Code Name: Ghost (A Warrior's Challenge 1) (10 page)

“I just made a command decision.”

She raised a brow at him. “Dinner in La
Jolla?” she asked.

He cocked his head without looking at her.
“Dinner, yes, La Jolla—no.”

* * * *

People swarmed the sidewalks in front of
little shops filled with bikinis and T-shirts, knickknack stores
and an ice cream shop. “I love this place,” she said, turning on
the sidewalk to see it all. It was so quaint, the red peaked roofs
reminding her of a scene from the Nantucket coast.

Offering another rare smile, he said, “I
thought you might.” He placed a guiding but gentle hand on her
back, and steered her toward a restaurant, where he asked for a
table overlooking the ocean.

Red and white checkered cloths adorned each
table, and a glass wall hindered the wind, but not the view. They
followed the host, who seated them at the last available table
closest to the water. Fun energy pulsated in the little tourist
area known as Ferry Landing. A warm and friendly atmosphere with a
mix of people from old timers to young couples strolled by. “This
would be perfect. What do you think the chances are of a condo
being available around here?”

“Let’s find out.” He pulled his cell and sat
back in his chair. “Hey, Don. Yeah, all’s well, how’s Casey and the
girls?” He paused. “She’s walking? Ah, that’s great, man. That’s
good to hear. Listen I have a…a woman I know who’s transferred
here. She’s lookin’ for a place, and she likes the Landing.” He
paused again. “Uh-huh. She’s in the market for a condo, maybe two
bedrooms, oceanfront for certain, big balcony,” he explained,
giving her a wink. “Sure, I don’t think she’d mind that at all,
we’ll be done in an hour. We’re at the Italian place in the
Landing. All right, see ya then.” He laid the phone down on the
table.

A wink? He’d just winked at her. Maybe this
was Commander Austen’s twin brother with a soul, because the one
she’d known up until now certainly wasn’t this human. All he’d ever
offered her was a critical eye. “He’s coming now, seriously?”

“Don’s an old friend. We’ve known each other
since grade school. He did okay becoming a realtor,” he said,
picking up his fork. “He usually caters to the higher end of the
food chain, but he thinks he has something you’ll like.”

She wanted to lunge across the table and she
practically did, but stopped herself, remembering who she was with.
“That’s incredible, thank you so much.”

He cleared his throat and gazed at her with
those unbelievable eyes. “You’re welcome.”

Turning her attention to her meal, the
fattest prawns she’d ever seen lay over a bed of creamy pasta. Why
the hell didn’t she have a salad, remembering the way she’d
unplugged her butt from the cabinet on the patrol vessel. Then
again, it didn’t really matter how age decided to spread her fanny.
No one was looking at it. She twirled the strands around her fork.
“When will you deploy again?”

“Don’t know, could be tonight,” he said, as
he sawed a piece off his steak. “We always have to be ready.”

“You’re always anticipating. How do the men
ever relax?”

“They have their moments, but it isn’t easy
on any relationship.”

Whoa, he’d jumped a large crevasse from the
men’s downtime to challenges of being involved with a SEAL. That’s
not what she was intimating, and she hoped he hadn’t taken it that
way. Wanting to steer clear of the topic, she looked around for
something to focus on, but what she noticed was who focused on
them—or him would be more to the point. Women, plenty of them,
either darted glances their way or simply gawked at the Commander.
She darted a look herself and her heart stopped mid-beat.

“Is there something wrong, Ms. Banks?” The
Commander’s eyes fixed on her. She gripped the collar of her light
sweater and covered the low-cut tank top she’d chosen for the warm
day. “No, sir.”

* * * *

Watching her lips slide over the fork dazed
him. How the hell could eating spun pasta look so damn erotic?
Concentrate on the conversation, SEAL.
She peppered him with
questions about the base and SPECWAROPS, and he answered without
holding back a thing. He could never do that with another woman,
always coming up with some bullshit lie about what he did for a
living. It was common stock to do as a SEAL—company policy. Maybe
it was because she was one of them—kind of, but she was still a
mystery to him.

