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Fevered Nights
Jillian Burns
The desire to be goodThe temptation to be bad…Lingerie model Piper is a tabloid's dream come true. She's broken hearts, rules–even a few laws. After her last little "adventure," however, Piper realizes her trashed rep won't just destroy her career–it'll destroy the one thing she really cares about. Now she's a Reformed Bad Girl. And nothing will stop her from being good.Navy SEAL Neil Barrow is pretty much done being The Good Guy. He's hoping that the deliciously naughty Piper will set both his body and his reputation on fire. When they steal away for a few days, however, it becomes clear that this incendiary attraction is about more than just being bad. And Neil will have to choose between the woman he wants…and the man he really is.


The desire to be good
The temptation to be bad...
Lingerie model Piper is a tabloid’s dream come true. She’s broken hearts, rules—even a few laws. After her last little “adventure,” however, Piper realizes her trashed rep won’t just destroy her career—it’ll destroy the one thing she really cares about. Now she’s a Reformed Bad Girl. And nothing will stop her from being good.
Navy SEAL Neil Barrow is pretty much done being The Good Guy. He’s hoping that the deliciously naughty Piper will set both his body and his reputation on fire. When they steal away for a few days, however, it becomes clear that this incendiary attraction is about more than just being bad. And Neil will have to choose between the woman he wants...and the man he really is.
“And here is the winner...”
A rugged man bounded confidently up the stairs. Dog tags hung around his neck. His sandy-brown hair was slightly longer than she thought a military man’s would be, and a few curls clung to his neck and temples. He flashed a smile to the crowd and then placed his hands low on his hips and glanced at Piper.
He did a classic double take as his gaze swept down her body and back up again to meet her eyes. She caught the gleam of appreciation and...surprise.
What? He didn’t think world-famous lingerie model Piper would spend her day at a charity event? Well, that was why she was here. To clean up her image, right?
Piper stepped forward, offering the trophy to the man. As he took it from her, she leaned in to kiss his cheek, but he turned to face her and her lips touched his. After a split second of surprise he pressed closer, turning the peck into a real kiss.
His lips were gentle, inviting. Her breathing hitched and a heat that had nothing to do with the weather consumed her as his mouth moved over hers.
The audience erupted into applause. Someone whistled shrilly.
Snapped from her daze, Piper pulled away. Her heart was pounding. She touched the back of her hand to her flaming cheek.
Was she getting a fever?
Dear Reader (#ulink_27f40f39-cf4f-513d-92eb-b71dca0ca7c1),
When I wrote Night Maneuvers, I needed the “perfect guy” for female Navy pilot Alex to date to make Mitch jealous. At that time, I’d just read about the Navy SEAL sniper who had taken out the Somali pirates that had hijacked a US cargo ship. I thought how perfect a decorated hero would be to give Mitch an inferiority complex, and wrote Neil the SEAL as a secondary character. I didn’t really think of him as a Blaze hero because he was so perfect. Flawed men are way more fun to write. But then, after Night Maneuvers was released, I started receiving emails from readers asking for Neil to have his own happy ending, and, of course, readers know best! Neil did need his own happy-ever-after.
So, this is Neil’s story. Piper is a complicated person and very young. And Neil is so...nice. I was afraid he’d be boring. But Piper is just what Neil needed to shake up his perfect world. I loved researching the South Beach, Miami, setting and learned way more about sailing than I ever thought I would care to, but it was fascinating!
Watch for the last book in this trilogy coming soon, and please check my website, jillianburns.com (http://jillianburns.com/), for more info and excerpts. Happy reading!
Jillian
Fevered Nights
Jillian Burns


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JILLIAN BURNS fell in love while reading such classics as Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice in her teens and has been reading romance novels ever since. She lives in Texas with her husband of twenty-five years and their three half-grown kids. She likes to think her emotional nature—sometimes referred to as moodiness by those closest to her—has found the perfect outlet in writing stories filled with passion and romance. She believes romance novels have the power to change lives with their message of eternal love and hope.
To Natalie. You’ll always be my “Baby Girl” even if you are all grown up now.



Acknowledgments (#ulink_4c155a44-16f5-566b-9628-861c4abcc9d9)
Special thanks to sailing expert Joni Dahlstrom of Lynn Creek Marina for all the information about sailing. I appreciated you taking time out of your busy day to answer my questions. I can’t wait to go sailing with you!
And, as usual, thank you to my dearest critique partners and plotting helpers, Pam, Linda, Von and Barb. And a huge debt of gratitude to my editor Kathryn Lye.
Contents
Cover (#u04a60350-d2cd-522e-87d3-39cafeffd05f)
Back Cover Text (#u7999afbc-20e5-5b57-8349-32d804341743)
Introduction (#u1e1532dd-c246-5e8d-aeda-0fad1cf911a1)
Dear Reader (#ulink_3232d277-22ed-5d25-b369-47fecf4885f3)
Title Page (#udc113078-3042-5407-8832-aacf4dfba063)
About the Author (#ud78bd908-7488-5c8c-93a5-83387e92ce6a)
Dedication (#ub0cd0a34-9d5a-5233-9089-13deca08e8ab)
Acknowledgments (#ulink_949010e6-20a5-52c8-843e-21dec2883fc5)
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1 (#ulink_0311ab5f-17bc-5761-b827-b1532d43a82f)
“I DON’T WANT to do this.” Waiting behind a backdrop, Piper rebelliously sneaked a peek at the crowd waiting on the terrace of the South Beach Yacht Club. The members of this club were conservative, distinguished. The movers and shakers of Miami.
“Don’t worry,” Piper’s assistant, Ragi Bhagat, reassured. “All you have to do is look beautiful and present the trophy.”
Hah. Piper clenched her fists. Story of my life. Looking beautiful was all she’d ever been good for. But it paid the bills.
Ragi swept Piper’s long hair around to one side and flicked an imaginary piece of fluff off her linen dress. “You’ll be fine.”
Piper wasn’t so sure. The last time she’d been in Miami she’d caused a horrible front-page scandal. Her photo had been splashed on the cover of every tabloid, along with a salacious headline about the “notorious bad girl’s” arrest at the cruise terminal. That had only been four months ago.
“Smile.” Ragi shoved a three-foot-tall, double-handled gold chalice into her hands.
Piper staggered under its weight, barely righting herself on her four-inch wedge espadrilles. After throwing Ragi a mutinous glare, she pasted on a smile and climbed the stairs to the dais, positioning herself just to the right of the podium with the microphone. The yacht club sat on a hill overlooking the water, but despite the ocean breeze, it was bloody hot for May.
The woman at the podium was wrapping up her speech. “And thanks to everyone who participated in the regatta, we’ve raised three-hundred-and-seventy-five-thousand dollars for a children’s hospital in Miami.”
Applause erupted and the woman stepped back, extending her arm to her left. “And here is the winner of the race to receive his trophy, Lieutenant Neil Barrow!”
More applause exploded, even louder and more raucous, as a rugged man bounded confidently up the stairs to shake the woman’s hand. His gray Go Navy T-shirt had a triangle of dampness down the front and under each arm. Dog tags hung around his neck. His sandy brown hair was slightly longer than she thought a military man’s would be, and a few curls clung to his neck and temples. He flashed a smile to the crowd, and then placed his hands low on his hips and glanced at Piper.
He did a classic double take as he swept his gaze down her body and back up again to meet her eyes. She caught the gleam of appreciation and...surprise.
What? He didn’t think lingerie model Piper would spend her day at a charity event? Well, that was why she was here. To clean up her image, right? Though visiting the hospital this morning had been both enlightening and painful. So many children. There’d been that young boy who’d reminded her of Nandan. Her brother had been the same age the last time she’d seen him.
“Piper!” Ragi whispered loudly from behind the backdrop. “Hand him the trophy.”
