A SEAL's Pleasure (18 page)

“You're cooking dinner?” Gabriel frowned. “Couldn't we just do takeout?”

“Oh, now, that'd just be mean,” Livi said, joining them in the entryway. From the look on her face, she hadn't gotten the copacetic memo. Either that, or she'd talked to Tessa.

“For you,” Gabriel said, handing her a bouquet of flowers. He'd gone for the extralarge one, but stopped short of buying chocolates. He wanted to apologize, not kiss ass.

“How lovely,” she said in the same tone she'd probably use if he'd handed her a bag of snails.

Gabriel glanced at Irish, who offered a slight shrug.

Yeah. Livi and Tessa had been talking.

Picturing a very cool evening ahead, Gabriel wished he'd worn long sleeves.

Then Livi tucked the bouquet under one arm and her purse under the other.

“Go on in,” Irish invited. “Drinks and food are on the table.”

“Where are you going?” Confused, he watched as Irish and Livi stepped around him to get to the door.

“There are things I just don't want to see,” Irish said, opening the door for his wife.

“Good luck,” Livi added with a chilly smile just before it shut in Gabriel's face.

Damn.

Gabriel closed his eyes, barely resisting the urge to follow them out. But knowing his CO, Irish would be waiting in the hallway to make sure he didn't do just that.

Knowing what was waiting for him, Gabriel squared his shoulders, smoothed his expression into something hopefully close to dignified and did an about-face for the living area.

“Hello, angel,” he greeted with an easy smile when he stepped into the room. “This is a surprise.”

A damned good-looking one. Being a woman who knew how to make the most of what she had—and more, one who knew just where to stick a knife—Tessa had pulled out all the stops tonight.

She hadn't gone for a revealing dress that screamed sex like some women would have. No, his angel was too smart for that.

Instead, she was wearing a simple black skirt that ended midknee. She'd paired it with an off-the-shoulder T-shirt depicting a skull wearing lipstick that revealed a black tank underneath. Short ankle boots completed her battle gear.

That she was ready for battle was a given.

The only question was, what was her objective?

To make him suffer was a given. But she'd have achieved that with their friends present. So she had bigger aims.

“Did you miss me?” he teased, hoping to irritate her enough that she'd show her hand. Because the sooner he figured it out, the sooner he could end the torture of seeing her and not being able to touch, not being able to taste.

“Were you gone?” she teased, tilting her head to the side so her long curls skimmed over one breast. Gabriel's chest—and other things—constricted. Before he could reply, or even find the breath to consider it, she waved her hand toward the table next to her. “Drink? Something to eat?”

“No, thanks.”

“You really should try something,” she told him, taking a small plate of appetizers and a glass of wine with her as she moved to the couch. “It's excellent. Livi went all out. I think she's trying to appease her guilt over her part in this evening's fun.”

Gabriel rocked back on his heels, impressed with her strategy. She wasn't even going to pretend that this wasn't an ambush. So maybe he shouldn't bother pretending he was okay with it.

“What's the deal?” he asked.

“The deal? Oh, that'd be the unfinished business between us,” she said, shifting so her skirt slid up her leg just a little. Gabriel considered it a credit to his willpower that he didn't lick his lips.

“I thought we wrapped it up pretty well,” he said. “Unless you wanted to get in a few digs about that bet? Or collect on the winnings?”

Figuring that'd piss her off, he steeled himself for the lash of temper.

But Tessa just laughed.

“Silly Romeo,” she chided with a wicked laugh. “I'm an expert at games between the sexes, remember? Did you really think that little ruse would work on me?”

Well, yeah.

“I'll admit, I was surprised to find out about your part in the wedding changes,” she admitted slowly, tapping her finger against her lips as if she was considering her next words. Or just reminding him of how kissably delicious her mouth was. “But only because you hadn't mentioned it while doing everything in your power to help me pull off the ultimate wedding rescue. You did bust your butt helping out after all. Even calling in favors to get a helicopter that'd fly you to the mainland at night, waking vendors, bribing store clerks.”

Gabriel shifted, all but shuffling his feet as he tried to dismiss her words. Harder to ignore was the look of admiration on her face, though.

“You did all the heavy lifting,” he said dismissively. “I just followed orders.”

