A SEAL's Pleasure (6 page)

If forced, she might fess up to the hot and horny. But she'd be damned if she'd admit the hooked part. Even to herself.

“Call it my super skill. I suss these things out.” Maeve leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her ratty sweater while giving Tessa an impatient look. “You're falling for the guy. So give in to the cliché, do him and get it out of your system. Otherwise get over this crap about protecting Livi by not talking about it.”

“I'm sure my system will be fine,” Tessa said dismissively. “And why are you pushing me to dump this on Livi?”

“Because you keep trying to talk to me, which is driving me nuts,” Maeve said. “In case you haven't noticed in all our years as partners, girly chitchat isn't my thing.”

An understatement on par with calling Gabriel Thorne's effect on her body a little interesting.

Tessa had met Maeve in her last year of boarding school, both of them miserably out of place, each for her own reason. They'd bonded over sarcasm and hot chocolate and somehow stayed friends through the years.

So when Maeve had moved back to San Diego after college, one thing had led to another, and pretty soon the two of them and another friend from school—Jared—had launched
Flirtatious
.

“Speaking of, just where is Jared?” Tessa asked, glancing at her watch. They'd had an 8:00 a.m. meeting scheduled and she'd spent most of that hour bitching to Maeve with no sight of Jared.

“Late.”

“Late seems to be the new black with him.”

“He's up to something,” Maeve muttered, her attention sucked back into her computer screen.

“I got that, too,” Tessa said with a heavy sigh, not thrilled to have her suspicions confirmed. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since you nabbed the Patrón account. And the Gucci ad. It got worse after the Marriott chain did that string of features.”

“He's flaking off because I brought in new accounts?”

Granted, accounts weren't really a part of her job description. She wrote the articles, did interviews, oversaw the freelance columnists. But last year she'd met a lot of influential people during her tour with Livi. Those people turned into contacts, those contacts into contracts.

Which meant more money for the magazine, bigger distribution and better profits. So why would that be a problem?

Maeve's left hand flew over her keyboard while her right danced over the track pad, but Tessa knew her scowl wasn't the result of concentration, or because of the complexity of her work.

“Not flaking, conniving. He's putting in twice as much time, but after hours.”

“How do you know that?”

“He's logging on to the server. Pulling financial records for the past two years, running client lists, compiling subscription numbers.”

It didn't take Tessa long to add all that to her own suspicions. Her stomach clenched, a million ugly scenarios flashing through her mind.

“He's trying to sell us out?”

“Maybe.” Maeve tore her gaze from the computer to give Tessa a long look. “Or throw us under.”

Tessa sank into a file-covered chair, ignoring the slide of papers beneath her butt as she tried to think through the problem.

“What do we do? Do we accuse now or watch and wait?” she asked quietly, trying not to put any inflection on either choice. But her mind was screaming watch and wait, watch and wait.

Maeve must have been on the same wavelength, because she just shrugged.

“Nothing to accuse him of yet,” she said. “If we jump in now with our women's intuition and a bunch of half-assed suspicions, he'll just bury what he's doing.”

“He won't stop, though.”

“Nope, just make it harder for us to figure it out.”

Tessa nodded. She should be glad, since that put her and Maeve on the same page. But since the page itself sucked, it was hard to work up too much enthusiasm.

“What do we do?” she murmured, feeling lost.

“Like you said, watch and wait. Forearmed and all that,” Maeve said with a shrug. “Guess we each need to figure out what we're going to do when things change.”

That they would change went without saying.

* * *

M
AEVE
'
S
WORDS
WERE
still playing through Tessa's mind when she rode the elevator up to Livi's apartment that evening. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy change. She just preferred to be the one initiating it. Which meant she always made sure to initiate it in small, easily assimilated bits.

Not in a giant swoop of change pouring through her life like a huge wave, wiping out every damned thing all at once. Between the problems at
Flirtatious
, the changes with Livi and feeling as if she were losing her sexual mojo thanks to Romeo, Tessa was on complete overload. One more change, even something as simple as hearing that they were repaving the parking lot at her apartment, and she was pretty sure she'd run screaming into the night with her head on fire.

And, oh, God, when had she become such a drama queen?

Tessa let her thankfully fire-free head rest on the elevator wall as she took a few deep breaths and tried to settle her crazy thoughts into some semblance of order. The last thing Livi needed was one of her dinner guests showing up stressed out.

