Claiming Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 1) (13 page)

The tension ratcheted up as he stared her down, unmoving, clearly furious. How was she supposed to tear down his walls when he’d thrown up a few more in the scant hours since she’d last seen him?

And then she realized what the problem was.

“Take a walk with me. Please,” she threw in as he started to shake his head. “Five minutes, and then I’ll leave if I’m not saying anything worth listening to.”

He huffed out a little noise of disgust, which she chose to interpret as an affirmative answer, and then he followed her to the end of the short block.

The last dying rays of sunlight had speared across the sky in violent shades of purple and deep red. The ocean had turned darker, hiding what lay below the surface. But she’d been under it, knew what lived in the water, even though she couldn’t see it. The man at her side had instilled that sense of faith. And just like the ocean, she knew what was below Dex’s surface.

Without hesitation, she kept walking as they hit the beach. Straight into the water.

“I’m not going swimming, Emma.” The steely set of Dex’s jaw was mirrored in his tone.

She kept going, wading out until the water hit her midcalf. Waves rolled in every few seconds, splashing higher on her legs and throwing salty drops up on her dress.

Turning, she called back to him, “Neither am I. I can’t talk to you on the beach. Come on.”

Rolling his eyes, he kicked off his flip-flops and followed her into the water.

He didn’t have to do it. He could have turned on his heel and left. But he hadn’t. That had to mean something.

“What do you want?” he mouthed succinctly as he halted a good ten feet from her. Way too far for what she had in mind.

Didn’t matter. He was in the water. Exactly where she wanted him. “Still have a bad attitude I see. Let’s give it a minute.”

“My attitude is a direct result of you.” Sighing, he crossed his arms. “Is this the part where you say it’s okay, you’re fine with all the bodies? Insist that we should talk about it and express our feelings and you just want me to be happy. Here’s a rainbow and a puppy to make it all better.”

That sounded suspiciously like something that some clueless woman had said to him before. Probably minus the rainbow and puppy part though.

“No, this is the part where I say I’m sorry I ran away. You have a lot of bad stuff inside, and I didn’t handle it well.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You weren’t supposed to. That was the point. It’s not something to handle; it’s something to fear and avoid.”

“But you can’t. So why should I?”

The dying throes of sunlight cast him in shadow but not so much so that she missed the subtle shift. His tension eased a fraction as he stared at a spot just over her shoulder. “Because it’s not your burden to bear. Dexter is who I am, and I can’t erase it. Nor do I want to.”

But it haunted him. The ghosts she saw in his gaze—that was what she wanted to help exorcise. He’d been bearing his burdens by himself for a long time, apparently, and it wasn’t getting any better.

“I’m curious. What’s your real name if it isn’t Dexter?”

His face closed in and he hesitated so long she thought he wasn’t going to tell her. “James… Riley. No one calls me that except my mother and only when she’s mad.”

A brief burst of triumph gushed through her. She was gaining ground.

James
. She rolled it around in her head. He looked nothing like a James, but neither did he embody Dexter either. Dex suited him, as he’d likely realized, and thus adopted. But using the name Dex meant he embraced that piece of himself, at least partially.

And maybe that was the key to unlocking the puzzle that was James Dexter Riley—he didn’t want to be Dexter but couldn’t figure out how to be anything else.

“James.” She drew out the syllables and then held up a finger as he started to speak. “You had your turn earlier. Now it’s my turn, and I have a few things to say. We’ve got some stuff to work through, you and I, and I want to do it without the specter of Dexter hanging over us. So, for right now, you’re James. Deal with it.”

His mouth closed, but it was the only visible sign he gave that he’d heard her.

She’d take it.

Never had she thought this would be easy. But she hoped it would be worth it, at least for his sake. He deserved that exorcism if for no other reason than because she owed him for everything he’d done for her.

“I meant what I said,” she continued. “I came to apologize for letting you scare me away. I shouldn’t have walked. But I’m here now, and I’m ready to be the woman I promised you I was.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he burst out. “You haven’t promised me anything.”

“I did. I said I was strong enough to take it and then didn’t follow through.” She risked inching toward him, hoping he wouldn’t back away. He didn’t. “But I’m here now, and I want to hear the rest of it.”

“There’s no rest of it.”

“Yes, there is,” she corrected. “What happened when you came home from your last tour, James? What drove you all the way to the Caribbean?”

The mutinous cross of his arms tightened, and that’s when she realized he was holding himself in, as if he might fall apart any minute without something to bind him together. Her heart softened.

“If I’d wanted you to know those things, I’d have told you,” he bit out. “Besides, what does it matter? You’ve ignored everything else I’ve said. Especially the part where I made it clear you shouldn’t trust me. Yet here you are, barging into places I—”

“That’s not what you said.” Before he could go off again, she closed the gap between them and risked settling her palm on his forearm because she had to touch him. Had to somehow communicate that she could tell he was hurting but wasn’t alone. “You said I can trust you in the water. Only in the water.”

She kicked at the surf, sending a spray sideways for emphasis.

His eyelids slammed shut and his mouth softened, just a touch, but it was enough.

“James,” she whispered and reached out, sliding both palms to his steely biceps. “I’ve heard every word you’ve said. Now I want to hear the words you didn’t say. Tell me why you’ve tried so hard to convince me you’d be bad for me.”

His eyes blinked open, and it was too dark to read them. The moon had yet to rise, and the sun had long abandoned the beach.

“Why are you trying so hard to convince yourself I’m not?”

“Because.” Cursing the quaver in her voice, she sucked in a breath. “We’re stuck in a cycle of crazy that needs a different ending. I came to the Bahamas so I could pick up the pieces of my life. You’re a part of that, have been since the moment we met, whether you see it or not. You can’t take it back. You can only accept what’s happening here.”