“Right. Orders. That's what caused the problem that led to the wedding changes, isn't it?” At his scowl, she rolled her eyes. “Don't get your boxers in a twist. Mitch didn't spill any secrets. All he said was that you'd followed orders. Which is good, since that's what you're supposed to do, isn't it? He also mentioned that the mission changed, that the team would have had to go regardless.”

“He wouldn't have.”

“And that is between you and Mitch,” she said with a shrug. “It's impossible for me to argue with confidential information. But knowing the both of you, I can surmise that he did exactly what he thought he had to, just like you did. Since you both have that Boy Scout gene going, I'm sure in both cases it was for the good of the team.”

Gabriel wanted to explain why she was wrong. He wanted to point out the missteps he'd made, the potential problems he'd caused. But he had a feeling she'd react the same way Irish had. By telling him to get over himself.

“What's between you and me, on the other hand, had nothing to do with the good of anybody.” Her voice shifted from reasonable to cold with a flick of those lush lashes. “And for that, you do owe me an explanation.”

“Will you accept it if I offer one?” he challenged.

“Of course.”

Yeah, right. Gabriel knew better, but he also knew that she was right. He owed her more than a brush-off.

“One of the team was gunning to take me down and I kept ignoring him. He pulled a lot of stupid stunts, trying to trip me up. I finally reported him, which is why Irish had to step in to take his place on the mission.”

“And how is this a reason to dump me?” she asked in that same reasonable tone that was driving him crazy.

“I was too distracted by what was happening between us to pay attention,” he snapped. “If I'd been focused like I should have been, I'd have seen that the guy wasn't going to throttle back. I'd have taken steps before things got out of hand.”

“Must suck, seeing the best in people,” she mused. “You do it all the time, you know. Your teammates. This idiot with a chip on his shoulder. Me. You're not blind to the possibilities, Gabriel. You just choose to believe the best.” She slowly rose, her eyes not leaving his as she crossed the room. “How come you can't see the same in yourself?”

“Please. I don't have ego issues,” he said with a hoarse laugh. His hands twitched with need, desperate to touch her. But he knew he was teetering on the edge so he held firm.

“No, you have an amazingly healthy ego,” she agreed. Her hands, apparently, had no rules about touching because she chose that moment to press them to his chest. “But you seem to think you have to walk this narrow line and that one misstep on either side deserves punishment.”

“Not punishment,” he denied, trying to ignore how right, how wonderfully right, her hands felt on his body. “Just accounted for.”

“Was that what you were doing when you blew me off after the wedding?” she asked quietly. “Accounting for your feelings for me because you blame them for your thinking everyone was a team player like you?”

How did she do that? She'd neatly twisted it all around as if he wasn't to blame for what had happened. She'd probably done it the same way she'd worked it out so his hands were gripping her waist despite his intentions not to touch.

“You were right about me,” she told him, the confident mask falling away to show the sweet vulnerability beneath. “I was so worried about my image that I lost myself. I let my reputation as a man-eating vamp convince me that we had no chance of anything beyond hot sex.”

“You're not your reputation,” he said, irritated to see her dismiss herself so easily.

“No?” She smiled a wicked little smile. “Well, then, if I'm not, and if you were right about my letting those worries define me, then you must have been right about the other thing.”

Gabriel knew a trap when he heard it. He knew that if he didn't sidestep, he'd be caught good and solid. But she felt so good in his hands. He felt so good just being with her. So he didn't care. He walked, eyes wide-open, into the trap.

“What other thing?”

“That you and I are so hooked on our images, our reputations, that we're afraid to make changes. Even when not making changes means giving up the person we love.”

Oh, shit.

Had she really said that?

There was a roaring in his ears, but Gabriel was pretty sure she had. Not just because her eyes were huge and vulnerable, but because his heart felt whole for the first time in his life.

His brain threw up caution signs, though, warning him to step carefully. A fall at this point would be treacherous for both of them.

“You know if we do this relationship it's not going to be easy, right?” he warned. “I'm a SEAL. I'm gone a lot of the time. I'll never be able to tell you everything I'm doing, everywhere I am.”