Piper pasted on her most brilliant smile and stepped forward, offering the trophy to the man. As he took it from her, she leaned in to kiss his cheek, but he turned so that her lips touched his. After a split second of shock he pressed closer, switching the peck into a real kiss.
His lips were warm, gentle, inviting. Then they opened to deepen the kiss. Her breathing hitched, and a heat that had nothing to do with the weather consumed her as his mouth took hers.
The audience burst into applause. Someone whistled shrilly.
Snapped from her daze, Piper pulled away. Her heart was pounding. She touched the back of her hand to her flaming cheek. Was she getting a fever?
The lieutenant’s eyes twinkled as he lifted his head to focus on her. “Have dinner with me tonight,” he whispered.
The bubble popped. Piper sighed. What had she expected? She’d just let him give her a sensational kiss. In public. She brought the arctic to her expression. “I’m busy.”
His brows drew together. He seemed taken aback. Obviously he’d expected her to accept. Maybe even skip dinner altogether and jump right into his bed. But that was the old Piper.
He shrugged, then faced the crowd and grinned, lifting the trophy above his head. The applause roared to life. There was a palpable energy rising from the gathering. Bulbs flashed from journalists’ cameras, and cell phones were held aloft to video the events.
The naval officer’s biceps flexed as he pumped the trophy up and down in a traditional sign of victory. He waved to the people a final time then jogged down the platform steps. No opportunistic speech about his involvement with the charity? Nothing about his commitment to poor, sick children?
The woman emcee reclaimed the microphone and announced the charity race would officially end with the gala ball on the terrace at eight. The crowd dispersed. Piper was scheduled to attend the gala ball. Get her photo taken with the hospital administrator, the mayor and whoever else could help repair her reputation. Must play nice if she wanted her contract with Modelle Cosmetics renewed.
She headed down the steps of the platform and toward the club’s lounge. Someone’s hand touched her shoulder and she turned.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend back there,” the navy guy said with a lopsided grin. “Just got caught up in the moment.”
Offend? A few months ago she’d have already had him in her hotel room by now, going at it hot and heavy. Piper offered him a tight smile in return. “It’s fine.” She went to leave.
“So give me another chance? I swear I can be a gentleman.”
Piper stilled. Yeah. Sure. “Look, I know you think that because of what you’ve read about me I’m—”
“Read about you?” He frowned.
She studied him. “Right. You don’t know who I am?”
“Should I? I’m sorry. I’m out of the country a lot.”
Out of the country? As if maybe he lived on a ship? Even still. Could he be for real?
“Honestly. I have no agenda but dinner.” He lifted one shoulder and smiled. “And maybe a good-night kiss.”
His smile jolted through her. She looked into his eyes. Warm brown eyes that reminded her of burnished copper. Eyes that seemed genuine and untroubled.
What would that be like? To spend time with someone who wasn’t using her for their own selfish reasons. But that kind of person didn’t exist.
Still, she was so bored with this whole reformed-bad-girl act. And she absolutely did not want to stand around at that gala tonight pretending to make nice. “Okay.”
“Really? I mean, great. The club’s dining room? Say...an hour?”
Nodding, she turned away, her heart thudding again. Would she never learn to think before she acted? Despite his assertions, the guy probably thought he could get her into bed. Failing that—and he would—he probably wanted his name and picture linked with hers in the papers. His fifteen minutes of fame.
Ragi would be furious that she’d made this date. She’d insist on Piper schmoozing at the gala first. The PR firm had been scrambling to find events where she could make appearances and restore her image. So far, the approach had been working. Just last week Modelle had hinted that they would consider renewing her contract when it expired next month.
She’d signed on as the spokesperson for the makeup company when she was a fresh-faced seventeen-year-old. New on the scene. A rising star in the modeling world. Under the thumb of her agent, Ms. H, Piper’s reputation had been unblemished back then.
Now? Well, she’d had a few troubling years. And Modelle insisted their models’ characters be above reproach. After Piper’s arrest in the cruise terminal, Modelle had threatened no new contracts. Since then, Piper had been conspicuously well behaved.
Yet here she was, back in South Beach. Maybe she should send the naval officer a note, canceling.
* * *
“NOW, THAT WAS WALKING, talking trouble right there.” Neil’s buddy Clay lifted his shot glass toward the platform workmen were disassembling outside.
“The trophy girl?” Neil plunked down on a bar stool and ordered a beer. He glanced through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the yacht club’s dining room. The curvy beauty who’d handed him the trophy didn’t look like trouble. Regal. Haughty even. Although that could’ve been the slight British tones in her Indian accent. But there’d been something...fragile about her, as well. And passionate. That kiss had sizzled. “What’s up with her? One minute she’s kissing me for all she’s worth and the next she’s freezing me out.”
“Well, what’d you expect? Her last boyfriend was a French billionaire.”
Neil paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips. “Why? Who is she?”
Clay’s jaw dropped. “You been living under a rock? That’s Piper.”
Neil gave him a blank look. “Piper who?”
Clay shook his head in disbelief. “She’s a famous model. You’ve never seen her in those Desiree’s Desire commercials?” Clay whistled. “And that bikini she wore on the cover of SportsWorld last year? She’s the most notorious bad girl on the planet.”
A lingerie model? Oh, yeah, he could easily picture her in something sexy like that. Neil’s body heated. He was going to have to start paying more attention to lingerie.
“She snubbed the Queen of England,” Clay said, counting off with his fingers. “Crashed a Lamborghini.” Another finger rose. “Dated and then cheated on Hollywood royalty Brad Benton and last but not least was detained by port authorities, returning from Mexico a few months back.”
“Whoa, Bellamy, you read all those celebrity rags while you’re at the salon having your nails done?”
“You’re a real funny guy, Barrow.” Clay spoke with the long, lazy drawl only someone raised in the Deep South can own. “I hear all that stuff from my mother. She lives and breathes it.”
Neil grinned. It felt good to get Clay Bellamy on the defensive for once. “Your mother’s a saint.”
Clay’s eyes narrowed. “The woman you met is real different from when she raised me.”
Neil sipped his beer as he studied the sunset through the wall of windows. Clay never talked about his childhood in Alabama. Neil could only guess it hadn’t been idyllic. But then, whose was? His own mother fell into the same category. She only seemed like a saint to the public.
Though Neil didn’t mind donating his time to her charities, he preferred swinging a hammer for Build a Home rather than racing some rich dudes up and down the Miami coast. But at least it helped the children’s hospital foundation. One of his mother’s high-profile pet projects that looked good on the resume of a senator’s wife.
Would he have asked the trophy girl out if he’d known she was a famous model? She was mouthwateringly gorgeous. Creamy caramel-colored skin, delicate cheekbones and full lips. Her long, straight black hair fell almost to her waist. She was tall and slender, but not bone thin like the runway models he’d seen. Her sleeveless pink dress hugged some substantial curves.
But it was her eyes that had captivated him. Neil couldn’t get the image of the woman’s luminous light green eyes out of his head.
And whether she actually showed tonight or not, he intended to enjoy what was left of his week’s leave. Take his mind off Lyndsey and the divorce. Or rather, the almost divorce. Had she signed the papers yet? His attorney had assured him it was just a formality. He was supposed to overnight the final papers to Neil as soon as Lyndsey signed. Neil wanted the whole mess over with.
He tore his gaze away from the purple-and-pink-streaked sky and cleared his throat. “Well, sorry to ditch you, bro, but the lingerie model’s meeting me here for dinner in...” He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes.”
“Hmm, what do you know? Straight Arrow Barrow hooking up with bad-girl Piper. This calls for a toast.” Clay gestured to the bartender for a refill of his shot glass. “I guess our weekend plans to raise hell are getting off to a good start.”
“You’re the one who said we’d raise hell down here, not me.”
Clay shrugged. “I thought it’d do you some good. You been living like a monk since the separation.”
“Didn’t know you cared, Bellamy.”
