SEAL the Deal(49)
She let out a slow breath to steady herself. Not with this man. He had no interest in settling down. He had made that clear.
But right now, seeing the intensity in his eyes as he looked at her, she considered that maybe something temporary with him might be worth the heartbreak that followed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Pushing open the door to the hotel suite, Mick drew in a sharp breath at the sight of Lacey’s perfectly formed backside bent over a fallen stack of cardboard boxes. God, she had perfect curves. The image would fuel his fantasies for at least a week. He cleared his throat. Lacey jumped at the sound.
“Whoa, Lacey. It’s just me.”
Mick grinned when Lacey’s breath caught at the sight of him in his dress blues for Edith’s fundraiser. He hated looking like a recruiting poster, his chest full of medals. But he did appreciate the effect it had on the opposite sex.
Her expression dimmed as she looked down at herself. Dripping with sweat, she peeled her dress from her soaked chest, and flapped the silky fabric in a futile attempt to dry herself. “You scared me. I thought I was the only one with a key.”
“Mrs. B got me one from the front desk. She said you might need some help.”
“Yes!” She nearly exploded at the offer. “I desperately need help. We were supposed to have at least five more volunteers here by now, but no one’s shown up yet.”
“They’ll show up when the food’s being served, I’ll bet.”
“If they even try to take a bite of food without putting in the work, I will personally murder them.”
“You know, this dress uniform comes with a sword. Should I go back and get it?”
Lacey half-laughed and half-cried, tossing herself backward onto the king size bed. “Oh, God. Look at me, Mick! I’m a mess. It’s the hottest November day in recent history and I’ve been unloading boxes for an hour.”
Mick did look at her. A sheen of perspiration had covered her chest, making her dress cling to her. In the daylight, Mick could make out the perfect curves of her breasts and see a slight outline of her ripe nipples. She withered into the bed, sinking deeper into the lush down comforter with every passing second. He ached to lie on the bed beside her, and lick every inch of her moist body.
Shit, he thought as his body reacted. There had to be a Navy regulation against appearing in dress blues with a raging hard-on.
Focusing on the look of sheer misery on Lacey’s face, he regained his composure. “You look beautiful. That dress is gorgeous. Just a little…wet.” He choked on the last word.
“Maeve picked it out. Damn her. Leave it to a woman who has never lifted anything heavier than a credit card to send me here in a silk dress to do hard labor.” She rolled over and punched a pillow, apparently unaware of her tempting position.
Mick’s knees buckled in reaction, and he grabbed a bedpost to steady himself.
Lacey rolled onto her back again, staring gloomily at the ceiling. “It’s not her fault though. I thought the hardest thing I’d be doing today is lighting a few votive candles. But there’s a line of minivans a mile-long downstairs with silent auction items I still need to unload. I have to bring them up here until the extra tables are set up.”
“Well, I’m here now. I’ll take over any lifting.” Averting his eyes from the inviting image of her on the bed, he offered a hand to pull her up. “Why not change into something else so your dress can dry out while we’re setting up?”
“I didn’t bring anything else.”
Mick scoffed. “I’m a SEAL. I’ve got at least five sets of PT gear in my car.”
“PT gear?”
“Workout clothes. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”
***
Her head still spinning, Lacey punched in the numbers to Maeve’s new security system, hoping not to wake anyone. She pulled off her shoes first. Then she unsnapped her bra, sighing with relief. Unable to make it up the staircase to her room, she collapsed onto the sofa.
The family room had that wintery scent of burning logs, and Lacey imagined Maeve must have had a fire in the fireplace tonight. The slight chill told Lacey she might need to shut the flue. But later. Right now, all she could do was elevate her aching feet and try to wind down.
The night had been exhilarating. Things went so smoothly after Mick had arrived, saving the day with his PT gear and strong arms. He had all the boxes unloaded in a quarter the time it would have taken Lacey.
Her dress had completely dried by the time she slipped it back on, and Maeve had been right. It was perfect—festive enough to be fun, yet subtle enough to be taken seriously as an up-and-coming real estate guru. She had handed out more business cards than she ever thought she would.