A Sexy SEAL Novella Anthology (13 page)

He’d made Gwen lose control once.

Hell, he’d made her lose it thousands of
times—only hundreds of which had been while they were naked.

He might have to work a little harder than
he’d planned, but one way or the other, he’d make her lose it
again.

“Don’t you want to hear what I’ve been up to
the last three years? Ask me about the places I’ve seen?” He
stepped forward, letting his grin ease into a smile of remembrance.
She’d always quizzed him like a game show host when he’d come home
on leave before. “Want to know how many cuisines I’ve tasted now?
Or see pictures from around the world?”

Once, she’d have done all of that. Three
years ago he’d entertained the idea of bringing her with him to
live on whatever foreign base he was assigned. Then he’d remembered
that most of those assignments would be top secret, temporary and
treacherous.

So he’d left her instead.

His smile dimmed.

“Why would I want to hear about anything
you’ve done or anywhere you’ve seen?” she countered in a coolly
puzzled tone that dismissed the idea as ridiculous.

“Because it’s a big world out there and
you’re curious about all the fun it holds,” he said quietly,
quoting one of her favorite sayings. “You remember all the places
we talked about, don’t you? The ones we wanted to see
together.”

Her eyes flashed hot. Then her lashes swept
down before he could tell if they’d sparked with anger or pain.
Noah’s gut clenched. He could handle the anger. Meet it, greet it,
use it.

But pain? He hated that thought.

“Thanks to the internet, the world is much
smaller than it used to be. Anything I want to see or know, I can
find myself,” she said, jerking one silky white shoulder in
dismissal.

“You have changed,” he murmured.

“Of course I’ve changed. It’s been three
years, Noah. What’d you think?” She gave him a derisive look, her
eyes skimming from the top of his neatly shorn head to the tips of
his glossy dress shoes. “Did you expect me to lock myself in a box,
pining away for you like a sad schoolgirl?”

It wasn’t the smart-ass comment that
bothered him. He had a fine appreciation for Gwen’s mouthy remarks.
It was the ring of truth in her voice. The lack of heat in her eyes
now. And the absolute indifference in her body language.

She’d not only learned control, she’d
mastered it.

That shouldn’t piss him off. It wasn’t like
he’d wanted her waiting at home, what’d she called it? Pining for
him? When they’d agreed that ending their affair was the right
thing to do, he’d told her to get on with her life. And he’d
expected her to do exactly that.

But he didn’t know this new Gwen.

Did that mean she no longer got that little
hiccup when she laughed or that she no longer gave that soft sigh
just before she drifted into sleep? Had she quit tearing up over
holiday movies or lost her taste for those pecan cookies she used
to gobble up? What about her dreams, her goals? Were those
different, too?

That he didn’t know drove him crazy. That he
might never find out again was like a knife in his gut.

Irritated at how lost that made him feel, he
shoved his clenched fists into the pockets of his slacks.

He’d known what he was giving up when he’d
walked away. And for the last three years, he’d told himself he was
okay with that.

But now he wasn’t.

He wanted Gwen back. He didn’t know for how
long, or for what purpose. That’s what he’d come home to find
out.

As if reading his mind, Gwen shook her
head.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but it’s
not going to work, Noah,” she told him, a tiny frown creasing her
brow. “Let me go inside before someone sees us out here and gets
the wrong idea.”

Noah was a man with many failings, all of
which he readily acknowledged. He was pig-headedly stubborn,
focused to the point of having tunnel vision and held a grudge like
it was the Holy Grail. He liked to be right, and had a good enough
ego to know he usually was. He buried his sentimental streak deep,
refused to admit mistakes and didn’t believe that happiness could
last.

And he couldn’t resist a challenge.

Like the one standing there dismissing him
with that look of chilly indifference.

“Why?” he countered, his tone just as cold
as hers. “Are you afraid to be seen with me?”

The pitying look in her eyes was a work of
art.

“Why on earth would I be afraid of anything
to do with you?”

