A SEAL's Seduction (15 page)

“It’ll just be a few moments,” Alexia said. Then, in a move
that shocked all three of them, she laid her hand on her father’s arm.
“Please.”

For a second, the admiral looked as if she’d pulled a gun on
him. Then he gave a gruff nod, awkwardly patted her hand and turned to go. He
even pulled the door shut behind him.

“Holy shit,” Blake said, almost whispering. “How’d you do
that?”

“I’m really not sure,” she told him with a little laugh, giving
the closed door a wide-eyed look. “But enjoy it while you can, since he’ll
probably be back soon.”

Blake’s grin only lasted a second, then faded as he stared at
her. Damn, she looked good. Now that they were alone, he wanted to grab her and
hold tight. To haul her off to the nearest private space that didn’t have her
father’s stamp on it, and have his wild way with her.

He wanted to get the hell out before he gave in to any of those
things and hurt them both.

“We should join them,” Blake said, gesturing to the door and
wherever beyond it the dining room was.

“In just a second.” Looking at her feet, shod in impressively
high fuchsia pumps, Alexia chewed on her lip, then gave a sigh and met his eyes.
“I really do want to thank you. I also wanted to apologize. And, as soon as I
confess, I’ll have to do both of those again, but I should get the first one out
of the way, well, first,” she babbled.

Blake stared at her, trying to unravel her words.

Despite the gravity of her tone, her eyes danced as she watched
him try to work it out.

“What do you want to thank me for?” he asked, starting at the
top.

“For rescuing me.” She held up one hand as if to halt his
objection. “Yes, I know I thanked you already and you will claim it was just
your job. But this is for more than rescuing me.”

“You want to thank me for holding your hand?” he asked, trying
to make a joke out of what was surely going to be an emotional mess.

“Well, you are pretty amazing at the hand-holding,” she teased.
Her voice was low and sexy, bringing back all kinds of memories of her naked
body, his exploding climax, the sounds she made as she took her pleasure.

God, he wanted her. And not just sex with her. He wanted that
about as much as he wanted his next breath, but thinking about it in the
admiral’s office gave him visions of the brig.

“But I wanted to thank you for a little more than that,” she
said, pulling him off the ride to fantasyland. “I was scared. Even after you got
me out of that nightmare, I was scared. You kept me from falling apart. You made
me feel safe.”

“That’s my job,” he dismissed, trying to shrug the discomfort
off his shoulders.

“Yes, that’s the point. It is your job. Your job, what you
do, makes people feel safe.” She stepped forward,
close enough that the familiar, heady scent of her shampoo enveloped him in a
subtle cloud. “I threw your career in your face last year. I used it and, well,
your connection to my father as an excuse to slam the door shut between us.”

Since Blake had done exactly that himself, he’d have to be a
pretty big ass to hold a grudge. Or even to pretend to, for the sake of keeping
a wedge between them. “You have every reason to see my career as an issue,” he
told her. “It is one. I’m not a good relationship bet. I’m not going to be
around a lot of weekends to go out. I’m not a ‘home at five for dinner’ kind of
guy. I live on the edge and that takes a toll.”

He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his slacks and
resisted the urge to kick the thick leg of the admiral’s desk. That was all
true. That, and so much more. But he wanted, insanely and with all his heart, to
ask her to take a chance anyway. To let him love her, despite those
challenges.

But he couldn’t. He loved her too much to ask that of her.

“My career is who I am,” he said with a resigned shrug.
“Relationship success with guys like me is pretty hard to come by. So rejecting
me last year? That was a smart move.”

“You think I was right to reject you?”

His wince was minuscule, more an ego reflex than regret.

“I think we have too many things stacked against us. My career,
your upbringing. Your father, my...” His voice trailed off. Even in the name of
full honesty, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was still grieving.
Instead, he shrugged as though his heart wasn’t weeping like a
sad, little baby. “Like you said last year, the
issues between us are too big.”

* * *

A
LEXIA
FOLDED
HER
FINGERS
together,
then flexed them apart before twining them together again. He listed all the
same reasons they shouldn’t be together that she’d already told herself.