Especially not if the other dinner guest was part of the cause of that stress. Tessa might be frazzled and prone to drama, but she reminded herself that she was also an expert on men. And because she was, she would make sure that Romeo didn't get the better of her two visits in a row.

With that in mind she straightened, and this time her deep breaths were cleansing ones.

In with the confidence, out with the worries.

In with the sexy energy, out with the stress.

In with the attractive mojo, out with the self-doubts.

And one last breath to perk up her breasts and bring a little color to her cheeks and that was it. Tessa was ready when the elevator dinged.

Stepping into the hallway, her hips were back to swinging and her easy smile was in place. She strode toward Livi's door, certain that she wasn't carrying any of her crap with her.

At least, not on the surface, where anyone—not even her best friend—would notice it.

“Mitch, hello,” she greeted with a friendly smile when he opened the door. “I brought wine and a present.”

“I'd say you shouldn't have, but Livi would hurt me. You know how she loves presents,” he said, his blue eyes laughing before he ushered her into the apartment.

Tessa hadn't been there in a couple of weeks, not since the couple had announced their engagement, but she knew that Mitch was pretty much living here when he wasn't on base. She followed him inside, stopping where the entry opened into the living area.

She didn't realize how much she'd been dreading seeing it until the knot in her stomach unraveled. Nothing had changed. Not really. The large, airy apartment was still filled with soothing shades of blue and purple. The sunken living area was a sea of white furniture and carpeting, accented with blown glass, rich throws and clever knickknacks.

A vivid contrast to Tessa's own apartment. Her place screamed of sensual luxury, with its jewel tones and cool surfaces, where Livi's space was soothing and peaceful. Things Tessa rarely felt, almost never sought. Probably because she knew that kind of serenity was always here for her if she needed it.

Would that change now?

Would she still be welcome to come and go as she pleased, to make this haven her own second home? Where would she fit once Livi and Mitch settled into their new life, wrapped around their new priorities? They'd be happy, she hoped. But how long would she be invited to see that happiness?

“I heard the word
present
,” Livi said, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a towel before wrapping her arms around Tessa in a welcoming hug.

Grateful for the distraction from what was becoming an all-too-familiar sense of self-pity, Tessa returned the hug with a tight squeeze.

“Gimme,” Livi teased with a bright smile when she'd stepped back.

“Who said it was for you?” Tessa asked, wide-eyed. She handed a grinning Mitch the bottle of wine, then dangled the gift bag by its satin handles so that the purple foil caught the light. Then, laughing, she handed it to Livi.

Without ceremony, teal tissue flew one way, then the bag the other before her friend gave a broken exclamation.

“Are you okay?” Mitch asked, hurrying from the kitchen when his fiancée burst into tears. He pulled Livi into his arms, shooting Tessa a dark look. “What'd you give her?”

“Happy tears,” Livi explained, patting his shoulder.

“You need a warning sign,” he muttered, shaking his head. But Tessa saw the look on his face and knew that he'd have come running just as quickly for happy tears as he would for sad. Clearly, the man would break the four-minute mile for love.

“Look,” Livi said, holding up the plush octopus. The watercoloresque fabric poured purples into blues into sea foam and back, with the happy-faced sea denizen wearing its own little sailor hat. “Isn't it darling?”

Mitch's smile turned goofy as he took the toy and examined it. Then, without warning, he pulled Tessa into a hug of his own, giving her a quick, friendly squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said before handing Livi back the toy with a kiss.

“I know you said you hadn't decided on a theme or colors for the nursery, but I couldn't resist,” she said, running her fingertip over one soft leg.

“He's perfect. It's perfect,” Livi murmured, leaning her head on Mitch's shoulder as they both gazed at the octopus as if it offered insights into the joys of their future.

Ignoring the empty feeling in her stomach, Tessa gave another quick look around the apartment, even though she knew Romeo wasn't lurking there somewhere.

“So,” Tessa said brightly, her smile only a little stiff. “How about some wine? Then you can tell me all about the latest workout filming while I help you with dinner.”

She'd almost said, “When your other dinner guest would arrive,” but managed to change her words at the last moment. She didn't want anyone thinking she wanted to see him. She'd just keep it to herself that her stomach was doing little loop-de-loops.

