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Commanding Her Seal (Plus Bonus Novella)(61)

By:Kat Cantrell


Except his gut was still busted. Obviously. He’d been sure that he and Lilah had been working toward something… and then it had all fallen apart the moment they’d hit civilization. His fault.

Hence the restlessness that he couldn’t squelch.

That last conversation with Lilah in the hotel… painful. All he’d wanted to do was take her in his arms and find a place to be with her away from everyone. For a second, he’d thought she’d been feeling it too. But that wasn’t the deal. Had never been the deal. Not only that—he wasn’t looking for a deal. He had a job to do, and getting distracted by a bunch of emotions wasn’t kosher.

Besides, it was for the best that his gut had been wrong. He had nothing to offer a woman, especially not one like Lilah, who deserved better than a guy who spent more time in covert conditions than stateside.

But oh dear God, when would he stop thinking about her?

Maybe a book would provide enough of a distraction. He read the first paragraph of the newest Jack Reacher four times before he made himself give up. Best save that for his next transatlantic flight anyway.

Jogging, for the win then. If nothing else, he could do something beneficial for his body. Getting out of his head for a few minutes sounded pretty good too.

He threw on some Nikes and opened his apartment door. Lilah stood on the other side, fist raised to knock.

Lilah. On his doorstep. In Coronado. Totally had not seen that coming. His instincts were horribly off. What the hell? How was he supposed to protect his team if he was this out of whack?

“Um, hey,” she said, her eyes big and dark and gorgeous as her arm dropped to her side.

Geez. She looked fantastic. Which would sound a whole lot better out loud than it did zipping around inside him. “What are you doing here?”

God, who was this moron wearing his skin? But before he could collect himself enough to tell her that he really was happy to see her, please come in, holy crap do you look hot in that dress, or all of the above, she smiled.

“I’m delivering your photograph in person.”

She held out a flat brown paper package, and he took it before fully registering what she meant. Okay. This would be a good time to get behind closed doors if she was passing out pornography starring him in full view of his neighbors.

Stepping aside, he jerked his head toward the living room, the package crackling under his suddenly tight fingers. “Can you come in for a minute? Or is this a drive-by delivery?”

Which would be really weird considering he recalled that she’d mentioned she lived in New Orleans in the same building as Thora. Even weirder? She was here. Not in New Orleans.

She nodded and followed him inside to take a seat on his couch. With impressive sleight of hand, he shoved a T-shirt under a chair that had missed the hamper by about twenty-five feet and two walls and slid a cereal bowl behind a framed picture of his mom and dad at Disneyland.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said inanely.

Duh. But she’d completely thrown him for a loop. His gut was screaming at him to snatch her up and sink into her, which was probably not the best way to greet a woman you’d hung out with for a couple of days under extreme circumstances.

“I know. I wasn’t expecting me either.” She bit her lip, tipping him off that she’d said something she considered awkward. It was just as cute as he remembered. “I mean, this was totally impulsive. Eight hours ago, I was in the middle of developing the film from our… photo shoot, and the next thing I knew, I was at Louis Armstrong airport booking the next flight to San Diego.”

Reminder. He still had the package clutched in his hand. “Thank you for the picture. Can I look at it?”

She nodded. “Otherwise I’m going to feel really silly for bringing it all this way.”

The wrapping tore off easily, revealing a black-and-white print. Of his face. Only.

There’d been a whole lot more nakedness going on at the time, but this carefully cropped version of reality hit him sideways. “I don’t understand. Did the rest of my body break the film or something?”

Not that he was interested in seeing himself in all his glory, but the experiment had meant something to her. It wasn’t about the final product, but about the experience. It should have been a watershed moment where she learned that it wasn’t so hard to get the right pose out of her photography subjects as long as she actually talked to them.

He’d wanted to give her that.

She rose from the couch and crossed to where he was standing near the bar that separated the living area from the kitchen. The photograph slipped from his hands as she took it and laid it on the counter.

He let himself fall into her expressive eyes as she captured his gaze.