Pleasing Her SEAL(32)

His face must have given him away, because she looked stunned. Being  Maddie, however, it was only a temporary condition and she sprang into  action.

"Oh, my God." She smacked him against the chest. "You were. What kind  of military do we have these days? Does Uncle Sam pimp out his boys?"

"It wasn't like that." Not exactly. "You shot footage of our mission. I  needed to make sure you didn't have any other videos or photos."

"So you're not Mr. Perfect. You're an undercover SEAL. And you...slept  with me so you could check out my photos? Was it worth it?"

"I can explain," Mason said, even though he was pretty certain there  was no way he could. Being the perfect boyfriend definitely didn't  include lies of omission.

"Whoa. Stop right there." She held up a hand. "You're a US Navy SEAL.  You're here on a job." She folded down two fingers on her other hand.  "You had designs on my data." She folded down her pinkie. "And you let  me think you wanted to date me because it was part of some supersecret  military plan to make the world a better place?" She folded down her  fourth finger and flashed him the bird. "That's what I think of that  plan, soldier."

Her body vibrated with anger, but she wasn't an angel in this scenario,  either. She'd come on to him first, even if he hadn't resisted. So they  weren't done. He wasn't done. She could damn well listen to the rest of  what he had to say.

"Now that you've gone all judge and jury on my ass, let's get a couple of things clear."

He leaned into her, bracing his arms on either side of her so that she  had nowhere to go. Not that that stopped Maddie. She tried to duck under  his arm, eyeing the door as though she thought running would solve her  problems. "I'm done talking with you."

He shifted, keeping her caged. "You're not talking with me. You're  talking at me. Now it's my turn." She opened her mouth, clearly ready to  argue some more with him. Too bad. "Nope." He laid the palm of his hand  over her mouth. "My turn, not yours."

When her eyes narrowed, he added, "Bite me and it will be my turn for the next week."

"You suck," she mumbled. "I want to make that very clear."

True, but he still had something to say and she was going to listen.

"I had a job to do, a job that mattered. I can't give you details about  why we're here. We have a credible threat on your person and we're  moving you for your own safety." He felt her inhale. Teeth were coming.  Or a knee to the balls. He deserved both, but didn't he also deserve  some kind of understanding?

"Maybe you feel I should have been up front with you from the  beginning," he continued. "I would have liked that, but it wasn't my  call. I had three options. Option one-I just take your laptop and your  stuff. You don't get it back. I have my team go through it and to hell  with what happens to your data or your own job here on Fantasy Island. I  find out what I need while you run around the island trying to figure  out who stole your gear.

"Option two-I let US Customs do the same thing when you head back to  the mainland, except they eventually give you back your gear after  they've gone through it and wiped it. Option three-I borrow the laptop  and we go through it. Carefully," he emphasized. "We remove what we need  to remove, but you've still got ninety-five percent of what you had  before and everything's in working order. In fact, in that scenario, you  likely don't even know I'd been through your stuff."                       
       
           


       

He removed his hand from her mouth. "Now it's your turn."

"That covers my computer." She glared at him. "But I don't recall  bringing my computer along on any of our dates. How about you explain  that to me?"

He exhaled roughly. "Let's just say our original target has a brother  who is really not happy with what happened to his family member. In  fact, he's so unhappy that we had concerns about your personal safety,  since it turns out you posted some of your lagoon photos before we could  shut you down."

She blinked, the hurt and anger still simmering in her eyes. "I took photos of your operation?"

"That morning when I surprised you at the lookout point," he confirmed.  "You got off a couple of shots of the Zodiacs coming in. There's enough  detail there to make out our target's face. Fortunately, you didn't get  any of my team. My team does a lot of covert ops." He cleared his  throat. "It helps if the world doesn't know our faces. We go in, we  blend in. That's why we were working as staff here on the island. It  gave us a credible reason to be here, and most people don't look too  closely at the staff."

"I don't even know you." She looked horrified. "Is Mason Black even your real name?"

This wasn't the woman who had been the most adventurous lover he'd ever  had, who had opened her arms and her heart to him. He wanted that woman  back, because he was fairly certain she did know him in all the ways  that mattered.

"That's me."

She wasn't done, though. "We don't really know any of the important  details about each other. We know what each other likes in bed, but  that's really it, isn't it?"

She steamed on ahead. "I don't know if you're a Republican or a  Democrat. If you like quilted toilet paper or plain. Where your family  lives, where you went to school, who your last girlfriend was and if  your mom liked her."

Not sure how any of those things connected, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "My last girlfriend married me."

Her eyes widened. "So you are married."

"Not anymore. I was a kid, Maddie. I was eighteen when I got married and I was divorced by twenty."

Yeah. There was no missing the disgust written on her face, and he  didn't think it was because she was worried about having committed  adultery with him. "Do you have kids?"

"No." He leaned in. "No kids. No wife. Being a SEAL isn't a  family-friendly activity. I'm gone for months at a time and there's  always a chance that I'm not coming back." Meeting her gaze head-on, he  added roughly, "Shit happens, Maddie, even on training runs. We push  hard, live on the edge. There's a price tag on that kind of living, and  it wasn't one my wife was willing to pay. I wasn't much better. I was  still a kid. I hadn't figured out how to give her what she needed, and I  thought a steady paycheck would be enough."

She thought about that for a moment. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-two." Although right now he felt as though he was pushing eighty. Or eight hundred.

"One last question."

Crap. Her voice caught on the last word as she moved to the closet and  grabbed a bag. She needed more than he could give her right now, but he  had no way of manufacturing more time.

"Shoot," he said, moving closer. Maybe if he could see her face, he  could figure out the right thing to say. Find the words that would fix  everything.

She swept her passport into her bag and turned around to face him. "Did I ever truly matter to you, or was I just convenient?"

There was absolutely nothing convenient about how he felt for her. Her face radiated pain and he...had a timeline.

"We need to move." And screw the mission. Leaning forward, he gently  cupped her cheek. God, she was soft. And vulnerable. All your fault,  sailor. "Yes, you did. You still do. But things are complicated right  now."

She stiffened, the hollow expression on her face replaced by anger.  "You're the security expert here, Mason, but I feel I need to make one  thing perfectly clear."                       
       
           


       

Uh-huh. As long as she moved, she could say whatever she wanted. He  owed her that and more. Cracking the door, he scanned their  surroundings. So far, so good. It was a long shot that Santiago had made  it back from the Belizean mainland only to ambush Maddie, but Mason  wasn't taking chances.

"First, those words? Are the biggest cop-out ever. Second, I agree with  you. We need to move on," she said, allowing him to pull her out and  onto the porch. "I need to move on. After you get me wherever it is  we're going-"

"Naval cruiser about a mile off Fantasy Island," he responded, tucking  her into his side and pulling her into the jungle. They'd cut through  the trees to get to the beach, which would give them better cover.

"As soon as we set foot on deck," she spat, "we're done. Over. Kaput.  Finito. Got it, soldier? Whatever game you've been playing with me is  finished. I'm not part of your war games, and if there ever was an us,  there isn't anymore."