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A SEAL's Secret
Tawny Weber


Subject: Lt. Commander Mitch "Irish" DonovanHis Mission: Babysit a fitness queen with a hands-on approach!Navy SEAL Mitch Donovan always plays to win. The push-up contest at the Halloween party should have been a piece of cake. Except that the cake in question is a hot woman dressed as a delicious dessert. Now the only exercise on Mitch's mind is restraint…Livi Kane may be The Body Babe, but she has zero confidence. This hunky SEAL, however, makes her forget everything–except for a workout involving his hot, naked bod and a whole lot of sexy, sweaty delight. But Mitch has his secrets–and Livi certainly has hers. All it will take is one unexpected encounter to turn this steamy attraction into an even bigger secret that will start showing any day now…







Subject: Lt. Commander Mitch “Irish” Donovan

His Mission: Babysit a fitness queen with a hands-on approach!

Navy SEAL Mitch Donovan always plays to win. The push-up contest at the Halloween party should have been a piece of cake. Except that the cake in question is a hot woman dressed as a delicious dessert. Now the only exercise on Mitch’s mind is restraint...

Livi Kane may be The Body Babe, but she has zero confidence. This hunky SEAL, however, makes her forget everything—except for a workout involving his hot, naked bod and a whole lot of sexy, sweaty delight. But Mitch has his secrets—and Livi certainly has hers. All it will take is one unexpected encounter to turn this steamy attraction into an even bigger secret that will start showing any day now...


Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Tawny Weber (#ulink_b53d4a88-55f3-53b5-a988-f5d084d25a1c)

“Forget the hot chocolate, the wool socks and the space heater—Tawny Weber’s Sex, Lies and Mistletoe will keep you plenty warm this season.”

—USA TODAY

“Fiery hot sex scenes, strong characters and exciting action make this one of the best stories in the Uniformly Hot! miniseries—and one of the best Blaze reads.”

—RT Book Reviews on

A SEAL’s Seduction

“A fun, sexy tale that will have you laughing at Eden’s antics as well as fantasizing about what it would be like to have Cade all to yourself, A SEAL’s Surrender is a sizzling hit.”

—Romance Reviews Today

“A SEAL’s Salvation is a new selection in the Uniformly Hot! miniseries and earns its place there with sizzlling sex scenes, a blazing hot bad boy turned decorated hero, and a heroine who finds her own strength while helping our troubled alpha.”

—Night Owl Reviews

“Blistering hot, Sex, Lies and Valentines...is a witty, sensual contemporary romantic suspense that readers will find impossible to put down until they reach the delightful ending.”

—Romance Junkies

“Tawny Weber certainly knows how to pen delicious stories, filled with heat, humour and lovable characters. Sex, Lies and Midnight proves again that you cannot go wrong with a Tawny Weber tale.”

—CataRomance


Dear Reader (#ulink_9f4e9495-8e9b-5a6c-96df-acbe33b78974),

I love the holidays, so it was extra fun to visit a few of them in this story, beginning with Halloween. It just seemed right that we kick off with treat time! And boy, oh boy, is Mitch Donovan a treat. I adore these sexy SEALs and Mitch’s new-kid-on-the-block status with the team makes him even more interesting to get to know. Especially for Livi Kane, aka The Body Babe. Who better for a military machine than a fitness queen?

One of the benefits of writing this book was it inspired a great need to exercise! I’m fond of fitness as a rule, but tend to keep it on the as-I-get-to-it level. But Livi’s approach is stuck in my head now so I might have to step up my game. Of course, it’d be easier with a great fitness instructor leading the way, right?

As fitting for the most romantic month of the year, my favorite scene in the story takes place on Valentine’s Day. I hope your Valentine’s Day is a fabulous one, and that you enjoy Livi and Mitch’s journey through their holidays.

And if you’re on the web, I’ll be sharing Livi’s pasta recipe on my website, and insider peeks into this story and others. Stop by my website at tawnyweber.com (http://tawnyweber.com/) or find me on Facebook at facebook.com/tawnyweber.romanceauthor (https://www.facebook.com/TawnyWeber.RomanceAuthor).

Happy reading!

Tawny Weber


A SEAL’s Secret

Tawny Weber






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


A New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of over thirty hot books, TAWNY WEBER has been writing sassy, sexy romances since her first Mills & Boon Blaze book was published in 2007. A fan of Johnny Depp, cupcakes and color coordination, she spends a lot of her time shopping for cute shoes, scrapbooking and hanging out on Facebook.

Readers can check out Tawny’s books at her website, tawnyweber.com, or join her Red Hot Readers Club for goodies like free reads, complete first-chapter excerpts, recipes, insider story info and much more. Look for her on Facebook at facebook.com/tawnyweber.romanceauthor. (https://www.facebook.com/TawnyWeber.RomanceAuthor)


To Melyssa with big hugs and so much love!

Thank you for naming Morgan.


Contents

Cover (#u1daae4a6-3554-5889-b0c1-f244324f3f37)

Back Cover Text (#u3d2d955d-f05f-517b-adce-0eaa2dab2a45)

Praise (#ulink_b53d4a88-55f3-53b5-a988-f5d084d25a1c)

Dear Reader (#ulink_545098f0-e360-5240-a06f-888b423c575b)

Title Page (#u5b8f4c60-1a5b-59d1-aa05-bcfa47f50943)

About the Author (#u8e77b196-9947-5bc1-af7d-efe33049dd1e)

Dedication (#ud7a2064e-2151-5844-ac26-4445cd47127d)

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2 (#ulink_883d8533-0602-531c-8e21-cc9f5285e1b4)

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Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


1 (#ulink_c3d3b661-d61f-5b5d-9280-43fd0a848480)

Halloween

“MY, OH, MY, talk about temptation. A room filled with sexy sailors, an abundance of alcohol and deliciously fattening food.”

Olivia Kane cast an appreciative look around Olive Oyl’s, the posh yet funky bar that catered to the local naval base and locals alike. She loved the view of the various temptations, even though she knew she wouldn’t be indulging in any.

Not that she didn’t want to.

She’d love nothing more than to dive into a forty-ounce margarita and chow down on a plate of fully loaded nachos. But her career hinged on her body being in prime condition, so she’d long ago learned to resist empty calories.

And the sexy sailors?

One of those, she wouldn’t mind indulging in. Livi barely kept from pouting. She was pretty sure a wild bout with a yummy military hunk would do amazing things for her body, too.

It wasn’t willpower that kept her from indulging in that particular temptation, though. It was shyness, pure and simple.

But it was Halloween—time for make-believe. And tonight, she was going to pretend she was the kind of woman who had the nerve to hit on a sailor, to throw caution to the wind and do wildly sexy things without caring about tomorrow.

As if hearing her thoughts, Livi’s companion nudged her arm.

“Look, it’s like a roomful of kids trick-or-treating,” Tessa drawled. Livi glanced at her best friend as the brunette looked around the bar, humming warmly. The sound was at odds with her halo and fluffy white wings.

Livi laughed. “Sure, if you replace candy with tasty men, and swap kids with horny women out for fun, of course.”

“Mmm, no. Not my flavor,” Tessa said dismissively, despite her sexy wink at the guy staring at her. Tessa flirted like some women breathed, but she had no interest in military men. “I don’t mind indulging your sweet tooth for a while. I’m sure I’ll find something to my liking later.”

Later, meaning after she’d humored Livi’s foray into window-shopping through fantasyland. And Livi knew Tessa wouldn’t pressure or berate her for dragging her to a sailor bar where Livi would only sit around mooning over hotties like a high school wallflower before going home alone. Or worse, feeling guilty enough to go with Tessa to her club of choice to watch her flick men off like flies until she found one that interested her.

The petite powerhouse always managed to boil everything down to her favorite common denominator...sex. She did it with a wickedly confident smile and an air of assurance that was probably just as enticing as her curvy body and sultry looks.

Tessa was exactly the kind of woman Livi wished she could be. Oh, they were alike in some ways. Both were fit, smart and savvy. They had tons in common—like Tessa, Livi spoke her mind. She didn’t hesitate to talk about the sexy side of life with its myriad pleasures and delights. But unlike her friend, none of that came naturally to her. Hey, neither did one-armed planks, and she’d trained herself to do those.

Livi always thought she’d done a decent job training herself to ignore her shyness, too. She didn’t let her discomfort keep her from doing her job—and given the job she had, that was saying a lot.

Dubbed The Body Babe at twenty, she’d built her initial reputation as a fitness instructor and personal trainer. Certified by ACE, ACSM and AFAA, Livi had a degree in exercise science with a minor in nutrition and had started with dreams of training athletes. That she’d ended up as one of the biggest names in the world of personal training, the founder of Stripped Down Fitness and the star of the Fit To Be Naked videos and training programs wasn’t because of her body, and had nothing to do with ambition. She owed all that to her ex-manager absconding with investor funds, leaving her financially screwed. That he was also her ex-husband had been the icing on the cake.

Instead of breaking, as she’d known he’d figured she would, Livi had pulled up her spandex, tightened the laces on her sneakers and rebuilt her career. She’d had a lot of help—yes, including that of strippers. She’d ended up with the Fit To Be Naked program and a reputation as the woman with an ass that bounced quarters and a wicked way with a stripper pole, and she’d made it work.

So it wasn’t that she had an issue with sex. Livi loved sex. Once she got to know someone, she was totally comfortable with the subject. And if she hadn’t been, the last year spent training, taping and touring with burlesque strippers would have cured that.

More than curing it, Livi had come to realize how much she wanted what they had. Exotic, erotic, pleasure-filled experiences. Relationships, one-nighters, hot times. She no longer had any illusions about love or happy-ever-after. But dammit, she wanted hot sex.

