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Stranded With The Navy Seal
Stranded With The Navy Seal
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Stranded With The Navy Seal

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Focus, Starke. Focus on the conversation. “What does he do now?”

“He’s a police officer.”

Logan raised his bottle again.

She moved her straw around in a mix of ice cubes and crushed mint. “So you like ships?”

He shrugged, because he’d never been on a cruise ship before. After spending so much time in tight quarters on military barges, he wouldn’t have chosen this for a vacation. “I was supposed to be working.”

“Doing what?”

Logan couldn’t disclose the specific details. “Guarding someone.”

“A celebrity?”

He made a noncommittal sound. “My client canceled her trip at the last minute, and I was already onboard, all expenses paid.”

“So you decided to stay.”

“Yes.”

Logan had been a Navy SEAL for six years, five of them under President O’Brien. Now O’Brien was a UN dignitary. Secret Service usually provided security to former presidents and their children for a lifetime, so Logan wasn’t sure why SS wasn’t guarding Maya O’Brien. There was some speculation, behind closed doors, that the current POTUS hadn’t signed the protection order for O’Brien’s family.

Either way, Logan had been happy to step in. It was an opportunity to serve a man he respected, and to make a few extra bucks during his time off. Cruising to Tahiti was no hardship. He was still recovering from knee surgery. He’d completed his physical therapy sessions, but he couldn’t return to regular duty for another six weeks. Inactivity drove him crazy. He’d needed a change of scenery.

His current view was spectacular.

Cadence’s phone vibrated on the bar’s surface, indicating a new text. Logan could read the name of the sender: Andrew. She frowned in irritation and turned off the notifications. His protective instincts stirred.

“Someone bothering you?” he asked.

“No one important.”

“Your ex?”

It was a personal question, but she didn’t seem to mind. After a short hesitation, she showed him the conversation. The photo next to the text bubble showed an Asian guy in a pretentious-looking black uniform.

Him: You took a job on a cruise ship? That’s beneath you

Her: You’re beneath me

Him: I wish

Him: I miss you

“He’s a chef, too?” Logan asked.

“A celebrity chef,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Andrew Yu.”

Logan wasn’t impressed. “Sounds like he can’t let go.”

“Well, he’s going to have to, because he cheated. On TV. With his costar.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

He could tell she wasn’t giving Andrew any second chances. She wasn’t a pushover. He liked that. Maybe she was looking for a rebound, a diversion, or a little revenge sex. Logan was happy to be in the right place at the right time. “You should take a picture of us and tell him you’re already on top of someone else.”

She laughed at this suggestion, as if it really appealed to her. She had a sexy laugh, throaty and uninhibited. But she didn’t pose for a photo with him. She tucked her phone into a little black purse and finished her drink in silence.

He hoped he hadn’t blown his chances by being too aggressive. Subtlety wasn’t his strong suit. When he wanted something, he went for it, and he wanted her. He didn’t see any reason to pretend otherwise.

The club’s reggae band launched into a popular Bob Marley song, interrupting the awkward moment. She perked up at the sound.

His knee told him not to, but his mouth said, “Want to dance?”

Chapter 2 (#u17e4ed98-8933-5939-b552-19f14a05f69c)

She’d seen him at the restaurant.

And on the Lido deck. And in the pool, doing laps.

Every woman onboard had seen him. You couldn’t not see a man like that. He was built like a god, with a sculpted physique that made her mouth water. He had broad shoulders and powerful thighs. Abs from a fitness magazine. Even his face looked strong. The female employees already had a nickname for him: Adonis.

Cady had admired his form just this morning, during her workout. The gym’s treadmills overlooked the pool. He swam like a gold medalist. She’d watched his muscles ripple in the glistening water. When he climbed out, she’d studied every inch of his body, including the brace around his knee. The injury didn’t appear to slow him down.

Rumor had it that he’d been cruising the bar last night—and he’d left alone. She hadn’t come here with a specific plan to catch his attention, but she’d mentioned him to her best friend, Deborah, over the phone. Deb had insisted that she put on a sexy dress and try to “look available, but not thirsty.”

Too late. One glance at him and her throat went dry.

Apparently the dress was working its magic, because he’d been staring at her. She’d picked up her phone to play it cool. Which was the opposite of looking available, but she’d been nervous. Andrew’s annoying texts hadn’t helped.

Months after the fallout, his betrayal still stung.

It stung a little less now, in Logan’s company. She couldn’t even feel it, to be honest. She couldn’t feel anything except the heat of his gaze.

He wasn’t handsome like a movie star. Not quite. His nose appeared to have been broken a few times. His jaw was square, and his smile was charmingly off center. He had the outdoorsy look of a football player or a mountain climber. He was at least six feet tall. She marveled at his size as they faced each other on the dance floor. His shoulders took up a lot of space. He was very solid, and...not very graceful.

She smothered a giggle while he shuffled back and forth to the music. She didn’t mind his stiffness. She loved to dance, with or without a good partner. He was fine as hell, just standing there. The way he watched her, as if her simple moves were mesmerizing, made her want to rock with him all night long.

He was wearing tan pants and a white safari-style shirt. Nothing fancy, but his clothes fit well. He had close-cropped brown hair and a clean-cut, no-nonsense vibe. Underneath that tight control was a hint of raw sexuality.

He wasn’t shy.

When the band switched to a slow song, his hands went straight to her hips. She shivered at the contact. She could feel the warm press of his fingertips through the thin fabric of her dress. She could feel his boldness. Their gazes met and held. He had great eyes. Bedroom eyes that traveled up and down her body in a slow caress. They drifted from her mouth to her breasts, as if these were his two favorite places to look. She didn’t blame him for looking. She wanted him to do more than look.