That remark earned him a rude gesture. But the idea of veering from the straight and narrow appealed to Neil. And an affair with the hot cover model would be the sweetest cure for the contagion that seemed to have spread in his soul ever since he’d returned from a tour in Afghanistan to find his wife in bed with her lover.
Despite a lifetime spent trying to do the right thing, nearly killing himself to be the best, to make his father proud, all his efforts had come crashing down nine months ago.
Though now he could see that things had been crumbling for years.
Clay thumped the second shot glass upside down on the bar next to the first one. “Least now I can fly back to Little Creek knowing you’ll be just fine down here for the rest of your leave.”
Neil chuckled. He and Clay had been pals since BUD/S, standing next to each other in lineup, two last names starting with B. Surviving the training course in Coronado, freezing their petunias off Hell Week. Going through all that alongside another guy tended to cement a friendship.
Clay clapped his shoulder. “Man, an affair with the Piper. Just come up for air every once in a while, okay? You want to be able to walk after your leave is over.”
Neil’s beer slid down the wrong pipe and he choked and coughed while Clay slapped him hard on the back.
“Jeez, Bellamy. You work hard at being crude or does it just come natural? I’m down here for a little R and R, that’s all. I’m going to hire a boat and do some deep-sea fishing, maybe sail down to the Keys...”
Clay raised his brows. “Fine, but this weekend our objective was to find us some women and go wild. And since you’re already mission accomplished, I’m down one wingman tonight.”
“Tomorrow we’ll hit that honky-tonk you wanted to check out. Now get out of here.”
Clay stood and saluted. “Suh, yes, suh!” Then pivoted on his heel and headed for the exit. As Clay took off, in walked the long-legged model in a slinky short black dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. She’d actually showed.
But now that he knew who the woman was, he couldn’t see the dinner going anywhere. The illustrious Piper probably wouldn’t give him the time of day. He was no Brad Benton. Besides, celebrity models and navy SEALs lived worlds apart, right?
Still, she’d agreed to dinner. So who knew?
When Piper passed Clay, his friend turned around to walk backward, wiggling his brows behind her back.
Neil ignored him. His attention was riveted on Piper. She brushed her long hair behind one ear and gave him a hesitant smile. Neil swallowed.
Oh, he sure hoped she wanted to be bad tonight.
2 (#ulink_d5cb27c1-7658-529f-ba88-39d110830982)
PIPER WAS DETERMINED to be good tonight.
But looking into the navy lieutenant’s flashing eyes, she had to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d changed into a dark suit with a crisp white dress shirt. But no tie. And he smelled nice. Clean, musky, subtle. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He pushed away from the bar at her approach, and there was a sense of carefully controlled power in his stance. She guessed the military training must be ingrained in him. He was older than she was. With the crinkles around his eyes, she’d say he was in his early to midthirties.
He nodded toward the dining room. “Would you like to eat here or...?”
“Are you a member?”
“Me? No, I live in Virginia.” He smiled. “But I know a guy who is.”
She paused. Surprisingly, Ragi had readily approved of Piper’s impromptu date, suggesting that she bring the lieutenant to the gala. It seemed he was a decorated SEAL whose father was a US senator. Being seen on his arm would be worth more than a dozen pictures with the Miami mayor. So her job tonight was to get her name linked with a military hero’s.
But to do that, she’d have to mix and mingle and she’d have to use this guy for a photo op. Suddenly Piper found herself longing—just once—to have a normal dinner with a normal guy away from all the craziness of the paparazzi.
Normal. She didn’t even know what that meant.
Panic flared momentarily as she realized she’d never been on a regular date. How messed up was that?
What would they talk about? What did one do on a normal date?
She glanced at the white linen that covered the tables, topped with gleaming silverware, flickering candles and fresh flowers. The bank of windows looked out over the sparkling ocean. Soft music played in the background. Now was as good a time as any to find out about a regular date. Ragi would be upset if she skipped the gala. But hadn’t she’d earned a night of harmless fun?
She met his gaze. “Here sounds nice.”
He offered his bent arm and she slipped her hand around his elbow as he led her to a table by the window. She could feel the hard muscle beneath her fingers, and she liked the way he held her chair as she sat and then scooted it in for her before taking his seat across from her. She wasn’t used to being treated so...respectfully.
A waiter handed them menus, and the lieutenant ordered a bottle of wine before she could tell him not to. One glass wouldn’t hurt, right? She lowered her menu to meet his gaze as the waiter left. She knew men liked to talk about themselves. No reason this one should be any different. “Do you do a lot of sailing, Lieutenant?”
“Neil.” He shrugged. “When I can. I like to sail down to the Keys.”
“Those are the islands south of here? Is that really where Jimmy Buffet lives?”
Smiling, he nodded. “Yep, and lots of other celebrities, too. But the best thing is the sunset. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a sunset in the Keys.”
“I’d love to see that.”
“Maybe I can take you while we’re both in town.”
Ah, so he did want to get her into bed. Why was she surprised?
He cleared his throat and she realized she’d waited too long to respond. She smiled. “And did you sail your boat down here from Virginia for the regatta?”
“No, a yacht company sponsored me, so I sailed one of their racers.”
“Oh.” She nodded and studied her menu. Where was that waiter with the wine?
“My family does own a yacht, but it’s moored in DC,” he offered.
She glanced up. “And that’s where you live?”
“In DC? No, but I’m not far. I standby at Little Creek, Virginia.”
“Standby?” She knew nothing about the American military. Or the British one, either, for that matter.
“When we’re not deployed or attending a special training school we’re waiting around to be deployed. We can be playing pool at this bar called Barney’s one minute and the next thing you know we’re on a plane headed for an op.”
“That sounds a lot like my life in a way. I never know where in the world my next assignment might be.”
He chuckled and started to scan his menu.
“What’s so funny?”
“Sometimes I never know where in the world I’m going to be, either.”
English wasn’t her first language, but she caught the play on words and smiled. “I believe your assignments are undoubtedly more dangerous, Lieutenant.”
He looked up from his menu. “Neil.”
She got caught in the warm copper color of his eyes. How could his stare feel so intense and yet convey such warmth? It made her want to squirm and at the same time lean closer. But she did neither. “Neil,” she acknowledged with a small smile.
The waiter returned, poured their wine—which Neil accepted without tasting—and took their orders. Piper reached for her glass. Without the menu as a barrier, she felt exposed. Strange. She didn’t often feel awkward around men. But then, the men with whom she usually kept company were acutely adept at playing the game. This man...wasn’t. And she realized she didn’t know what to do with that.
The silence had gone on too long. “What do you do—”
“My buddy says your—” They spoke at the same time.
He nodded at her. “You go.”
“What do you do in the navy?”
“Whatever they tell me to do.” His sheepish smile softened the sharp answer.
Piper blinked. “And how long have you been doing that?”
“Since I was twenty. Uh, fourteen years, now.” His eyes widened. “Wow, saying that out loud makes me sound really old.”
“And why did you join the navy?”
“Well, I sure didn’t want to be a jarhead.”
Piper frowned. “Pardon?”
He winced. “Sorry. It was a joke. Jarheads are marines. We have a bit of a rivalry with the marines. No, it was my uncle. After Korea, the military knew they needed a more unconventional type of soldier for counterinsurgency. My father’s older brother was one of the first SEALs. He died in Vietnam.”
She raised a skeptical brow. “And this was the reason you wanted to follow in his footsteps?”
Neil’s gaze drifted off. “I was alone a lot as a kid. One day I found a trunk in my grandparents’ attic with a bunch of old letters. On one of them was a picture of these guys in jungle camo, and a Purple Heart medal. There was also this gold pin of an eagle perched on an anchor, holding Neptune’s trident and a pistol in his claws. It’s the pin that navy SEALs get after they complete training.
“When I asked my grandfather about it he told me the things had belonged to my uncle Greg. Uncle Greg had written the letters to his parents from Vietnam. I practically memorized them. They taught me the only important things I needed to know in life.”