She wanted to find a gorgeous guy, haul him into a quiet corner and see just how hard the Navy made those bodies.

Which was why she was here, she reminded herself. Since trying to pretend her shyness wasn’t an issue hadn’t been getting her anywhere, she’d decided to try a different tactic. To simply get the hell over it.

Because she wasn’t going to have a great sex life until she did.

So she’d approached her shyness the same way she’d have handled the weight loss of a recalcitrant client. She researched her options, made a list, worked out a schedule and incrementally pushed herself a little more day by day.

Which brought her to tonight.

A fun evening of socializing and maybe a little flirting, with the built-in reward of meeting hot guys who could inspire her fantasies until she was ready for actual sex again. And nobody, but nobody, inspired fantasies like sailors did.

And where better to indulge than in the safety of her aunt’s bar?

Anticipation zinging through her system, eyes eager for their treats, she scanned the bar, which was filled shoulder-to-shoulder with costumed partiers. After a few seconds and another scan, Livi frowned.

“Where are the Navy hunks?” she wondered, shifting to her tiptoes to see if they were on the other side of the room. At an inch under six feet, she usually didn’t have to even stretch her neck to see over most people. But apparently vertical was the theme of this year’s Halloween costumes. And while there were a few guys who were obviously sailors, they weren’t the yummy kind.

“This bites,” she said. “I was so excited for tonight, and now I feel like I got an apple in my trick-or-treat bag.”

“And you were looking for a banana?”

Livi laughed then nudged her friend. “C’mon. Maybe we’ll find something better on the other side of the bar.”

“After pushing through the mob to get this far? No way. Why don’t you wave or something to get your aunt’s attention. She’ll know where the treats are. Maybe she can ring that ship’s bell of hers and call them in.”

The bell? But everyone would stare at them.

The very thought made her skin crawl. But that’s why she was here, Livi reminded herself. Just another opportunity to overcome the debilitating chokehold shyness had on her.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and reminded herself she made her living by being stared at. This was no different. It only took her a couple of deep breaths to believe it.

Then with a few murmured apologies, Livi angled herself from her left side to her right through the crowd, pushing her way to the front of the bar. Not an easy task for a woman dressed like a Twinkie. But after a second she caught sight of her aunt’s distinctive blue Mohawk.

The older woman jerked her thumb toward a drunk, obviously telling him to get the hell out. The guy was twice her size, but none of her bartenders provided backup. They didn’t need to. Nobody messed with Roz. Livi wished that kind of thing were genetic. But search as she might, Livi couldn’t find a grain of that sort of confidence in her DNA code.

It wasn’t just Roz’s looks, although her hair added a good six inches to the slender woman’s already impressive height. Nor was it the array of tattoos snaking down her body. Nope, it was authority. Roz exuded it like Tessa exuded sex appeal.

Livi wondered what she exuded. Yawns, most likely.

“Livi!”

She winced when everyone within earshot—and given that Roz was pretty loud, that was a lot of people—turned to stare. Livi pasted on her public smile, ignored the buzzing in her ears and offered her aunt a finger-wiggling wave.

She turned to ask Tessa what she wanted to drink before Roz got there, but her friend was plastered up against a guy wearing a toreador costume, listening as he whispered something in her ear. From the wicked grin on her face, the something was pretty naughty.

“Livi, I didn’t think you’d make it,” Roz said as she skirted around the bar to give her niece a hug. Not an easy feat given how wide Livi’s costume was. Roz stepped back to give her a frowning once-over. “A body like yours, what the hell are you doing dressed like that?”

“Halloween is about the fantasy,” Livi explained. “My fantasy is junk food. Since I can’t eat it, I figured I’d dress like a Twinkie and be it.”

And then there was the cream filling. Her hard, rocking body hadn’t inspired any guys to push past her inhibitions and see what she had going on inside. But maybe tonight the subliminal message of her costume would.

“Hey, Roz,” Tessa called over Livi’s shoulder.

After a few minutes of small talk, her aunt said she had to get back to work. Livi looked around for a comfy barstool to perch on, but Roz had other ideas.

“Now, you girls head to the back room,” Roz said, giving Livi a hug as she issued the order. “You can crash the private party there—tell them I sent you. It’s quieter, less crowded.”

“But I came to see you,” Livi protested through a mouth that had gone dry at the words crash and private party.

“You came to drool over the frogs,” Roz said dismissively, referring to the Navy combat divers who frequented her bar. “And you will see me. Later. My relief bartender gets here in twenty minutes, we’ll visit then.”

Livi wrinkled her nose. Roz always had her pegged, which surprised them both, given that Livi had never met—or even known of—her aunt until two years ago.

“In the meantime...” Roz reached behind them. “I need your help with a party in the back room.”

Oh, no. Helping with a party meant facing tons of people. Strange people. Ones she’d never met before.

“Here. Take this with you,” she said, handing Livi a foil-covered tray, then giving a second one to Tessa. “You can pretend you’re a waitress if it helps.”

Livi reluctantly took the tray and the dismissal, even as her mind raced with excuses to get out of going.

“I could really use the help,” Roz added. “I’m short-staffed and it’s crazy in here.”

“I’m not crashing a party. I’ll just deliver the food then meet you back here.” Knowing the only thing Tessa disliked more than military guys was serving food, Livi gestured toward the tray in her friend’s hand. “I can take yours, too, if you want to stay here and enjoy the view.”

“You’ll change your mind once you see the party,” Roz predicted.

“Yummy?” Tessa asked.

“Delicious,” Roz confirmed.

“I’m there,” Tessa purred, proving once again she didn’t have to be interested in partaking to appreciate the view. “C’mon, Livi. Tastiness awaits.”

This was why she was here, wasn’t it? And playing waitress was the perfect out if it was overwhelming. With that little pep talk and a deep breath, Livi maneuvered her spongy goodness toward the back and prepared to be social.

“Stay close,” Livi instructed as she wrapped her free hand around Tessa’s so they didn’t get separated as they pushed through the crowd.

They barely made it halfway across the room when she felt Tessa slow down. Livi glanced over to see her friend had gone into full-on flirt mode. Hair was being tossed. Her eyes were glittering and her smile had taken on a wicked glint.

“Target spotted,” Tessa said, making as if to break away.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Livi said, laughing as she tugged Tessa along. She used her Twinkie bulk to push through the bodies, pulling her friend in her wake. “You’re crashing this party with me, remember? I’m sure there are plenty of men in there for you to choose from.”

“Yeah, okay. He had a small dick, anyway,” Tessa said as they reached the hall leading to the private section of the bar.

Her hand on the doorknob, Livi threw a frown toward Tessa’s rejected target. “How could you tell that?”

“The way he was sitting.” Tessa tilted her head so her hair flowed in a dark wave over one bare shoulder before shimmying a little so the fabric fell across her breasts just so. Then she offered Livi a wink. “He had his legs crossed above the knee, did you notice? No guy with a dick big enough to satisfy me can cross higher than the ankle.”

For a brief second, Livi could only goggle. Then she laughed so hard her nerves dissipated. And that, she realized, was probably why Tessa had said what she had.

Then again, Tessa knew a lot about dicks. So maybe she was being supportive and telling the truth.

“You know, if you were actually as oversexed as you pretend to be, you’d have dropped dead from exhaustion years ago,” Livi said, still giggling as she pushed open the door.

They made it two steps inside before stopping.

“Oh, boy,” Tessa murmured. “Now there’s a treat I wouldn’t mind showing a trick or two.”

Livi mentally echoed that with a purr.

Oh, boy, indeed.

The room was filled with men, all so gorgeous they blurred into a yummy candy store in Livi’s mind. It was a good night when a woman could choose between a gladiator, a kilted highlander and a bare-chested fireman.

But Livi only had eyes for the superhero.

Deep in conversation with another guy, he might have been sitting in the corner, but he still seemed to be in command of the entire room. He had a power vibe.

And he was a super hottie.

His hair was as black as midnight, and it brought to mind all sorts of fun things to do at that hour. The supershort cut accentuated the shape of his face with its sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. His eyes were light, but she couldn’t tell the color from where she was standing. Livi wet her suddenly dry lips and forced her gaze lower, wondering if the rest of him lived up to the promise of that gorgeous face.

Her heart did a slow thumpity-thump as her eyes meandered over his broad shoulders and down muscular arms encased in a tight blue shirt. She sighed her appreciation at the definition of his pecs beneath the bright letter S on his chest.

The man of steel. She wondered if he was hard all over.

Then he grinned at something his companion said.

And Livi got shaky. Her knees melted, her thighs trembled and nipples sprang to attention. That was an orgasm smile. She’d heard the girls at the club talk about those during training sessions, but she’d figured strippers exaggerated everything from their bumps to their grinds.

But now she knew.

All he’d have to add to that smile was an offer and she’d climax for sure. And she’d bet that alone would be better than the two years of sex she’d had with her ex.

“C’mon,” Tessa said, her tone as impatient as if Livi had made her wait an hour instead of a few lust-filled seconds. Whether it was because she knew her prodding wasn’t enough to get Livi’s feet moving or because she just loved the attention, Tessa raised her voice, along with her tray, and called out, “Who’s hungry?”

All eyes turned their way.

Tessa preened.

Livi felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Her bubble of lust burst under a dozen or so pairs of eyes and panic took its place. Deep breath, she told herself. And another. By the third her nerves were under control and her public persona firmly in place.

“Roz asked us to bring food,” she said in the same cheery tone she used to tell women to grab a pole and straddle it like a stallion. She tilted her tray to prove they weren’t really crashing the party.

“Food and guests—we’ll take them both.”

“C’mon in and join us.”

“The party just got interesting.”

Tessa took the warm chorus of welcomes at face value, sashaying across the room to begin introducing herself like the social butterfly she was.

