Claiming Her SEAL(22)

"So, that's it?" Dex shot to his feet. "We just sit around and jaw about  this and everyone's okay with that? Well, I'm not. Can't we file some  kind of paperwork deal to prevent Anderson from buying the island?"         

     



 

Barring that, maybe he could take his mood out on Anderson's face. A  little violence might do well to remind Dex what kind of tendencies  lurked in his soul. How he was a crappy human being and didn't even  deserve to lay down over sewage so someone like Emma could walk over  him.

Then maybe he could stop thinking about her and how he'd like to repeat  last night every night for the foreseeable future. That wasn't what  should happen. Emma was a one-night deal. Besides, she'd made it clear  she couldn't get away fast enough. How many more clues did he need to be  handed to get over himself already?

"What, like an injunction?" Charlie pursed his lip, clearly intrigued.  "Maybe. I don't know enough about Bahamian law to know if that even  exists. Our bank account doesn't have the luxury of paying for a lawyer  to advise us."

It was a testament to everyone's respect for Charlie that no one made a  crack about whether he'd considered calling his dad. He wouldn't, so it  was a moot point. Montgomery St. Croix could buy and sell Jared Anderson  and his piddling ReefCo enterprise ten times over without blinking, but  Charlie didn't get along with his father. It wasn't their business why  their leader didn't want to have anything to do with the St. Croix  billions.

A few extra zeroes would sure come in handy right about now though.

They talked for another thirty minutes and came up with exactly squat  for their trouble. Dex left the meeting in an even worse mood than  before.

"I need food," Dex grumbled to Evan as the solemn group trooped out of Charlie's place. "Wanna go to the resort with me?"

Bad idea, in hindsight. If Emma saw him, she'd think he was looking for  her. He wasn't. He didn't know what he'd even say if he did see her. But  he had to eat.

Evan nodded and followed him to the dock on the far side of the village  where they kept their speedboat. The other guys must have been too  depressed to seek out dinner, but Dex didn't see any point in starving  himself. Maybe if he ate, he could shed his temper for good.

They motored around the island to the resort, where the girls in the  kitchen slipped them burgers and fries when the restaurant manager  wasn't paying attention. Dex motioned to an empty table near the pool,  which was far enough away from the kitchen to avoid detection for the  filched food. If it happened to be right in the path from the beach to  the hotel tower, so? It wasn't like he was keeping an eye out for Emma  or anything.

She didn't materialize.

Morosely, he and Evan ate in silence. Or rather Evan ate. Dex picked at  his suddenly unappetizing food until he couldn't stand it anymore. "I'm  done. I'll walk back to the village."

Evan glanced up, his dark eyes unreadable, as always. "Why don't you talk to her?"

"What?" Scowling at his roommate, Dex took in the other man's composed  face, but Evan didn't elaborate. Likely because he'd made his point and  made it well. "What makes you think I need to talk to her? That's  ridiculous. There's nothing to say. It was one night. Now it's over."

Evan chewed his hamburger and nodded. The guy was half Spanish, and  sometimes Dex got the distinct impression he cultivated his mysterious,  broody persona on purpose, just to confuse people. Dex had grown up in  Houston, where he'd known his share of Mexicans, but Evan Silva was a  whole different breed.

Dex didn't feel all that charitable about it all at once.

"You think it's not over." Dex clenched his teeth and then cursed. What  did Emma think? "Well, what do you know about it? Nothing."

Except for the marathon shower. Evan was a guy and had probably taken a  long shower after a date a time or two. But that didn't mean what Evan  obviously thought it did. "For your information, I had sand in …  places  last night. And it wasn't a date!"

This one-sided conversation was over. Dex's mood veered into the realm  of dark and dangerous, which was not helped when he spun to stomp away  from the table, only to be confronted by Rachel.

"Hey, Dex." She glanced over his shoulder at Evan, and her brows lifted a  touch in pure female appreciation. "Who's your friend?"

With a strangled sigh, Dex turned back to the table. "Rachel, Evan. Good luck with that."