“I know,” she said, the teasing light in her eyes fading as she grew serious. “My best friend married a SEAL, remember? I spent a lot of time asking myself how she could do it, how she could deal with it. But now I know.”

“You do?”

“She loves him.” Tessa shrugged. “Which is why I know I can handle it, too. Because I really do love you.”

Finally letting himself believe that he could really walk this path with Tessa at his side, Gabriel rested his forehead against hers as he whispered, “I love you, too.”

“Forever?”

“Forever,” he agreed.

All it took was a little hop for Tessa to wrap her legs around his waist. Her hands locked behind his neck, she winked and gestured toward the couch.

“Why don't we get started, then?”

“It'll be my pleasure,” he promised.

* * * * *

Read on for an extract from INTRIGUE ME by Jo Leigh
.

1

L
ISA
M
C
C
ABE
MADE
sure no one was close enough to overhear her before she answered her brother's call. “What is it, Logan?”

“Where are you?” he asked. “Why are you whispering?”

“The Moss Street free clinic in the Bronx.” She scanned the crowded waiting room again. “I'm checking out someone for our Hot Guys Trading Cards client.”

“What about the Murphy divorce? I need that wrapped up today. They go to court next week.”

“I typed up the report yesterday. The file's on your desk.” She caught a glimpse of a tall man in scrubs and pulled a folded paper out of her purse.

“I don't see it.”

“Did you check your in-box?” she asked. For a man who was on the verge of taking his security firm to a whole new level with the sting operation he was coordinating, her brother wasn't very organized with his paperwork. To be fair, he had more important things to be thinking about. And he definitely didn't need to be worrying about the divorce cases Lisa handled.

Her attention went to the photocopy of Dr. Daniel Cassidy's trading card while she absently listened to Logan shuffle papers.

Lisa had already deduced that the tall man in scrubs wasn't the object of her investigation—Cassidy was much better looking. His clean-cut dark hair made him look sharp and professional, but his eyes, the color of cognac, were just plain damn sexy.

If she belonged to the Hot Guys Trading Cards dating club she would've snapped up his card based on his looks alone, which was embarrassing to admit since she'd worked her butt off to prove she was more than a “pretty face.” Still, the truth was, she'd do him in a minute. Or would have, in another life. She would never risk it now.

Her fingers traced the lips on the photocopy. They were full, yet masculine, with a hint of—

Logan muttered something.

She straightened, feeling as though she'd been caught in the adult section of the video store. “What?”

“Found it. Hold on while I give it a quick look.”

“Sure.” Lisa went back to studying the doctor's photo—more specifically his lips and how they were a perfect contrast to his square jaw. The image stopped at his shoulders but she'd bet the farm that the rest of his body was equally hot.

Her gaze went to the details on the reverse side of the trading card. Dr. Cassidy was looking to get married, preferred home-cooked meals to dining out, was passionate about using his skills to help people and had a great heart. All this according to Josephine Suarez, the woman who'd submitted his name and photo. If Cassidy himself had provided the information, it would've sounded creepy as hell. But that wasn't how Hot Guys Trading Cards worked.

Each of the women who belonged to the group was required to submit a photo of at least one guy she knew well enough to vouch for. Lisa had learned that not all of the guys knew they were being passed around and ogled. She wondered if Dr. Daniel Cassidy had given his approval.

“Good job. No typos this time, either,” Logan said. “Now, what's this about the free clinic?”

“First, up-yours about the typos. Second, you didn't listen to a word I said last night, did you?”

Her brother grunted. “You didn't say anything about a free clinic.”

A woman bumped Lisa's shoulder and she quickly slipped the paper back into her purse. “I didn't know he was working here until after we spoke,” she said, keeping her voice low. “He shouldn't be, though. Not with his credentials. He's straight up Ivy League all the way. He could be bringing in beaucoup bucks, but instead he's volunteering full-time at a free clinic in the Bronx.”

“So cynical. Maybe he's just a super nice guy.”

She had every reason to be cynical and Logan knew it. But he was teasing her—part of his ongoing attempt to get her to lighten up. “Yeah, because so many of our clients hire us to investigate super nice guys.”

“Fair point, but you realize this client didn't pay enough to merit a field visit,” Logan said. “Hell, for what she paid, all you needed to do was look the guy up on Google and LinkedIn.”