Livi was more like a caterpillar than a butterfly, though.

Nerves danced in her stomach, keeping time with the buzzing in her ears. But Livi forced herself to cross the room. Chin high, smile sassy, she knew nobody looking at her could see her anxiety. She’d had years of practice at looking way more confident than she’d ever feel.

She didn’t let herself look toward the corner where Super Hottie was sitting, in case he returned her interest. He probably hadn’t even noticed their arrival. But still... It was difficult enough to sashay into a room full of strangers. She didn’t need to be self-conscious, too.

“Roz didn’t have to go to any trouble,” said a sweet-faced brunette dressed as a sleek black cat as she hurried forward to meet Livi. “She already provided enough food to feed, well, the Navy.”

The woman gestured to the crowd in case Livi didn’t realize the male half of the room were sailors out of uniform.

But Livi didn’t have to be told.

One, the bar, Olive Oyl’s, was in Coronado and catered to the naval base. Two, Roz didn’t close off half her bar for anyone but sailors. And three, well, just look at the guys. They were the epitome of all things military, from their fit bodies to their buzz haircuts to their powerful demeanor—even the guy dressed like a duck.

“Roz figured it’d been a while since dinner and thought people might be hungry. She has a need to feed,” Livi said with a smile and a shrug. “She brought cupcakes and lasagna to my catered wedding, just in case, and I quote, ‘the caterer sucked and the cake was boring-ass vanilla.’”

She bit her lip. Should she have said ‘ass’? Maybe she should have just kept quiet. She never knew if her words would be taken right or not.

But the other woman’s appreciative laugh eased her discomfort. Livi set the tray on the table and uncovered it, then stepped back as a dozen people attacked the egg rolls and nachos.

“Looks as if Roz knew what she was talking about,” the woman remarked, her expression slightly stunned.

“She always does.” Roz had even told Livi not to bother changing her last name, since the marriage wouldn’t last long enough for the paperwork to get filed.

“I’m Eden,” the cat said, holding out her hand. “You must be Roz’s niece.”

Livi blinked, wondering how she’d guessed. Most people didn’t believe them when they were straight-out told, since the only shared trait—physical or personality-wise—between Roz and Livi was their height. Few people knew them both well enough to realize how alike they were, from their taste for green tea to their love of animals.

Aha.

“Eden the vet?” Livi asked. “Purveyor of furry addictions and cuddly friends?”

“Oh, you met Pedro?” Eden exclaimed.

At ease now, Livi fell into a delighted discussion about her aunt’s new three-legged cat.

But her nerves still fluttered, like the wings of a nagging butterfly. Not about the crowd. She’d found someone to talk to. Nope, these were sexual nerves. The kind that were inspired by curiosity and fed by desire. The kind she hadn’t felt in, oh, about a million years.

Unable to resist any longer, sure they’d settle once she assured herself he wasn’t paying any attention to her, Livi looked toward the corner.

The lair of Super Hottie, the sexiest man in the room.

She blinked.

Livi’s butterflies turned into fighter jets, roaring through her system. She locked her knees against the trembling and thanked God that the thick foam of her costume hid her instantly rock-hard nipples.

Because he was staring.

At her.

And he looked as if he liked what he saw.

Uh-oh.

* * *

WELL, WELL. Lt. Commander Mitch Donovan leaned against the wall and watched the gorgeous blonde dressed as a Twinkie talk to Sullivan’s wife. Mitch had never had much of a sweet tooth. But right now he had an intense desire for a taste.

A mellow grin played over his mouth as his gaze drifted down the length of her golden sponge cake−shaped body. How could a woman covered in that inspire lust at first sight? Then his eyes wandered lower, to where the costume ended at mid-thigh. Those were some damned sexy legs, from what he could see. His eyes lifted to her face again and his lust kicked up a notch.

As a man who was used to excelling in extremes of all kinds, he appreciated his body’s instant reaction. He just didn’t quite understand the Pavlovian intensity of it.

She was pretty. Her honey-blond hair was twisted back, leaving her face bare. Dark brows contrasted with the color of her hair and slashed over eyes that seemed to be taking in the entire room at once.

His gaze narrowed. Her expression was friendly, her body language relaxed. But the hand she’d tucked into the side of her costume clenched and unclenched, her fingers fluttering over the foam.

Intrigued by the contrast—always curious when confronted with even the hint of a puzzle—he glanced back at her face to search for other signs. Of fear. Of nerves. Of...

Mitch’s brain went blank.

He didn’t think it’d ever done that before in his life. But it was blank, so he couldn’t be sure.

All he could see were those eyes. Huge, filled with so many emotions he didn’t understand. Lashes so lush they cast a shadow around those eyes, giving her the look of a startled doe. A very sexy, very appealing startled doe.

“Irish.”

Who was she? He held her gaze, imagining those big eyes staring up at him as he poised over her body. Wondering if she’d keep them open after he’d plunged inside or if she’d close them and ride out the ecstasy.

“Yo, you want a drink?”

She blinked, those thick lashes brushing the delicate curve of her cheeks. The move should have broken the spell, but Mitch still couldn’t look away. She wet her lips, the pink tip of her tongue briefly sliding over the full cushion of her bottom lip. He was glad he’d opted for jeans with his costume instead of tights. The zipper didn’t offer much give against his sudden erection, but he was hard enough that he’d have ripped right through a pair of tights, superhero-issue or not.

What did she taste like? Hot and mysterious? Sweet and tempting? How long would it take before he could find out?

“Mitch. Donovan. Lt. Commander, dammit.”

Mitch blinked.

Frowned.

What?

He turned his head, meeting Chief Petty Officer Gabriel Thorne’s impatient stare.

Damn.

“That’s Lt. Commander, dammit, sir,” Mitch shot back. “And what’s your problem?”

“I’ve been talking, but you’re not listening. I’ve gotta tell you, Irish, I’m not used to being ignored.”

Mitch’s lips twitched. Truer words were never spoken.

Shirtless, wearing buckskins and a feather behind his ear, Gabriel Thorne—call sign Romeo—was a man who thrived on attention. And he had plenty to thrive on. Mitch had served with the guy for six years off and on, and he’d never once seen him get shot down. Actually, Mitch wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Romeo make the first move. The guy was usually too busy fending off the women to need to.

“Since I don’t plan to go home with you tonight, I’m not worried about bruising your ego,” he told his friend, happy to gloss right over the temporary and mind-boggling fog of lust. Mitch wouldn’t let himself look toward the blonde again. Not until he’d had a chance to analyze what had happened and figure out how she’d managed to short-circuit his brain.

“My ego is Teflon,” Gabriel assured him, his black eyes dancing with amusement aimed at the both of them. Native American blood ran strong in Thorne, from the hint of blue in his close-cut hair to the gold of his skin and razor-sharp cheekbones. “Besides, it’s not just the ladies who pay close attention, my friend. I knock, the enemy listens.”

“Might have a little to do with the IED you’re aiming their way,” Mitch pointed out with a grin. A demolitions expert, Thorne could make a grenade dance around a corner, scurry down a hall or chase a man up a mountain. “But don’t let me rain all over your fantasy with my boring reality.”

“Bro, my reality is most guys’ fantasy.” Gabriel winked. “But then, so is yours. Navy SEAL, fast-tracking your way through the ranks with enough medals and commendations to cover a wall. And you’re not bad-looking, so you don’t scare away the ladies when they’re hitting on me. All in all, I’d say we’re a damned good team.”

“Yep,” Mitch agreed, draining his beer. Gabriel liked to say he kept Mitch around as a wingman because most guys couldn’t handle his success with the ladies.

Mitch knew better, but it didn’t bother him enough to correct his friend.

“So you wanna fill me in?”

“Not really.” Mitch didn’t have to ask what Gabriel meant. He’d known his little trip into the lusty fog wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“She came in with the brunette with the broken halo. They’re not connected with any of the team, so I figure Roz sent them. Either that or they’re enemy infiltrators, here to deliver food and steal our Halloween secrets.”

Impressed, Mitch grinned and shook his head. It was hard to be irritated with the guy’s uncanny insights when they were always delivered with a laugh.

“What? You don’t have her name? A detailed dossier on her likes and dislikes, contact information and bra size?”

“Hey, I’m in explosives, not intelligence.”

“Ahh,” Mitch said, drawing the word out.

In true Romeo fashion, the other man arched one brow and nodded. Challenge accepted.

“Five,” Gabriel said, referring to the number of minutes he guaranteed it’d take him to win the challenge.

“Bet,” Mitch confirmed, agreeing to their usual terms.

Five minutes was enough time to make sure he had control over his reactions—both north and south of his belt.

Gabriel stood, grabbed their empty beer bottles and sauntered across the room. He didn’t head for the blonde, though. Instead he lost himself in the crowd around the pool table.

Less than a minute later he was back with four beers, a slight frown and the brunette with the broken halo and a body made to tempt Satan.

“Mitch, this is Tessa. She was nice enough to bring our food since my hands are full.”

Mitch arched a brow. He’d had to resort to a lame excuse like that to get the woman over? Romeo was losing his touch.

Ignoring Mitch’s grin, Gabriel took the plate of egg rolls.

“These are great. But you’re too gorgeous to be with catering,” Gabriel said, leaning back on his heels and giving the angel an assessing look. “How’d you get roped into playing waitress?”

The brunette matched him look for look, then shrugged.

“Roz asked, so Livi and I delivered.”

Mitch glanced at his watch.

“Livi? Isn’t that Roz’s niece?”

Mitch almost rolled his eyes. Damned if the man didn’t belong in intelligence. Of course, the only way he’d be any good there was if the US needed to infiltrate a harem guarded by women on an all-female island. But that was beside the point.