Piper was taken aback at his sincerity, and couldn’t have stopped herself from asking the next question if she’d tried. “What are the important things in life?”
His focus shot back to her and he tilted his head. “Honor,” he stated with conviction. “Duty.” He thrust his chin out. “And love.”
Piper blinked, feeling her eyes sting. If she’d ever believed in those things, she’d lost faith in them long ago. After all, she’d failed at all three. Avoiding his searching gaze, she reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. She cleared her throat. Somehow this didn’t feel like a normal date. “I guess knowing how to sail well comes in handy in the navy?”
He shrugged. “Knowing how to swim certainly helped. It was about the only thing that got me through BUD/S.”
“BUD/S?”
“Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL training.”
“Oh. So you blow things up underwater?”
“That’s part of the job, I guess. Sometimes.”
“Then, I can see why you’d have to be a good swimmer.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah.” He nodded. “You do.”
She grimaced. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve said something incredibly stupid?”
“No.” He looked alarmed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
“It’s all right. You wouldn’t be the first.” She forced a small smile. “Or the last.”
Instead of agreeing with her, he narrowed his eyes and scrutinized her face. “No one should ever make you feel stupid.”
Piper’s mouth dropped open. She had no idea what to say to that. This man had only just met her, didn’t know her at all, yet he’d touched a raw nerve with such precision and then soothed it in the space of a few seconds.
He took a sip of his wine and the food arrived. Grabbing his knife and fork, he ignored the salad and dug into his steak with gusto. After he’d swallowed a bite, he looked up. “All I meant about the swimming was that unlike my buddy, I was usually last at everything at BUD/S, except for that and diving.” He forked another bite of steak and popped it into his mouth.
“I find that hard to believe.”
He stopped chewing and met her gaze. She’d been staring at his chest, wondering if it was hairy or smooth. Despite his average height and build, she sensed strength in his every move. Power lurking beneath the surface. Just thinking about the muscles that bunched under his suit coat made her want to slide it off and run her hands down his arms.
Her face heated. She concentrated on her salad, picking at the spinach.
“That really all you’re going to eat?”
“If I want to continue to work.”
Funny, she wasn’t the least bit interested in food right now. Usually, limiting her caloric intake was a struggle. When she’d first arrived in London, she’d wanted to stuff her face every chance she got. But Ms. H had controlled her diet with an iron hand from the beginning.
It had seemed a ridiculous paradox to her at first; living in such luxury and yet still going hungry. But at least she’d been allowed to send money back to Nandan.
“Doesn’t seem right.” He shook his head. “Making women think that putting on a few pounds is the end of the world. Most guys I know don’t give a rat’s...behind about that.”
She bristled. “It’s my job.”
He winced. “I didn’t mean—” He sighed and gave her that lopsided grin. “I seem to be having an off night. Usually I’m a lot more suave than this.”
When his white teeth flashed and his eyes twinkled like that it was impossible to remain immune to his charm. Besides, it was a reassuring concept. To think that she could quit modeling and eat whatever she wanted, as much as she wanted, and the world would still spin on its axis. Her shoulders sagged. “I shouldn’t be so sensitive. Tell me more about BUD/S.”
His attention seemed to turn inward and he remained silent.
“You don’t want to talk about it?”
“No, that’s not it. I’m just not sure any description could do it justice.”
“Please, I’m very curious.” Genuinely, she wasn’t bored at all.
After a brief hesitation, he set down his knife and fork. “Okay.” He took a deep breath, braced his elbows on the table and folded his arms one on top of the other. “The first eight weeks is PT. Physical training. Timed runs, obstacle course, timed swims—and we’re talking in the Pacific. You get used to being frozen, wet and miserable. And no sleep. The worst is Hell Week. I don’t know how many times I almost quit. Our class started with over two hundred guys, and at the end of the six months, only fourteen graduated.”
“Wow.”
“Bellamy was always first to finish everything. Push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups. I’d come straggling in last—or not even finish—and have to do it all over again. Except swimming. Like I said, being good in the water saved me.
“The next eight weeks we still ran the beach, the obstacle or O-course, but we were mainly in the water. Swimming, diving, SCUBA, underwater combat. Holding your breath till you think your lungs will explode.”
Piper couldn’t imagine. Why would anyone volunteer for such hardship?
“The last nine weeks we learned weapons, demolition, patrolling, rappelling and marksmanship.”
“Why put yourself through all that?”
His expression hardened. “My father asked me the same thing. He wanted me to go to law school like him.” He shook his head. “I think he had aspirations of me becoming president someday. But there was no way I was going into politics like my old man.”
He drew in a breath, sat back and, slowly, his eyes lost their glow of resentment. But his jaw was still set with grim determination. “I wanted that trident pin. Like my uncle. I wanted to make my life count for something.”
It occurred to Piper that she was holding her breath. His passion for what he did overwhelmed her. Made her feel horribly insignificant. Neil ensured the safety of millions. She hadn’t even been able to save her brother.
He blinked and reached across the table for her hand. “I’m sorry. I’ve never talked this much about myself in my life.”
His fingers heated her, and she curled her hand inward and pulled her fist down into her lap. “I asked you.”
“Still, not exactly an appetizing topic.” Belying his words, he grabbed up his fork and made short work of finishing his steak and potato. Piper forced a few bites of the salad.
“You don’t like the wine?” He finished what was left in his glass and gestured with the stem toward her barely touched one.
She blinked. She’d forgotten about it? “Oh, no, it’s very good.” She grabbed up the glass and swallowed a mouthful.
He stood. “Let’s get out of here.” Without waiting for her response, he motioned to the waiter for a check and signed it, then came around to pull her chair out for her.
Before she could think, he’d taken her hand, helped her into one of the cabs waiting outside, and instructed the driver to take them to The Heat Wave.
The nightclub? Deafening music, flowing alcohol, hordes of bodies all moving to the pounding rhythm in dark anonymity. A place like that was like a drug to her. A drug she’d denied herself for months. Oh, to slip onto the dance floor and lose herself in the intoxicating tempo. She could press against Neil’s hard body and feel his pulse match up with hers. Maybe the press would follow them, snap some pictures... Maybe that would make up for not being seen at the gala tonight. She could even go home with Neil. Spend the night in his arms. And, at least for now, ease the unspeakable loneliness.
But the counselor in rehab had warned her to stay away from old triggers. To try to rise above doing whatever felt good—but was bad—in the moment. And she needed that contract with Modelle so she could afford the private investigators.
She clutched Neil’s arm. “No!”
* * *
NEIL STILLED IN SURPRISE. She didn’t want to go to a nightclub and dance? He’d almost suggested a walk along the beach and then thought better of it. A beautifully exotic woman like Piper, in her slinky dress and heels, walking in the sand and surf? So he’d figured she’d want to dance. Be around a crowd closer that was familiar to her.
She fell back against the seat and rubbed her forehead. “Look, I’m knackered. Can we just go back to my hotel?”
We? Was she inviting him back to her hotel? Desire for her had been a slow burn inside him all evening, waiting for a spark of hope to show itself. Clay was right. Neil had been living like a monk the past six months.
But Neil had pretty much written off the possibility of anything happening with Piper once dinner had started and they’d talked. In some ways, it’d felt like confiding in a close friend. He’d never told anyone about finding his uncle’s letters before. Not Lyndsey, not even Clay. Yet he’d also made a couple of colossal blunders.
“Sure. Where’re you staying?”
“The Saint-Tropez, please.” She answered him and addressed the cabbie at the same time.
The woman was a grenade of contradictions. Her face was a mask of coldness. But her hand trembled. She projected an air of confidence. But she had moments where she seemed unsure of herself and her place in the world. Like now.
She kept her body away from his, leaning toward the opposite window. Though her hand was splayed across the seat and her fingers touched the side of his thigh. She was driving him crazy. He was completely clueless about what she wanted. He’d have to wing it.
