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Teasing Her Seal (Uniformly Hot!)(23)



“Only if I’m still talking to you.”

Ashley clearly had a double life, too, and Laney wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“Point taken.” The other woman patted her on the arm. “But we’re friends, so I’m holding out hope for a conversation later today.”

Levi paused, hand on the door. “Sorry about the chokehold.”

“No worries.” She’d send him the therapy bills.

Levi, Mason and Gray had some kind of unspoken guy exchange among the three of them involving pointed looks and head nods. Whatever. Levi and Mason left, leaving her alone with Gray. Finally. She snapped off her gloves and tossed them in the trash.

“Is this the part where you tell me you have to kill me if I talk?”

He gave her The Look. Too bad. She wasn’t backing down on this one. God. How could she have been so stupid? She might not have the best track record with men, but she knew Gray wouldn’t hurt her. Of course, she was also rethinking what she knew about him. He was a soldier and a covert operative. He did things—secret, really important things—where people got hurt. Staying pissed off at him was petty. She could admit that to herself, because it was also personal. She’d always been good at imagining an intimate connection where there was none. Case in point: Harlan.

“No. This is the part where I say thank you.” He reached out and brushed the hair off her cheek. The desire rising up in her was both unexpected and irritating. He’d lied to her. She was unofficially his doctor. Either was a good reason to give him the cold shoulder, but her body apparently had other plans. Before she could give in to the urge to nuzzle the big hand cupping her cheek, she stepped away from him—not that she had much space to go far because the room was too damned small—and scrubbed her hands in the sink again.

Naturally, he followed her. “You’re not into thank-yous?”

Tired of his games, she whirled and thrust a hand against his chest. “Back it up and answer one question for me. Was the sex just another lie?”



TERRIFIC. LANEY PARKER was pissed as hell. It was kind of cute, although he was beyond certain that he’d lose his balls if he told her that. He also owed her big-time for sewing him up. Sam did his best, but a field medic was no match for a skilled trauma surgeon. So he was definitely telling her thank you, whether she liked it or not. And apparently, thanking her included answering her questions.

He braced his palm on the wall beside her head. Not because he was going for the sexy but because, damn it, he was feeling lightheaded and he needed the support. If he passed out and landed on her, he’d either squash her flat or make more work for her. “I should say thank you for the sex, too.”

“Answer me.” She poked him in the chest again. “Was Mr. Big, Bad Biker SEAL taking undercover to a whole new level?”

“The sex was not an act.”

“Uncle Sam doesn’t hire his boys out?”

Hell, no. He would have thought that was obvious, but the answer clearly mattered to her. “I wanted to have sex with you.”

Wait. That didn’t sound right.

She dug her finger into his chest again. He was going to have permanent divots there.

“You told me you worked here. You let me proposition you.”

Definitely pissed off. But from the get-go, he’d made it clear he wasn’t a nice guy. And, hell, she’d seemed to enjoy it, at least in bed. Unfortunately, when he leaned in a little more, he staggered and she busted him.

“Sit.” She pointed to the bed. “Before you fall over and I have to patch something else up.”

He sat. Guess he could take orders, after all.

“Is that what you do on all of your undercover missions? Hook up with the locals?”

“Do I need a lawyer?” he asked, his lips quirking.

“As in anything you say can and will be used against you?”

“A heads-up would be appreciated, yeah.”

She sank onto the bed beside him. “Fair warning. I’ve been known to hold a grudge, and it’s been one hell of a day.”

He knew that feeling. He had a twin bed, a sink and his duffel bag underneath the bed. He needed a shower, a change of clothes and about forty-eight hours of shut-eye because he was running on empty and his side hurt like a bitch. Still, he was shocked by the uncharacteristic need to pull her down on the bed with him, to wrap himself around her and just sleep.

“So. About our fantasy...”

Our. “Yeah? What about it?”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Oh, boy. What was it with this need she had to post-mortem everything?