“Wine coming up,” Mitch promised with one last kiss to the top of Livi's head before he headed for the kitchen.

Tessa followed Livi around the small wall that separated the entry and kitchen from the dining area and living room, listening to her friend rhapsodize about her latest workout program as they went. Her eyes landed on the teak table and she frowned. Around the artistic arrangement of yellow and indigo flowers were only three settings.

Romeo wouldn't be joining them.

She almost tripped over her own toes at the realization.

Relief, she promised herself. That flood of emotion pouring through her was pure relief. Now she could relax as she tried to find her place in this new mix that was her best friend's life.

She smiled as she settled onto her usual place on the couch and accepted Mitch's proffered glass of wine with a murmur of thanks.

She was glad Romeo wasn't here. It was better this way. Who needed a whole bunch of sexual tension, hot looks and sizzling desires messing up dinner?

Certainly not her, she assured herself.

Then, sipping her wine, she wondered when she'd sunk so low that she'd started lying to herself. Probably when she'd peeled her body away from the delicious temptation of Romeo's.

6

G
ABRIEL
WAS
A
man who'd been raised to understand that life moved in stages. The seasons, the years. Trainings, missions, procedures—they all followed a cycle. He understood the value of those cycles, the need to layer the necessary steps in the right order to achieve a desired outcome.

Over the years, people had expressed surprise that a man who blew things up for a living could be so chill in his belief that things happened when they were meant to and not a moment before. But he'd learned that trying to circumvent the right timing was usually a recipe for disaster. But Gabriel's patience was an innate part of his thought process, as natural as breathing and as deep as his faith that everything happened for a reason.

So it was a rare and unwelcome thing to find that patience dangling by one loose thread, ready to snap at any second.

It was even rarer that he was willing to risk that thread by using it to strangle someone. But today, he was more than ready to lose the rare power of his temper, and let it explode all to hell on one particular person.

Jeglinski.

But...

Gabriel shifted the pretty pink box from one hand to the other, leaning his shoulder against the wall of the elevator as he took a deep, calming breath.

He wouldn't.

It took the rest of the elevator ride for him to believe that. But when the metal box dinged, he set his irritation aside and buried his anger, and his usual mellow facade was solidly in place.

By the time he reached Livi's door, his smile was comfortable, his charm in place and his mood upbeat. So when the pretty blonde welcomed him in, he was able to hold up the dessert box and wiggle his brows suggestively.

“What, I wonder, would a pregnant lady do for a delicious dessert?” he mused.

“Gabriel,” Livi exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.

With his usual lightning reflexes, Gabriel lifted the box overhead, where it wasn't in danger of being jostled or squashed, even as his other arm came around to return her hug.

“Wow, you must have one major sweet tooth,” he teased.

“More like I was worried when you canceled dinner,” Livi told him, her voice lowering as she shifted back to inspect his face. “Mitch said it was no big deal, but he had that voice when he said it. You know, the totally casual, completely innocuous voice? So I knew it was.”

Gabriel wondered what it was like to have someone read you so easily. Irish was one of the best, had been courted by the powers that be to serve on DEVGRU. He wasn't easy to read. Love must be pretty special if it gave those kind of insights.

“And you didn't nag him into telling?” Gabriel teased. “You are a queen among women, Ms. Kane.”

“Oh, no,” Livi said, her voice still low as she sent a quick look over her shoulder. “I didn't let on that I knew. It'd just upset him, then he'd worry about me. Then I'd worry about him worrying about me, in addition to me already worrying about you.”

His mind spinning as he tried to follow that, Gabriel decided he was much better off without having anyone read him. That sounded like way too much worry for his taste.

“Come in,” she invited, taking the box and curling her arms around it protectively. “You're just in time for coffee.”

“Coffee sounds great.”

He entered the apartment to another great sound.

Tessa's laughter.

Gabriel's grin turned wicked.

Time for another round of Operation Romance.

“Dessert delivery?” he heard Tessa say in a delighted tone. “You had dessert specially delivered?”

“There's this great place in Virginia that makes these custom éclairs. Livi had one when we were back visiting my mom a few weeks ago and she's been craving them ever since. So I had some flown in.”

“What are you going to do in a few months if she's craving some exotic condiment from Turkey?” Tessa asked with a laugh.

“I know people. I'm sure I can fly those in, too.”