“You’re wanting to meet Livi?” the brunette said slowly, giving Gabriel a long look before turning those assessing eyes on Mitch. He was pretty sure those baby blues garnered as much info on him in that single look as the Pentagon had in their last security check. The military had approved his clearance. He wasn’t so sure the angel would.

No big deal. It wasn’t like he needed a wingman—or in this case wingman and winged woman—to get the girl. Before Mitch could brush off the sultry angel, she turned and gave a low whistle, waving her friend over.

While she did, Gabriel lifted his wrist to show he was on minute three of five.

But Mitch wasn’t paying attention.

His focus was the Twinkie, who after a moment’s hesitation crossed the room to join them.

Mitch knew there were words being said.

He was sure he was missing out on the fun of watching Romeo strike out.

But the closer the blonde came, the deeper into that fog of lust Mitch fell.

Brown. Her eyes were the color of melted milk chocolate. Rich, warm and inviting. Up close her face was even more striking in its delicacy. Especially the contrast of those dark eyes and brows against her pale skin and golden hair.

Those rich, hypnotic eyes met his.

Mitch could see interest there. And heat. Oh, yeah. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. He recognized that heat.

He opened his mouth to introduce himself. Before he could, Romeo snapped his fingers.

“Olivia Kane.”

The blonde blinked, frowned and pulled her gaze away from Mitch to look at Gabriel.

“Yes?”

Mitch grimaced. He didn’t have to look at his watch to know it had been just under five minutes.

“I’m a big fan. I’d love to talk about your training programs. Excuse me just one second, though.” Gabriel glanced at Mitch and grinned. “Thirty-six bravo, and out.”


2 (#ulink_418fcf14-b66f-5763-98e0-ee816855033f)

“I’M MITCH DONOVAN. And you’re Olivia?”

Unable to find words, Livi simply nodded and nestled her hand into Mitch’s much warmer, much larger one.

It was like grabbing a live wire. His touch zapped a shaft of hot desire through her system with so much intensity, Livi wanted to lie down. On the nearest flat surface, preferably with him on top of her.

She could run a four-minute mile, lead an advanced interval-training class for fifty women while giving detailed verbal instructions, or handle herself in the kickboxing ring against a toothless bruiser named Bubba.

And she could do them all with a big smile, an average maximum heart rate of 120, and absolute faith her training meant that even if she got distracted by talking, muscle memory would get her through the workout.

But right now her smile was as shaky as her knees. Her heart was beating so fast and loud that she was light-headed, and her muscles were going into meltdown.

All it had taken was a single touch from Super Hottie.

Or...

Um, what had he said his name was?

Livi wet her lips, about to ask, when she realized she was still shaking his hand. No, it’d been so long now that she was just holding his hand.

Could she be a bigger dork?

Her cheeks warming, she let go and stepped back. It took all of her resolve, and the image of her mother’s glare, to keep Livi from turning heel and running out of the room. And she’d thought she’d overcome her shyness? Ha. Making a complete ass of herself with the sexiest man she’d met in forever pretty much burst that illusion.

Then she forced herself to stop. This was simply resistance. Maybe a dash of humiliation, but mostly resistance. Muscles weren’t built without it, she reminded herself. See it as a strength-training exercise.

Rallying to the self-lecture, Livi took a slow, subtle breath, pulling the air all the way down to her belly button. She let it calm her, soothe the edgy nerves. Another breath and she was able to pull on her meet-the-press persona, complete with toothy smile.

“Most people call me Livi,” she told him before inclining her head toward his friend, who appeared to be arguing with Tessa.

But... Men never argued with Tessa.

“I’m surprised he recognized me in this getup,” Livi said slowly, distracted by the other two. “Actually, I’m surprised he recognized me at all. That doesn’t happen very often.”

“Romeo has a special knack,” Super Hottie said with a friendly shrug. “I keep telling him he’d be a great spy, but his memory is pretty selective.”

“Romeo?” Tessa stopped whatever she was debating so fiercely to interrupt. She gave Super Hottie’s half-dressed friend an amused look then flicked her finger over the feather behind his ear. “And here I thought you were Tonto.”

“And here I thought angels were sweet,” the man called Romeo shot back.

Livi’s confused glance bounced between the two of them. Tessa seduced men. She didn’t argue with them. And the only guy Livi had ever seen go toe to toe with her usually charming friend had done so because he’d wanted to wear the feather boa in a dance number.

What was going on?

Frowning, she looked at Super Hottie askance. He gave a baffled shake of his head.

“So what do you do if you’re not a spy?” Livi asked Romeo, with a bright smile, trying to smooth over the social awkwardness. An odd change since she was usually the one causing it.

“I blow things up.” His smile coated in charm, he leaned back, draping one arm over the back of the chair. “Irish here does push-ups.”

Oh, the images.

Livi’s heart did a happy bounce just thinking of Super Hottie in a plank position, biceps and triceps bulging as he pressed. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Whew. She wet her lips and wished she had a glass of water. Iced, preferably.

As much to try to erase the tempting visual from her mind as to stop the conversation before it moved on, Livi waved her hand in the air.

“Hold up. Romeo? Irish? I have trouble believing your mother looked at your sweet baby faces and decided to give you those names.”

Romeo gave a snort that could have been taken as amusement if not for the quick flash of bitterness in his eyes.

Super Hottie flew to the rescue so fast Livi wondered if she had been imagining things.

“Romeo and Irish are call signs, nicknames, if you will. It’s a Navy thing, or rather a military thing.” Super Hottie offered a smile that rivaled his friend’s in charm. “I’d rather you just called me Mitch, though. And he’s Gabriel, if you were looking for something else to call him.”

“I’ve got a few other things in mind,” Tessa muttered.

Mitch. Livi was too busy rolling Super Hottie’s name around in her mind to do more than give her friend a quick elbow jab.

“So Gabriel blows things up,” Livi said, her eyes locked on Mitch’s bright blue ones. They were hypnotic. Seductively hypnotic. “What about you, Mitch? What do you do?”

Me, she wanted to suggest. I’d like you to do me.

But for once, her bone-deep shyness came to the rescue, keeping her mouth shut before she blurted that out.

“I’m a bit of master of everything. You name it, I’ve probably done it.”

“Is that so?” Livi murmured, her mind rapidly compiling a list of things he might have mastered. Since most of them involved him being naked, her smile turned naughty. “Tell me more.”

“Why don’t you name a few and we’ll compare notes.” Coming from any other guy, she’d consider that to be a pickup line. But Mitch looked as sincere as he did amused. He was so nonthreatening, he scared her.

Or maybe that was the desire pounding through her body.

She wet her lips, wondering how to find out.

Before she could come up with any ideas, Tessa’s words caught her attention.

“Livi can beat that. She is the push-up queen.”

Frowning, Livi looked at her best friend. Had she missed the coronation?

“I bow to her majesty’s prowess. But Irish is still the best.”

Was he? He was busy watching the debate between Gabriel and Tessa, so Livi allowed herself to stare. He definitely had a great body. She could see enough of his muscle definition to give a nod to the Navy for a job well done. A great body was one thing. Knowing how to use it was another.

Been there, done that, had the divorce papers to prove it.

She was pretty sure Mitch knew what to do with his. A guy as hot as he was, as focused and intuitive? He had to, right?

“You want to bet?”

“Name the stakes, Angel.”

“Anything you want says that Livi can beat Mitch at push-ups.”

Livi blinked as the words filtered through her fantasies of what Mitch might do if he focused on her naked body.

What?

She shook her head then did a mental replay.

“What?” She gave Tessa a baffled look. “What are you talking about?”

“Just pointing out that you’re in great shape and you rock at push-ups.” Tessa shrugged. “Why not prove it?”

“Maybe because I’m dressed like a snack cake.” Then Livi muttered out the side of her mouth. “Or maybe because I don’t want to? Besides, you’re in great shape, too. You prove it.”

“You’ve got a bodysuit on underneath.” Ignoring the rest, Tessa frowned. Obviously she was more focused on beating Romeo at whatever private game they were playing than on Livi’s wants.

“You’re seriously challenging my guy to a push-up contest?” His teeth flashed white against his bronze skin before Gabriel threw back his head and laughed. “Angel, he’s a SEAL. Best of the best. I know your girl is good, but she can’t be that good.”

A SEAL?

Livi melted a little inside.

He really was Super Hottie.

Livi’s eyes flew back to Mitch. He’d angled his chair so it was tilted against the wall, his booted foot on his knee. He watched Gabriel and Tessa continue their heated debate, his smile not shifting. Then he met Livi’s gaze and shrugged as if to say he knew their friends were acting crazy, but what could he do.

For the first time in her life, Livi considered ditching her friend and asking a guy to take her home.

Then she could show him what she could do. Or better yet, he could show her.

“C’mon, Liv. I’ll help you out of your costume.”

“What?” Livi shook her head, wondering if that halo was squeezing Tessa’s head too tight. “I’m not taking off my clothes.”

The words had barely left her mouth when she felt it.

The air changed.

Electrified.

Startled, she looked back at Mitch.

His calm amusement was gone. Instead, his eyes were intense. Filled with an unmistakable sexual energy that sparked a response so hot and fast Livi swore she had a tiny orgasm then and there.

“How about a private bet?” he suggested quietly, his smile making it clear he was once again amused by the entire scenario.

Livi frowned. Was he always so mellow and self-assured? The confidence might be a SEAL thing. His friend had it, too. But where Gabriel came across somewhere between confident and cocky, Mitch was simply sure.

What was that like?

Had the man never lost at anything?

Livi had no idea where the urge came from. She was clueless how the words landed on the tip of her tongue. But before she could stop it, her own challenge tumbled out.