He drew her closer, aligning their lower bodies. Although he was at least six inches taller than her, she was wearing heels, so it wasn’t a mismatch. She twined her arms around his neck. Her breasts met the hard wall of his chest. His hands flexed at her hips, and his arousal swelled against her belly.

Cady had been around this block before. There were always men who got too excited on the dance floor, or those who felt entitled to come up behind her and grind on her without asking. She’d shaken off her share of losers. It was tiresome. Never once had she encountered a stranger’s erection and become weak-kneed with lust.

Until now.

Logan wasn’t exactly a stranger, but they’d met ten minutes ago. They’d shared one conversation and two dances. They were also in public, on the cruise ship where she worked. None of that seemed to matter to her body, which all but melted in his arms. It didn’t matter to her mouth, which let out a soft moan. Her nipples tightened, and her skin tingled with awareness. A greedy pulse throbbed between her legs. She rocked her hips back and forth against him. He groaned in response.

He didn’t grind on her. He gripped her hips as if he wanted to slow her rhythm, or maybe move her up and down on him. But he didn’t actually move her. He continued to sway to the music, holding her close. She traced his shirt collar and felt the warm skin underneath. Then she threaded her fingers through his short hair. Putting her hands on him felt like heaven. She wanted to touch him all over.

Then the song ended.

People clapped.

The band started playing a lively dance hall tune, totally killing the vibe. She felt like she’d been doused with cold water. Logan narrowed his gaze at the stage, as if the musicians had broken some secret guy code.

Cady wasn’t sure what to do. She could either stay on the dance floor, sandwiched against him, or break apart and reveal his very obvious arousal. “Maybe I should turn around,” she said in his ear.

He let out a pained laugh. “I don’t think that will help.”

She did it anyway, twisting in his arms. There was a door nearby that led to the outside deck. He stayed close behind her as she walked toward it. His erection nudged her bottom with every step. It was an awkward exit, but seconds later they were gazing at the dark ocean, sucking in the cool night air.

Then they were both laughing. She collapsed against the rail, giggling. She laughed until her cheeks hurt and her eyes were wet with tears. When she regained control of herself, she hazarded a glance at him. He was staring at her like she was a starry sky, infinite with possibility. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath hitched in her throat. She adjusted her bodice, which had slipped down an inch. He watched her movements with interest.

“It’s the dress, isn’t it?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “It’s not the dress. It’s what’s underneath the dress.”

“Very little,” she admitted.

He groaned, tearing his gaze away. “You’re killing me.”

She grasped the cool aluminum, feeling giddy. She might fly away from happiness and excitement.

Andrew who?

She gave Logan a minute to collect himself. She needed a minute, too. She stared at the moonlit sea, in awe of its immensity. This was her first cruise, her first trip to Tahiti. She’d lived along the coast for years and never seen this much ocean. After a few deep breaths, she turned to face him. He looked calm and in control.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

“You want to go back in?”

He arched a brow. “The problem will surely arise again.”

She laughed at his wry expression. “We can avoid the slow dances.”

He glanced toward the bar. The music sounded too loud now, the lights too bright. Although he didn’t reply, she could read his thoughts. He didn’t want to dance. He wanted to take her to his room. She leaned against the railing, tempted.

“Do you do this a lot?” she asked.

“Do what? Get hard in public?”

She flushed at the blunt words. “Pick up women in bars.”

“I’ve done it before,” he admitted. “You?”

“No.” She wasn’t that kind of girl...or she hadn’t been in the past. But she’d never felt this kind of chemistry before, either. “My friends keep telling me to try new things. Live a little. I always play it safe.”

“Taking a job on a cruise ship isn’t playing it safe. Is it?”

“I guess not.” She didn’t tell him that she’d done it to run away from Andrew, not to embrace adventure.

“You don’t dance like someone who plays it safe.”

She smiled in agreement. Dancing was her escape. It was the only time she felt totally free and uninhibited. When he smiled back at her, her stomach fluttered with awareness. He was incredibly attractive, and clearly into her. His admiration was like a shining beacon, lighting her up from the inside out.

She was tempted to leave with him. Her gaze lowered to his hands, which were wrapped around the railing next to her. He had nice hands, with wide palms and long fingers. No ring. “Are you married?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “No,” he said. “Hell no.”

She flushed at his response, aware that her question revealed a distrust of men. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and brought up his Facebook page. It showed a picture of him in combat gear. Relationship status: single.

“You said you were in the navy.”

“That’s right.”

“Are you a sailor?”

“I’m a SEAL.”

It was her turn to gape at him. “You’re a Navy SEAL?”

He put his phone away, shrugging. “I’m on injury leave right now, but yeah.”

“How did you get injured?”

His eyes became shuttered. “I tore a ligament in my knee.”

She was curious about the details, but his expression told her not to press. He probably couldn’t share confidential information. He hadn’t told her who he was supposed to be guarding on this cruise. The fact that he was a Navy SEAL set off major warning bells for her. His job was the epitome of danger.

Cady was risk-averse, for good reason. She was the daughter of a police officer. Her grandfather had died in a tragic accident right before her eyes. She’d developed a strong sense of caution as a child, and it seemed to grow stronger every year. She liked to feel secure at all times. She never drank to excess. She always wore her seat belt.

Logan wasn’t the kind of man she would normally choose to date. He was too intense. He did terrifying things in the name of their country. Things she didn’t want to imagine. On the other hand, this wasn’t a date. This was a chance encounter. After the cruise was over, she’d never see him again. He might not be steady boyfriend material, but he was an excellent candidate for a night of pleasure.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” he said. “If you want to stay and dance, I’m game.”

“No.”

His face fell. “No?”