“Maybe you’re worried gossip about the two
of us will get back to good ole Russell.” He was forced to stop and
swallow before he could get any more words past the bitterness in
his throat. He had no right, he knew he had no right, to be angry
that she’d hooked up with a mutual friend. But, dammit, he was.
“Gossip that might mess up you achieving your ultimate goal.”

“Which would be what, exactly?”

Noah reached out to lift a strand of hair,
rubbing the heavy silk between his fingers as he gave her a long
look. He was close enough to see her pupils dilate and the pulse at
her throat jump before she moved away so fast she almost
stumbled.

He was man enough to admit he liked her
reaction.

“A marriage proposal, of course.”

What the hell was wrong with people?

Gwen wanted to scream.

She actually wanted to storm into that
ballroom, stand on a table in the very middle of the room and
scream at the top of her lungs. She’d even tug on her hair and
stomp her feet if it’d make any difference.

Why did they all think she was getting
married? Why did they even think she wanted to? She’d never once
indicated that marriage was a goal of hers. The only time in her
life that she’d even wondered it might be was when she and Noah
were dating. And his dumping her for his career and a lame-ass vow
had pretty neatly disabused her of
that
notion.

What was with New Year’s Eve?

First she’s bombarded by memories, none of
which made her feel like kicking up her heels and celebrating. Then
the biggest temptation of her life struts back through the door
looking as sexy as sin and emotionally off-limits. Now she finds
out—from multiple sources, no less—that her boss, a guy she’d
always thought of as a friend, wanted to marry her?

Gwen felt like a champagne bottle, all shook
up and ready to burst. And here she was in skyscraper heels. How
could she keep from exploding if she couldn’t pace?

Since table dancing in these shoes was out,
Gwen shoved both hands into her hair, tugging to try to relieve the
pressure building inside her head.

“I’m not getting married,” she finally said,
as much to get Noah to stop staring at her as out of a wish that
saying the words out loud would stop the craziness.

“You turned him down?”

Was that pleasure in his voice? Gwen studied
his face with narrowed eyes, but he was too good at hiding his
feelings for her to tell.

“I’m pretty sure any right you had to ask
personal questions ended, oh when was it? Three years ago?” she
countered, hoping her voice didn’t shake. “So whatever I’m doing,
whoever I’m seeing? Those are none of your business.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” He gave her one of those long,
considering looks that made her feel as if he were staring into her
soul, tapping into her deepest hopes and dreams. “But now I’m
making it my business.”

Was this for real? Maybe she was really home
having a nightmare brought on by her traditional New Year’s Eve
binge on ice cream, wine and Sees chocolates.

But she knew better.

Because in her dreams, even the most painful
ones, Noah never came back.

Which meant this was real. All of it. The
delicious temptation standing there, just three feet away, was
actually Noah in all his gorgeousness.

And in his own words—holy crap, had she
really heard him right?—Noah was here to hit on her.

Panic gripped her belly, turning her knees
to water and sending her heart into her toes.

If hitting on her was his goal for tonight,
she had to stop him before he tried. Because despite the heartache
and pain she’d gone through when he left, the man was a too good to
resist.

Too good looking.

Too gorgeous naked.

Too good in bed.

And too good at persuading her to do things
that she knew she shouldn’t.

Ready to do them without persuasion,
desperate to stop her thoughts, Gwen grabbed the first distraction
she could think of.

“Where did you hear Russell is going to
propose?” she challenged, both because she wanted to know and
because she really, really wanted to wipe that smug look off of
Noah’s face. Why did he always have to look so damned good? Even
while most of her wanted to shove him aside and storm out of his
life the way he’d run out of hers, the rest of her wanted to lick
the clothes right off that deliciously tempting body of his.

A fact he looked quite aware of as he leaned
against the marble column and gave her that wickedly crooked smile
of his.

“Let’s see, where did I hear?” he mused,
tapping his fingers on his thigh. “I got it from Sam at Christmas
who got it from Bryanna whose friend overheard Russell telling Eli
when he was here on leave.”

