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It was going to take stronger measures, Alexia realized. Warning her girlie parts not to get too excited, she moved in close, draping her arm over the broad muscles of Blake’s shoulders. He was like steel. Solid, strong, sleek. Her mouth watered. To give it something to do before she actually drooled, she leaned forward to brush a friendly kiss over his cheek. He smelled like the ocean. Clean, salty, intoxicating.
“He’s with me,” she said, giving the blonde a go-away tilt of her head.
“He’s not wearing a ring.”
Alexia’s expression didn’t change. All she did was curve her hand over Blake’s shoulder. Possession. Then she leaned her body closer to his. Whether he knew what she was doing or he was preparing to use her for a shield, he wrapped his own arm around her waist, pulling her tight to his side.
Desire sent her body into a tailspin at his touch. Warm tingles swirled, heating her nipples to pebbled warmth before trickling down to her belly. Because he was sitting on the bar stool and she was standing, his head was level with her shoulder. All it would take was for him to turn his head and his lips could brush her nipples.
Alexia had to force her breath to steady, her vision to clear. She couldn’t do anything about the damp heat between her thighs as her girlie parts did a happy dance, though.
“Like I said,” Alexia repeated as soon as she knew her voice was steady, “he’s with me.”
Proving that brains and bleach weren’t mutually exclusive, the barracuda hissed through a smile clenched so tight her jaw had to ache, then shrugged.
“Fine. You two have fun,” she said. Flicking a challenging look at Alexia, she leaned against Blake, pressing so tight her silicone squished out the sides of her tank top. She sank both hands into the sides of his neck, pulled his head down and slapped a slurpy wet kiss on his shocked mouth.
“Just in case you change your mind,” the blonde said when she released him.
Grinding her teeth, Alexia almost reached over Blake’s shoulder and smacked the smile off the blonde’s face. Whether it was just her nature, or a by-product of the red hair, anger was an emotion she visited daily. But jealousy was brand-new to her. Trying to tamp down the green-eyed gnawing fury in her belly, she decided it wasn’t one she liked.
Still, her fingers curled into a fist and her eyes narrowed as she sized up the other woman. At five-ten and dedicated to her gym membership, Alexia was pretty sure she could take her.
“I guess I’ll join my friends now,” the blonde said, looking a little afraid.
Subliminal messaging at its best.
Realizing that she still had her hand fisted, Alexia took a deep, calming breath and relaxed her fingers. Then, because she really needed the rest of her body to relax, too, she shifted away from Blake. Touching him was anything but calming. It took another deep breath before she had enough control to put on a friendly expression and walk around to face him.
“Thanks,” he muttered, shaking his head as he watched Blondie sashay away. Like if he took his eyes off her before she’d reached a safe distance, she might ricochet back and plaster herself all over his body. “She wasn’t interested in hearing no.”
“It’s a hard word for some people to accept,” Alexia agreed with a grimace, thinking of her dinner date. “I spent most of my upbringing trying to get people to listen when I said no. Or yes. Or anything, actually.”
She tried to laugh away her discomfort at oversharing. Communication was important. But it was a two-way street, not a one-way emotional dump. Blake didn’t look uncomfortable, though. More...curious.
“You don’t seem like a wimp to me,” he said after a long contemplation.
“Well, aren’t you the sweet talker,” she said, both amused and relieved. Not that she figured on tossing him over her shoulder and carrying him off to have her wicked way with his body or anything—mostly because he was too heavy to carry. But she’d hate to think that she was on par with the barracuda when it came to scaring guys off.
“Sweet talk is a game, isn’t it?” he said. Then he shrugged. “I don’t play games.”
Ooh. Intriguing. If his sexy body hadn’t already caught her interest, the idea of finding out if he was for real—or if that statement was simply a game in itself—would have hooked her for sure.
“That must be tough, being a nongame kind of guy in an arena like this.” She twirled her fingers, indicating the lights, the bar, the bodies. “In here, like in life, almost everyone is playing a game of some kind.”
He looked around the bar, his expression blank. Just a little lost. As if he wasn’t sure how he’d got there. Alexia’s heart clenched. He was so wounded. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and pull him close. Let him rest his head on her breasts while she combed her fingers through his dark hair.
Her nipples tightened as if preparing for just that.
What’d happened that he felt so much pain? Maybe if she got him talking, he’d open up. Let it out so he could start healing.
Radiating damp heat and fresh off the dance floor, a guy tried to get past her to order a drink. Alexia wedged herself between Blake’s body and the bar stool. Now it wasn’t the music throbbing through her body. It was desire, hot, intense and needy. Nothing wrong with that. She was a red-blooded woman with a healthy appreciation for her sexuality. Didn’t mean she was going to act on it.
Maybe.
* * *
BLAKE WATCHED the sexy redhead closely, mulling over her comment. He didn’t like to think of himself as a game player. But she was right. Everyone probably did play games in one way or another. Hell, the military called them war games. A test, pitting man against man. Even man against himself. The endurance and strength training, weren’t those games of sorts?
