A SEAL's Fantasy (12 page)

She was glad. She remembered the cold fury in his gaze when they’d left the apartment. She’d rather not see it aimed her way.

Still, furious or not, he’d saved her.

And he’d saved her stuff.

She wanted to ask if that guy was dead. She wanted to apologize for running. For putting herself in danger and him in the position of having to play hero.

“Thank you,” she whispered instead.

He gave a jerk of his shoulder, handed her a pair of sunglasses, then nodded to the Harley.

“Climb on.”

It was probably a bad time to joke that the last time he’d said that to her, they’d both been naked.

She had a feeling this round wasn’t going to feel nearly as good, nor have nearly as fun an ending.

* * *

D
OMINIC RODE AUTOMATICALLY,
his eyes on the road and his mind focused on their destination. A part of his brain acknowledged the woman whose arms were wrapped around his waist, whose thighs were pressed against the backs of his. But he told himself he was only aware enough to know she was still on the bike.

She’d walked out on him.

So it wasn’t hard to believe she’d leap off the back of a moving Harley. At least, his ego didn’t think so.

He gripped the handlebars tight to force himself not to speed up. To race the bike as fast as he could away from one simple, horrifying truth.

Lara had had sex with him.

Incredible, body-shaking, multiorgasmic sex.

Twice.

And she’d walked out.

No, given that she was still wearing the sleep shirt she’d stripped off her body and left behind not so much as an eyelash, she hadn’t walked out.

She’d run out.

On him.

He simply couldn’t comprehend it.

Destination,
he told himself, flexing his fingers on the grips again.

Just focus on where we’re going. Deal with the rest later.

Donner Lake caught his eye, the brilliant blue sparkling as the sun hit high overhead. An hour down, three to go.

Then he could shake Lara off his back, get a little distance, check in with the team. And beat the hell out of some useless, inanimate object. Just for fun.

She’d freaking run out on him.

Him.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that kind of thing happened. Just not to him.

He was there to protect her. She had seen firsthand the danger she was in. Yet she’d run—not walked—away. She’d stupidly risked her life and endangered the mission.

Fine.

From this second forward, she wasn’t female, she wasn’t sexy, she wasn’t his every fantasy come true.

She was a mission.

Duty.

Nothing else.

Dammit.

* * *

L
ARA WONDERED HOW
long a person could clench their teeth before their jaw exploded. She didn’t need to see Castillo’s face to know he was still clenching. Even his shoulder blades were tight. She could almost hear his molars grinding through their helmets.

Okay, so she shouldn’t have blown off his warnings. She should have waited, let him play bodyguard. She shouldn’t have run from the hotel like a hooker with his wallet buried in her bra. She shouldn’t have given in to lust and had sex with him. Not the first or second time.

Hell, she shouldn’t have gotten out of bed that morning.

It was all her fault.

Her fault he was hurt.

Her fault he’d had to, maybe, kill that guy.

Her fault for all the trouble he was going to be in.

Did SEALs get in trouble for things like that?

He hadn’t acted as if he was worried.

Nope.

He’d been an unemotional military machine.

Except for the flash of fury she’d seen in his eyes before he’d turned away.

No wonder.

She’d used him.

Sure, she could excuse her morning swan dive onto his body as a sleep-induced mistake. But she’d known what she was doing when he’d gone down on her. She’d been totally aware of what she had in her body when she came.

She’d used the poor man for her own selfish pleasures.

Over and over again.

He’d made it clear she was a duty. His mission.

And she’d sneaked up and seduced him.

No wonder he was so pissed.

Even knowing she was pushing her luck, Lara couldn’t help but give in to the emotional exhaustion beating down on her and leaned her head against Castillo’s leather-clad back. Her body automatically followed, pressing tight against his warmth.

She owed him. She didn’t know how or with what she’d pay him back. Since all the ideas that came to mind involved his body being naked, she figured she’d better keep thinking on it.

* * *

S
ERIOUSLY?

