A SEAL's Seduction. Tawny Weber

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СКАЧАТЬ her shoulders bare, the turquoise pleats barely skimming the tips of her breasts before draping to midthigh. Her legs were bare. Yards of silky golden leg stretched between the bottom of her dress and skyscraper heels.

      “So,” she said after a long pause, her voice a little breathless. He wondered where her mental trip had taken her. And what kind of games it’d included. And if he’d been there. Maybe naked.

      “So,” she said again, clearing her throat then giving him a bright, friendly but not flirty smile. “What brings you to a club like this? It doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”

      “Why not?”

      “This is navyland,” she said, waving her hand around the room. “Soldiers and sailors, this is their hangout. Most guys avoid it unless they’re stationed at Coronado.”

      Blake frowned into his beer before taking a drink.

      “You don’t think I belong here?”

      He didn’t know how to take that. He’d joined the navy the day after he’d graduated high school, and had found his home. His place in the world. With the SEALs, he’d found family. He’d never wanted to be anything else.

      “Oh, I don’t know. You’ve got the body and the, well, energy, to be a sailor boy,” she said, her tone still teasing as she gave him a slow once-over. Her big brown eyes slid from his face and down his body. Proving he was alive and doing damn well, his body stirred in reaction. Hardened.

      “But?” he prodded when her eyes stayed a little too long on his jeans. A few more seconds and she was going to be seeing a whole different terrain down there.

      “But you don’t have that bravado I usually associate with soldiers,” she said a little breathlessly, looking into his eyes again.

      “Bravado, hmm? Is that a requirement, something they issue along with the uniform?” He grinned. Maybe Cade was right. Maybe he was burned out. He liked the sound of that better than wallowing in grief. Whatever it was, he kinda liked that Alexia didn’t know he was a sailor. With her, he wasn’t Lieutenant Landon, decorated Navy SEAL, radioman, linguist and teammate. He wasn’t a finely honed weapon, a highly trained warrior. He wasn’t a military paycheck, or a score to be notched.

      He was just a man.

      That was so damn appealing.

      “I think bravado is intrinsic,” she decided. “It either fits, or it doesn’t. But a uniform probably helps.”

      “And you like the uniform?” Figured. Most women did. Most women didn’t even look past it. Plenty of guys didn’t care. Whatever bait worked, they reeled ’em in. Blake was pickier than that, though. And oddly deflated to think that Alexia wasn’t.

      The bartender delivered a fresh drink and took the empty. Blake nodded his thanks and lifted the bottle, ready to wash some of the bitterness off his tongue.

      “I’m not a fan, actually.”

      Thirst forgotten, Blake slowly lowered his beer. Not a fan? Seriously?

      Seeing his shock, she grinned. “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate our servicemen and women. They are amazing. But when it comes to relationships, I’d rather steer clear.”

      “Relationships?” He pulled a face. Women always used that word. What it meant was sex with a soldier—and let’s face it, SEALs did everything, including sex, better. Or a golden ticket to a soldier’s paycheck and benefits without the day-to-day work of being a wife.

      Blake realized that this was probably the first time since he’d enlisted that he’d had a flirt going on with a woman who was only focused on him. Not the SEAL thrill. Yeah, this just-being-a-man thing was wildly appealing. He didn’t consider it a lie not to tell her he was navy. She’d made the assumption, after all. He was just letting her go with it.

      “Yes, relationships.” She laughed, bringing him back to the conversation. “I’m a fan of the concept.”

      How much of a fan? A groupie type? A desperately chase-after-it type? Blake frowned. Was she in one? Would she be here if she was? You never knew with women. He debated asking. The problem was, once that discussion door was open, it went both ways.

      “But most women here,” she continued, waving her hand again to encompass the loud club. “They’re all about the goal, not the relationship.”

      “What’s the goal?”

      “Fishing. They’re here to fish for sailors,” she said, shifting closer so she didn’t have to shout the words. Close enough that her body heat wrapped around him, her scent filled his head with the image of sun, surf and sex. “Some, like Blondie, are catch and release. Others are looking for a keeper.”

      “That’s awfully cynical,” he observed, laughing even though her words echoed his own thoughts. “Aren’t you women supposed to stick together? You know, group bathroom trip, the girl code, the secret sisterhood?”

      Dark eyes dancing, Alexia leaned closer. Blake almost held his breath so as not to be tempted by her scent. Coconut, spices, just a hint of something floral and purely female. Then he remembered he was a solider. A navy SEAL, for crying out loud. He was brave enough to deal with sexy.

      “Oh, believe me, if she was a friend I’d be distracting you while she slid that hook into your mouth,” she assured him with a laugh. “But tonight, you look like you could use someone on your side.”

      Nonplussed, Blake stared. And saw the sympathy in her eyes. As if she’d seen into his soul and wanted to soothe the pain there.

      God, he was a mess. When had he lost it? Blake had been captured by the enemy once. They’d been furious with his implacable refusal to show emotion or reveal information. But tonight all it took was three beers, and a sexy redhead could read his secrets?

      He figured he had three options. Say goodbye and walk away before she delved any deeper. Open up and share the confused emotions tangled in his gut. Or distract her.

      But he never gave up, and he wasn’t into sharing. So option three was it.

      “Which category do you fall into?” he asked, giving in to the need that’d been gnawing at him since that afternoon and reaching out to touch her. Just the ends of her hair, like silken heat between the tips of his fingers.

      “I don’t think I can be categorized,” she murmured. “It’s too easy to be dismissed once a label’s been posted, isn’t it?”

      Beautiful, sexy and smart? She might as well be wearing a sign proclaiming her dangerous territory.

      A woman this perceptive was better to hustle along as quickly as possible. When a man’s defenses were down, it was smart to keep the threats to a minimum. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cade and a group of SEALs saunter into the club. Now that his teammates were here, she’d find out he was navy soon enough. Still, Blake figured it was better to hurry her along before he was tempted to do something stupid.

      “Everyone can be categorized. The only question is, are you in the catch-and-release group?” he asked quietly. “Or are you looking for a keeper? And if it’s not the uniform that gets your attention, what’s a guy got to show? His bank statement?”

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