Daring Her SEAL (10 page)

Not that she'd seemed to mind.

He leaned forward and nipped her ear. “You remember the Best Ride?”

Shoot. Was he a girl? Why was he bringing up old memories when he had Ashley riding his lap?

She swung around so she was seated facing him. Kind of tucked up on his lap. “The biker bar outside Sacramento?”

“Uh-huh. That was good.” And again with the Mr. Smooth comments.

She was silent so long that he figured she was pleading the Fifth. Not that he believed their first kiss had sucked. If it had, she would have told him. And then followed up her assessment with a point-by-point critique of where and how he could have improved.

“You got pretty handsy then, too,” she said eventually, as if she was thinking something through. He had some thoughts of his own.

“We'll go back to the villa. Forget the stupid bet.”

“Are you conceding?”

Honestly? He had no idea what he was doing other than losing himself in the moment. In Ashley.

“Does conceding get you in my arms?” Because he'd skywrite his concession if that was the case.

“I've got a penis rule you should be aware of,” she said, instead of answering his question.

“Uh-huh.” As long as one penis was enough for her, he could work around her rule, whatever it was. Plus he was the king of rule-breaking and they both knew it.

“Never introduce a penis to the workplace. Peens complicate matters.”

“We're not working,” he felt compelled to point out. A little more desperately than he would have liked.

She sighed. “But we've been coworkers and we might be again.”

Her forehead rested against his shoulder. He wanted the panties off and nothing at all between them. Instead, Ashley gave him a quick, hard buss on the cheek, swung herself off his lap and stood up. Her dress fell back into place, and she looked fucking gorgeous.

She patted him on the shoulder. “Let me know when you're ready to concede, sailor.”

Jesus Christ. He needed to rethink his strategy.

7

M
AYBE
SHE
'
D
BEEN
a little too adamant last night. She'd pushed him. Teased him. Got him all hot and bothered. But that had been the point of their game, hadn't it? So when she woke up, she half expected to find Levi in bed with her. Half expected, half hoped...and that was completely, one hundred percent messed up. She didn't even like the guy, she reminded herself. She'd left him high and dry in the bar, and he'd been every bit as turned on as she'd been.

Funny, how they'd spent the last year fighting and taking verbal potshots at each other, when maybe what they'd really needed to do was spend more time kissing. They had some serious, off-the-charts chemistry. Nonetheless, sleeping with her sometime teammate wasn't the best idea, and besides, she suspected Levi didn't know how to do anything
but
take charge in bed and she'd always avoided that kind of guy.

Regardless of how he felt about her leaving him alone with his impressive erection, he'd been back to the villa. She knew this because when she turned her head, she spotted the note next to her pillow. The paper had been torn from a pad of hotel stationery and folded into an intricate origami boat. She squinted. Or maybe it was a party hat. It was actually kind of hard to tell, although she had no doubts about the sender.

Levi had been in their room again.

Read me
the side of the boat nearest her declared. She tried to imagine Levi sitting there in their room writing her a note and folding it into a little paper boat, but apparently her imagination wasn't that good. When she unfolded the boat and smoothed the paper out, she bit back a smile.
If you want your panties back, meet me on the beach at seventeen-hundred hours
. No one could ever accuse Levi of being subtle.

Was she seriously thinking about participating in a panty hostage exchange? Apparently, by the way her heart was thudding wildly in her chest, that would be a yes. Or maybe it had more to do with the SEAL holding her underwear prisoner. She knew he was just having fun with her and making the best of an uncomfortable situation, but she wasn't sure exactly how far he was willing to go. And was she
really
thinking about sleeping with him?

Not that sleeping had much of anything to do with her current thoughts.

She got up and headed for the bathroom. Might as well enjoy her luxury five-star accommodations while she had them. There, she found that Levi was more insightful than she'd given him credit for, because he'd apparently anticipated her ambivalence about his invitation. He'd marooned a second paper boat by the sink on the small coconut-scented bar of hotel soap. The boat's name was the
Think About It
.

The third boat sailed across the bikini top she'd draped over the side of the tub. She didn't even need to unfold it to read the words he'd scrawled across the paper.
Swimsuits optional
. She snorted. In his dreams.

And, yeah, naturally, he'd stuck one on the roll of toilet paper. God. What was it with men and bathroom jokes? She squinted at the small boat. Levi might be one hell of a SEAL, but he was no artist. The two stick figures were obvious, although she had her doubts about what the boy stick was doing. The rest of the drawing...yeah. No clue. Waves? Seagulls? A tsunami smashing into a coconut grove? She'd have to ask him when she saw him.