She should be grateful. And to show that gratitude, she should
finish her thank-yous and let the man have his dinner.

“You’re right,” she told him. “Your career is a big part of who
you are. Just as mine is a big part of who I am.”

She saw it, the flicker of anger in his eyes. It was that fury
on her behalf that did it. That tipped the scales over from smart to heart.

“Which brings me to the confession, apology and second
thank-you,” she said, surreptitiously stepping closer. Close enough to breathe
in his scent. To feel his warmth. To see deep into his eyes and revel in the
heat there.

“You might want to make it fast. I doubt your father’s going to
wait long before reminding us we’re missing the meal,” he said, looking toward
the door then back, shifting from one foot to the other. Was he nervous? How
sweet was that, Alexia thought, almost smiling.

“Actually, my mother knows I wanted to speak with you. She’ll
keep Father from interrupting.” Yet another shock to add to the many of the day.
All it’d taken was a request and the word
please
and
her mother had been happy to run interference.

“Okay. Confession?” he prompted, shifting away a few
inches.

This time she did smile. She liked that she made the big bad
SEAL worry. It gave her hope for the rest of this discussion.

“I listened at the door,” she told him softly. Then, using his
shock, she stepped right into his space and looked up at him with wide-eyed
innocence. “I heard my name and couldn’t help myself.”

“Your father doesn’t like your job,” was all he said. He didn’t
rat out the admiral’s threats. He didn’t claim heroship for standing up for her.
This was it, she realized. Her chance to use that angry-grudge habit her mother
had commented on and turn it into Blake keeping secrets from her.

Except she knew better.

“My father is commanding, overbearing and arrogant,” she said
with a shrug. “But he’s also right.”

“That you should leave your job?” That shocked him and caused
just a little anger, if his frown was anything to go by. “Why? Because he’s got
a puritanical streak? Or because some asshole terrorized you and tried to use
you to create a weapon?”

“Why does it sound like you’d be equally angry if I answered
yes to either of those?” she mused.

“I think its bullshit that you let anyone bully you. For any
reason.”

Alexia nodded. “I agree. Nobody has the right, even in the name
of love, to try to control someone else’s life.”

Blake frowned. “Even if you think you’re doing it to keep them
safe? Or because you believe a relationship can’t exist on half-truths?”

“You know, there are elements of my job that are classified.
That I’m not supposed to discuss,” she told him, twining her fingers with his.
He didn’t pull away, but she could feel the tension in him, as if he wanted to
run. Or grab her. She figured if she held on long enough to stop him from doing
the former, he’d go for the latter. “Would you have an issue with that? I mean,
my job revolves around sexuality. I’m constantly dealing with people’s sexual
fantasies, figuring out what turns them on. I’m a scientist. We do a lot in the
name of experimentation.”

She left it there, with all that innuendo hanging out exposed
and ugly.

He frowned, as if he’d never thought of her job in those terms
before. Then he gave her a
nice-try
look.

“So you’d be okay with a relationship filled with secrets? One
that didn’t have total openness and honesty?” he asked, his tone calling
bullshit on that.

“No.”

He nodded, as if he knew he was right.

“I need total openness and honesty in a relationship,” she said
slowly. “Or I should say emotional openness and honesty.”

“I can’t stop what I do, Alexia.” He lifted both her hands to
his lips and brushed her knuckles with soft kisses. Then, sounding as if he was
ripping the words from his gut, he added, “Not even for you. And what I do is
dangerous. I lost one of my best friends last year. He caught a piece of
shrapnel right in front of me. I know how it feels to have to go on after that.
I’ve seen how hard it is on the people left behind. I’ve lived it. I can’t ask
someone to do that for me.”

“You see,” she said, inching just a little closer so the wide
hem of her dress brushed his legs. “That’s emotionally open and honest. That’s
what’s important. Not the details of a mission or the location of your next
raid.”

Frowning, he shook his head.

“I don’t think you heard me.”