Gabriel stepped into the room just in time to see the goofy look on Irish's face over the idea that his gal was getting cravings.

Before he could laugh, his gaze was caught by the gorgeous angel seated on the couch. Lust hit like a fist to the gut at the vision she made, her hair pulled back to leave her lovely face unframed. Her sheer black blouse emphasized rather than hid her black bra and flat abs, while her black skirt looked like something a cheerleader would wear. He rocked back on the heels of his motorcycle boots, grinning. A
naughty
cheerleader.

“Hello, angel,” he greeted.

Her eyes flashed. But for the first time it wasn't irritation he saw in those big blue depths. If he wasn't mistaken—and he never was about these things—it was interest.

The triumph was brief. He knew he hadn't won the war. But he was still taking this as a tactical victory. And like any good victory, he planned to parlay it into a bigger win with carefully orchestrated, strategic steps.

Ready to get started, he stepped farther into the room and turned his attention to Irish.

“Commander,” he greeted with a modified salute.

“Romeo,” Mitch responded, rising to shake his hand. “Thanks for making the trip. How was the flight?”

Knowing his commander was asking about more than the condition of the travel from the East Coast to West, he glanced at Mitch, shrugging to indicate that the mission was proceeding according to plan. He'd spent the past thirty hours in Little Creek being briefed in the use of the new bomb gear.

Satisfied with his report, such as it was, Mitch nodded, then tilted his head to indicate Gabriel be at ease.

“Can I get you a beer?” Irish offered.

“Sure.” Free now to indulge in the next stage of his plan, Gabriel stepped into the sunken living area and gave Tessa a smile. The kind he'd offer a friend's mother or an elderly shop clerk. Nonthreatening, nonsexual and friendly.

Instead of taking a seat next to Tessa on the couch, or even in the chair opposite, where he could stare directly at her, he took the chair to her right.

Damn, she had a great profile.

He watched with appreciation as she gave a deep sigh, the move pressing her breasts tighter against the sheer fabric of her blouse. Then, as if she couldn't stand it any longer, she turned her head and gave him a cool look under arched brows.

“Here ya go, Romeo,” Irish said.

Gabriel reached out to take the bottle, but he didn't take his eyes off the black-haired beauty staring at him.

He couldn't read her gaze. He knew he hadn't imagined the interest he'd seen there earlier, and he didn't doubt for a second that she could wield indifference with deadly accuracy.

Which meant she was hiding the interest.

His smile widened.

Operation Romance was working just fine. He'd gotten her attention the other night with his opening salvo of a kiss. He'd issued his terms. Now the fun could start. Keeping her off balance enough that she didn't lose interest, but not letting things get so out of hand that he couldn't resist giving in. He'd wait her out, see how long it took before she couldn't resist talking to him.

“Oh, Gabriel, these look amazing.”

It wasn't Livi's gushing exclamation that freed his attention. It was that her words seemed to flip a switch for Tessa. With just a flick of her lashes, the brunette angel dismissed him to turn her gaze toward her friend. His lips twitched as the message came through loud and clear.

Shoo
, those lashes said.
Just shoo.

Damn, she was cute the way she thought she had the upper hand.

“Tessa, aren't they decadent looking?” Livi said as she set a tray on the glass coffee table. “My mouth is already watering.”

“They look great,” Tessa acknowledged, accepting the plate Livi offered and sending Mitch a teasing smile. “I didn't know you were craving éclairs, though. I thought you were on a kale kick.”

“Balance. It's all about balance,” Livi said with a wave of her hand. “I had this sudden craving for cream-filled pastries last night, but there were no good bakeries open at midnight. I finally settled for hot cocoa and whipped cream, but it wasn't the same.”

“You should have told me you were in the mood for something besides seaweed,” Tessa said. “I'd have stopped at the little bakery by my place that you love.”

“That's okay,” Livi said as she handed Mitch his plate, along with a kiss. “Mitch said he'd get them for me.”

Hurt flashed in Tessa's eyes but was hidden away with another whisk of those lashes. He frowned. More interested in knowing the cause than in his plan to wait for her to speak first, Gabriel planted his elbows on his knees, his fingers loosely linked between them as he leaned forward.

“So did you offer to bring Livi kale, too?” he asked.

Tessa lifted her gaze from her plate to give him a sardonic look.