Her lips moved as she silently worked
through the twists of the gossip vine. When comprehension dawned in
one fell swoop, like the famous New Year’s ball dropping, her mouth
fell open.

“You’re here because you thought I was
getting engaged,” she realized not tempering her smile as delight
tangled with irritation at his highhandedness and shock that he’d
even care.

“I’m home on leave for New Years,” he
pointed out. “And this is my little brother’s engagement
party.”

“Uh huh.” She wanted to giggle. One brow
arched, Gwen crossed her arms under her breasts and angled her hip
to one side, making sure her expression was just as cocky. “You
came back because you’re jealous.”

“Of Russell?” Noah’s laugh was pure ego.
“You’re kidding, right?”

Well, that took care of her giggling urges.
It took all her willpower to keep her expression from dropping.

When Noah took a step toward her, close
enough to touch, close enough to hold, she lifted her hand to stop
him.

“No. Don’t touch me.”

“So you are afraid of people gossiping,” he
accused in an angry tone they both knew he had no right to use.

But he didn’t touch her.

Instead, Noah paced.

He strode along the balcony railing one way.
Then he strode back the other. Over and over, as if he couldn’t
stand staying still.

“I’m not afraid of gossip, but I don’t want
anyone getting the wrong idea.”

Like her.

She really didn’t want to get the wrong idea
herself.

“Like Russell?”

Gwen frowned at Noah. He really
was
jealous. She could tell. He didn’t like to be. She could tell that,
too.

“Russell’s been here and you haven’t,” Gwen
pointed out, not to stir that jealousy. But simply because it was
true.

“And that’s what you’re looking to hook up
with for the rest of your life? Someone who’s around?”

He snorted his disbelief but she could see
the hint of concern in his eyes. But instead of bugging her that he
thought he had any rights where she was concerned, this time it
filled her with a giddily hopeful sort of delight.

It was as if her every dream—at least the
clothed ones-from the last three years were coming true.

Noah was here, right here. Close enough to
touch. Her fingers itched because, oh man, she really wanted to
touch.

And he wanted her.

Her mind reeled with flashbacks of the many
times and many ways he’d wanted her, pleasured her. Need tightened,
low and hot in her belly.

Gwen’s heart tried to climb out of her toes
and do a little happy dance but she squashed it back down.

He wasn’t here because he wanted to spend
his life with her. He wasn’t even here to claim her as his own.

He was here to prove a point. Like a dog
with a bone he’d buried away. He didn’t actually want her for
himself. He simply didn’t like the idea of someone else having
her.

She wished the hurt she felt were strong
enough to douse the hot desire.

“Why would you think it’s any of your
business what I want in a man I’d spend my life with?” she asked
before pointing out, “After all, it’s none of your business.”

“And if I want to make it my business?”

“Then I’d say it’s too late.”

Oh, that hurt. Gwen had to clench her hands
into fists to keep from pressing them against the pain clenched
tight in her belly.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’d rather
have Russell than me?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amused
and shocked as he stopped pacing to shoot her a sardonic look.

Gwen surreptitiously cupped her fingers
around her opposite wrist. Yep, she still had a pulse. Which meant
the answer to that was not only no, it was
hell
no.

But she wasn’t about to tell Noah that.

“How do I put this in sailor speak,” she
mused instead, tapping a finger against her chin and pretending her
insides weren’t shaking. “How about this. Three years ago I offered
you a ride on the love boat and you walked away. Now you can live
with the fact that this ship has sailed.”

“And if I said I was ready to commit?” he
asked, his words as quiet as the night and just as intense. “What
would you say then?”

“Are you?” she asked, her words
breathless.

“Maybe.”

Three years ago she’d have begged to hear
that one single word. Maybe. And knowing she wouldn’t, she’d
offered to wait instead, without a commitment, without any
promises. But Noah, so mired in his belief that a SEAL couldn’t be
anything but, had told her to get on with her life.