“I did,” she promised. “I heard every word. But I responded to
what really mattered. I’m okay with the danger. That’s what my father was right
about. I grew up surrounded by hundreds, thousands of men who lived with that
danger. And most of those men are still around. You are specially trained to
deal with that part of your job.
That doesn’t mean
training eliminates the danger, or that horrible things won’t still happen. But
they happen anyway.”

“Like your kidnapping,” he said quietly.

“Exactly.”
Thank you, Father,
she
mentally sang, grateful that the admiral had laid the groundwork for that
argument. “But the secrets, the danger? If we can communicate, if we’re
emotionally honest, then we can work through any issues those things
create.”

He didn’t look as distant and closed now, but his blue eyes
were still cautious. Watchful. As though he knew there was a flaw in her
argument, but he just hadn’t found it yet.

Because he was so worried about a trap, Alexia stepped away.
Put some distance between them. Just because she’d reached a place where she
felt good about pursuing this relationship, where she’d justified it all in her
mind, that didn’t mean he had. Or that he would.

Fear clutched at her belly. Her breath tight, she tried to
remind herself that she’d faced death, dammit. This chasing down the man she
loved? Piece of cake.

She pressed her hand against her churning stomach. Okay, so
maybe more like an entire decadently rich, double-fudge-chocolate cake eaten in
its entirety in a single sitting. In other words, she felt like puking. But it’d
be worth it, she promised herself.

“I have a relationship with your father,” Blake said as if he
were laying another card on the table, slowly showing his hand one point at a
time. “He’s no longer active on base, but he was my mentor for years. He’ll
continue to have input into my career.”

Then he grimaced and added, “Unless he follows through on those
threats, of course. Then I’ll probably be stationed on Guam.”

“Ironically, I’m starting to think I might have a relationship
with my father, too,” she said, still not sure how she felt about that. “I doubt
it’ll ever be a close one, or even cordial. But I’m beginning to believe that
maybe it doesn’t have to be antagonistic and angry any longer.”

“Wow,” he breathed.

“I know,” she said with a laugh. “Look at me, all grown
up.”

His gaze skimmed her body, as if reminding them both of just
how grown up she was. Her blood heated, her breath slowed. She wanted him like
crazy, and dammit, they had to get through this issue and then dinner with her
parents before she could have him. So they’d better hurry up or she wouldn’t be
able to resist giving him a toe massage during the dessert course.

“If your job wasn’t an issue, if the danger and secrets didn’t
exist, would you want to be in a relationship with me?” she asked, putting it
all on the table. The questions, the opening, her heart. All there for him to
take or leave.

“They are an issue.”

“If they weren’t,” she insisted, giving him a
quit-being-stubborn
look.

“If they weren’t an issue,” he said slowly, so slowly she
wanted to scream at him to quit tormenting her, “I’d be begging you to go out
with me. I’d be doing my damndest to sweep you off your feet. I’d have you in
bed so fast, the sheets would catch fire.”

Relief, pleasure and excitement poured through Alexia, making
her want to grab him close for a hug, then dance around the room laughing.

“Then why are you making them an issue? I’ve made my peace with
them, so now it’s up to you. It’s not because of me that these things stand
between us.” There it was, the truth gauntlet. Tossed between them in challenge.
Now it was all up to him.

“I watched what it did to Phil’s family, saying goodbye to
him,” he said quietly, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her
want to cry. “I saw the devastation. How could you ask me to do that to
you?”

“There are no guarantees, Blake. All you can do is make every
day we have together one that I could treasure, in case something did happen.
Isn’t that all anyone can do?”

He frowned, looking as if he was turning her words over and
over in his mind. Trying to find the flaw, to figure out how to dismiss
them.

Alexia wanted to tell him to get over it already. To agree they
had a chance. She wanted to run from the room and hide, so she didn’t have to
face rejection. And mostly, she wanted to grab back the last eight months, to go
back to the time that he’d believed they had a chance. Before her fears had
fueled his, before she’d given him enough reason to believe that she wasn’t
strong enough to handle a future with him.