Czytaj książkę: «A SEAL's Pleasure»

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

Extract

Copyright

1

CHIEF PETTY OFFICER Gabriel Thorne had yet to find a challenge he couldn’t meet, beat or defeat.

And today’s game was no different.

Ignoring the noise, the intense stares and the heavy expectations, he assessed the field, making note of all of his options even as his mind calculated risks and probabilities. There were three easy shots, ones that would assure him an advance. But Gabriel had no need for easy.

A quick glance at the clock assured him that he did have a need for speed, though.

He leaned over the pool table, slid the cue between his fingers and, in a practiced move, placed a machine-gun shot right in the center of the waiting balls, sending them all flying home to clear the table.

“And that’s how it’s done,” he told his scowling opponent.

Gabriel easily read the fury in the guy’s face, but kept his grin in check while the other man yanked his wallet from his slacks pocket.

“Another round,” insisted Jase Jeglinski—otherwise known as Jackrabbit to the SEAL team.

“Another time.” Gabriel tilted his chin toward the billiard-ball-shaped clock on the wall, ignoring the mutinous set of Jackrabbit’s jaw and the guy’s clenched fists.

Even if he’d let one fly, Gabriel would have reacted with the same easy disregard. Because there was nothing Jackrabbit could dish out that Gabriel couldn’t take.

The easy confidence he’d been born with had been carefully honed to a razor-sharp edge in his years in the military.

“Dude, do you ever lose?” another of the men surrounding them asked in awe.

“Romeo? Never.” Scavenger laughed as he collected his own winnings from the other three men. “I warned you not to bet against him.”

Gabriel shook his head. Leave it to Scavenger—aka Petty Officer Shane O’Brian to anyone not on the SEAL team—to make sure the odds were as even and fair as possible. Sooner or later, he’d learn that it didn’t matter what he did—life just wasn’t gonna turn out fair. But Gabriel figured it was his job to watch his buddy’s back, not to offer up that particular lesson.

“You keep him around to carry your ego?” Jackrabbit asked with a laugh that held no amusement as Scavenger expanded his praise to include Gabriel’s legendary success with the ladies.

“Nah. I keep him around because he can turn a tin can, a pile of sand and a couple of rocks into a tactical communications device that will get our ass out from behind enemy lines,” Gabriel retorted, only half joking since he was sure the communications specialist could do just that.

He ignored Jackrabbit’s skeptical snort because he understood it. A SEAL team wasn’t a team simply because the group of men had been assigned together. They had to work together and prove themselves to establish real trust.

Gabriel, or Romeo as he was more often referred to, Scavenger and their pal Irish, aka Mitch Donovan, had been reassigned from Virginia to the West Coast less than seven months ago and had been otherwise deployed for most of that time. So while they were a part of the team on paper, until they’d deployed on a mission with the rest of the men, he knew they were still proving themselves.

“So that’s the shooting range, the pool table and what was the other one?” Tall and dark haired with a muscular build that leaned toward lanky, Lt. Taylor Powell gave Jackrabbit an amused look. “Beer guzzling, wasn’t it?”

“He can’t win them all.”

“Sure he can,” Scavenger disagreed with a friendly smile. “I’ve never seen him lose a bet.”

“All that means is he only takes sure bets,” Jackrabbit said with a growl, obviously still pissed.

Gabriel didn’t blame him. Losing sucked. Or so he’d heard.

“Ops, bets, women,” Scavenger said in a musing sort of tone. “We’ve served together for six years now and I’m pretty sure he’s won them all.”

To prove his point, he continued regaling the others with a few of Gabriel’s exploits.

Gabriel ignored the stories and the ensuing laughter as he racked up the balls for whoever wanted to play the next round. He didn’t need to defend himself. His record stood solid on its own. Jackrabbit would see that soon enough, since they were heading into training together next week.

He’d learn that Gabriel was used to winning.

Define your path, stand your ground. That was what his grandfather had taught him. That and to never let anyone else’s actions define his own. Simple rules that’d defined his life. Because of them, he’d survived leaving the reservation and living on the streets after his grandfather died. He’d got out of the slums, he’d joined the Navy, he’d become a SEAL. Because of those rules, he’d never met a challenge he couldn’t meet, beat or defeat.