Fortunately, there was no one around to see the stupid grin she was sporting. Levi was actually kind of cute, when he wasn't trying to be annoying. And it wasn't as though she had other plans for the day. She'd check for messages from the wedding coordinator and maybe swing by the front desk. See if they had any updates from the minister or the Registry Office. Other than that...

She was a free woman with a beach date later on. She smiled every time she caught sight of Levi's origami boats, which was often enough to slow down her productivity. Still, she managed to work her way through several case reviews, and check the Google alert she'd set up about the corruption hearing.

One of the online Hollywood gossip sites had been offered photos by a party guest, and the fallout looked to be brutal. The pictures showed the agents cavorting around an expensive pool in various stages of undress. Thank God her wedding bikini pics hadn't leaked, because she would have been tarred with the same brush. She hadn't come up with any magic responses for the imaginary questions she'd posed herself from the hearing board, but she felt better prepared and that counted for something.

When she finally knocked off for the day and headed for the beach to meet Levi, he was finishing up some kind of PT routine. Muscles flexed as he dropped to the sand in a one-armed push-up before shoving upward again in one brutal move. Hooyah, indeed. Flopping onto a nearby beach bed, she settled in to enjoy the show.

Her “husband” and she might not be on speaking terms most of the time, but she wasn't blind. Levi was an impressive specimen, from the dog tags that hung from his neck to the corded muscles of his back. His shorts rode low on his hips, revealing the band of his underwear. Every inch of him was tight, rock hard and sexy, and she itched to touch him.

No touching
.

He might have a pretty impressive package, but he was still the same obnoxious man he'd always been. As soon as he opened his mouth and stopped doing that
thing
with his muscles, she'd remember why she didn't want anything to do with.

Uh-huh. And pigs would fly. Levi continued to rip through his workout, and she continued to stare. Her interested gaze probably wasn't sending the right message to him at all, she realized. He'd think he'd won their bet and infiltrated her defenses, and that simply wasn't true. Last night had been a mistake on her part. She'd lost. He'd won. Today was just one more move in their silly, meaningless game.

And yet being parked on the sand next to Levi was strangely exciting. She'd never been one for downtime or playing sand lizard in the sun, but Levi was actually good company. Sure, she spent at least half her time with him wanting to groan at some particularly crass thing he'd said, but the rest of the time he was kind of fun. Not that she had any intention of telling him that. She didn't need the man getting ideas about her sexual availability or about the long-term viability of their marriage.

Rolling over on her stomach, she forced herself to stare out at the lagoon rather than the gorgeous SEAL scenery. Not that he would get ideas. She could honestly say that she was probably the
last
woman Levi would consider dating, and he'd already said he had no desire to get married. To anyone. She wasn't going to figure the man out today, so she decided to just admire the view.

The lagoon was spectacular, the water a perfect aqua she usually only saw on postcards and paint chips. She'd painted her home office almost precisely that color. Or tried to. Aegean Blue from a can wasn't quite the same as the Caribbean real deal. Just to prove the point, the sun's rays bounced off the bright blue of the water, almost blinding her as she rolled over again. Much more time out here and she'd resemble a spit-roasted chicken. A big hand dropped her sunglasses onto her face.

“Don't go blind.”

The man might move like a ninja but he sounded like a ninety-year-old grandma. “Concerned, husband?” she asked before she could stop herself. She knew she sounded cranky, but Levi's perpetual good mood was starting to wear thin. Did nothing bother the man?

“I can't look out for you?” He hunkered down by her side, digging an ice bucket of miniature Coronas into the sand. Darn it. Now she felt like a heel, because while she'd been sitting her mentally bitching him out, he'd been fetching beverages. A thank-you was probably in order.

She shifted to make room for him, dropping her legs over the edge of the lounger until her toes were buried in the sun-warmed sand. It wasn't as if she had too many days with her toes dug into the sand when she was in the office, so she should enjoy. Levi settled in beside her, clearly in no rush to be anywhere. Huh. She mentally scrambled for something to say, but came up blank. They'd worked together, traded a few jokes, and swapped more insults. Other than that, she knew almost nothing about Levi.

Maybe she could have been a little nicer to him, because he stared at the lagoon, his eyes tracking a stand-up paddleboarder way out in the middle of the water. The boarder was a blonde rocking a white bikini. Despite her picture-perfect looks, her board skills sucked—she wobbled like it was a Bosu ball and she'd decided to give her core a workout. Periodically, she stabbed at the water with her paddle.

