Ruined by the SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 2) (15 page)

She lifted her hips, tilting her pelvis to ease the stretch of him entering her body. Slow blinks and shuddering breaths passed between them as he searched her face. If he was looking for permission or explanation…well he had the former, and she didn’t have any clue about the latter.

Except there were those big feelings
again in her chest. Too big to name.
Four letter words are scary
. She almost said it out loud, but then he closed the gap between them and kissed her as he pressed home, stretching her wide.

This was different. And not just because they were making love skin on skin, in a bed. But their connection was deeper now. She’d shown him her fragile underbelly, her weaknesses, and he’d carefully scooped
her up and taken care of her.

His arms braced on either side of her head, he started to move them together as one, surging up and into her, then dragging back out, leaving her hollow and hungry for the next thrust.

He was a machine, his hips pushing deep, pistoning back again. He set a steady rhythm that made her see stars as he stroked against all those magically alive places inside her he’d
clearly memorized.

She cried out his name, then just sounds that approximated words—yes, oh, God, yes, there—as the desire twisted and coiled inside her, readying for a final countdown.

But Mick wasn’t in a hurry. He slowed down, keeping her right at that out-of-her-mind pre-orgasm state. How was it possible to feel this good from the inside of your body? And how was he not out of his mind already?

She nipped at his jaw and licked down his neck. Dug her nails into his back and her heels into his fine, sculpted ass. And still he gave her that half-lidded, in-control look.

He was good at that. Putting up that wall. But she’d seen the other look in the living room. The one that said he wanted her so much it hurt. She knew the feeling. And she wanted to know that they were both feeling it,
now, as she started to climb toward what felt like the highest mountain peak in the world.

She reached between them, stroking first his chest, then her own. He liked that. His gaze followed her hand as she squeezed her breast, then trailed her fingertips up to her mouth.

But it was when she twisted her hair around her hand and lay back, surrendering to his onslaught, that he lost the edge of
his control. And then brick by sexy brick, it all fell away, until he was holding her down and fucking her so hard she could barely breath from the overwhelming pleasure of it.

Yes
, she screamed in her head.
Yes.

When she exploded, he came with her, filling her up.

He stayed there, buried deep, until her heart rate returned to normal. When he moved to shift away, she tangled her fingers in
his. “Stay.”

His grin was quick and easy. “Okay.”

She snuggled right into him and nearly drifted off, but she needed to put her hair up if she was going to look presentable the next day without an hour of styling time.

“What?” he mumbled. She wasn’t the only one who’d slipped into drowsy post-sex mode.

“I have to do my hair,” she whispered.

“I love your hair. It’s perfect.”

She laughed.
“It’ll be awful in the morning if I don’t put it up.”

He gave her a weird look. “Did you do that when you were staying in the tent?”

“No.” She blushed. “You saw the wild child version of me, I guess.”

“I like both sides.” He kissed her cheek. “Can I watch?”

Her cheeks grew hotter. “Me do my hair?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re weird.”

“And you’re fascinating.”

“Sure, I guess.”

He followed her into
the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, talking about nothing and everything while she sectioned off her curls, treated the ends with a coconut oil and shea butter mixture Daphne made her, then twisted them into loose, braided mini buns and pinned them in place.

Mick was mid-sentence, telling her about his preferred mountain climbing gear of all the random things, when he trailed off.

“What?” she asked around a mouthful of bobby pins.

“Any chance I could get you to wear a gold bikini?”

She laughed and all the bobby pins bounced into the sink. “Princess Leia fantasy?”

“You didn’t see that coming?”

She wiped her eyes. Oh good Lord. What a typical man. She pressed her lips together. It just so happened that she did have a gold bikini tucked in her dresser. “I’ll see what I
can do.”

He gave her a pleased wink and she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Now let me finish this, and then…” she sighed. “I really do have to get to bed.”

“I know.” He reached out and caught her back the nape of her neck, and slowly tugged her toward him. Her hair half-up, the rest flying sideways, she must look awful. But he only had eyes for
her
, not her hair or anything else, as he kissed
her softly. “I’ll get going.”