It was what he did.

It was who he was.

Maybe it hadn’t always been that way, but it was now.

And now was all that mattered.

Gabriel glanced at the clock again, noting how fast time was flying by.

“C’mon, boys. We’ve got a party to get to.”

Not that Irish would be docking points for them being late to his little shindig. But Gabriel figured their commander’s bride-to-be might be a little put out if half of her fiancé’s team was late to their engagement celebration. And Gabriel made a point to never disappoint a lady.

As one, the eight men strode out of Olive Oyl’s bar with a wave here and a shout-out there to familiar faces. Outside, the cool air washed over them in welcome as they straddled their motorcycles. Not nearly as comfortable as they’d be in jeans or even in uniform, some of the men tucked their ties into their shirts, a couple of them stowing their suit jackets into their saddlebags.

Gabriel, who hadn’t bothered to put either on yet, simply unhooked his helmet. Before he could pull it on, the deceptively lanky guy on the Indian Chief next to him tilted his head.

“Watch your back,” murmured Mr. Wizard, as the team called Taylor. “Jackrabbit’s got a hard-on to take you down.”

“Ain’t gonna happen.”

“He’s just superstitious,” Scavenger remarked from the other side, his words pitched low enough that nobody beyond the three of them could hear over the roaring engines. “He figures your luck has to run out eventually and he doesn’t want to be on a mission with you when it does.”

Scavenger really believed that? Damn, the guy was gullible. In the act of unlocking his helmet, Gabriel exchanged looks with Taylor, who was rolling his eyes.

“Jackrabbit can keep his hard-ons and his superstitions to himself,” Gabriel stated, pulling his helmet on to put an end to the conversation.

But as he kicked the Harley to life and put it into gear, Jackrabbit angled his bike into the lead, deliberately cutting off Gabriel. Forced to admit that Mr. Wizard had a point, Gabriel bided his time. As soon as they hit the freeway onramp, he throttled hard, letting the bike fly around traffic. He kept it just under one hundred miles per hour, not needing to look at the speedometer to confirm since he knew the bike as well as he knew his own body. All it took was a glance in the rearview mirror to assure him that the team had accepted his challenge.

And the race was on.

Grinning into the wind as it beat against his face, Gabriel took the scenic route—off the freeway, along the beach, through every twist and turn he could find. Might as well make it interesting.

By the time they’d caught up in the parking lot of the fancy renovated manor house, he’d wrapped himself in a tie, pulled on his suit jacket and was adjusting his cuffs.

Gabriel waited until everyone had dismounted and they were all ready to head in to the party before clapping Jackrabbit on the shoulder.

“Why don’t you just accept it, bro? I always win.”

* * *

TESSA MONROE EASILY ignored the appreciative looks and heated stares as she crossed the elegant ballroom surrounded by the glitter of crystal, the sweetness of white roses and the tinkling melody of good cheer.

Her long brunette curls swayed over milky white skin, the rich purple of her silky dress perfectly fitting the posh ambiance of the ballroom.

The setting suited her.

Of course, she looked just as good in the gym wearing skimpy, yet breathable cotton. Or on the beach in a tiny bikini. On the slopes wearing layers, behind her laptop while she interviewed relationship experts for her latest column or on a date with the latest in her string of male conquests.

Simply put, she was a woman used to being admired.

So used to it that she barely noticed. Instead, she admired the huge manor. Lit up like a beacon, the chandeliers glinted as music played softly in the background. The ballroom was so filled with people that Tessa welcomed the cool March night air wafting through the open doors. She could see the torch-lit paths leading from the gardens to the beach beyond, but didn’t think anyone had ventured out yet.

It was a lovely party that suited Olivia Kane perfectly. And Tessa wanted her best friend to be safe and happy. But Livi was making a huge mistake. Tessa knew it; she was terrified of it. Yet she couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Not without putting her friend’s happiness—and more important, her health—at risk.