Luckily, SEALs were trained to think on their feet.
In no time they pulled up to the Saint-Tropez. Neil paid the cab driver and exited, reaching back to lend Piper his hand. As she stepped elegantly out of the taxi, she was instantly swarmed by clamoring paparazzi. As lightbulbs flashed from all sides, she stiffened. Instinctively, Neil slid a protective arm around her shoulders and pressed her close. But she pulled away and gave a brilliant smile. The crowd shouted her name and stuck cell phones and cameras in her face. Piper posed and looked in the direction her name was called.
Setting his jaw, he shoved through the reporters and propelled her forward, forcing his way through the mob until suddenly they were in the quiet of the hotel lobby.
A few people with cell phones were snapping pictures. He glared at them until they wandered away, then, arm still around her shoulders, he guided her to a secluded sitting area.
Her body was tucked into his, her soft curves flattening against his side. She turned, placed her hands on his chest and looked up. He’d never seen eyes that color. So light a green they were almost silver. And her lips were full and lush. As her lips parted, he caught his breath, lowering his head to kiss her.
At the last second she shifted away, offering her right hand. “Nice to meet you, Neil. Thanks for dinner.”
Before he could blink she was heading for the elevators, leaving him alone and...lonely?
“Hey.” He bolted after her.
She turned and raised a brow, her face the same mask of coldness it had been earlier.
“Can I see your phone a sec?”
She hesitated, but then retrieved it from her minuscule handbag and held it out.
Neil took it, punched in his cell number and placed it back in her hand. “I’m going to be in town until next weekend. Maybe we could see each other again.” Clasping her slender shoulders, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, then walked away.
A half hour later, he claimed a stool next to Clay at the Bay City Bar and Grill.
Clay smirked. “What are you doing here?”
Neil shrugged, motioning to the bartender for a beer. “Beats me.”
“Unbelievable.” Clay shook his head. “Only Straight Arrow Barrow would strike out with a sure thing like Piper.”
“Uh, Bellamy. Why are you sitting here?”
“Hey, I haven’t even started yet.” Clay chuckled. “Women.”
The bartender handed him a brown longneck and Neil clinked his bottle with Clay’s. “Ain’t that the truth?” He took a sip, playing back the evening in his mind.
A sure thing? He didn’t think so.
Maybe Piper had suddenly become exhausted in the cab. But he doubted it. She’d barely touched her wine, and she’d downright panicked at the suggestion of the nightclub. Only two conclusions could be drawn. Either Piper’s antics as a bad girl were purposefully exaggerated—by her publicity team or by the press—or her behavior had undergone a dramatic change. Which was it?
It surprised him how badly he wanted to find out.
3 (#ulink_5180e852-20bc-5c3f-b5b0-f6921d9c29c2)
GO TIME!
Adrenaline pumping, Neil jumped from the helo and fast roped down to the deck of the enemy ship. Pulling his MP-5 over his shoulder, he scanned the area while the rest of his platoon scrambled down. Once everyone landed, they headed below to secure the crew.
Neil darted right, while Deep-dish took the left. Weapon ready, Neil opened the first cabin door and stepped onto...
A white sandy beach. A cool breeze brushed through green palm fronds, and a salty tang hit his nostrils. Seagulls squawked and the surf crashed onto shore. He studied the coastline and spied Piper in the waves, modeling in a hot pink string bikini. She saw him and smiled seductively, wiggling her fingers in greeting.
As if he were watching a film on fast-forward, the tide raced in and the sun set seemingly into the ocean. When the pace slowed to normal, the cameras and her photographer had disappeared. He was alone with Piper and she was in his arms, pressing her lips to his neck. She called his name and let out a soft sigh. Then his mouth was on hers, giving and taking, until she pulled away, laughing, and ran down to the water’s edge. He gave chase.
Catching up to her, he grabbed her around the waist and they fell into the surf, tumbling over each other as they kissed madly. Instantly, he was alone again, lying in the hot desert sand, his arms empty. He looked off to the distance and Iraqi oil fires burned, sending up plumes of black smoke that smothered the sky.
With a groan, Neil woke up, tense, hard and pulsing. He rolled to his back and ran his hands over his face and through his hair. What a dream. Maybe he shouldn’t have checked online about Piper before he turned in.
He’d gone down a Piper rabbit hole last night. She was everywhere, he’d discovered, modeling clothes, makeup and jewelry. She’d made the cover of most major magazines and he could see why. The camera loved the exotic quality about her that he’d witnessed firsthand. And those pictures of her in fancy lingerie had literally haunted his dreams.
He threw back the covers and jumped out of the comfortable hotel bed, slipped on his shorts and T-shirt and headed down to the beach. The sun was just peeking above the horizon and the dawn sky was turning the clouds neon orange. His favorite time of day.
Out of habit, he scanned his surroundings, looking for anything out of place. But the beach was mostly deserted. Only two other runners were anywhere close as he hit the sand at a fast jog toward the hotel where he’d dropped Piper off. Yeah, he knew it was a long shot. But a man made his own luck.
Neil couldn’t believe how badly he wanted to see her again. He was a simple man. He’d strived for a simple life. Piper was complication personified. And he’d had enough complications lately dealing with the fallout from his disastrous marriage.
That was two failed relationships now: first Alexandra—or Alex—and second Lyndsey. He had to conclude that he was doing something wrong. Some flaw in him he couldn’t see. One that involved choosing the wrong mate.
Every SEAL knew the divorce rate in their line of work was higher than average, but he thought he’d chosen carefully when he’d proposed to his childhood friend, literally the girl next door. Clay had warned him about Lyndsey, but then, Clay had vowed never to marry.
Neil scoffed at this train of thought. As if he would, or even could marry a lingerie model. As if she would be interested in a beat-up special-ops guy when she could have any man on the planet. He thought about last night, when she’d sat across from him, asking him about BUD/S. She’d seemed genuinely interested. But it followed that if she knew how to work a crowd, she could certainly work one guy.
She didn’t seem the type who normally tried to spare people’s feelings. When he’d covered her hand with his, she’d practically yanked it away. But not before he’d felt it tremble beneath his touch.
The shoreline curved and Piper’s hotel came into view. As he approached, he wished he’d asked for her number instead of giving her his. But he’d rolled the dice and she needed to be the one to make the call. Stop second-guessing yourself, Barrow.
He came to a halt and peered up at the ten-story art deco hotel. The top two floors were penthouse suites with wraparound balconies. She was probably in one of them. Lifting his shoulder, he used his sleeve to wipe at the sweat dripping down his temple. What had he thought? That she’d be waiting out there like Juliet for his Romeo? She probably wasn’t even awake.
Disgusted with himself, he left and headed back the way he’d come. Tonight he’d be Clay’s wingman at that honky-tonk joint. Piper wasn’t the only woman in Miami.
Even if he couldn’t seem to get her out of his head.
Clear your thoughts.
After another mile he finally slipped into the zone, his body on autopilot. Sounds faded except for the rhythmic thud of his feet hitting the packed sand. He concentrated on the air inhaled through his nose and exhaled from his mouth. By the time he returned to his hotel, he’d restored equilibrium.
As he jogged up to the rear entrance, he spied a guy lurking off to the side. Pulling out his hotel key card, Neil kept one eye on the suspicious figure as he took the steps up from the beach.
“Lieutenant Barrow!” The guy jumped forward and stuck a minirecorder in his face. Neil barely stopped the heel of his palm from connecting with the moron’s nose. “How long have you and Piper been lovers?”
“What?” Neil stared at the guy in disbelief.
“Were you the reason Piper broke Brad Benton’s heart?”
“You people must be hard up for a story.” Swiping his key card, he yanked the door open and entered the hotel.
He was stepping out of the shower when three hard knocks rapped on his door. He dried off, wound a towel around his waist and then checked the peephole before opening the door for his friend.
“Seen the morning headlines?” Clay strode in, tossing several tabloids onto the desk.