“You’re on,” she agreed, leaning forward until she was nose to nose with him. For a second she lost her train of thought as his scent, rich and spicy, wrapped around her. His eyes were pure blue, she realized. Not a hint of gray or green. Gorgeous.

And amused.

It was the amusement that snapped her back.

“I’ll double whatever they bet,” she said, tilting her head to indicate Tessa and Gabriel.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Mitch promised quietly.

Livi hoped she did, too.

Five minutes later, the parameters had been set, enough spectators had realized a challenge was afoot and a crowd was gathering.

Was she crazy?

“So you really think you can beat him?” Tessa murmured as she unzipped the foam under Livi’s arm.

Hell, no.

“Why are we doing this?” she sidestepped. “Can’t we just have drinks with the guys and flirt?”

“Flirt?” Tessa’s face curled into a combination of horror, disdain and something else. Something Livi couldn’t read. “You’re kidding, right? We’re not flirting with these guys. We’re beating them then taking our winnings and getting out of here.”

“I’d rather flirt.”

Which was saying a lot, since flirting tended to make her feel like she’d just broken out in a rash.

“The guy is a SEAL.” Tessa said that the same way she’d state that he was a puppy-kicking Peeping Tom with a chicken fetish.

“So?”

“So, Pauline would have a cow if she found out. You know how she feels about Navy guys. She’d have a total meltdown, bitch for months and probably book you on a gig in Timbuktu to get you away from him.”

Livi wrinkled her nose but couldn’t disagree.

Pauline was Livi’s manager, the driving force behind Livi’s success. She’d managed, maneuvered and manipulated Livi into an enviable career, where she was currently teetering on the edge of fame and fortune.

Livi didn’t figure any of that gave the woman the right to call the shots on her personal life.

Pauline was Livi’s mother. The last time Livi had ignored her demands disguised as advice, she’d married Derrick. The price of her mother stepping in to clean up that mess had been a blanket promise to not do anything stupid again.

Livi inspected Mitch.

He was hot. He was sexy. He was seriously appealing.

And he had enough charisma to shut down her brain.

Did that qualify as stupid?

Livi felt like Eve standing in an apple orchard. And the hottie with the big S on his chest was the biggest, juiciest, tastiest apple of the bunch. Did she follow the rules?

Or did she give in to temptation?

Duh. Like there was a choice.

“We’ll just make sure Pauline doesn’t find out,” she murmured.

“No,” Tessa protested. “Have pity. I’m a part of your crew. If you’re shipped off to Timbuktu, I’m stuck there with you.”

Livi pulled her gaze away from Mitch to give Tessa an arch look.

“Double dates with Dean Wickens, that drummer guy, Paul who never would admit his last name and those creepy twins,” she recited, ticking each off on her fingers. “Endless clubs, three production parties and my favorite pair of sneakers covered in purple paint.”

Tessa’s face froze. Her eyes shifted to the corner then she lifted her chin. “What’s all that have to do with Timbuktu?”

“In every one of those situations, you promised you’d owe me.” Livi inclined her head toward the corner. “I’m calling in your debt.”

“Dammit.” Tessa huffed and crossed her arms over her chest to glare. When Livi’s expression didn’t change, Tessa rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. “Fine. I won’t tell Pauline.”

Livi rounded her brow. Tessa pressed her lips tight and gave a sigh strong enough to knock over a horse.

“God, you’re demanding. Okay, yes, I’ll stay with you and play backup.” Tessa huffed. “But only for an hour. No double dates.”

“Works for me,” Livi agreed, almost giddy with excitement. “But just so I know, what’s your problem with Gabriel? I know you don’t go for military guys, but I’ve never seen you get straight-up ugly with one before.”

“He’s just so unbelievably arrogant, like he’s so sure he’s perfect and knows everyone is just waiting to appreciate him.” The glare she shot across the room made it clear that disagreeing was pointless, so Livi hummed instead. “He’s obviously got a one-track mind. He thinks sex is the be-all and end-all. And who the hell looks that perfect?”

Scanning from the top of Tessa’s perfectly tousled curls down her perfectly curved body to her perfectly polished toes, Livi could only shake her head.

“The mind boggles,” was all she could say without bursting into laughter.

From her narrow-eyed look, Tessa caught the amusement, anyway. She was silent for a moment then shook her head and changed the subject.

“So, bottom line, can you win?” she asked. “Can you take Mitch?”

“Yeah,” Livi promised. “I’m taking him.”

With that, she stepped away. She pulled her arms free and shifted her head through the unzipped foam.

Her eyes locked on Mitch’s as she stepped out of the costume, her body clad in a pale yellow racer-backed unitard. Maybe Livi had a touch of social anxiety, and she might not have anywhere near Mitch’s confidence. She might have a few insecurities and a whole slew of worries. Throw in a domineering mother, an absentee father, a soul-sucking ex-husband and a ticking time clock on her career, and she had a lot of baggage.

But what she also had—and she was positive of this—was a rockin’ awesome body. She worked on it every day. She made her living with it.

And she was going to use it to win this bet.

* * *

HOLY HELL, SHE was a Playboy centerfold wrapped in a wet dream mixed with an erotic version of the girl next door.

Sexy and sweet, gorgeous and...

Mitch’s brain shut off again as every particle of his being focused on Livi’s body. She was perfect. Like her face, her body was a contrast of strong and delicate. Broad shoulders and lightly muscled arms framed full breasts and a delicately tapered waist. Her slender hips curved out nonetheless. And those legs...

Mitch gave a silent groan as his gaze meandered down legs so perfectly shaped, so temptingly long, that it’d take him hours to appreciate them the way they deserved.

“You wanna wipe the drool off your chin?”

“What?” Mitch realized what he was doing. He gave his friend a hard look. “What the hell is going on?”

Gabriel pulled a contemplative face, leaned back in his chair and locked his hands behind head.

“Hmm, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re horny for the Twinkie. And seeing as how her body has made many a man sit up and beg, that’s not a surprise.”

How many a man? And how had Romeo recognized Livi?

“Details,” Mitch demanded.

“She’s the hottest thing to hit fitness in years,” Gabriel told him. He grinned at Mitch’s haughty look. “I dated a gal who was trying to get on her workout team. Olivia Kane, The Body Babe. I watched a few of her videos with Casey. Or was it Carey?”

“You should keep records,” Mitch suggested, shaking his head. “Or maybe figure out a mnemonic rhyme to remember who’s who.”

“Not enough letters in the alphabet for that, Bro.”

But Mitch wasn’t paying attention anymore. He was busy watching Livi stretch one arm over her head and catch her fingers with the other behind her back. The move pushed her shoulder blades together and lifted her breasts higher. His body went into overdrive, lust pounding through him in throbbing waves.

Mitch wasn’t a horn dog. Not like Romeo pretended to be. He appreciated women, and had definitely had more than his share. And like Romeo, he never had to pursue them. Which made it easy to walk away. When he was redeployed. When he was sent on a mission. When he was ready to move on. Mitch only had one true passion, one focus.

His career.

Livi bent in half, her hands flat on the floor, butt high and back arched, so she faced forward. Her ponytail swung in time with the pulsing moves she made to warm up and stretch out her muscles.

For the first time in his life, he wondered if he had room for another passion.

“You looking to start something up with her?” Romeo asked, his tone low and quiet. “If you do, be careful.”

Mitch tore his gaze off the sloping muscles of Livi’s back and shoulders to the man next to him.

“Careful? Her friend might have ‘man-eater’ written all over her, but Livi doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who needs a warning label.”

“Take it from me, she’s even more dangerous. She’s the relationship kind.” Romeo gave a sage nod. Then he eyed Mitch and added, “Course, just because I’m relationship poison doesn’t mean you are. I don’t want to be a bad influence on you. Maybe you ought to give a relationship a try. You might like it.”

And what if he did? There was no way a man could have two priorities. Could he put his career goals in second place?

“Not going to happen,” he said, as much to himself as to his friend. “I’m leaving at first light for Virginia Beach to report to DEVGRU screening, remember.”

DEVGRU, the Navy’s counter-terrorism group, was the elite of the elite. Reporting to Naval Special Warfare Command, the unit often worked with the CIA and always operated in the dark. The invitation to screen was an honor, regardless of whether Mitch made it through training—or even chose to try.

He gave a silent groan as Livi shifted. She was grabbing her ankles now, her face pressed to her knees and her butt temptingly high in the air.

Enticement like this, he’d never seen in his life. This kind of enticement made a man think twice about assignments, regret deployments.

Mitch firmed his jaw—might as well, since everything else had firmed up—and shook his head. That wasn’t going to happen to him. His old man had done that. Not that Mitch didn’t think his mother was pretty awesome, because he did. But if his grandfather, the Admiral, had pointed it out once, he’d pointed it out a million times. If Thomas Donovan had put his career ahead of his personal life, he’d have been a vice admiral instead of a captain.

Of course, the old man always responded by reminding his father that if he’d been as career-obsessed as he, he wouldn’t have his son. So Mitch couldn’t fault the decision too much.

But that didn’t mean he was going to follow it.

“You know, Irish, she’s damned good. She might actually take you.” Romeo grinned at the crowd gathering around. Tessa waved her hand high in the air, calling for the attention of anyone who hadn’t already wandered over. “It’s going to be painful when she does, too. There’s gotta be three teams here to bear witness. Good thing it’s not our platoon.”

He and Romeo usually deployed on the east coast. They were only in Coronado for the next few months to take part in a new training program. But the SEALs were a small family. What one platoon knew, the others would soon know, too. Nobody ferreted out secrets like SEALs.

Mitch wasn’t worried. He didn’t lose.

“What’s going on here?” a loud voice called out.

Greetings and exclamations flew through the room as Roz Evans appeared, a tray of sandwiches in each hand and bats hanging from her ears. This was her one concession to Halloween, Mitch knew, since the foot-tall blue hair was everyday wear.