“He's not on LinkedIn.”

“That's weird, but not weird enough to chase him down.”

“So I'm thorough. Shoot me.”

“Tempting.” Logan's chair creaked. “Seriously, don't waste too much time on it,” he said. “I think we might be getting another custody case tomorrow.”

Lisa groaned. She hated those the most.

“Hey, it's the small, slimy stuff that helps pay the rent.”

“True,” she acknowledged. “Which is why I'm thinking about drumming up more Trading Card business.”

“I thought those guys are already vetted.”

“They are. I'm thinking there might be more gold diggers like Heather out there, though, who can't be bothered with a guy who doesn't make enough money.” Lisa heard Logan shuffling more papers around and knew he wasn't listening. Understandable, since the human-trafficking case he was working on was much more interesting than what she was blathering on about. And yes, she was envious, and maybe that was a sign that she might not sleepwalk through the rest of her life. “I've gotta go,” she told him. “We'll talk about it later.”

“Sure. Good.”

As soon as they disconnected, she sighed. Logan wasn't wrong about her wasting time. She knew damn well she was satisfying her own curiosity and calling it diligence. But by the same token, she was serious about trolling for more business for her brother's security firm at the Trading Card lunch meetings. She'd have to become a member, of course, which meant that she'd have to be recommended by someone in the club. Heather was the only member she knew, and then only as a client. But Lisa doubted that would matter to Heather. After all, she'd cheated. The rules let you choose one card at a time, but Lisa had received a photocopy of another doctor's card, as well.

Joining also meant she'd have to submit a guy to be put on a card. Her college friends had always called Logan a babe. She knew he wasn't in the market to date or get married. But if she checked the one-night-stand option? He might be game.

She put away her phone, and then made her way to the clinic's main waiting room. Lucky for her, someone vacated the green plastic chair next to where she was standing.

The clinic itself didn't seem very large. There was the overfilled waiting room where messy rows of mismatched chairs snaked around to fill as much space as possible. Down the hall were the examination rooms, and maybe a couple of offices from what she could glimpse.

In fact, the whole place had a patchwork feel to it. Graffiti covered the walls outside, except for the heavy glass door. It hadn't surprised her when she saw it was bullet-resistant. Inside, the walls were all painted in cheery pastels. One was plastered with pictures kids had drawn. It looked like a giant refrigerator door.

The people waiting to see a doctor were unsurprisingly diverse. Some were dressed in business attire, while others looked as if they were homeless. No one seemed bothered by the two young men covered in tattoos sitting among them.

From what she'd seen so far the staff was equally diverse. Only one physician was permanent, but they had quite a few volunteer specialists on rotation. There were also two full-time registered nurses, a physician's assistant and student nurses from the nearby hospital who came and went in order to accrue hours and experience. The same with medical students, although they were fewer in number. At least that was what it had said on the Moss Street Clinic website.

Lisa turned her attention to the African-American woman sitting beside her. Her eyes were sharp as they lit on every person in the room. Her tight lips, the small disapproving shakes of her head and her expressive eyebrows hid nothing.

Lisa figured if anyone knew the dirt on Dr. Cassidy, it would be her observant seat mate. “Excuse me,” Lisa said. “I'm new to the clinic. Do you know anything about Dr. Cassidy?”

The woman turned to look at Lisa. She'd expected to get the once-over from her, but it still felt intrusive. “Why you askin'?”

“I've come to see him. For an exam.”

“You mean a test? You one of them student doctors from Lincoln?”

“No. A patient.”

Leaning back, the woman took in as much of Lisa as she could. “You don't look like nothin's wrong. You from the tabloids?”

“Uh, no. Why? Are the tabloids interested in Dr. Cassidy?”

“How should I know? What's your name?”

“Lisa Pine,” she said, surprised when her mother's maiden name popped out. There was really no reason for her to use an alias. Though she kind of liked the idea. “And you are?”

The answer didn't come quickly. But finally she said, “Mrs. Alexis Washington.”

Lisa held out her hand. “Nice to meet you. It's scary coming to a new place when you don't know anyone.”

Mrs. Washington hesitated again, but eventually took Lisa's hand. “Where you live at?”

