weather, but December is a little chilly for swimming, isn’t it?”

“Sea Air Land—that’s what SEAL stands for and that’s where we train. Weather doesn’t matter.” His eyes amused, he gestured to a path angling to the right. “If I were still in Virginia, we’d be doing the same workout.”

“Doesn’t it snow there?”

“Weather doesn’t matter,” he repeated.

Another group passed, these men all wearing white uniforms, complete with caps. Livi smiled at them and one or two smiled back, while the rest kept their eyes forward.

“This is like a movie set,” she realized as she glanced around. “One of those wonderful black-and-white ones with moody background music and a tragic opening scene.”

“Starring the prerequisite femme fatale in a tight skirt?” He glanced at hers and gave an appreciative smile. “Looks like you’d fit the role.”

Delighted both at what she took as a compliment and at the fact that he’d watched enough old movies to appreciate the genre, Livi put a movie star oomph into her step.

“Yeah, you’d definitely fit the role,” Mitch murmured with an appreciative smile.

“I’d need a very charming, very sexy leading man,” she decided, tapping her finger against his bicep. It was all Livi could do not to give a long hum of approval. “A big, handsome SEAL determined to save the world.”

“The whole world?”

“Sure, why not?” she said with a laugh, waving her hand to indicate everything around them. “This seems like a saving-the-world kind of place.”

“Is this your first visit to the naval base?” he asked, guiding her into one of the larger buildings.

Livi hesitated, not quite sure how to answer. She’d visited the naval base once before in an attempt to meet her grandfather. But she’d never made it out of the visitor’s center.

Thankfully, before she could figure out if she should share that or not, they came face-to-face with a group of men who had clearly just finished an extreme workout.

“Oh, my,” she said quietly, appreciating the view as only a woman devoted to fitness could. It was like seeing her professional Holy Grail.

Muscles gleamed and rippled beneath their damp T-shirts, all of them exuding the sort of energy that came from intense physical exertion. Livi wanted to bottle that energy up and take it with her to show clients just why they should push their bodies.

Even better, she’d like to take the men. If they didn’t inspire a woman to want to feel her best, Livi didn’t know what would.

“Yo, Donovan. We thought you deserted.” The speaker was roughly the size of a house, his red hair shaved in an old-fashioned flattop.

She felt the subtle change in Mitch.

He didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. He simply shifted his stance. As soon as he did, the group quieted, settled.

Command, she realized. He didn’t question it and neither did his men. But every one of them respected it.

“Livi, meet...” His words trailed off as the men made a show of jostling each other out of the way to get to the front of the group.

Livi bit her lip to keep from giggling. Mitch shook his head then waved a hand to address the entire group.

“Meet part of the team,” he said. “Gentleman, this is Olivia Kane. She’s here to discuss our fitness program.”

“Best in the world,” one man said.

“Ain’t nothing like it,” another added.

Suddenly the crowd was made of people who expected her to converse instead of impressive examples of fitness devotion. Butterflies danced through Livi’s stomach, making it hard to breathe for a second.

Common ground, she reminded herself as she took a deep breath. Just focus on common ground.

“Everything I’ve heard says you’re definitely the best,” she agreed with her brightest social smile. “I’ve studied similar programs and spent a week training with a former Green Beret, but even he said your program is impressive.”

“You trained with a Green Beret?” the redhead asked, looking her up then down, as if trying to figure out how.

“While I was getting my ACSM certification,” she confirmed. She’d taken extensive courses with him later as well, but mentioning that would probably be considered bragging. It hit her that she really wanted Mitch to know her qualifications. To realize she was serious about her career—dedicated to being the best she possibly could.

Before that need overruled her hesitance to brag, a voice called from the back of the crowd.

“Whose ass do I have to kick to get out the door?”

A few guys laughed and a few others shifted to open a path for the speaker. Tall and lean, his short black hair gleamed almost as much as his golden skin did.

When he saw Livi his eyes flashed to Mitch for just a moment before he offered her a grin.

“Well, well. I knew you were the type to stop traffic.”

“Gabriel,” Livi greeted with a smile, holding out both hands to take his. “How are you?”

“Who?” muttered the redhead.

“Gotta mean Romeo.”

“You talking about Thorne?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the mutters.

“Hit the showers,” Mitch ordered quietly, an amused expression on his face.

Before Livi could blink, the crowd was gone. For such large men, they moved incredibly quickly. Only one remained, a tall, lean guy with sea-green eyes too dreamy to belong to a military man.

“They don’t know your name?” she asked Gabriel.

“We’re new,” he explained. “It takes some teams a while to decide if they want to be on a first-name basis or not.”

“I thought you’d been here for a while,” Livi said. She didn’t have to count backward to Halloween. The seven weeks had been marked with tally marks in the back of her mind.

“Time’s relative.” Gabriel shrugged. He tilted his head to indicate the quiet man next to him. “Besides, Irish, Scavenger and I have been here, there, everywhere since Halloween—”

“Why don’t you meet us tomorrow?” Mitch interrupted. “You can fill Livi in then on the intricacies of social graces among the men.”

Gabriel rocked back on his heels with a grin. He tilted his head toward the man next to him and said, “I dunno, Scavenger. I think Irish might be trying to get rid of us.”

“Sounds like he’s trying to get rid of you,” the other man said with a fleeting smile. “Me, I’m already gone.”

With a polite nod, he murmured
“Nice to meet you”
to Livi. He gave Mitch a modified finger-to-forehead salute.

“He’s shy,” Gabriel explained with a shrug, his expression making it clear that even though he knew the word, he really didn’t understand the concept.

But she
definitely
understood. Livi sent a sympathetic smile toward Scavenger’s retreating back. Poor guy.

“Why don’t you go help him work through that issue,” Mitch suggested pointedly. Arms crossed over his chest, he gave Gabriel an arch look.

Which Gabriel deliberately ignored.

“Nah, he’s fine.” Shifting his weight a little so his shoulder was toward Mitch, Gabriel gave Livi a brilliant smile. “So, gorgeous, how’ve you been? And even more importantly, how is your angelic friend?”