Claiming Her SEAL(5)

This trip was about finding her center again. What was wrong with  picking up a hot guy along the journey toward the surface of this  quagmire she'd fallen into? She wanted to feel strong and in control of  her life for once. A torrid vacation fling might be just what the doctor  ordered.

If he'd warned her off yesterday because he didn't want her to feel  obligated to her rescuer, he could forget that notion. She'd grant her  company to whomever she wanted to, whenever she chose, for whatever  reasons she saw fit, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Not going to," he confirmed. "Because I have a feeling you're here for a  reason. It would be crappy of me to interfere with that."         

     



 

Oh, geez. That gushed through her chest with a big splash of warmth. "You're a really sweet guy, you know that?"

Dex laughed, then managed to look startled that he'd laughed, and shut  his eyes for a blink with a small groan. "Yeah, no. You can get that out  of your head right now. I couldn't be any further away from who you  seem to think I am."

"That's ridiculous." She scowled in his general direction, but since he  was staring out over the water again, he probably didn't even notice.  "You keep saying that, like you're trying to scare me away. It's not  going to work, so shut up."

At that, he slowly turned his head to contemplate her, blinking those deep gray eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

Well, wasn't that was a trip and a half. Telling a guy like Dex to do  something, and he just did it. Made her wonder what other orders he  might be willing to take. "If it's so not smart to be this far from the  resort, what are you doing here?"

Stupid question. Dex clearly went wherever he wanted without fear. The  world was his oyster. She could use a good dose of his courage. Maybe if  she stuck to his side, some of it would transfer to her by osmosis.

"I live near here." He jerked his head down the beach in the opposite  direction of the resort. "There's a small village maybe a half a mile  that way where a lot of the resort staff lives."

"You work at the resort?"

Why had that never occurred to her? Of course he did. It shouldn't be  such a shock. That was why he'd rescued her from the cretin …  because he  was probably a lifeguard or something.

Deflated, she crossed her arms over her midsection. No wonder he kept  trying to brush her off. He'd just been doing his job when he'd fended  off a resort guest on behalf of another one. And she'd invented some  kind of magical fairy tale out of it, like he'd come to her aid on an  imaginary white horse, sword drawn to slay all the dragons on her  behalf, but was too much of a gentleman to claim the lady's hand.

And she wasn't even a fairy-tale kind of girl. There was no magic, at  least not in her world. Just scars and not enough bandages. Thoroughly  annoyed with herself for being such an idiot, she started to turn away.

"Nah, I just live there because it's convenient. I run an excursion  company with some buddies. You wanna go parasailing or snorkeling, you  call me."

Oh. So it hadn't been his job to protect her. He'd done it out of the  goodness of his heart, like she'd assumed. God, she could not get a  handle on what was happening here. So which was he-white knight or bad  news?

The man ran the company that offered snorkeling excursions. That  couldn't be a coincidence. The universe had finally self-corrected,  putting exactly what she'd needed in her grasp at exactly the right  time. Relief rushed into the hollow place in her chest, and for the  first time, she experienced a moment of optimism akin to her pre-Chris  self.

She hadn't known Dex was watching her as she spazzed about whether she  was actually going to get in the water. He could have let her walk away  without ever saying a word. He could have walked away. The man moved  like a graceful panther on the prowl. She'd never have heard him if he'd  decided to leave before announcing his presence.

But he hadn't left.

A good dose of the courage she'd desperately sought flashed through her. "Is that a line?"

"Came out automatically," he allowed without even a hint of a smile, but  the muscles in his neck drew taut. "I meant, call the front desk. One  of the guys is always available. We're just getting off the ground, so  we appreciate the business."

She cocked her head and contemplated him with a pointed once-over.  "You're a natural flirt. Yet you seem to be trying to reel it in with  me. Why?"

"Because I am."