Rachel immediately plopped down in Dex's vacated seat. "Nice to meet  you, Evan. I saw you earlier. At the dock? I was thinking about  parasailing but it seems so dangerous. I was impressed with how patient  you were with that lady who changed her mind."

Abruptly, Rachel cut herself off to glance up at Dex, who was still  standing there like an idiot, but come on. This was too good to miss.  The dynamic at the table had shifted instantly as Evan's face took on a  panicked edge the longer Rachel babbled.         

     



 

Not that Dex spent a lot of time thinking about it, but Evan didn't suck  in the looks department. But he rarely spoke to anyone, let alone  women, and he definitely didn't encourage them. Occasionally a  particularly tenacious one would latch onto his enigmatic routine, and  the challenge was on. Dex was kind of curious what a high-energy,  unflinching woman like Rachel would do with him.

"You don't have to stick around, Dex," she said firmly. "I think you'll find that you're desperately needed in room 2319."

Dex backed up a step. "I'm not looking for Emma."

What, was everyone reading his mind today?

Though he did wonder why Rachel was at the pool by herself, dressed in a red bikini and sarong like she'd been here awhile.

"No one said you were. But she's been curled up in a ball in the center  of her bed since she got in last night and hasn't moved." A card key  appeared in Rachel's outstretched fingers. "Since I'm pretty sure you're  the only one who can fix that, off you go."

"Is she okay? Is she sick?" Before he'd registered his muscles moving, his arm shot out to take the room key.

Fix Emma? Like it was his fault she had something wrong with her?

"By the way, I have other sleeping arrangements for tonight," Rachel  commented without taking her gaze off Evan. "So, don't worry about me."

"I …  won't." And now his own face probably looked a lot like Evan's. Dumbstruck with a side of panic.

What if something was really wrong with Emma? Had he hurt her? She'd  said she could handle it. He hadn't believed her, but she'd taken  everything he'd given her and more. He'd thought she was okay, or he  never would have ignored her all day.

Since Rachel was off and running with her quest to get a rise out of her silent companion, Dex strode toward the elevator.

Fix it? Ha. He was the cause, not the solution. He'd check on Emma and leave.

Room 2319 loomed, and he hesitated. Yeah, Rachel had given him a key,  but that didn't mean Emma was expecting him. He knocked on the door  lightly. In case she was asleep. "Emma?"

She didn't answer. Maybe she was in the shower and hadn't heard him. And  now he was a double dog because the image of Emma naked in the shower  rocketed through him with the force of an atom bomb. She could be hurt  or sick, and all he could think about was nailing her again? Moron.

Cautiously, he slid the key into the reader and eased the door open. The  dark interior nearly swallowed him. "Emma? Are you okay?"

"What are you doing here?" Her muffled voice bled through him, soothing  his ruffled nerves. And riling him up but good, all at the same time.

At least she was alive. That was good. "Rachel sent me to check on you."

"She did, huh?" Emma's brief laugh struck him oddly, and he pushed into  the room a couple more steps. "Figures. I hide out in the one place I'm  sure you have no access to and yet …  here you are."

"Wait, you're hiding? From me?" The door slipped out of his suddenly clammy hand and shut with a bang. "Why?"

He had hurt her. She hated him. Stupid, clumsy boor that he was, even when he'd tried to be gentle, obviously-

A light snapped on, blinding him for a moment. When he'd blinked away  the worst of the bright blob over his vision, Emma was sitting up in her  bed, still wearing his shirt. Dear God. That was so sexy he couldn't  even articulate it.

She'd been wearing his shirt. All day. Since the moment she'd left him.  And he wanted to strip it off her in the worst way, revealing that  gorgeous body beneath. He wanted to reexperience the amazing thing that  had happened between them not so long ago, but geez, it felt as if it  had been a million years since he'd touched her.

Except she'd been hiding from him which kind of alluded to the fact that sex wasn't in his future.

She clasped her hands around her knees, as if holding herself together  by a slim thread. "Hiding in my room was the only way I could guarantee  myself that I'd stay away from you."