“Friendship has its limits,” she declared. “Seaweed is one of them.”

“Now, that's not true,” Livi said, finally tearing her attention off her fiancé to give her friend a wide-eyed look. “You found me kale in Albuquerque.”

“You were chewing on your fingernails,” Tessa pointed out, circling her fork in the air. “I had to get you something to calm your nerves.”

Livi wrinkled her nose before giving Gabriel a rueful smile.

“We were doing a tour to promote my Strip Fit workout program and I used to have a little trouble facing crowds. Tessa was always great at keeping me focused before events, but she had a major deadline when we hit Albuquerque so I had to go it alone.”

Tessa's lips twitched.

“I got there a half hour before the second workout,” Tessa explained, curling her feet under her as she got more comfy. This was about as relaxed as Gabriel had ever seen the petite powerhouse. “Apparently she'd white-knuckled it through the first session. Now she's got two hundred people waiting in a stadium while she's pacing this makeshift stage, muttering the lyrics to ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me' and chewing her nails off. I had to do something before she ran out of fingers and went for the toes.”

Gabriel could see the history of affection in the look the women shared before Livi shook her head at the memory.

“Tessa knew the best thing to calm me down was food, but I was about to go on stage wearing the equivalent of a sequined bikini. Comfort food was out of the question—”

“Normal-people comfort food was out,” Tessa interrupted, rolling her eyes toward the men and pulling a face. “But I knew Ms. Fit here could be soothed with some twigs or leaves or, you know, seaweed.”

“So she grabbed a cab, found the nearest health food store and filled a grocery bag with everything health food,” Livi laughed. “I still don't know how you managed to do all of that and get back before the session began.”

“Pl-ee-ase.” Tessa drew the word out, her expression sliding from light and amused to seductively sultry with just a flick of her lashes. “The cabbie was a man.”

Even as he joined the others' laughter, Gabriel mentally filed the insight that comment offered, patting himself on the back for his plan to play it cool. She was so used to guys falling all over her, but he wondered if any of them actually saw her for more than a sexy body and gorgeous face.

His laugh fading into a frown, Gabriel realized that he wasn't any better.

He was busy pondering that when Livi offered him the cream-filled, chocolate-covered delicacy.

“No, thanks.” He shook his head. “You can have my share.”

“You don't eat sweets?”

“I never deprive a beautiful woman of an extra helping of anything that makes her smile,” he said.

As Livi's expression melted in delight, he saw Tessa roll her eyes. But she looked more amused than disdainful, so he figured he was making progress. He just wasn't as sure now what he wanted to progress toward. He didn't want to be just another horndog with a hard-on scheming his way into her bed.

“Ooh,” Livi said with a soft moan as she ate her first bite. She arched her brows at Tessa and gestured with another forkful. “Mitch was right. This is delicious. Like, totally worth an extra twenty minutes of cardio.”

“You eat that second one and you might need to up that to sixty,” Tessa said with a laugh.

“Do you ladies really do that?” Mitch asked. “Seriously measure each bite in terms of how much exercise you'll have to do after eating it?”

“While I'm filming I do.” Livi gave Gabriel's rejected plate a woeful look, then licked her fork. “I'm not as obsessive about it now as I was before, but I'm still careful. But that's me. Tessa here burns through calories as if they're air. I think she just works out to keep me company.”

“Metabolism,” Tessa intoned in a low, sexy voice, toasting with her fork.

“You and your metabolism. I'd hate you for it if you didn't have to work so hard for muscle tone,” Livi said teasingly.

“We all have our challenges,” Tessa acknowledged seriously before grinning. The smile lit up her face with a sense of fun that Gabriel hadn't realized she had. He leaned back in his chair, deliberately making himself unobtrusive—another carefully honed talent that came both through blood and years of training.

He was fascinated by Tessa in this mood and didn't want to do anything to bring her out of it. He wondered if light and easy was something she reserved for Livi, or if it was the dessert bringing it out in her.

“I've seen women cry when they see how this one eats,” Livi told them, gesturing with her fork to Tessa, whose dessert plate was already sparkling clean. “The only thing they hate worse is that she never gets drunk.”

“Never?” Mitch asked, his tone showing the same surprise Gabriel felt.

He'd seen her drink, so knew she wasn't a teetotaler.

“Is that another credit to your metabolism?” Mitch asked.