“What’s happening here, Emma?” he murmured and his arms dropped from their clinch across his midsection. But he didn’t reach for her in kind. “A seduction? Is that what you’re trying to get to? You have your sights set on a vacation fling, and nothing else will do.”

“Really? That’s how you’re interpreting all of this?” She scowled at him and inwardly cursed herself for telling him she’d wanted a fling when that was so clearly not the right tactic. So clearly not what either of them craved. “If I was only after sex, I’m pretty sure I could have found someone a thousand times less difficult to scratch my itch with. I’m here because you need me. We need each other. To heal, to connect.”

He laughed. “Oh, so
now
we’re at the part where you’re going to shower rainbows and puppies on me.”

“No,” she countered fiercely. “We’re at the part where you stop being such an ass and throw down. You tried to scare me off due to some ridiculous idea that since you’re not a choir boy, I’ll be tainted by your black soul. Get over yourself. You sent me away because
you’re
scared.”

“Oh, this should be good. What am I scared of?” The amusement in his voice pissed her off even more.

“You’re scared that I
can
take it. That you’ve finally met your match. Because if I can hear the list of your sins and stick around, what will I do with that? What demands might I make of you that you can’t meet?”

He went still under her palms, and she could feel his energy whipping through him, coiling like a snake about to strike. But she wasn’t going to run, not this time. Because she wasn’t afraid of him, despite his best efforts to the contrary. Maybe the cloaks he hid behind were good enough to fool other people—someone who wasn’t looking closely enough. But Emma saw Dex in ways he clearly didn’t anticipate.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said softly. “And the burns are not going to be pretty.”

“Life is not pretty, James. I have scars from the last time I tried to have something meaningful with a man. If I’m going to be marked anyway, I’d rather I know going in what I’m signing up for. Besides, I think you’re worth it.”

She stopped just short of pointing out that he hadn’t argued with her assessment of his fears. Of course, cagey was his default, and she wanted that gone. This man open to her. Oh, yes, that was the goal, and she was going to get there.

“Emma.” Her name came out garbled as if he’d strangled over it. “This is a bad idea.”

A charge zipped through the atmosphere, prickling her skin. There was no way to misinterpret what he meant by
this
. “Why? What do you think is going to happen if I say I want you? If I say I want your mouth on mine, because I can’t stop thinking about how you kiss with your whole body?”

“What’s going to happen is—” He cut himself off with a curse and his torso heaved with it. “I won’t be gentle. I won’t make it nice and sweet for you. It will be brutal because that’s who I am.”

And therein lay the problem. That’s how he saw himself. It was up to her to help him redefine James Riley. Dexter had no place here.

Her lips curved up involuntarily. “It will be beautiful because you’re James when you’re with me. Whatever that entails. I want to learn every inch of you, inside and out.”

“You shouldn’t want that,” he murmured and cursed again. “
I
shouldn’t want that.”

But he did. His confession thrilled through her, dragging heat and sharp desire as it winnowed straight to her core. “Why not? Why shouldn’t you deserve something good?”

“Because it might come at your expense.”

And that was the final straw. “Stop protecting me! Let me worry about me. Besides, if you’re so concerned about hurting me, you already know how to solve that problem.”

Before he could blink, she grabbed the hem of her dress and whipped it off over her head, chucking it behind her into the ocean. “You say I can only trust you in the water? Put your money where your mouth is, James Riley.”

T
he faintest tinges of moonlight kissed Emma’s skin, turning it silvery as Dex drank in her nearly naked form.

“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely, though it was obvious that she’d intended to strip down to her lacy pink bra and matching panties. Obvious that she meant to drive him insane with that one small act mere seconds after throwing his words back in his face.

He tried to warn her away. Tried to scare her away. Tried to horrify her enough to drive her away. And she’d come back again and again, offering herself up on the altar of his conscience, only this time she’d come armed with a silver bullet—a challenge. If he’d claimed she could trust him in the water, was he man of his word or not?

Her firm breasts peeked over the top of the shelf bra, and his knees weakened. It was a totally different look than the white bikini, though every bit as sexy. Actually, it didn’t matter what she wore; it was the woman in the outfit that was the kicker.

Seduction. Who was he kidding? This wasn’t a seduction as if she was in the process of it. It was done. He’d been thoroughly seduced by Emma from moment one.

He’d just hoped to be strong enough to resist her. That wasn’t going so well.

“I’m daring you to prove I can trust you in the water.” Her brows lifted a touch. “Maybe I’m being too subtle.”

Her hands worked at her back, and the shelf bra went the way of the dress. Gone. Her breasts peaked up under his gaze, hardening and turning his insides molten, and he couldn’t look away. Shouldn’t be required to when she obviously wanted him to see her. Otherwise she’d have never left the resort.

“We’re not on a private beach,” he rasped before she stripped off that little scrap of pink between her legs. Once she did that, all bets were off. “I don’t—”

Launching toward him, she threw herself into his arms and he caught her instinctively. “Shut up and kiss me, James.”

The way she breathed his name swirled through him, beating against the last of his resistance. His erection pulsed painfully as her hard nipples scraped at him through his shirt.

Just this once, he promised himself. Only in the water.

Brilliant. Here he could pretend nothing outside of the two of them existed, as if there would be no consequences later, because it didn’t count. One time. He could lose himself in her sweet body and then forget about her and her white bikini and all the things she made him question about himself.

Hell, it wasn’t like he’d ever had a choice. She’d just keep barging through his barriers. Next time, she might bring a battering ram, and he was so tired of being noble.