"Oh, right." The tide had risen a bit while they were standing there,  and the foamy line of water stretched closer and closer to her feet. It  was a testament to Dex's presence that she had absolutely no desire to  back away. "You're bad news. I remember now. Tell me, what's the  definition of bad news? If I said I'm not worried about that, exactly  what kind of trouble would I find myself in?"

Maybe he was one of those dungeon-whip-tie-you-up types. Her fascination  with Dex shot off the charts as she sifted through a few choice  scenarios designed to find out.

"The kind where you'd be in over your pretty head very fast."

"You seem to think I'm some sort of delicate flower who would be easily  crushed by whatever your mysterious secrets are. I'm not."         

     



 

Was she? Defense had come automatically. She'd always defined herself as  a strong woman. But recent events might prove otherwise, and shame  flushed her chest with heat.

Being a good judge of character wasn't one of her strong suits.  Obviously. Was Dex picking up on her spazzy brain? Sensing the  weaknesses that had walloped her from out of nowhere over the past three  months?

Perhaps she should heed his warnings. Men who seemed to be one thing but  were something else entirely were her kryptonite. It couldn't be a  coincidence that he'd used a metaphor for drowning when answering her  question.

Or …  maybe this was an opportunity to be brave. To find a bit of her old  self-or all of it. To jump in with both feet and kick to the surface so  she could find out precisely what kind of wicked she could stir up with  Dex whose name rhymed with sex.

Moving past Chris had been the whole point of this trip, and there was  nothing wrong with solidifying her newfound courage again by flirting  with a hot guy on a secluded beach.

"Yeah?" Those gray eyes latched onto hers, seeking out …  something. "Because you look pretty delicate to me."

"Why don't you come over here and find out."

It was a dare and an invitation, all wrapped up in one, and he didn't  miss it. The muscles in his jaw tightened as his lashes lowered with a  slow perusal of her bikini-clad body. Heat flashed across her skin as if  he'd stroked her with his hand instead of his gaze, and the fabric  covering her nipples grew oh so tight and delicious as friction  heightened the arousal racing through her body.

Something wholly frightening rose up in his expression. Frightening …   because the way he was looking at her said he wanted to do very wicked  things to her indeed, and she wasn't going to say no.





Walk away.

Dex didn't take one step away from Emma like he should. Couldn't have  moved one muscle if the entire ISIS army popped out of the ocean like an  Iraqi version of the crew of the Flying Dutchmen.

The late afternoon sun highlighted the outline of Emma's very pointy and  incredibly sexy nipples, taunting him from under the white triangles  over her breasts. He was having a hell of a time keeping his eyes off  them. You didn't stare at a woman's chest while talking to her, no  matter what kind of come-on signals she was shooting in your direction.

Of course, Emma's were more of the flare-gun-at-night variety. Vivid, splashy and indicative of someone in a lot of trouble.

In this case, it was Dex.

Despite all the reasons he should be steering clear, Emma intrigued him.  While she'd been making herself dizzy with all the direction changes,  he'd sat by the remnants of the campfire Charlie had built to roast the  grouper they ate for dinner and debated about announcing his presence.  But in the end, he couldn't resist finding out what she was doing.

The fish tacos hadn't been nearly enough fortification to face down the  amount of Available Woman being paraded around in front of his weakening  resolve. The guys had trooped back to their bungalows without a  backward glance after Dex had volunteered to clean up, laughing and  guzzling the last of the twelve pack that had naturally materialized  courtesy of Jack. They called him Jack of All Trades for a reason; there  was nothing the man wasn't proficient at.

Maybe Dex should call him back and ask him how to lie to a woman well  enough so she believed him when he said he wasn't interested. Because he  needed someone to be the voice of reason here before he showed her how  much trouble he was in with very graphic and irreversible example.

Yet …  he couldn't stand the idea of being responsible for more shadows in  the depths of Emma's clouded blue eyes. The black spot in his soul  sniffed out darkness easily, hungrily circling in hopes of finding  weaknesses. Because it wanted company.