Neil glanced at the first one. A grainy and unflattering photo of him with Piper as they were getting out of the cab took up the entire top fold of the front page. The caption was ridiculous.
The Hero and the Bad Girl!
He slid the top tabloid aside. The second one was worse. It featured a similar photo, only in this one he had his arm around her as they headed into the hotel.
Troubled Supermodel Shows Off New Lover!
Neil shook his head and continued to read. “Piper’s new man is a navy SEAL and son of conservative Senator Barrow from Virginia.” Oh, wouldn’t his father love that.
A Model of Good Behavior? “Has Piper reformed or is the SEAL taking a walk on the wild side?”
“I think this one’s my favorite.” With a wink, Clay grabbed up the last one. Neil snatched it from him.
Pipsea! Piper Caught in Steamy Affair With Navy SEAL.
What the— Pipsea? Their names had been shipped? No, wait. It wasn’t even his name, but his profession.
Clay sauntered over to the minifridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “So I get to call you Pipsea now?”
“You do and it’ll be the last thing you remember.”
“You know your old man’s gonna have a fit when he sees this, right?”
As if on cue, Neil’s cell rang. He checked the ID and then sighed, thumb hovering while he glared at Clay. “What’d you do, conjure him up with some weird voodoo spell?”
Clay looked offended. “Hey, just because my grandmamma was Cajun—”
Neil grinned and clicked Accept. “Barrow.”
“Hold for Senator Barrow, please,” a woman’s voice said, then silence. He almost hung up. But he’d only be put on hold the next time. He clicked Speaker and tossed the phone on the bed while he went into the bathroom to dress, still on hold.
When he emerged, Clay was lounging on the club chair, flipping through the tabloid and munching on a granola bar, also from his fridge.
“You already eat everything from your own room?”
Clay opened his mouth to answer.
“Neil, what have you done now?” His father’s voice boomed over the phone.
Clay signaled a five-minute warning to go time, and then stepped out to the balcony.
Thankful for the rescue he knew would be coming in five minutes, Neil grabbed his phone and took it off speaker. “Good morning to you, too, sir.”
“How could you get your name in the tabloids? If you’re going to cheat on your wife, couldn’t you at least be discreet?”
“Ex-wife. And you should know better than to believe anything you read in those rags, Dad.”
“Whether it’s true or not is irrelevant. What matters is public perception.”
“The truth doesn’t matter? Spoken like a true politician.”
“Maybe you can afford to be flippant, but my staff is fielding calls from every major news outlet. And thanks to your impending divorce, my poll numbers are already down. Or did you forget this is an election year?”
Neil never forgot election years. His father never let him.
“Neil? Did you hear me? Drop that Piper tramp and come back to your wife before it’s too late.”
Tramp? Neil ground his teeth. “Tell Mother I won the yacht race for her charity.” He hung up.
* * *
PIPER SLEPT LATE.
She’d lain in bed for hours last night thinking about the evening. Was that what a real date was like? At first, it’d been...nice. There’d been no game playing. No hidden agendas. Neil might’ve tried to take her dancing, but he hadn’t turned all macho when she’d ended the night early.
She hugged her pillow and relived the feel of his strong arm around her as he’d tried to shield her from the paparazzi. Another first. Not feeling so...alone. For a few blessed moments she’d let go and let someone else bear the burden.
If she was honest, that was probably why she’d scurried up to her room on her own last night. The energy that had sizzled between her and Neil in the lobby when she’d looked into his eyes? It had frightened her how badly she’d wanted to invite him up to her room. But that would’ve changed things between them. And not for the better.
A few months ago she wouldn’t have thought twice about sleeping with a man like that. But after the nasty incident at the cruise terminal, she’d had an epiphany of sorts. She’d looked back on her behavior the past five years, ever since she’d gotten control of her own money. And she’d been rather ashamed of herself. What would Nandan think of her?
Once she finally had fallen asleep her dreams were of her brother. Always of him. Always a variation of the same nightmare she’d had since landing in London. She and Nandan climbing over the great mountain of rubbish in Delhi—amazing how the stench could smell so real in a dream. Nandan joyously finding a half-eaten roti. They’d shared the flatbread that day. A good day. But the dream always distorted into her searching and searching for Nandan, wandering the streets, calling her brother’s name until she woke up crying.
Wiping her eyes, she sat up and padded to the bathroom to splash water on her face. A quick brush of her teeth, then she pulled on her workout clothes and went to the hotel gym for her two-hour regime.
By the time she’d returned, showered and dressed, Ragi was at the door. Piper let her in, and then sat at the table, her stomach growling.
Ragi was beaming, carrying a stack of newspapers and Piper’s protein shake. “It worked!” She dropped the papers onto the table.
“What worked?” Piper took the shake with a grimace. What she wouldn’t give for a rasher of bacon and eggs.
“The visit to the children’s hospital. And your date with the SEAL. The press has gone wild speculating about your affair. They’re saying you must have reformed your bad-girl ways since this hero is dating you.”
Piper read one of the headlines. “Oh, no.” Her stomach cramped.
“What do you mean, oh, no?” Ragi sat down on the other chair, scrolled through her mobile and then thumbed a short text message to someone before looking up. “This is what we wanted.”
“Ragi, this paper says that we’re lovers. How is that good?”
Ragi waved away the concern. “As long as they don’t have naked pictures of you two together or—” she gave Piper a meaningful glare “—another sex tape, it’s all good.” She pointed at one newspaper. “This one says that’s why you visited the children’s hospital, because this guy is a good influence on you. The PR firm is already spinning the story of you dating a navy SEAL. Trust me. Now, what time are you seeing him tonight? I’ve just scheduled you to visit the veteran’s facility this afternoon, isn’t that perfect? The press will be there, so be sure to find a navy vet and—”
“No.”
“Get your pic—what?”
“Ragi, I won’t exploit men and women who’ve been wounded in the service of their country. I’m not going.”
“It’s not exploitation. It’s bringing attention to their plight.”
“And I’m not going to see Neil again.”
“But your PR people want you to. This could be better for your career than a dozen charity events.” Her assistant acted as if the subject was settled.
“Ragi, it’s not fair to use him to fix my career. Besides, I have that lingerie shoot in Sweden next week. I thought we were leaving for the UK tomorrow. Won’t the press just label me a callous heartbreaker again?”
“Not fair to him how? He’s a senator’s son. I’m sure he’s accustomed to handling a little publicity. And we can stay in Miami for a few more days. Get some sun, repair your rep here. That’s the beauty of having a SEAL for a boyfriend. If he’s always away on a secret mission, how can they blame you for not being with him?”
“Boyfriend? Ragi, this is barmy.”
“Look, I’m only quoting the PR firm you hired, and for now they want you to keep seeing him. I’m sure Lieutenant Barrow will be more than happy to be seen escorting you around town.”
Piper made herself drink her shake. Could it be true? Would her appearance at this facility really help raise awareness for injured soldiers? At least the visit to the children’s hospital yesterday had been to raise money. And would Neil not mind the horrible headlines? A thought occurred to her. Maybe he’d asked her out for this very reason. To get his name—or his father’s—in the papers.
She pictured him sitting across the dinner table from her last evening. Listening to him talk about his training, watching how his jaw had clenched when he told her about earning the gold pin, and the sincerity in his eyes when he’d talked about honor.
No one should ever make you feel stupid.
She glanced over at Ragi. “I would like to see him again...”
“Good.” She snatched up Piper’s phone and extended it to her. “You said he gave you his number. Call and invite him out tonight.”
Piper accepted the phone. “Out where?”
With an I’ve-got-this-covered grin, Ragi produced two tickets from her leather satchel. “Courtside seats to a Miami basketball game.”
4 (#ulink_a95d9da9-ddc9-5d68-901d-f51e47938300)
NEIL TURNED THE WHEEL, tacking the sloop, while Clay adjusted the rigging.