“No,” she said quickly. “Stay. Tonight. We’ll say goodbye in the morning.”

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“Deal. And then I’m going to get out of your hair for a bit, for real. I’ve got a friend in the Florida Keys. Finn. They have a canine training facility and we might have them involved in our executive retreats at some point, so…”

“You’re leaving?”

“Just for a
couple days.” He brushed his lips against hers. “But I like the way you worry about that.”

She thumped him lightly on the chest, then hugged him tight. “One week. That’s all I need.”

“Good. It’s probably all I could give you.”

SIXTEEN

S
INCE SHE WAS ADAMANT ABOUT NOT WANTING ANY HELP,
Mick kissed Cara goodbye and watched her drive off the next morning, knowing he wouldn’t see her for a week. He wasn’t even going back to the estate to pack his bag. He had his passport and his wallet. He didn’t need anything else—except a plane ticket to Florida.

His first stop of the day was the internet cafe. He needed to book a
flight and send a couple of long emails.

When he arrived, the only other customers were two teenagers gaming at the back of the shop, but as he was getting a second cup of the truly excellent coffee, the door chimed and in walked a pretty, curvy woman with chunky blonde hair—a woman he might not have noticed quite so much if she hadn’t stopped and stared at him.

He lifted his cup in greeting
and sat back down at his computer.

In his peripheral vision, he saw her move slowly to the counter, then lean with her back against it. Watching him.

He wasn’t surprised in the least when, after she got her own cup of coffee, she sat down across from him.

“You’re Mick,” she said.

“I am.”

“I’m Daphne.”

Ah. One of the friends. “Nice to meet you.”

“Is it?” She arched one eyebrow.

He resisted
the urge to laugh. “Sure. Any friend of Cara’s is a friend of mine.”

“I don’t trust you.” She crossed her arms.

He shrugged. “That’s fair. You don’t know me.”

“You seem slick.”

“I’m anything but. You want slick, you want my friend Will. Now he’s—”

“Are you going to steal the plantation and break Cara’s heart?”

He took a sip of coffee as he appraised her. She was awfully pissed off for so
early in the morning. And he had no clue what she knew—and it wasn’t his place to really fill in the gaps. Except for the second point. “I’m going to do my damnedest not to hurt Cara, and she knows that.”

“What about the plantation?”

“That’s complicated, and entirely out of my control.”

An uncertain look flickered across her face. “That sounds like a line, I gotta say.”

He shrugged again.
“I can’t do much about that. It’s not a line. I’m just a guy who was sent here to get construction permits.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Not well, thanks for asking,” he said dryly as he leaned back in his chair. Clearly he wasn’t getting back to his emails any time soon.

“So what are your intentions toward my best friend?”

No more glib answers. Not to that question. He considered it thoughtfully,
because this was important to get right. Other than Cara’s mother, all she had in this world was the bond with her friends. This woman was, for all intents and purposes, her sister.

On the other hand… “Cara and I haven’t had this conversation yet.”

“I can keep a secret.”

He snorted. “Okay.”

“No.” Daphne set her cup down and leaned forward over the empty half of the table. “Really. I just…she’s
not tough. Not in matters of the heart. She doesn’t have a lot of experience. And if you’re using her—”

Jesus. “I’m not. I swear to you, Crazy Blonde Girl, I’m not going to hurt her. I already told you that.”

“The name is Daphne.”

“Crazy Blonde Girl seems to fit at the moment. Did you follow me here from her place this morning?”

She blinked at him. “You stayed at her place?”

“Nice innocent
routine.”

She scowled. “I really just came here to get online. I live on a boat. No wi-fi.”

“Likely story.”

“Whatever.”

Had he really gotten in a snapping match with one of Cara’s best friends? He took a deep breath and tried again. “Okay… Daphne. What can I say here to convince you I’m really just a guy, sitting an internet cafe, trying to book a plane ticket to Florida? Not plotting any
evil seduction plans to ruin your friend’s life.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m coming back.”

Doubt practically dripped off her as she shifted in her chair. “Tell me you understand how important the island’s history is to Cara.”