How the hell was he supposed to pretend she was nothing more than an assignment when she pressed those luxuriously delicious breasts against his chest?

He knew she wasn’t wearing a bra. That the only things between his bare back and her rosy nipples were a couple layers of fabric.

He should have stopped and bought her a leather jacket. Except that’d require talking, and he wasn’t ready to talk to the woman who’d run out, almost getting herself cut to ribbons and made into some goon’s plaything.

If she’d compromised the mission, Dominic would have failed. If Valdero’s creep had grabbed her, the team’s shot at getting Banks out would be a helluva lot harder.

By taking the guy down, Castillo had alerted the drug lord that the team had made him. He’d take steps to counter them.

Before leaving Reno, Castillo had sent Brody a coded text.

So now the team knew that Castillo had let a woman slip through his fingers. He’d say Banks would have a heyday with that, but the guy wasn’t friendly enough to give anyone a bad time. He was, though, as Dominic’s superior, in a position to make his life hell for not keeping Lara safe.

Now, instead of lying low and playing chill in Reno, he was taking his mission—that’s all she was now, dammit—to the base, where he could access resources to counter Valdero’s next move.

That’d mean explanations.

Of why he was there instead of on leave.

Of why he had Banks’s sister in tow.

And why he knew about a top-secret mission that was still in play.

Dominic growled into the wind, then realized he’d been squeezing the grips so hard they were flying twenty miles an hour over the posted limit.

He reluctantly throttled back.

Yeah. No question about it. Lara had put the mission in jeopardy.

And she’d walked out on him.

7

L
ARA WASN’T STUPID
enough to fall asleep on the back of a motorcycle. But she’d definitely been in a daze for the past hour. Until the bike slowed, pulling off the freeway.

Her head still lying against Castillo’s back, she opened her eyes, the dark glasses shielding the sun as it reflected off rows and rows of grapevines.

Wine country?

Good.

She could use a good drink.

So, other than Northern California, where were they?

And why?

Her stomach growled, hunger overpowering the fluttering nerves that’d taken up residence there.

What was he going to do with her?

She wasn’t afraid he’d hurt her. But he might dump her on someone else. Someone who wouldn’t be as good at keeping her safe. Lara wasn’t proud of the fact, but she knew if it came down to that, she just might beg.

No.

She was his assignment. He’d said so.

Which meant he’d keep her safe until he was unassigned.

Trying to believe, hoping like crazy it was true, she flexed her fingers on the leather around Castillo’s waist and tried to relax.

She almost found her daze again as the bike meandered along back roads between forests, fields and vineyards. Did he think someone was following them? Or was wherever he was going really in the middle of nowhere?

She still wasn’t sure when he turned onto a dirt path marked by two huge redwoods, throttling the Harley back to a dull roar.

He wove down a path so narrow a car wouldn’t fit. Sun winked between tall trees, the tires kicking up pine needles and the exhaust ruffling the bushes.

It’d be a great place to bury a body.

Lara seriously hoped she hadn’t pissed him off that much.

Then he came to a clearing.

Her nerves dissipated.

Her mouth dropped.

It was like being suffused with a hefty shot of mellow. Every muscle relaxed and Lara smiled.

There, at the far end of the clearing, was the cutest cabin. So darling she expected a little girl in a red cape to come skipping through the trees.

Castillo stopped, turned off the motor. He gave a jerk of his shoulders. She let go of his waist and leaned back far enough that plenty of air fit between their bodies. He didn’t have to shake her off twice, she sniffed.

He pulled his phone out, angling it so she couldn’t see what he was doing. As if she was so nosy she’d try and read over his shoulder? Lara rolled her eyes, wondering if he’d gotten any medals for his paranoia.

Then she wrinkled her nose, remembering that he’d been spot-on with his last
paranoid
warning. She looked toward the trees so she wouldn’t catch sight of what he was doing. Just in case.

Eventually—one, two, twenty minutes or so later—he tucked the phone into his pocket. He kicked the stand down, then swung his leg over the seat to dismount the bike. Big, sturdy thing that it was, it only shifted a little with Lara still perched on the back.