“If only we could’ve gone through BUD/S in this kind of water, huh?” Clay called over the flapping sails and slapping waves.
Neil huffed. “Yeah, we could’ve gotten tans instead of frostbite.” He grinned as Clay gave him a look that only someone who’d been through BUD/S would understand. They wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. It had made them who they were.
However, it didn’t stop them from appreciating today’s balmy weather. Heading out to open sea, Neil basked in the warmth of the sunshine and the cool spray of salty water. He was leaning over to grab a bottle of water when his phone buzzed. Motioning for Clay to take the wheel, Neil relinquished the helm and then pulled out his cell.
Hav tix to basketball game. Want to go?
“What is it?” Clay asked.
“Piper.” Neil sent Clay a smug grin. “She wants to see me tonight.”
A slow smile spread over Clay’s face. “You dog!”
Neil wasn’t sure what to make of the invitation. After those ridiculous headlines, he figured she’d be upset and he’d never hear from her again. On the other hand, maybe any publicity was good publicity for a supermodel. A professional basketball game wasn’t exactly low profile.
Neil hit Reply and thumbed, Pick u up at 5.
Within a couple of seconds she texted back, Meet u in lobby.
He shoved his phone into his pocket. “Better catch your big one pronto, bro. And I need a rain check on wingman duty tonight.”
Clay looked outraged. “Hey, man! That’s not right—”
“Okay.” Neil moved toward the bow and started releasing the line. “I’ll let the gorgeous model who wants to take me to the playoffs know that I can’t go ’cause I have to babysit my poor, pathetic...”
Clay swore. “Fine, but you owe me. I flew all the way down here on my weekend off just so you wouldn’t be lonely.”
Neil scoffed. “Yeah, ’cause you’re selfless like that.” Checking the line, he trimmed the jib sail. He and Clay had been assigned to different teams after BUD/S, so they’d never served a mission together, but he knew Bellamy would always have his back. He motioned toward the fishing rods. “Let’s catch us a big one.”
* * *
TURNED OUT THEY didn’t catch anything, but they weren’t exactly putting much effort into it. Fishing was more of an excuse to relax on the water, to sit back and shoot the breeze. Neil returned to his hotel room with time to shower and dress for dinner.
At Piper’s hotel, he’d had to shove past the swarm of paparazzi, but as soon as he strode into the Saint-Tropez’s enormous lobby, he scoped her like a sniper honing in on his target. She was standing next to a small woman in a colorful sari. The closer he got to them he could see that Piper’s companion was younger than he’d first assumed and that one side of her face was disfigured by a jagged scar.
When Piper’s gaze met his, he saw nothing except her light green eyes. She gestured toward the smaller woman. “Lieutenant, may I introduce Ragi Bhagat, my assistant?”
The woman bowed from the waist. “Lieutenant Barrow.”
Neil matched her bow and looked up in time to see the approval in her dark brown eyes. Had he passed inspection?
Piper was dressed casually tonight in pressed black jeans and an off-the-shoulder top that revealed burnished dark golden skin. She held up two tickets. “Ragi has secured courtside seats for us.”
“Sounds great.” He looked at Ragi. “Aren’t you coming, Miss Bhagat?”
Her eyes flared in surprise, but she quickly recovered. “I’m not a sports fan.”
Piper cut in. “Do you like basketball, Lieutenant?”
“Neil.” His attention returned to Piper. She sounded apprehensive about pleasing him, but why? Not for the first time he wondered about her motivation. She could have her pick of handsome celebrity types. So what was she doing with him? He was average looking on a good day. Between training and real ops, his body had been squeezed through the wringer more than once and gotten the scars to prove it. But who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? “If it’s got the word ball at the end, I love it. You?”
Piper shrugged. “In the UK, football—or soccer—is very popular.”
“You better go, Piper.” Her assistant urged her toward Neil.
“Oh, yes.” Piper smiled at him.
Neil bowed to the assistant. “Nice to meet you, Ragi.” After the woman bowed in return, he accompanied Piper to the hotel’s main entrance. “So you live in London?” He’d talked so much about himself last night he hadn’t learned anything about her.
“Yes, I have a flat in Eaton Square, but I’m hardly ever there.” She stepped outside and headed for a long white limo waiting under the portico. Guess they weren’t taking a cab tonight.
As he walked beside her, a dozen media parasites closed in with cameras and microphones, all shouting questions.
“Piper, how did you and Lieutenant Barrow meet?”
“How long have you been lovers?”
“Lieutenant Barrow, how does your father feel about your affair?”
These people were leeches. In the abstract, the fantasy of making headlines was amusing. And really, who cared what a bunch of tabloids printed about him? But being hemmed in as he and Piper tried to get to the limo set off every warning siren. Was this what she went through all the time? Why didn’t she have security personnel?
But instead of cursing or shoving the recording devices out of her face, she just flashed that beautiful smile while she clung to his arm. His protective instincts kicked in and he pushed several reporters out of their way. Just as he reached the limo door, another reporter blocked their path.
“Is it true you’re pregnant with the SEAL’s child?”
Neil froze and Piper’s hand on his arm became a death grip. Man, they really did make this stuff up.
But then Piper spun to face the vipers and gave them a playfully scolding look. “You naughty lot.” She wagged her finger. “Lieutenant Barrow and I are merely friends.” She smiled and ducked inside the limo as the driver opened the door. Neil followed her. Just friends, huh? Why hadn’t she flat-out denied the pregnancy?
As soon as they were both in the limo, her scent invaded his senses. Something exotic and full of spices that tightened his gut and made him want to hold her close. He faced her and placed an arm across the back of the seat. “Are we merely friends?”
Her gaze flew to his and her eyes flared in surprise. “You’re very direct.”
He shrugged. “I don’t see any reason to beat around the bush.”
She gave him a quizzical smile. “You Americans and your idioms.”
Leaning toward her, he raised his brows. “You’re not answering the question.”
Her smile faded and her playful gaze became serious. In the silence he could hear her draw in a ragged breath. His own breathing caught. He stared deeply into her eyes as something passed between them. A frisson of energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. In the field, that would’ve been a warning that something was wrong. But with Piper this felt right.
She used her tongue to wet her lips. He stifled a groan. Now all he could see was her full, red mouth. He closed the distance between them, taking her mouth in a searing kiss.
She moaned and he tightened his arms around her, reveling in the feel of her soft curves pressing against him. Just as she had after handing him the trophy, she responded to his kiss, urging him deeper, her tongue playing with his.
After months of coming home to an empty, sterile apartment on base and sleeping alone night after night, he was starved for this woman. That must be why his body was reacting so intensely. His hands couldn’t seem to get enough of her. They moved from her hips to her waist, down her spine to cup her bottom.
Giving him hot, wet kisses, she moaned again and straddled his lap. When she rubbed against his erection, his body hard and needing, he almost cried out. He kissed her neck, across her bare shoulder. He wanted to taste her, to possess her. He slid one hand around to palm her breast.
“No.” Her voice was strangled, but her hand squeezed his wrist, tugged it away.
Neil blinked as the world cleared from its haze. He tried to get his breathing under control. Embarrassment made his face heat as she slid back to her own side of the limo.
“I’m sorry.” He shifted in the seat, his erection outraged at the aborted mission.
What was wrong with him? He’d never felt that out of control with a woman before. Certainly not with his wife. He ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to look at her. “I shouldn’t have— Maybe I misread the signals.”
“No!” Her gaze flew to his. She put her hand on his arm. “I— You didn’t.” Her eyes seemed to plead with him to understand. He didn’t, but maybe...he did. He covered her hand with his and turned away to look out the window at the bay. They were already on the MacArthur Causeway.
In the awkward silence he heard her stomach rumble. He looked over in time to catch her self-consciously rubbing her midsection.
“I’m starving, too,” he said.
She smiled and her shoulders visibly relaxed. “I didn’t eat lunch.”
“Why?”