“I do. That’s why I’m getting out of her hair for a little bit. We’re…We may have just met, but I have strong feelings for her. And that’s a distraction she doesn’t need
right now.”

“Why?”

He winced. “That’s for her to tell you. But she’s got a lot to do the next few days.”

Daphne shoved back from the table. She couldn’t be more than a few inches over five feet, but she still looked fierce. “What happened?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Yet.”

She spun on her heel and ran out the door, and Mick closed his eyes with a groan. Not the right impression to make
on her best friend. Not by a long shot. And now he had no doubt she was going to run out to Villa Sucre and do exactly what Mick had promised Cara
he
wouldn’t do: get in her way.

~

“S
O
…”

Cara turned around at the sound of her friend’s voice behind her. Daphne stood in the doorway of the ballroom.

“Hey. So….what?”

“So what the heck is going on?”

Cara shook her head, only half paying
attention to her friend. She needed to itemize all the rare and historic elements used in the construction of this room. The original twelve-panel sash windows on the east-facing wall, for example—how many buildings on the island had those? “Ummm…” She stuck her pencil between her teeth and crouched down to look at the masonry around the fireplace. She hadn’t had this assessed yet, but it might be
original. She’d find a way to write that up, too.

“Cara!”

“What?” She stood and turned around. “Sorry, Daph, I’m just in the middle of something. Hi.”

“What are you in the middle of?”

So ignoring the question wasn’t going to work. “I’m making a report about the property for the board of directors.”

Daphne frowned. “In the middle of the project?”

Cara sighed. “It’s not the middle of anything
anymore. The gift of the property has been called into question, and it doesn’t look like we’ll be getting it back any time soon.”

“That rat,” Daphne growled. “That lying asshole. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

“What rat? Who’s an asshole?”

“Your…the…that usurper. The tall one with the muscles.” Daphne’s mouth twisted like she couldn’t bring herself to say Mick’s name.

Cara didn’t have that same
problem. She laughed gently. “You mean Mick? He didn’t do this.”

“What do you mean? I just left him at the internet cafe. He practically admitted he was involved with something.”

She shook her head. “Me, you ninny. He’s involved with
me
. And he’s just as affected by this new development as I am, unfortunately. No, the rats in this situation would be the members of my board.”

Last night, Cara
had been upset. This morning? She was pissed. Yesterday’s board meeting had gone so badly because in small part she’d overreacted to their criticism, but mostly because everyone was blaming her for something that was entirely outside her control.
 

They’d all acted on good faith when they’d received the letter months earlier from Mrs. Parry’s attorneys. They’d even filed the ownership with the
land registry office. Technically, Villa Sucre now belonged to the Historical Society, and it didn’t matter what a court in New York City said.

Except for the legal battle the Society couldn’t afford if a plane full of lawyers showed up here.

“You have the sourest look on your face right now,” Daphne said as she came closer and tried to look at Cara’s clipboard.

Cara snatched it against her
chest just to be mean. “Stop being nosy.”

“You’re keeping secrets. I don’t like it.”

“You just don’t like being in the dark,” Cara laughed.

“Exactly. Spill, spill, spill.”

So Cara spilled. She told Daphne about the board meeting, about the two wills, about her and Mick. She talked and talked until Daphne knew everything and as she unloaded all the drama of the week, her anger, which had been
simmering, turned into a full-fledged rage.

“This is fucking bullshit, isn’t it?”

Daphne nodded. “One hundred percent.”

“But we don’t have that lawyer that we need on the board. And what can I do? Tell them they’re all full of hot air and nonsense?”

Another nod.

“No.” Cara frowned. “I can’t do that. Why are you still nodding?”

“Because that’s—”

Cara gasped. “That’s exactly what I should
do.”

“—Exactly what you should do. Yes.” Daphne gave her an amused look. “I’m glad I could help.”

“Shush, I’m thinking.” Cara tapped her pencil on her clipboard as she started to pace. “I need a killer report. Like, whoa. And I need to give them an ultimatum. My way or the highway.”