Ashley had to give the woman props. Although she'd forgone a life jacket—which wasn't her smartest move—she filled out a swimsuit well. The white bikini showcased two long tanned legs and boobs the size of personal watermelons. Exactly Levi's type.

“See something you like?” God. Please don't let her sound bitchy. Married or not, what Levi did was absolutely, positively none of her business. The possessive feeling was a revelation she could have done without. Levi wasn't hers.

He frowned. “She's not too good at that.”

Um. No. But Ashley was certain the woman had other, compensatory skills. To prove Levi's point, the woman fell off the board. It was kind of satisfying to see all that perfect hair get wet. She bobbed up like a cork, too, possibly because those melons of hers weren't natural. Kind of like having your own personal built-in flotation device.

“She's determined.” Ashley had to give her that. The woman pulled herself back onto the board, stood up with another marked wobble and promptly fell off again.

Levi frowned. “Yeah, but she'll be in the current soon.”

The woman regained the board, stood up—and fell off. Okay. The first time had been kind of funny, but the woman was drifting closer and closer to the sea. If she wasn't at risk yet, she would be soon. A quick look around the beach showed that it was just Levi and her. No lifeguard, no concerned male companion.
Nada
. Once the woman breeched the reef, she wouldn't be getting back inside easily—and she
definitely
shouldn't be out there alone and without a life jacket.

“She's in trouble. I'm gonna go get her.” Before she could respond—although she did
not
think Lieutenant Levi Brandon was remotely interested in her commentary—her SEAL shoved to his feet and headed across the sand at a dead run. His big body cutting through the air and water was a thing of beauty. Kind of like watching a machine. He pulled himself through the water swiftly with hard, sure strokes. She'd been on two missions with the SEAL team, but both had involved undercover work—and she'd been kept out of any combat. When the SEAL team had assaulted a drug dealer's compound on their last trip to Fantasy Island, she'd been left behind on the island to play bodyguard to Maddie Holmes.

Watching Levi swim was a revelation. He knifed through the water fast and hard, head down, hips low in the water as he closed the distance in a perfect crawl.

When he reached the woman clinging to the paddleboard, she glued herself to his shoulders as though he was the Navy, God, and the second coming rolled into one. Ashley was too far away to hear their conversation or read the woman's lips, but a whole lot of head nodding seemed to be involved. Even from two hundred yards away, treading water, Levi radiated calm confidence. It figured he'd be good at rescuing damsels in distress. A few seconds later, he lifted the blonde onto her board and started towing her in.

As soon as he hit waist-deep water, he stood, scooping the woman up in his arms. If the paddleboarder's situation hadn't been closer to life or death than Ashley liked, she would have whipped out her camera because, hello, sexy SEAL. Muscles bunched as he lifted the woman clear from harm, water pouring off him as he made for the sand.

Grabbing their towels, Ashley sprinted toward them. The lack of a lifeguard on duty wasn't atypical for resorts, but what would have happened to the woman if she and Levi hadn't been on the beach? Maybe nothing. Maybe she would have made her way back to shore. Blondie had her head on Levi's chest and her arms linked in a death grip around his neck. A spark of something that felt irrationally like jealousy shot through Ashley. That was
her
neck. Shoving the unwanted feeling away, she dropped a towel around the woman. Blondie gave Ashley a wry look.

“One minute I was ten yards from shore. The next minute, it seems like I'm a hundred yards and headed for Cuba.”

Okay, Cuba was a stretch. Outside the reef and in open ocean, however, had definitely been on the cards.

“Thank God for your husband,” the woman continued with a grateful smile. “You've got a good one there. Are you newlyweds?”

“He's—” Not mine? She patted the woman's shoulder. She'd used plenty of words to describe Levi. SEAL. Determined. Arrogant. Pain in her butt. They weren't inaccurate, but she'd never thought of him as anything—anyone—more. Like
husband
.

Mine
.

“He's glad he could help,” Levi said, filling in the sudden silence. “Let's get you back to your villa.”

* * *

C
OVERT
OPS
WERE
a hell of a lot easier than rescuing hotel guests. Levi shifted the woman effortlessly to one arm, wrapping her up in the towel Ashley handed over. This wasn't his usual gig. Blow in, blow things up, blow off a little steam. The three Bs—those were his areas of expertise. But his rescuee had twined her arms around his neck in a death grip that got progressively tighter as the reality of her situation hit her. All too familiar himself with delayed reaction syndrome, he figured he could hold on to her a little longer while she got her shit together. A quick scan of the beach turned up no concerned boyfriend, husband or even another living, breathing person. Which, given how close the woman in his arms had come to wearing herself out and drowning, was probably not something he should say out loud.