“I hear you boys are causing a ruckus,” she said a couple minutes later, after she’d handed off the sandwiches.

“Would I do that?” Mitch asked, offering her his most charming smile.

“You might not,” she acknowledged before tilting her head at Romeo. “But this one would.”

“Only because you keep turning me down.”

Livi and Tessa arrived just in time to hear Gabriel’s declaration. Tessa’s frown was as deep as Livi’s smile was bright.

“You know these guys?” Livi asked, handing Roz a beer.

“Darlin’, when will you learn? I know everybody.”

“You’ll play ref for our little contest, won’t you?” Tessa asked.

“Sure thing. I got the deets on the contest when I came in.” She pointed to the center of the room. She didn’t have to say another word before four guys were there moving tables and chairs to clear a wide circle. “Who’s covering the bet?”

“That’d be me.” Wearing a T-shirt with the face of the Cookie Monster on it, Bad Ass Brody Lane sauntered over with a fistful of cash. “Who’re you going with, Roz?”

“Donovan, I know you’re a kick-ass SEAL, and usually I’d put all my money on you,” she said, pulling a few bills out of her pocket and counting twenty into Bad Ass’s waiting hand. “But all things considered, I’m gonna have to back my girl.”

“You got this,” Brody assured him.

More than ready to find out, Mitch got to his feet.

“Shall we?” he suggested, waving his hand to indicate the ring.

Livi took a deep breath that gave a first-rate demonstration of the wonders of Lycra and did a little stretching of Mitch’s libido, too. She walked just a step ahead, giving him an up-close and excellent view of her butt.

Mitch had been competing most of his life. Against others, against himself, against the enemy.

He’d never competed against temptation, though.

This was going to be interesting.


3 (#ulink_7e9fc150-47e1-5055-a7bf-f3e27aee504a)

“ARE YOU SURE about this?” Mitch asked Livi.

She hadn’t volunteered for this little competition. More like she’d been railroaded. So he figured it was only fair to give her an out.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said quietly. “How about you?”

Damn, she was cute with that challenging look in her eyes and her chin in the air. He’d take it easy, like he did with the kids he sometimes coached, so she felt good about the results.

“Standard push-ups?” Roz asked, accepting Cade Sullivan’s hand and stepping onto a chair for prime referee viewing.

“For the queen,” Gabriel decided. “Irish does military-style.”

“I’m sure glad I have you making these decisions for me,” Mitch told his friend.

“I figure you’d be lost without me.” Romeo smacked him on the back then stepped out of the circle. “I’ll count for Irish.”

“Let’s keep it a little more impartial than that,” Roz suggested. She scanned the crowd. “Cade, you count for Mitch and Eden can count for Livi.”

Commander Cade Sullivan moved in front of Mitch with a wink and a grin. Wearing puppy-dog ears as a nod to Halloween, the guy had a rep as one of the toughest BUD/S instructors to hit SEAL training.

His wife scooped up the tail of her cat costume and took a similar position on the other side of Roz’s chair. At the last minute she rushed forward to give Livi a quick hug.

“No hug for me?” Mitch asked Cade.

“You’re not pretty enough,” Sullivan dismissed. “Now drop and give me fifty.”

“Take your positions,” Roz called out, holding up her cell phone. “One minute on the clock.”

Livi dropped to the floor and assumed the plank position. Mitch followed suit, angling himself so he could watch her. Keeping an eye on the competition was just smart thinking. Besides, when his gaze shifted to the shadowed valley between her breasts, the view was damned nice.

“And...” Roz gave a shrill whistle. “Go.”

Hands shoulder-width apart, elbows tucked against his body, Mitch went. Down, up. Down, up. He didn’t count. He just let his body do its job. Instantly in rhythm, he glanced at Livi.

She was staring right at him as she pumped up and down.

“I could do this all night,” she murmured. “How about you?”

Mitch grinned.

“Did you know that push-ups are one of the best exercises you can do for your sex life?” she asked, her voice so low that given their position on the floor, he doubted anybody in the cheering crowd had heard her.

But he had.

His body stiffened in reaction. Good thing he was wearing jeans instead of sweatpants. Otherwise his push-ups would have turned into pole vaults.

“It’s all about the core,” Livi continued, her words spaced with her breathing. “You strengthen those core muscles and yowza. You know I work with strippers, right? The things they tell me a good core can do are pretty amazing.”

Shit.

He missed a beat, his elbow locking. He had to do the next push-up one-armed to find his rhythm again.

He’d rappelled off a cliff in a shower of bullets.

He’d shot, sniper-style, dangling from a helicopter while militants targeted it with IEDs.

He’d built his reputation on his ability to focus. To go after what he wanted, ignoring any and all distractions.

“Thirty seconds.”

Mitch ripped his gaze from the view of Livi’s arms, with their perfectly rounded muscles bunching and stretching. Her strength was almost as much a turn-on as her gorgeous body.

“Mmm, you’ve got some kind of stamina,” she observed in that same quiet tone, her words a little breathier now.

Is that how she’d sound during sex?

Imagining it, Mitch looked over. Her eyes gleamed hot with desire as she stared at his arms. Her lips were pursed as she sucked air in, blew it out.

Then her eyes shifted to meet his.

And she smiled.

A wicked smile that nearly sent him flat on his face.

“Fifty-five seconds.”

Damn it.

Jaw clenched, Mitch called up his much-touted focus, staring straight ahead.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Nothing else entered his mind, nothing else mattered.

Up. Down.

“Time.”

More winded than he usually was in a minute, Mitch did a final push, pulling his knees to his chest and vaulting into a crouch. He didn’t let himself look at Livi.

Not yet.

Instead, he watched Eden give a shout of delight, quickly followed by a hip-bump to her husband.

“She kicked butt,” she claimed.

Cade’s smile was indulgent, but he shook his head.

“Sorry, babe. But he kicked butt.”

“Flirt on your own time,” Roz instructed. “What’s the count?”

“Sixty-nine,” Eden declared with a triumphant smile.

“Sixty-nine,” Cade said at the same time.

A tie? Well, well.

Not sure if he was more impressed with Livi’s tactics or amused at the entire scenario, Mitch grinned.

The room exploded in applause.

Romeo and Tessa went toe to toe, debating the results at the top of their lungs.

Her breath labored, Livi rested her forehead on her knee for a second before meeting Mitch’s gaze. Her eyes were filled with delight, her smile as much a turn-on as her physical prowess.

She tilted her head toward the arguing couple and arched one brow.

“What are the stakes they’re fighting so fiercely over?” Mitch shrugged, surprised to discover his arms were on fire. He was used to pushing his body to the limits, but it was obviously harder when half his blood supply had taken up residence below his belt.

“Yo, Romeo. What’d you have on the line?”

Gabriel held up one finger to indicate he wasn’t finished arguing yet, and kept on edging closer to the brunette. Typical body intimidation tactics. Except she didn’t seem intimidated.

“You think they’ll end up in bed together?” Mitch wondered aloud.

“I’d be surprised if they managed to hold out long enough to find an actual mattress,” Livi replied. Then, lifting her head and her voice, she called out, “Aunt Roz, you have a second?”

“That’s about all I have.” The tall woman sauntered over to hold out a hand to her niece.

“I’ve got a crew of hungry people here. I need to bring in another keg of beer, and somebody should pour a pitcher or three of ice over those two. And what do you need?” As always, her words ran together into one long, breathless declaration.

“I’d rather it not get out,” Livi quietly told her aunt. “But I’m not sure what the stakes of this challenge were. Did you happen to hear?”

Roz’s lips twitched. She gave Mitch a wink then held out her other hand for him. He eyed it, wondering if this was how the mighty felt after the fall. But it’d be rude to refuse, so he put his hand in hers and effortlessly hopped to his feet.

“Nobody seemed to have the straight of it on what the stakes are between the two of you,” Roz said. “But the stakes between those two are a lip-lock versus a date.”

Livi frowned.

“We tied. That means it’s a draw,” she pointed out. “So why are they arguing? Neither lost.”

“Because Tessa says the draw means all bets are off. Romeo claims it means they both have to pay up. The money’s on Romeo, if you’re looking to cash in,” Roz said with a laugh before heading off to do all those things she needed to do.

Mitch watched Livi as Livi watched her aunt.

And he kept watching, giving her time to work it through.

It didn’t take her long. As soon as her aunt cleared the door, she turned her gaze back to him.

“So I owe you a kiss?” she asked.

“And I owe you a date,” he confirmed. Mitch tilted his head toward the side door. “Shall we go discuss payment?”

* * *

STEPPING INTO THE COOL, dark storeroom ahead of Mitch, Livi flipped on the light. The bulb cast a dim glow on boxes and crates, leaving Mitch’s face in shadows as he let the door shut behind him.

Livi knew she should have felt ashamed of the naughty way she’d manipulated that competition.

She didn’t.

But she should have.

Her mother was fond of saying that only results counted. But having grown up as one of her results, Livi was just as fond of believing that actions mattered, too.

And intentions.

She leaned against a waist-high stack of crates, her eyes locked on Mitch’s face as he walked toward her.

Out there in the bright room surrounded by partiers he’d seemed like a seductively sexy, extremely gorgeous, abundantly charming man. The kind of man she fantasized about.

In here he was still sexy, gorgeous and charming. But the dim shadows added an air of danger. Hinted at everything he was capable of doing. Because he was the ultimate fantasy...a SEAL.

Her excitement took on an edge that made her nervous.

What did it say about her that her anxiousness just turned her on more? He stopped a few inches away. Her pulse sped up even faster than it had during the push-ups. She tried to swallow but her throat was sandpaper.

“So, some challenge, huh?” she said, her bright words ricocheting around the room like a poorly aimed racquetball.