Kayla had proven herself in the short time
he’d been home. Both her work ethic and knowledge of special
tactical ops were above average, obviously her experience played
into that. The better he knew his men and now woman, the more he
could rely on them…her. The excuse forged a slippery hold in his
mind. He needed something, because every time his mind wandered, it
wandered to the woman sitting across from him. He couldn’t believe
she was here—with him.

He’d scanned the Base Command’s schedule
more than a few times since coming home from deployment and finding
Kayla under his roof. Worst of all, Red had caught him looking at
it last week. He never picked it up and Red knew it.

Quickly, he offered an excuse, saying he was
setting up their next in-house exercise, and wondered who would be
working in Command that day. Red knew he was full of shit, and
pushed him, asking if he wanted someone in particular. It was a
cardinal sin to lie to a SEAL brother, but he’d done it, for the
second time in five seconds.

This morning, standing in his kitchen
sipping on his first coffee, he’d leaned toward his fridge. At
least he’d lasted a week before photocopying her schedule and
tacking it there.

Daylight gave way to dusk, and a candle
flickered between them. The warm breeze played with the tablecloth
and the ends of her hair. The sounds of the restaurant became a
background hum. Everything blurred except her. SEALs didn’t lose
their concentration. At least he didn’t—normally.

Kayla lifted her glass, and the ruby red
wine slid down her sleek throat. A very kissable throat, one he’d
thought more than once about grazing his teeth against, from jaw to
the beating pulse in her neck. The hint of olive in her skin lured
a raw need, and his mind grew fingers, tracing a path over the
swell of ample breasts that could occupy him for hours. Could—but
never would, yet it didn’t stop his imagination from seeking out
and exploring her body.
This was totally wrong, and he had to
get a grip.

She plucked up a plump prawn and sucked it
slowly between her lips. Entranced, he watched her lick away a
dollop of cream caught on the supple flesh of her mouth. Time
slowed down, and mirrored the rhythm of his pulse with heavy
thumps. The walls he’d built around himself cracked like sheets of
ice breaking off and cascading into the sea.

Why the hell was he sitting here with
her? He should have dropped her off as she’d suggested, and floored
his gas pedal to the mat
.

“Thane?”

He hadn’t noticed the woman who stood a
couple inches away from him.

He blinked. “Leanne, hey!”

Leanne’s head tilted and a bundle of blonde
curls fell over her shoulder. Leanne was a New Zealand knockout.
She didn’t hesitate, and leaned over brushing his arm with a very
ample set of breasts he’d palmed a couple times, and kissed
him.

“Hi, baby. Where have you been hiding?” she
asked.

He darted a look toward Kayla. She’d stopped
eating and a pleasant smile curved her lips, but it wasn’t her
smile that bothered him—it was her eyes—interested, analyzing, but
there wasn’t an ounce of agitation. The silence strained on for a
little too long while he searched for something negative—anything.
“Kayla, this is Leanne. Her brother is in SEAL Team Five.” Stupid
thing to say since Leanne wasn’t being shy about giving him signals
and Kayla was an intelligent woman.

Kayla offered a friendly smile. “Hi, Leanne,
nice to meet you.”

Leanne barely brushed a glance her way. “So,
when am I going to see you again? We had so much fun last time,”
she teased, quirking her brow.

“Sorry, I’m heading out soon.”

Women were a great distraction, and ones
like Leanne whiled away a few sweaty hours with a lot of
satisfaction, but he’d learned long ago hanging around and making
too many repeat performances just got him into shit. He offered
Leanne a wink and a smile that usually worked to send her on her
happy way.

Leanne’s lips formed a pout and her
brilliant blues begged for other things. “Well, you know my number.
I’m on my way home now, actually. Drop by—later.” She twirled a
curl around her finger and pulled up her shoulder into a little
shrug.

It amazed the hell out of him how brazen and
nasty women could be to each other. Embarrassed at Leanne’s
rudeness, he turned to Kayla, but she wasn’t showing a single sign
of jealousy, and it friggin’ bothered him.

“See ya later—baby,” Leanne said, and
brushed her fingers across his shoulder as she turned to leave.

“So, you do have a mission coming up?” Kayla
asked, concentrating on her fork as she swirled the strands.