And the mental gyrations he’d been playing before the blonde had tried to dig her lethal claws into him. It’d be a game, pure and simple, trying to convince himself that he’d exaggerated Alexia’s impact in his mind. That she wasn’t as sexy, as gorgeous, as appealing as he remembered.
But now that she was standing in front of him again? She had the same impact as an unexpected fist to the gut. Shocking, intense and demanding an instant response.
Her personality was as bubbly as her looks. Fiery curls, golden skin and molten dark eyes topped a body that made a man want to get on his knees to offer thanks...among other things.
The memory of her body, each and every delicious curve of it highlighted by tiny scraps of purple fabric, was etched in his mind. So he didn’t begrudge the loose fit of her dress, high at the neck but leaving 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?”
There. That should piss her off. Blake sipped his beer with only a little regret that he was driving away what could have been the most incredible encounter of his life.
3 (#ulink_e5614986-1ca5-543a-82a3-c59327ca3754)
HER TEMPER WAS A WORK OF ART. First Alexia’s eyes flashed dark fire. Then they narrowed as if she was contemplating where she wanted to punch him. Blake didn’t bother to steel his core. He deserved the hit, and he’d take it full on. After all, that’d been a cheap shot.
“C’mon,” she said, tilting her head toward the exit.
Not sure he’d heard her right, Blake frowned in confusion as she wriggled between him, the bar stool and the three guys blocking her way.
Blake’s groan was lost in the noise of the club. With her in heels, her lips were within kissing distance of his. Her breasts, full and soft under that flowy dress, skimmed, just barely, his chest. He knew it wasn’t deliberate. He’d been hit on enough to tell. But it was the sexiest move he’d ever felt.
“C’mon,” she said again, this time waving her fingers in a let’s-go gesture.
Still baffled, but with the rational side of his brain sputtering due to the feel of her breasts sliding like white heat against his chest, Blake followed. His eyes on the sway of her hips as he headed for the door, he didn’t lose sight of her even as he took a short side trip to where his friends were waiting.
“I’m outta here,” he said, tilting his head toward Alexia’s back.
Cade followed his gesture, gave an impressed arch of his brows and a thumbs-up.
“Glad to see you’re using your time wisely,” he said with a grin before heading toward the heart of the club noise to party it up in his usual style.
Blake didn’t worry about blowing off his buddy. And given that the lieutenant commander was wearing a T-shirt that claimed Navy SEALs Don’t Make Deals, he didn’t feel bad about not making introductions, either.
He did, briefly, think joining Cade and the rest of the guys might be smarter than following Alexia outside. Those guys were trained to have his back. But some missions just had to be done solo.
Stepping out the club doors into the warm night air, he gave himself a second to adjust to the lack of noise. Nothing better than silence, with a little ocean music, to set a chewing-out to.
Alexia stood toward the end of the building, where the wooden walkway curved toward the ocean. Hands fisted at her hips, she sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing fire.
“You sure you want to tear me down for the insult privately?” he asked before she could say anything. He flashed his most charming smile to indicate that he knew he had it coming and wouldn’t protest her angry retaliation. “Don’t you want witnesses?”
“Actually, I figured you needed a little air. You know, to clear the testosterone idiocy out of your head before you said anything even stupider.” Then, the fury clearing from her eyes, she laughed.
Laughed? Where had the anger gone? She was like mercury, changing so fast he could barely keep up.
Damned if that wasn’t tempting. She was sexy and fun, with so much energy he felt alive again. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to, though. Maybe it’d be smarter to turn heel and go back into the club. Or, he fingered the keys in his pocket, hop in his truck and drive away.
“Not that you don’t deserve a little teardown,” she continued with a shrug that highlighted well-toned shoulders and the golden glow she’d got at the beach that morning. “But I figure a guy smart enough to know he’s made an asinine comment is smart enough to not make it without a reason.”
Huh? Blake rocked back on his heels, trying to figure that one out.
“I got too close, right?” she guessed. “You’re upset about something and here I come, a total stranger, poking and prodding like I have the right to peek into your privacy. So you slapped me back. That’s natural.”
“Are you for real?”
“Why? Because I didn’t have a hissy fit?” She tilted her head to one side, her curls bouncing around her face. “Do you think women are that easily categorized?”
“I think this is where I got in trouble,” Blake mused. He still wasn’t buying the no-games line. But he was intrigued enough to want to see if she could change his mind. “Want to walk?”
She gave him a narrow look, then glanced at the tiny boardwalk leading to the beach. Smart women didn’t wander off with strangers, so he didn’t take offense. But since there was a party going on along the beach, it looked like a wedding or something, she must have decided there were enough numbers for safety.
She gave him a considering look. As if she was debating something beyond safety. For a second she looked as though she might think he had the potential to haul an ax out of his back pocket. Then she lifted her chin and offered a bright smile.
“Sure.”