So Tessa did something so unusual, so out of character, that she had to focus on it with all her being. She ignored her instincts, put aside her personal prejudices and, God forbid it became a habit, for the first time in her life she tried faking it.

With her brightest smile plastered on her face, she pretended she was perfectly thrilled as she made her way to her dearest, oldest friend’s side to celebrate what could be a huge, painful mistake.

Marriage.

Tessa shuddered.

She had to say something. At least get Livi to consider what she was jumping into. Not just marriage. But marriage to a military man. A SEAL.

Her mind simply boggled.

“Livi...” Her voice trailed off as the rest of the words disappeared somewhere in her throat before they reached her tongue.

“Yes?”

Her blond hair twisted into a cascading crown of curls down the shoulder of her lipstick-red dress and her huge brown eyes dancing with happiness, Livi looked better than Tessa had ever seen her. Tucking her arm into Tessa’s, Livi offered a bright smile, hers as genuine as the sweetness shining from her face.

How the two of them were such good friends was baffling, since the only thing sweet about Tessa was her taste in desserts.

“About all of this,” Tessa said, waving her hand to indicate the party. But once more her words trailed off as she looked into Livi’s face.

She glowed, as if she were lit from within with happiness. Joy shone in Livi’s eyes, pleasure curved her lips and her entire being simply radiated delight.

Crap. Tessa sighed. She couldn’t do it.

“Can I get you more cider?” she offered instead, gesturing to Livi’s almost empty glass with her own champagne flute.

“Oh, no. I’m fine. Isn’t it lovely here?” Practically bouncing in her Louboutin shoes, Livi gazed around the beachside manor. “I’d so love to have the wedding here, but there aren’t spots available until November.”

Before Tessa could suggest she hold out, since November was only eight months away—didn’t it take years to plan these sorts of things anyway?—Livi continued.

“But obviously we can’t wait that long,” she said with a soft laugh. Rubbing her hand over her silk-covered, flat belly, she added, “Mitch’s mother would really like it better if we were married before the baby arrives.”

And that settled it.

Tessa offered a passing waiter a smile big enough to make him trip in his rush to bring her another glass of champagne. As soon as she’d exchanged flutes, she knocked back half of the bubbly to hide her grimace.

“Now, that’s a sight made to make women swoon,” Livi murmured with an appreciative sigh. “You know, we work with good-looking, incredibly built men all the time, but these guys give new meaning to the word fit.”

Ready to be distracted, Tessa put her worries aside. Because if there were one thing she made a point of appreciating on a regular basis, it was men. So much so that she’d managed to turn her enjoyment of the male species into a career writing about the games between the sexes.

Sometimes when she was alone late at night she wondered how long she could finesse her talent for flirting into a viable profession. When the clock ran out on that option, what would she do? Emulate her mother, who’d flirted her way through six—and counting—marriages so far?

Tessa shuddered at the thought.

More than ready to be distracted and play, Tessa followed her friend’s gaze in search of a worthy opponent.

And damn near spun on her five-inch Giuseppe Zanotti heels and ran the other way.

Her heart skipped, bouncing in her chest a few times before plunging into her stomach. It had plenty of company there, as it tangled up with a wild jangle of anticipation, nerves and lust. She tried to swallow but her throat was too dry. Her tongue, usually quite nimble, was glued to the roof of her mouth.

She shifted her gaze to the gardens beyond the French doors, pretending she found the sight peaceful. Fingers clenching and unclenching around the stem of her glass, she took a couple of deep breaths and focused on pulling the soothing air down to her belly until she found some semblance of calm.

Then she looked back at the group of men who’d just walked into the mansion.

Her heart raced again. Emotions spun through her, too fast to identify. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care what they were. Only that they spun right back out.

“Why is he...they here?” she asked, hoping Livi hadn’t caught her slip of the tongue.

“The team? You don’t think Mitch would celebrate our engagement without his SEALs, do you?” Livi asked with a laugh. Then, before Tessa realized what her friend was going to do so she could have grabbed her arm to stop her, Livi gave a big ol’ exuberant wave.

As one, the men looked their way.

But Tessa only saw one man.