For a split second, he thought about a
nefarious response and then remembered who he was with. “No, I
don’t, actually.” He darted a look across their little table at
her.

Kayla’s gaze popped to his.

Great, now she’d think he was a louse for
lying. Being a SEAL came with an arm’s length of attributes,
honesty being one of them, and he usually was. Telling Leanne he
wasn’t interested in a hookup in front of Kayla would have been an
asshat thing to do. He’d probably screwed half the single women in
Coronado and a healthy percentage in San Diego. He liked women, so
sue him, but taking on a boatload of commitment with one woman was
never going to happen. “We didn’t really click.”

To Kayla’s credit, she said nothing, and
reached for her wine. He would have bet a fleet of ships her
response would be,
“She seemed to think you did.”

Nothing. Maybe it was a delayed reaction,
and he waited.

“What?” she asked, reading his
expression.

Who the hell was this woman anyway?
Why didn’t she care about the blonde oozing over him? Maybe she
wasn’t attracted to him.
Why not?
The more important
question was why he was having a one-sided debate about this. He
cleared his throat. “How’s your dinner?”

She nodded. “It’s very good. How’s
yours?”

Sawing off a piece of his steak, and
piercing a mushroom, he stretched his fork out to her. “Try
it.”

His soul melted into a puddle when she swept
the piece of meat from his offered hand.
Shit!
An argument
in his mind ensued, accusing him of doing it with purpose. Her
beautiful, full lips cleaned his fork and he knew the next mouth on
his cutlery would be his. He swallowed heavily. He couldn’t kiss
her. Couldn’t touch her, but holy hell he wanted inside her.

“Ooh, that’s seriously good, isn’t it?” she
said swallowing. “Here, try some.”

He watched her twirl her fork and his entire
body twisted as if it were him in the tines, and then grew
unbelievably cold when she pushed her offering onto the edge of his
plate. What did he expect? Kayla was a straight up, no-nonsense
woman. Fully aware she was a “one of” in Base Command. He’d
practically threatened her by telling her she’d have to prove
herself. He’d set the height of the wall he expected her to jump
over. Nothing would make her veer from a strict code of
conduct.

“Commander, I’m fine waiting for Don. If
you’d like to visit with your friend…,” she suggested openly
without a single hint of angst.

He gave himself the hardest internal kick in
the ass he could, but it didn’t stop him from being one, and he
gently caught her wrist. “No, Kayla, please.” His mouth went dry
and his mind blank, peering into her eyes, the warmest feeling he’d
ever known filled him, when she looked back into his. If a waiter
interrupted them with an obligatory,
“How’s your meal?”
he
might have to kill him. There should be a button—one that could
stop the world from turning or another second from advancing,
because this is where he wanted to stay for the rest of his days.
“I apologize for that. We—”

She gave him the warmest smile. “No apology
or explanation is required, sir.”

Sir—that’s what he was to her, just another
officer, a guy in a uniform, and she wasn’t impressed like so many
women were. So what did impress her? He wanted to know. No—he had
to know.

The expressions on her face, the fullness of
her lips, her high cheekbones, and beautiful eyes had the damn
yearning inside him growing to zipper-busting proportions. She was
hands-off and always would be. With more than simple disappointment
weighing in his chest, he knew after this evening he could never
put himself in this situation with her again.

Hell, where was Don anyway?

When the Commander’s friend Don arrived,
Kayla liked him right away. He had an all-together, take-charge
kind of aura without being pushy. The Commander and Don looked like
brothers, tall, blond, although Don had longer hair, and they both
took very good care of themselves physically.

Don led them a block from the restaurant,
then stopped in front of a beautiful four-story unit. “This is the
place,” he said.

The California stucco painted in bright
yellow with floral sweeps in an ocean blue made the place scream
“live here.” A lush, manicured garden and palm trees dotting the
front lawn looked gloriously Californian. Every unit had a huge
balcony, offering an expansive view across the walkway toward the
ocean.

“First impressions, Kayla?” Don asked,
opening a file and giving her a sheet of paper with the specs on
it.

“I think I’m in love,” she drawled.