“It was interesting,” he acknowledged. His eyes were like X-rays, looking so deep Livi wondered if he could see her nerves. Did they teach that in BUD/S? What other skills did he have? More than she did, for sure.

Panic pushed through her excitement.

She didn’t know how to do this.

She knew how to win.

And—although some might debate it—she knew how to kiss.

But how did she handle winning a kiss?

“Interesting in what way?” she asked, desperately trying to find something clever to say, something that would keep him occupied until she figured it out.

“You play to win,” he noted quietly, skimming his fingers, just the tips, down her arm from shoulder to wrist. Livi shivered, need edging aside nerves again in her stomach.

She watched his face, wishing she could see as much there as she knew he saw on hers.

“I don’t do this,” she blurted out. “I mean, not usually.”

“Don’t play to win?” He waited a beat. “Or don’t play, period?”

She wanted to admit the latter. But her lack of sexual savvy had been a major bone of contention between her and Derrick—one of the key reasons for their divorce.

Any sexual shortcomings she might have were probably the kind of thing Mitch should find out for himself. After she’d found out if his mouth was as good as his body. How’s that for sexual savvy? she congratulated herself.

His hand was still skimming, light as silk, up and down her arm. His touch was a whisper. A reminder. As if she needed one. Her body was wound so tightly she didn’t know how long she could stop herself from grabbing his face in her hands and yanking that mouth to hers.

Long enough to keep from making a fool of herself, she silently promised.

“I like to win,” Livi admitted. “But I don’t think winning is everything.”

“Heresy.” His grin flashed like lightning in the dark, quick and striking. “Don’t let the team hear you say that.”

“You play to win?”

“I play. I win.”

“You are so confident,” she breathed, shaking her head in admiration. That was almost as much a turn-on as his well-muscled body.

“I’m good.”

He was good. He knew it and so did everyone else.

“But we drew,” she pointed out. Tilting her head to the side, she wondered, “Did that bother you? Since you’re used to winning, I mean?”

“I didn’t lose.”

“But you didn’t win.”

His smile was a slow seduction that meandered its way through her system with hot little licks of pleasure. It was so intense it made her nipples ache.

“Sweetheart, sometimes a draw is a win. It’s all about the bigger picture. What’s the real goal?”

Right now her only goal was to taste him.

Livi wet her lips in anticipation but couldn’t make herself say that aloud.

“Is that one of those military things?” she asked instead. “Like sometimes losing the battle to win the war?”

“I didn’t lose.”

As delighted as she was turned on, Livi laughed.

He really was confident.

What was that like?

Ready to find out, she touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip and reached out to trace her finger over the letter S on his chest.

Oh, my. He felt good. Very, very good.

She lifted her eyes to meet his, tilting her head so her ponytail swept over his hand where it rested on her shoulder.

“Super SEAL?” she asked.

“Man of iron,” he promised, his hand sliding behind her neck to cup her head. Fingers tangling in her ponytail, he closed the distance between their bodies.

“Ready?” he asked, his mouth inches from hers.

“I think so,” she breathed, shifting closer.

His lips brushed over hers. So soft, almost sweet.

Once.

Twice.

The third time, he added his tongue. Sliding it over the seam of her lips, along the edge of her teeth.

Livi’s body flashed hot, then cold, then hot again.

Her fingers curled into his chest, the other hand grabbing his shoulder for balance.

She’d thought she was ready for this?

Oh, how wrong she’d been.

Drowning in the overwhelming sensations, Livi let herself go. Let herself feel.

And oh, my, she felt good.

His tongue danced along her lips again, then, without warning, he tightened his hand in her hair. He tilted her head back, angled his mouth and thrust his tongue inside her mouth.

His teeth scraped her bottom lip, his hands holding her head steady so he could ravage her at will. Her body went hot before everything melted into a molten puddle of pleasure.

Livi almost came then and there.

The kiss was wild.

Tongues dueled, sliding over each other in a sensual dance.

Her heart pounded in time with the fingers she kneaded against his skin. Then, wanting more, she slid her hand under the sleeve of his shirt, her fingernails scraping gently over the rock-hard delight of his bicep.

He angled closer so he was wedged between her thighs. His erection pressed against her belly, even harder than his impressive bicep.

So she did it again. This time, though, she captured his tongue between her lips and sucked while her nails skimmed from shoulder to bicep and up again.

He growled, low and deep.

She thought he’d take her.

She wanted him to.

Livi had never felt such a desperate need, such a deep, clawing desire for a man. She wanted to strip for him, to tear his clothes away. She needed to feel him, all of him, sliding over her body. Into her wet heat.

But instead of taking her, Mitch eased back.

With a long, soothing stroke of his tongue he ended the kiss, then brushed his lips over hers as if he couldn’t quite bear to quit just yet.

“You blow my mind,” he murmured against her cheek.

She felt his deep breath against her ear, a part of her wanting to protest that she wasn’t ready for this to end. She wanted more. She needed to know what else there was.

His hands gripped her waist, lifting her so she was seated on the stack of crates she’d been leaning on.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving between her thighs. His hands still on her waist, he took her mouth again.

If the last time had been a deluge this was an explosion.

Before, he’d seduced.

Now, he took.

And Livi let him.

Her hands smoothed upward along the muscles of his back before caressing his shoulders. He had incredible shoulders. His tongue played with hers, sliding then plunging, again and again.

Livi’s entire being focused on his mouth. On the feel of his tongue, the glide of his lips.

Then his hands cupped her breasts.

She cried out at his touch, wet heat stabbing low and pooling between her thighs.

He didn’t squeeze. Didn’t rub. He just held her.

Livi squirmed, the need coiling tighter inside of her.

His mouth left hers, skimming her cheek with kisses as light as air. He nuzzled against her ear, his breath warm, before his tongue slid down her throat. Hot, wet and delicious, he buried his face in her shoulder.

Livi moaned softly, her head falling back to give him better access.

She was a woman highly in tune with her body.

She worked it, she pushed it. She made her living from it and, for better or worse, was becoming famous for it.

She thought she knew what it would do, how it would react. But as Mitch skimmed his fingers along her thigh, coming teasingly close but not touching her center, she admitted she’d had no clue.

Either that, or he was simply a superhero when it came to turning her on.

Before she could decide which, he pressed his hand against her mound, his fingers hot through the fabric of her unitard.

Livi lost it.

Oh, God.

Everything went black, tiny pinpricks of light flashing behind her eyelids as the pleasure ripped through her, tight and sharp.

Her legs tightened on his hand.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

Her mouth melted beneath his.

As the orgasm curled back he changed the kiss. In an instant it went from voracious to soothing as he guided her down.

It was as if he knew her body better than she did.

She’d never had an easy trigger. As much as she liked the idea of sex, she’d rarely been able to relax enough to climax during lovemaking. She hadn’t relaxed with Mitch, either.

But oh, my, had she climaxed.

Fully clothed. She realized he hadn’t shifted a single piece of fabric.

Livi’s mind boggled.

Her body shivered.

Not just at the wonder of what he’d done.

But at the possibilities of what he could do.

“More,” she breathed.

She had to have more.

* * *

DAMN, SHE WAS SWEET.

His body tight, Mitch took a deep breath and grabbed on to control. He’d known she’d taste good, but he’d had no clue she’d taste this good. Be this responsive.

His hands skimmed back up. Grazed her hips, slid over her waist, briefly cupped her breasts. Livi gave a little purr when he touched the soft warmth of her cheeks.

Her body...

He took a deep breath, blown away.

Because her body was simply amazing. Not just because she was built like his every fantasy, but because she was so amazingly responsive. He was a good lover. A damned good one. But he’d never had a woman ignite so fast, explode so intensely, then sigh so sweetly. The combination was addictive. He wanted more. He needed more.

Brushing a soft kiss over her lips, he skimmed his hands down to her shoulders, fingers sliding under her leotard straps. He wanted to push them aside. To pull them down her arms, free those breasts and look his fill.

A part of him, the part that’d been raised to be a gentleman, reminded him they were in a public storeroom and that stripping her naked—even if to worship her body—was pretty tacky.

The rest of him, led by his dick, insisted he could more than make up the tacky setting by offering incredible pleasure.

As if she sensed his internal debate, Livi shifted closer, her tongue sliding along the seam of his mouth like hot velvet.

No question about which part he was going to listen to.

Mitch reluctantly pulled his mouth away from Livi’s. She was delicious, but he wanted to watch the first time he stripped her bare.

His hands slid over her slender shoulders under the fabric. Despite the dim lighting, he could still see the slumberous excitement in her gaze, the glistening temptation of her full lips.

Before he could do more than enjoy the view, there was a loud pounding on the storeroom door.

Livi jumped. He simply turned his head toward the racket.

“Pull your pants up, I’m coming in,” said a female voice.

Since his pants were secure—thanks to his hard-on, so secure he might have trouble unzipping them—Mitch didn’t bother following the instructions.

He did mentally curse Romeo for losing his magical touch. In all the years they’d known each other, Mitch had never seen the guy strike out. Seriously? He had to do it for the first time tonight?

Light slanted in, bringing the racket from the party with it.

“Liv, I’ve got to get out of here. You want me to cab it or take your car and you can get a ride from your aunt later?”

Livi closed her eyes, gave a mortified groan and dropped her forehead onto his chest.

“Something upset her,” Livi told him, her voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “I should give her a ride.”

Since Mitch could hear the tears in the other woman’s voice, too, he could only nod and vow to get revenge on Romeo.

“I’ll meet you out front in five minutes,” she called to Tessa, giving Mitch an apologetic look.

He waited until the door closed, then tilted her lips up to meet his. She tasted so good.

Too good.