“Of course.” That was the only right answer and they both knew it. That it happened to be true was a bonus. “You did, too.”

His words weren’t a question. He’d been there. He’d felt her coming, squeezing his dick as she called his name. So he could tell she’d enjoyed herself in the moment. Afterward, though, well, that might have been a different story. He knew all about sex and regrets. And he knew another thing, too. She didn’t want to hear about the emptiness inside him, the way he used sex to fill that void. Bottom line? He was a guy attracted to a gorgeous woman with some really hot secret desires.

And because he’d not only bled all over her but lied to her about who he was and why he was on Fantasy Island, he’d be lucky if she shared any more of those desires with him. Although he wanted her to. Badly. Because Laney Parker was fast becoming his very own fantasy.

“I thought we were getting to know each other,” she said in a hurt tone, then stood up, heading for the door. She didn’t wait for his answer before stepping outside and closing the door behind her. But then it hadn’t really been a question, had it? He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.





10

WHEN LANEY SLIPPED out of the room, blinking back angry tears, she found Ashley waiting in the hall. There was no visible sign of Mason, although she suspected he hadn’t gone far. His absence was too bad—part of her still wanted to kick the man—hard—for letting her walk into Gray’s room blind. Her back hurt from Levi’s up-against-the-wall routine.

Ashley fell into step beside her. “I’ll walk you back to your bungalow.”

“Afraid I’ll get lost?” She’d thought she and Ashley were on their way to becoming friends, but apparently, she’d misread the situation. Whoever this woman was, Laney was willing to bet she hadn’t won her tickets to Fantasy Island in a radio contest.

The bigger question was, who was Gray to her? He’d said he was a lieutenant commander and a US Navy SEAL. He’d been injured—in the line of duty—and the other people in the room had to be his team members or people in the know.

“Are you a SEAL, too?”

Ashley made a face. “No girls allowed on the boys’ team.”

“Then I’m guessing you’re some other branch of the military.”

“Close.” Ashley followed her when she started up the path. “I’m DEA.”

Wow. Not what she was thinking. It was really none of her business who Ashley worked for, except that she had led her to believe that Ashley was just another resort guest. Or maybe she was being oversensitive.

“Does Madeline know?”

Ashley shook her head. “And I’d appreciate it if you kept it that way. The fewer people who know, the better.”

Honestly, she didn’t know anyone who would believe her. Even Madeline was going to demand proof.

“You set me up with Gray. Was that part of the cover story?”

She didn’t enjoy feeling stupid. Or gullible. In fact, both of those unpleasant emotions ranked at the top of her feelings-to-avoid-at-all-costs list. Gray had been her rebound man, a fun treat for herself. Sure, she hadn’t been looking for something permanent, but somehow she’d expected honesty. Maybe Gray was just really, really good at covert ops, because she’d believed him when he’d said he wanted her.

So, okay, she’d fallen just a little bit for him.

Ashley jammed her hands into her pockets. It was hard to imagine her as some kind of cutthroat DEA agent when Laney looked at the Daisy Dukes and pink flip-flops, but her fierce intelligence and ability to think on her feet? She had to respect that. She would have made a fantastic trauma surgeon.

“I’m going to be blunt, okay?”

Right. As if Ashley had ever been anything but. “You’ve been holding back on me?”

“Only about my job description.” Ashley strode up the path, flip-flops snapping against her heels. “Here’s the thing. I like you. I like Gray. He’s uptight and closed off and his idea of a fun time seems to involve motorcycles, biker bars and any fight that ends with broken beer bottles, but he’s a great guy. You were looking for a rebound guy for some no-holds-barred sex, and I thought the two of you would be good for each other.”

Did hot sex really count as good for each other?

“Fantasy Island also has a reputation for vacation hookups. He didn’t know about the drinks menu until I told him.” Ashley held up a finger when Laney opened her mouth. “And I told him only when he asked me, because apparently you had brought it up.”

She had. “I wouldn’t have—”

Come on to him. Told him my secret fantasies.