Taller than the rest, his shoulders broad and tempting beneath a lightweight sport coat the same vivid black as his eyes, he wore a simple dress shirt under his jacket, yet managed to look perfectly elegant.

His gaze locked on her, sending a zing of desire through her body with the same intensity as it had the first time he’d looked her way six months before.

Tessa Monroe, the woman who’d flicked off movie stars, who’d written articles calling out misogynists and who always—always—came out on top when it came to any encounter with the opposite sex, wanted to duck behind her friend and hide.

“That’s so sweet of his friends to come all this way to celebrate your engagement to Mitch,” she said hopefully, watching Livi’s fiancé stride through the crowd to greet the group with back slaps and what looked to be laughing taunts. “Isn’t most of Mitch’s team stationed across the country?”

“They didn’t have to come far. They’re all based in Coronado now. Didn’t I tell you?” Livi asked, her eyes locked on Mitch as if she could eat him up with her gaze alone. “Romeo’s the best man.”

Romeo.

Tessa’s smile dropped away as dread and something else curled low in her belly.

Her gaze cut across the room, honing in on the man she’d secretly dubbed her personal kryptonite after just one meeting. And had judiciously avoided ever since.

Gabriel Thorne. Aka Romeo.

His eyes were still locked on her.

At least a hundred feet separated them, but Tessa could see the heat in that midnight gaze.

It was as if he could look inside her mind and deep into her soul and see everything she’d hidden away. All of her desires, her every need, her secret wants.

A wicked smile angled over his chiseled face, assuring her that he not only saw them all, but that he was also quite sure that he could fulfill every single one. And in ways that would leave her panting, sweaty and begging for more.

There was very little Tessa didn’t know about sex. She appreciated the act, reveled in the results and had long ago mastered the ins and outs of, well, in and out. She knew how to use sex, how to enjoy sex and how to avoid sex.

So if anyone had told her that she’d feel a low, needy promise of an orgasm curling tight in her belly from just a single look across a crowded room, she’d have given their cheek a pitying pat and laughed at them.

And now, she admitted to herself, she’d have had to apologize for her mistake.

“Shall we?” Livi murmured, making as if to hurry across the room.

“I’ll catch up later,” Tessa promised. At Livi’s frown, she added, “I want to check with your mother and make sure everything is on schedule. You know, maid-of-honor stuff.”

“Willingly seek out Pauline, who you know perfectly well has everything under control?” Livi’s frown deepened as she planted her fists on her hips. “What’s going on?”

Over Livi’s shoulder, Tessa could see the men starting to make their way through the crowd toward them. Something clenched tight in her belly and it took her a second to identify it as panic. Desperate to get away but still not willing to upset Livi, her mind raced for an out. Wetting her lips, she shifted her smile from friendly to sultry and leaned toward her friend in a confiding way.

“There’s a very yummy model here I’ve been wanting a taste of ever since I saw how he could hold up a pair of jeans with his stuff alone. He’s over by the buffet,” she murmured. “You play hostess. I’m going to get a nibble before someone else dishes him up.”

“Stuff?” Livi’s laugh pealed with delight, her quick hug filling Tessa with enough guilt that she told herself she’d find a model somewhere tonight to flirt with. “Go, taste, nibble, enjoy. Just remember you have to sit at the head table for dinner.”

The head table. With the bride-and groom-to-be, and most likely their erstwhile best man.

Tessa offered a weak smile.

It was enough to make a girl lose her appetite.

* * *

WELL, WELL.

When a party was thrown by a woman who made her living as a fitness trainer, the guests were bound to be hot and gorgeous, with bodies to match. And Livi’s party proved that Southern California had a vast variety of gorgeous to choose from.

But Gabriel’s body hummed for just one particular woman. Petite perfection, Tessa Monroe was like something out of a dream. A very wet, sweaty, lust-filled dream. With long dark hair that called to a man’s more prurient fantasies and a face made for bad poetry and deep sighs, she was gorgeous even from across the room. Wrapped in a tiny bit of purple silk, her body was fifty shades of amazing, with curves and angles that promised almost more than a mere man could handle. Almost.