She glanced down, running her fingers over the seams of her purse. “I just...” She shrugged. “I was scheduled to appear at a veterans’ facility this afternoon.” She scoffed. “Appear. How condescending that word sounds. As if I was deigning to grace them with my presence. The men and women I visited with are more brave and selfless than I could ever be.” She stared at him, unflinching. “Like you.”
Brave and selfless? His chest tightened. Good old brave and selfless Straight Arrow Barrow. But he didn’t want to be some knight in shining armor, superhero type, guy on a pedestal. He was flesh and blood. With flesh-and-blood needs. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know about that, but I could definitely go for a hot dog and some nachos right about now.”
“I shouldn’t eat that type of thing.”
“Oh, yeah.” He nodded, smiling. “I forgot. Should we stop somewhere for a salad?”
As she met his gaze, her worried expression slowly turned mutinous. “No.”
* * *
FORGET HER DIET. The frank’s juicy aroma enticed her as soon as they drew up to the snack vendor. She ordered a hot dog with mustard and relish piled on top, chips dripping with gooey cheese and a soda in a cup so large she doubted she could finish the entire thing.
But she did.
It was delicious. It was sinful. Ms. H would’ve never approved.
But she wasn’t under Ms. H’s thumb anymore, was she?
Piper licked her lips and smiled at Neil as he cheered for the men bouncing the ball across the court. Despite the flash of photographers’ cameras and the red blinking lights of video filming, he seemed to be having a good time.
“I’m sorry about all the press,” she said.
“Are you kidding? These are courtside seats. And this is the playoffs.”
Whatever that meant. Piper couldn’t have cared less about basketball, but she was having a smashing time, too. Neil was a perfect gentleman. If it hadn’t been for the tingling of her lips and flutter in her stomach, she might have thought she’d imagined the amazing kiss in the limo.
No, not a kiss. It’d been so much more. She’d felt as if she were engulfed in a powerful force of passion and, oddly, comfort. Wrapped in his arms, surrounded by him, she’d felt as if, for that moment at least, everything would be all right.
“Want some more nachos?” Neil spoke loudly into her ear over the shouting fans and the stomp of athletes’ shoes on the court.
She glanced down at her empty plastic tray, and then shook her head. “I can’t believe I ate all this.” She’d have to begin a liquid diet tomorrow.
“How long are you in town? Are you doing a photo shoot, or just handing out trophies to schmucks like me?”
“I fly to Sweden next week. But I may not fit into the lingerie after all this.” She patted her stomach.
After studying her a moment, Neil took the empty tray and cup from her. “Be right back.” He got up and disappeared down the corridor beside their floor section.
Had she ruined everything by admitting that? But what was there to ruin? It was a couple of dates. She was leaving in a few days. So was he.
Then, why did she feel as if she might’ve just lost something important?
He returned empty-handed a few minutes later, taking his seat beside her and smiling as if she hadn’t just admitted to all her bad behavior.
“I thought maybe I’d disgusted you.”
He whipped around to stare at her incredulously. “No way.” He took her hand and grasped it between both of his. They were such masculine hands. Tanned and rough, with a light dusting of hair on his fingers. So confident. So capable.
“You’re what, twenty-five?” he asked.
“Twenty-three.”
“Jeez, you’re a kid.”
“Then, why do I feel so ancient?” She finally looked up at him. Her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze.
“Hey, I don’t know anyone who didn’t pull some stupid stunts when they were young. You just had more money and more people watching you than the rest of us.”
A lump of emotion tightened her throat. There was that feeling again. Safe. Protected. Everything would be all right. She squeezed his hand.
When everyone jumped to their feet and cheered loudly, he remained seated, his attention on her. “You’ve done a lot of living in your twenty-three years, huh?”
Had she? In terms of all the things she really wanted to do, she’d barely lived at all. Besides, nothing else mattered until she found her brother. She refused to think Nandan might not be alive. Was he hurting, though? Hungry? Wondering why she didn’t come find him? The latest report from her private investigators had turned up nothing new. She couldn’t think about what might have happened to Nandan without wanting a drink.
“Hey, you okay?” Neil tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
She made herself smile. “Brilliant.”
Checking a thick complex-looking silver watch on his left wrist, he stood and then tugged her up. “It’s late, Piper. Let’s get you home.”
Home. Her hotel room wasn’t home. But neither was her flat in London. Not yet. Not without her brother. “But the game isn’t over. Aren’t they going to play off tonight?”
His demeanor lightened and he tipped his head back and laughed. The crinkles around his eyes and brackets by his mouth deepened when he smiled. His straight white teeth dazzled against his tanned face. Laughing. Smiling. He seemed so easygoing, so carefree. So...normal. She wanted that.
Quickly frowning, he swiped a hand over his rugged chin. “What? Did I get mustard somewhere?”
He looked so adorably self-conscious that she giggled and reached up to touch his cheek. “No, you’re fine.”
He stilled and covered her hand with his. “Come back to my place tonight.”
Well, that answered that. After the kiss in the limo, he clearly expected bad-girl Piper to fall right into bed with him.
Cameras flashed. Reporters closed in.
Neil glared at them all. She jerked her hand away, clearing her expression, adopting a cool nonchalance.
Being seen with a navy hero for her career was one thing. Letting herself feel something for him was quite another. And she’d already made a fool of herself over Brad. What was the saying? Fool me once... Fool me twice...
Twisting around to grab her bag, she repaired the chink in the armor around her heart. “I think I should just go back to my hotel,” she said as she straightened.
The heat left his eyes and he smiled. “Sure.”
* * *
NEIL COULD TAKE a hint. The lady wasn’t interested. He’d like to sweep her off her feet, carry her to her room and make love to her in her bed all night long, but he’d received her message loud and clear.
Still, this time he was determined to walk her to her door. She frowned at him when he stepped into the elevator beside her. He wanted to reassure her, palms up, “Just seeing a lady to her door, that’s all.”
She blinked at him, that funny look in her eyes again. As if she didn’t believe he was for real. He figured the lady had been lied to one too many times. But he could wander around in those light green eyes of hers for days and never care that he was lost. When she focused her attention on him, he couldn’t seem to care much about anything else.
As they reached her door, she fidgeted with her key card, avoiding his gaze. “I had a marvelous time tonight, Neil. Thank you.” Her smile was purely for show. What was going on here?
“Piper.” He cupped her elbow, laid his other hand gently along her jaw. “Whether you sleep with me or not, I still want to see you again.” He inched closer, lowering his head, bringing his lips within millimeters of hers, but he didn’t make contact. This time it had to be her decision.
Her lids closed and her mouth touched his. The kiss was combustible. Deep, full of need and something else. A longing. Maybe just for sex, but it felt like more. As if she was asking him for something, but he didn’t know what.
He took her face between his palms and angled his head, craving her. As he moved down the column of her throat kissing her, she gave a sigh and then abruptly stepped back.
“Good night, Neil.”
Before he could formulate a question, she inserted her key card into the lock and disappeared behind the door.
Neil stood there, his body aching, his mind confused.
Some bad girl she was turning out to be.
But he felt more alive than he had in years.
5 (#ulink_1f3f9d53-44b3-563e-86c3-efe388d14b78)
“AND WHAT’S UP these days with everybody’s favorite bad girl, Desiree’s Desire supermodel Piper?”
Neil froze with a fork full of scrambled eggs midway to his mouth and stared at the fifty-inch television mounted on the wall of the hotel’s breakfast room.
Two chirpy morning-show hosts were seated on a bright yellow sofa before the screen switched to a photo of Piper posing in a set of dark red lacy lingerie.
“She’s been seen on the arm of a true American hero, a navy SEAL and son of a Virginia senator. Is Piper renouncing her wicked ways?”
“Or,” the second host continued as more photos flashed on the screen, “is the senator’s son living la vida loca down in Miami?” The photos were of Neil and Piper at the basketball game and outside the Saint-Tropez.

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