It was probably just as well they’d been interrupted. He didn’t want their first time to have been some tacky backroom bar encounter, fast and furious against the wall. Livi deserved much better than that. But he knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist her taste if she’d stayed.

“Rain check,” he said against her lips.

“Okay.” Livi leaned closer and traced her tongue over the join of his lips.

There came another loud thump on the door.

This time they both groaned as they separated.

“I don’t think your friend is waiting out front.”

“She doesn’t take orders very well. But she really is upset. I should go,” Livi said, her voice heavy with regret.

Mitch was tempted to ask if she always put everyone else’s needs ahead of her own, but that would have been rude. And he figured one orgasm and the intention to strip her bare in a storeroom were the limits to his rudeness for the night.

So he stepped back, holding out a hand to help her down. Livi cupped her fingers around his but didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Will I see you again?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” Mitch assured her, surprised she’d asked. Not because of her stunning looks, drop-dead body and adorable personality, although those were all major factors. But because he wasn’t a sleaze.

But she couldn’t have known that. Mitch had to remind himself that despite how close he felt to Livi, they’d only met tonight.

“That’s right.” Her smile bloomed. “You owe me a date.”

“That’s a bet I’m looking forward to paying. But, unfortunately, I can’t right away.”

Ready to get her number and set up a date for the following night, Mitch glanced at his watch. And clenched his teeth as reality smacked him upside the head.

“Damn it,” he muttered. At her questioning look, he grimaced and said, “I’m due on the east coast tomorrow. I have to go by the base, get my orders and catch a plane.”

“Ah.” Her smile was agreeable, her nod perfectly understanding. And her eyes filled with skepticism. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to see her doubts, to know she’d figured he’d blow her off.

Showing impeccable timing once again, Tessa chose that moment to pound on the door.

“I guess I’ll see you sometime.”

He understood her suspicions. Navy guys weren’t known for sticking around. Not because they were dogs, although every branch of the military had their share fit for kenneling. It was because they were deployed for long periods of time—months, years—in submarines, on ships, in other countries.

That sort of lifestyle didn’t lend itself to dating, let alone to having relationships. It was irresponsible to pretend otherwise.

Mitch looked into Livi’s big brown eyes and couldn’t resist, though.

“I’ll see you when I get back in town,” he promised. “In the meantime, tell me your number.”

She rattled it off.

“Aren’t you going to write it down?” she asked with a frown as she slid off the crate.

“I never forget things that matter,” he promised. “I’ll call you when I get back.”

“Will you be gone long?” she asked, her fingers rubbing the sleeve hem of his shirt so her knuckles slid over his bicep.

He wasn’t going on a mission, per se. Nothing about his trip was top secret. Still, Mitch didn’t share any details of what he did. An overcautious habit, perhaps, but a habit nonetheless.

“I’ll call you,” he said.

Unable to resist one last kiss, he pulled her into his arms and gave himself over to whatever in the hell this was between them.

Lust. Desire. Passion or a trap, he didn’t know.

All he knew was that he’d never felt anything like this before.

Mitch slowly ended the kiss, his fingers brushing her cheek before he released her.

“You’re so sweet,” he said with a smile. “I never realized how addicting that could be.”

Then he did what he’d spent his entire life training to do.

He walked out and didn’t look back.


4 (#ulink_a621d4eb-2f87-5a03-924d-457f3158a1e3)

LIVI’S LIPS WERE still tingling an hour later.

Tucked into her comfiest jammies, Livi sank onto her couch and sighed with pleasure. Mitch Donovan had the most incredible mouth. What else could it do? Was he a kiss-you-everywhere kind of guy? Derrick hadn’t been. She had a feeling there was nowhere Mitch wasn’t willing to go.

“You look like a cat with a mouthful of canary feathers,” Tessa said as she brought Livi a bowl of freshly cut fruit and Greek yogurt. “So go ahead. Dish. What’d the sexy SEAL have to offer?”

Livi opened her mouth, but no words came out. Pressing her lips together, she frowned.

Between training, taping and touring, she’d spent the last year with burlesque dancers, strippers and, for a memorable couple of weeks, drag queens. All the while she’d listened to them and her crew exchange salacious stories, share intimate encounters and dish naughty details.

She finally had something worth sharing, and the words wouldn’t come out.

Not for the first time she wondered what was wrong with her. Why couldn’t she just put it out there, the good, the bad and the ugly? Or in Mitch’s case, the incredible?

“I can’t believe you were so rude,” she said instead. “I’ve never interrupted you like that. I’m pretty sure this means you still owe me.”

Tessa grimaced but didn’t deny the claim.

“So you cut your flirting short,” she said instead, setting her own fruit and yogurt on the table. “It’s not as if anything between the two of you had a chance of going anywhere.”

“A kiss and a date,” Livi reminded her.

Tessa scowled.

“You’re not really going through with that, are you? It was a tie. There’s no way anyone can expect you to pay double when you essentially won.”

“Mitch didn’t lose,” Livi said, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she remembered him making that point.

“He didn’t win, though. So nobody has to pay.” Tessa threw her hands in the air and paced from one end of the living room to the other. Unlike Livi, she hadn’t changed out of her costume. Even dressed in colorless white, she contrasted clashingly with the soothing shades of lilac and pool-blue of the room.

“Nobody?” Livi ventured. “Or you?”

Tessa stopped mid-pace, her glare hot enough to melt glass.

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Livi demanded, straightening with her shoulders back and chin high. As if great posture would allow her to win the argument. “I’ve known you for eight years and in all that time I’ve seen you with hundreds, maybe thousands of men. You either seduce or freeze. You never get angry. So what’s your problem with Gabriel?”

Tessa kept glaring, but Livi could tell she had to work for it. Finally, the brunette rolled her eyes.

“Thousands?”

“Sure. I count all the men I’ve ever seen you with. Fans, dancers, waiters. That old man who lives in the apartment below you.” Livi waited a beat, then snapped her fingers and added, “The little boy who broke your window last year. What was his name?”

“Billy.” Tessa’s lips twitched. “I do not seduce eight-year-olds.”

“Of course you do. Not sexually.” Seeing that Tessa still hadn’t touched her bowl, Livi stole one of her strawberries. “But you pour on enough charm to get the guy—or little boy, in this case—to fall head over heels for you, making him so crazy he’ll do anything you want.”

Livi leaned forward to take a blueberry, but Tessa moved her bowl before Livi could reach it.

“What’s your point?” Tessa snapped.

“My point is I’ve never seen you argue with a guy. Especially not a good-looking, sexy, available one. But you were right up in Gabriel’s face. Why?”

Tessa’s face closed up. Something flashed in her eyes, a pain Livi had seen before. But no matter how often she’d offered to listen, no matter how good of a friend she tried to be, Tessa kept whatever had caused that pain locked away tight.

“Have you met Gabriel before?” Livi couldn’t help but ask.

“I know exactly what kind of guy he is. He’s military. He’s totally dedicated to one thing and one thing only. His career. Guys like that say they’ll be back. They make all sorts of promises. But they never keep them.” Tessa waved her hand through the air as if shooing away all those broken promises. “I know you think they’re hot, Livi. But they belong in the look-but-don’t-touch category. And more importantly, don’t be touched.”

Tessa gave her a questioning look.

“Oh, no. It doesn’t work that way.” Livi shook her head and wagged her finger at the same time. “You don’t want to tell me what your issue with Gabriel is—that’s your choice. But you don’t get to use those issues to keep me away from Mitch.”

Tessa opened her mouth. Livi leaned forward. She wondered if she’d finally find out what the hell her friend’s problem with military guys was. Then the brunette snapped her teeth shut and shrugged.

“You’re seriously going to date the guy?” Anger gone, leaving her looking empty for a moment, Tessa dropped onto the pale blue couch, shifting the watercolored pillows aside. “Livi, you know I’m not big on rules. Especially not rules made by people for their good and not your own.”

Livi puffed out her cheeks, knowing where this was going.

“But put aside the drama you know Pauline will create if she finds out a lowly sailor has had the gall to put his hands on her daughter, and think about her reasons for objecting.”

“Mitch isn’t just a sailor. He’s a SEAL,” Livi pointed out stubbornly. As if making it worse was going to help.

Tessa gave a look that echoed Livi’s thought.

“Livi, your mom is the last person I’d defend in almost any situation except this one. Here, she’s got a right to be biased, don’t you think?”

Livi dropped her gaze to her lap, watching her fingers as they combed through the knotted fringe of her amethyst throw.

She’d grown up fatherless. The word Unknown had been typed in the Father box on her birth certificate. As far as Pauline had been concerned, Livi might as well have been conceived at a sperm bank. Actually, for quite a few years Livi had wondered if she had been. But her mother had always refused to even tell her that much.

It hadn’t been until Roz had contacted her that Livi had found out anything about her father. Apparently Roz hadn’t even known she had a niece until a sailor who’d happened to know her brother stopped in her bar and started reminiscing. When he’d wondered what’d ever happened to Trent’s kid, Roz had gone ballistic, calling in favors and tapping sources until she’d found out.

She’d been the one to break it to Livi that her father had died during Hell Week of SEAL training. But that wasn’t why Pauline felt Navy guys should be castrated right after being sworn in. It was because Trent Evans had walked out on her when she was five months pregnant to chase his dream of being a SEAL, telling Pauline that a family would only hold him back.

He’d paid sporadic child support for the first couple of months of Livi’s life, but had been too focused on his goal of getting into SEAL training to bother to see her. By the time she was six months old, he’d achieved his dream of going to BUD/S, and lost his life.

Livi knew all of this secondhand. She didn’t know if her mother had loved her father. She wasn’t sure if they’d been together long, or what sort of relationship they’d had. She had no idea if it’d been hard on her to raise a child alone.




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