Gabriel had no doubts about his ability to handle her. But he was getting impatient. He’d been waiting to get his shot at the sexy little angel for more months than he cared to admit. And tonight was it. His chance to finally start making good on every hot dream he’d had about Miss Tessa Monroe since their first meeting last Halloween.

He’d never figured out why she’d taken an instant dislike to him. He hadn’t gotten further than introductions that night before she’d shot him down. A first, and not one he cared to repeat. Gabriel still didn’t know what’d caused her instant animosity. His cologne? His Native American brave costume? A hideous past life experience where he’d kidnapped her from her wagon-train adventure, carried her off into the woods and introduced her to the carnal delights of the flesh?

Whatever it was, it was standing in the way of all the great sex they should be having. And tonight was the night to see it gone.

Even as he exchanged greetings with Mitch, clapped hands with his friend’s father, Captain Donovan, and shared friendly nods with various brass surrounding them, Gabriel watched Tessa flee. She’d probably claim that she was simply showing her disinterest in his presence. But he’d seen the look in her eyes. That flash of desire so hot it came with a mind-blowing guarantee. The dismay, reluctance and anger that had followed told him she wasn’t quite ready to see that guarantee through, though.

Not yet.

Rocking back on his heels, he assured himself that it wouldn’t take much to push her over.

“Gabriel.”

His smile shifting from predatory to friendly, he opened his arms to Livi, giving her a gentle hug. She was a total sweetheart and it was easy to see why his friend had fallen for her. Gabriel was still having trouble with the concept of Mitch actually marrying—some things just didn’t mix. Oil and water, fire and ice, military and marriage. Hence Gabriel’s relationship rule—keep it light and easy, walk away early, leave them with a smile. He’d never ask a woman to make the sacrifices necessary to be with a military man, and he refused to let any woman be a distraction from his number one focus—his career.

But that was him. Irish was different. So even knowing his friend was probably making a mistake, Gabriel still understood the motivation behind his friend’s decision. Irish was gonna be a dad, so this was the right thing to do. And Irish was nothing if not right.

And lucky, given that his baby momma was a doll like Livi.

“You’re gorgeous,” he told her in greeting.

“I was just going to say the same thing to you,” she said with a soft laugh. “How do you get better looking every time I see you?”

“Clean living and fresh sea air,” he joked, since he’d spent a large part of the past three months on an aircraft carrier. “How about you? Don’t tell me it’s Irish that’s put the glow in your smile.”

“In my smile, in my heart,” Livi murmured with a sheepish grin.

Her gaze cut to Mitch, and Gabriel had to admit, the emotions shining in those eyes were enough to make him wish for a second that he believed in marriage. Because if anyone deserved a happy one, it was the pretty blonde and his best pal.

“Enough with this guy,” Mitch said as he joined them. “He already knows how fabulous you are. Ready to meet the rest of the team so they can know, too?”

Gabriel saw the nerves in Livi’s eyes, felt her take a bracing breath and knew she was battling her instinctive shyness as she was introduced to the large group of men. What must that be like? Gabriel wondered. Not shyness. That was a concept so beyond his comprehension that it wasn’t even worth considering.

But the idea of having a woman put her own fears, her own issues, aside for you... Gabriel was used to women wanting to do a lot of things with his body, and there were just as many who’d be happy to lay claim to his emotions. But he’d never known a single one—his own mother included—who gave a damn enough to put him ahead of anything in their little world.

Once the introductions were through and everyone had offered their wishes, Mitch tilted his head toward the room, indicating the men were on their own. Livi, easily reading him, offered to take the team around and introduce them.

“We’re fine,” Gabriel assured her. “I’m sure we’ll find plenty to entertain ourselves.”

And so they did.

By the time the team meandered through the party, exchanged greetings, snagged beers and commandeered a table in the back, Gabriel had plenty of entertaining options.

What he didn’t have, though, was a clue as to where his quarry had scurried. Because as intriguing as the many offers he’d received were, there was only one woman he was interested in tonight.

The only one who’d ever turned him down.

Tessa Monroe.

His very own angel.