“I'm staying at the Days Inn by Yankee Stadium. Just for a while, though. I would have gone to Lincoln Hospital, but I heard someone talking about Dr. Cassidy. They said he's a neurologist. A really good one. And since I don't have any insurance...”

“You ask me, you come to the right place. I ain't been seen by Dr. Cassidy myself, but my neighbor Iris, she did. Said he was real nice. Listened to everything she told him. Didn't cut her off, or work on something else while she was talking, you know what I mean?”

“I do,” Lisa said. “It's so difficult now. No doctors want to listen. They just want you in and out, don't forget to pay when you leave.”

Mrs. Washington laughed, and it was as if Lisa had been given a seal of approval. “You got that right.” Then she leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “You're real pretty. You got something going on with one of them Yankees?”

It took Lisa a moment to make the connection to the Days Inn near the stadium. “No, Mrs. Washington. I don't. I'm single. No job. And a whole lot of headaches.”

“Okay, now Iris, she came to see him because she was getting dizzy all the time. Almost fell over at the Burger King on Grand Concourse. Had to sit down. They gave her some ice water. Then she came straight here. Dr. Cassidy sent her over to get a CT scan—you know that's serious business—and they took her blood. They said she got some kind of disease that make you dizzy, and there ain't much to do 'bout it. But she's okay most the time.”

“Sounds like he's a good doctor.”

“Oh, yeah. You know, he don't get paid. Someone told me but I can't remember who. Not the woman who helps run the place, though. Eve is her name and she works for his daddy or his brother or somethin'. She been comin' down here to volunteer for a few years now, but she keeps her mouth shut, especially when it comes to Dr. Cassidy. He came a couple months back. I can't remember when. Too many things I got to worry 'bout in my own life.”

Lisa nodded. “I hope you're not here for anything serious.”

“Me, I'm fine. Strong as an ox. I'm here with my grandson.” She glanced over to the corner where there was a small space for kids to play with books and toys. “Spider-Man today. All this year, pretty much. Here for a vaccination.”

“Grandson? Wow, you don't look old enough to have grandchildren.”

“I had 'em too young and they had 'em too young.” Mrs. Washington leaned closer again, clearly pleased at the compliment. “They all nice here, for the most part. They don't have all that fancy equipment like in Manhattan, but if something bad happens with your headaches? They'll help find a way to get you right.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel much better.” Lisa reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “Ah, it's my brother. Would you excuse me?” She stood and walked to a relatively quiet corner near the watercooler.

Logan hadn't actually called, but she wanted to get more than one opinion on Dr. Cassidy. She decided to focus on the staff next. There was a line at the reception desk, and the poor guy behind the counter had to answer the phones in between fielding questions. Lisa didn't mind waiting. From where she stood she could see down the hall toward the examination rooms. Occasionally, someone in scrubs or in a lab coat would appear and then enter another room. She'd hoped for a peek at Dr. Cassidy but hadn't had any luck so far. She would've known him right away...

“Can I help you?”

Lisa turned back to the reception desk. “I'm—”

Loud shouting pulled her attention back to the waiting room where two men were almost down each other's throats screaming so furiously she couldn't make out a word they said.

The receptionist rushed around the desk. “Volunteering?” he asked, and she nodded without thinking. “Third door down the hall.” Then he was gone, along with two other staff members, to stop the escalating fight.

Lisa started to follow them and had to stop herself. The instinct to help wasn't something she could easily ignore. But she had no business getting involved. When one of the men shoved the other, one of the nurses whistled so loudly, it could have been heard in Brooklyn. The electric danger in the air mellowed.

She sighed as she did an about-face. Why couldn't she get it through her thick skull that she wasn't a cop anymore? Her job now was to be invisible. Minor altercations probably happened all the time in a place like this. They were handling the situation just fine.

The receptionist had mistaken her for a volunteer, which was perfect. Something she should've thought of herself.

She hurried down the long green hallway, saw two doors and entered the one that was open. It looked more like an exam room than an office, but there were three tall filing cabinets in the back, so they probably talked to potential volunteers in whatever room was free. On the wall, there were posters about common STDs, patients' rights and a battered women's shelter.