He pulled something else out of his pocket.

A cool military device? Some kind of homing signal that’d open a secret cave in the trees?

When he aimed it at the cabin, she saw a small red light above the door go out.

Security system?

Okay, it was still cool.

She glanced at Castillo to comment, then caught her breath.

He was unzipping his jacket, the black leather parting. Oh, yeah, she sighed, noting that his shirt was a lot tighter today. The soft cotton of his tee molded a chest that was as delicious as it was hard. Lara licked her lips, her eyes skimming over his flat belly. She wished the shirt was tight there, too, because he had abs worth worshipping.

She really hadn’t spent enough time appreciating them while he was naked. She should have kissed her way over that chest, spent a good bit of time with the abs on her way down. But she’d been in too much of a hurry to get to the good stuff.

Story of her life.

Lara forced herself to look away before she started drooling. She glanced at her watch, noting that it’d been four hours since he’d even looked at her. That jerk of his shoulders was the only indication since they’d left her apartment building that he knew she was there.

It was enough to make a girl forget she was sorry and make a play—a very naughty play—for his attention.

He’d saved her, she reminded herself.

Jumping his body and using him for wild sex was a poor thank-you.

Maybe.

“Where are we?” she finally asked.

“We’re not driving to Coronado on a bike,” was all he said.

Lara looked around for an alternate form of transportation.

But unless that darling cabin flew or he had a transporter in the trees somewhere, there was nothing.

He didn’t elaborate, just strode toward the cabin and climbed the steps.

Afraid it’d fall over without his presence, Lara climbed off the bike. She was glad he’d gone inside, since her dismount wasn’t nearly as graceful as his.

Lara stood next to the bike, looking around while she tried to decide what to do. He hadn’t invited her into the cabin, but he hadn’t warned her to stay out, either.

A loud rustling broke the peaceful silence, the bushes shaking off to the right.

Rude or not, Lara wasn’t staying out here. Her fingers fumbled with the buckle on the saddlebag, her heart racing as she tried to get it open. Finally, she threw the leather flap over, grabbed her laptop and, almost tripping over her own feet, ran toward the cabin.

She made it up the three wide plank steps without a problem, but her toe hit the seam on the porch, sending her flying through the open door.

She caught her balance just before her knees hit the floor.

Righting, her laptop cradled against her chest, she blew her hair out of her eyes and grimaced at Castillo.

“Sorry. I’m usually more graceful,” she muttered.

Blushing—something she hadn’t done since her teens—Lara avoided his gaze, glancing around instead.

Wow.

This wasn’t anything like what she imagined Red’s grandma’s cabin looked like.

One huge room with a couple of doors jutting off at the back, it was
Field & Stream
meets
Modern Life.
Slick, clean lines, leather furniture and a TV that took up an entire wall. She’d call it man land, but there were no pinups on the walls or dirty socks on the floor.

“Where are we?” she asked for the second time.

And, of course, for the second time Castillo ignored her.

She forced herself to look at him and realized she shouldn’t have been embarrassed. He probably hadn’t even seen her almost face-plant at his feet. Obviously, in his mind she still didn’t exist.

Seriously?

How long was he going to keep this up?

All because—what? She’d left before round two of the hot sweaty delight match? Or because she hadn’t cowered under the hotel bed, whimpering for him to keep her safe?

It was stupid. What was done was done, no harm, no foul—well, except to the questionable body back in her apartment.

But, still...

“You are such a girl,” she snapped.

Feeling as though the roller coaster of a day had finally derailed, Lara stomped into what was clearly the living area, threw herself on the couch and, laptop still cradled close, glared at Castillo.

“I’m a what?” At least he was looking at her again, even if his expression did hint toward worries about her sanity.

“A girl.” Lara carefully tucked her laptop onto the cushion next to her so she could throw her hands in the air. “Your feelings get hurt. Instead of talking about it, or even bitching about it, you go into deep chill. The cold shoulder. The silent treatment.”