Navy Seal To The Rescue. Tawny Weber

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СКАЧАТЬ He’s a policeman. He should do police work, shouldn’t he?”

      “The cops didn’t see anything.”

      “The police are wrong.” Lila shot him a sideways glance that was as close as she could get to a sneer. “And you’re wrong, too.”

      “I’m wrong. The police are wrong. Everyone’s wrong but you. Sweetheart, you take the cake.”

      She wanted to tell him where to shove the cake, but she managed to smile instead.

      “I didn’t imagine seeing a man killed.”

      “Okay.”

      That agreeably sarcastic tone was different, and the single word wasn’t what she was used to hearing. But the subtext? Oh, Lila knew every word. She was an expert on arrogance and well-versed in patronizing disdain.

      Her fists clenched so tight her hands shook. She knew it was pointless. There was no reasoning with that subtext. Nothing she said would matter. But she still couldn’t keep herself from snapping.

      “How can you guys blow this off? What kind of men just dismiss murder? Just shrug off a man being shot and killed? Somebody took Chef Rodriguez’s life and you just stand there, giving me that I’m so perfect sneer. What the hell is your problem?”

      “If I’m perfect, I doubt I’d have any problems.”

      “I didn’t say you were perfect,” she corrected meticulously, ignoring the tickle in her belly that argued that if looks were anything to go by, he had perfection down pat. “I said you think that you’re perfect. And some might say that you think incorrectly.”

      “Is that any way to talk to the man who gave up his quiet evening to ride to your rescue?”

      “You were swinging in a hammock.”

      “Yet another example of my perfection. With no preparation or warning, I was able to effect a clean op, mount a rescue and end the mission without incident.” He grinned. “Besides, I was swinging pretty damned quietly.”

      “Who the hell are you?” she snapped, squeezing the fingers of her left hand, releasing, and squeezing again.

      “Me?” He shrugged, the movement making the muscles of his chest and shoulder ripple. “Just a guy on vacation.”

      “No. That policeman called you a hotshot. What he’d said about you thinking you can handle things better than the cops, what’d that mean?”

      “Civilians sometimes get pissy when dealing with guys with Special Ops training.”

      Special Ops training?

      “What branch?” she choked out.

      “SEALs,” he said, giving her a curious look.

      Lila could only shake her head.

      No freaking way.

      Mr. Tall, Sexy and Gorgeous was a SEAL? A Navy SEAL?

      With her luck, he’d served on the same team as her brother. Probably the same squad. He’d have met her father, been honored by one of Adrian the elder’s kiss-ass dinner parties. Even, God help her, golfed at the club.

      Tears—as much from fury and frustration as from self-pity—burned her eyes.

      The events of the day won, she decided.

      She couldn’t take any more.

      Her legs were wonky. Too wonky to hold her up any longer. Uncaring that it was the same spot she’d seen a body fall, she dropped to the floor and wrapped her arms around her torso, hoping the pressure would hold in the pain.

      * * *

      Seriously?

      She was going to fall apart now?

      Right here, on the floor where she thought she’d witnessed a murder?

      Striding over to the tiny refrigerator in the corner, Travis shook his head. He’d never understand women. She’d thrown herself at him, all but climbing inside his skin.

      Not that he had much problem with that, he decided in retrospect. She’d fit damned nice, and all that hair of hers was a silky temptation.

      He yanked open the wobbly door of the stained appliance and grabbed a water. Twisting off the cap, he walked back and held it out, waiting in silence.

      Lila shifted so her head was resting against the wall instead of on her drawn-up knees. The movement threw her face into sharp relief, the flickering overhead light angling down, accenting that full mouth, with its slight overbite. The curve of her cheekbones and the deep hollows beneath. She’d closed her eyes so her thick lashes fanned out over those cheeks, giving her a look of vulnerability that tugged at his gut.

      Then she pulled in one long, deep breath that made her blouse slide temptingly across her full breasts.

      And he got a tug a little south of his gut.

      Then she did it again.

      And Travis realized that yes, indeed, bum knee or not, he was alive and well.

      By her third breath, he had to suck in one of his own.

      He wasn’t the kind of guy who liked to see people fall apart—especially women. But it was pure pleasure to watch her pull herself together.

      Still, enough was enough.

      “You got a grip on yourself yet?”

      “What?” When those lashes fluttered open, her eyes were fogged with confusion and pain.

      “Just checking. Are you finished with that meltdown?”

      “Meltdown?” she snapped, pushing to her feet. She slammed her hands on her hips while her face curved in fury. She had a wicked glare, one he figured would cut a lesser man to the quick. But his ego was made of steel.

      So he just grinned.

      “Yeah. You were crying and babbling and seeing things. In my book, that reads like a meltdown.”

      “I saw a man killed,” she said, each word clipped and precise. “I heard the bullet, the sound of it piercing his flesh. I watched his body fly backward, bleeding and ripped. I heard men cussing before one of them aimed that same gun at me.”

      She stepped forward and poked a sharp finger into his chest.

      “So if I had a meltdown according to your stupid book, then I figure I’m due.”

      Damn.

      Travis couldn’t stop smiling.

      Well, what d’ya know, he realized with surprise, downing the water she’d ignored. As the icy liquid poured down his throat, he gave thanks.

      Because, oh, yeah. He still had a libido.

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