A SEAL for Christmas (All I want for Christmas is... 2)

His SEAL training had taught him to always be prepared for any contingency and in Manhattan around the holidays, fancy parties were always a possibility. Not that he enjoyed dressing up in a monkey suit and hanging with a bunch of windbag politicians and wealthy elite, but if it would get him closer to finding Aileen, he’d do it.

As he tugged on his crisp white trousers, he glanced at the newspaper on the dresser, opened to the Society pages. Tonight was a huge benefit gala for the local children’s research hospital and most of the area senators would be in attendance, glad-handing and baby-kissing to get that all-important vote the following year. Just so happened Senator Lawrence was in town and a featured speaker at tonight’s event. Turned out his venture capital company had funded a wing at the children’s hospital.

“Aren’t you the sharp dressed man tonight. Going to meet an Admiral or something?” Shayma said, leaning in the bathroom doorway, a short towel that left little to his imagination wrapped around her.

“Or something.” He was half-tempted to toss her back into the bed and have his wicked way with her again. Her breathy cries of passion still echoed in his ears and when he licked his lips, he could still taste her there. She was in his blood now, despite their short time together, and he wasn’t sure exactly how he’d live without her when this was all over.

But he would. Somehow. She had her life back in Al Dar Nasrani and he had his here in the States. Hell, for all he knew he’d be back for another stint in the SEALs anyway. Once he made a final decision on that. One more item on his seemingly never-ending to-do list.

Honestly, he’d never had this much trouble making up his mind about his life. He was usually a charge forward kind of guy, but this whole re-enlistment thing had thrown him for an unexpected loop. It had been one thing when his buddies were going back with him, as part of their highly secretive and elite SOG—Special Operations Group—called the Doves. But now Daveed and Heath both were out of it. Civilian life seemed to agree with them too. Daveed had Melanie and Heath had his money and his businesses to keep him busy, as well as this case with Aileen.

What did Murphy have though? Not much, that he could think of.

For the last ten years he’d ate, slept, and drank the military and the Doves Group and what did he have to show for it? Bunking down on his sister’s couch in his sister’s apartment and a whirlwind, scorching-hot affair with his best friend’s ex. A woman who was so far out of his league he was still amazed she’d want to be with a man like him.

The time for feeling sorry for himself was over though. If he could make contact with Senator Lawrence tonight and find out what he knew about EnKor and the disappearance of his sister Aileen, then that would lead him one step closer to finding his sister. Once he found his sister, he’d be free to go back into the SEALs again, if he wanted. Most likely, Shayma would be gone then too, back to her life on her gorgeous tropical island, far away from him. Which would be best, for both of them, he supposed.

She deserved more than he’d ever be able to give her. She deserved a man who could be there for her emotionally as well as physically, a man who’d be able to give her all the finer things in life he couldn’t afford at this point on his modest military salary. Sure, he had money in savings, but with his nomadic lifestyle he wasn’t settled yet. She deserved champagne and flowers and candy hearts. She deserved a happily ever after.

Murphy didn’t even know what his own future held at this point, let alone whether he could ever take on the responsibility of anyone else’s. He sighed and pulled his starched white shirt from its hanger, tugging it on as Shayma walked over to him to help button him up. Every brush of her fingers against his skin sent a tiny electrical storm through his nerve endings, all crashing thunder and flickering lightning.

“So, why won’t you tell me where you’re going?” Shayma asked, looking up into his eyes, her own narrowed. “It must be somewhere fancy, if you’re wearing a tux.”

He figured he’d already made enough mistakes with her in their short relationship. No sense adding more lies to the mix. Besides, they’d already argued about his solo act in finding his sister. Shouldn’t come as a big shock to her now that he was following through his plans. “I’m going to crash the benefit gala for the children’s hospital tonight at the MoMA. Senator Lawrence is a special guest and featured speaker. If I can get to him and talk to him about his involvement with EnKor and Aileen’s disappearance, I can hopefully get a new lead on finding my sister.”

“Good. You’ve reconsidered then.” She finished buttoning his collar then reached for the pair of gold cufflinks he’d laid out on the dresser. They’d belonged to his dad, tiny Army Ranger logos embellished on their front. She carefully slipped them into place. “I’d guess with their connections Daveed or Mel should be able to get you an invite. My father is also a major donor, so—”

“I haven’t changed my mind about anything.” He clasped her hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss before releasing her and turning away. “I’m going on my own tonight. The trail’s too hot to risk spooking the Senator by showing up full force. I figure I can bullshit my way past the guards at the doors and then go from there.”

“I see.” She snatched her clothes from the floor, not meeting his gaze. Her husky voice held an edge now, leaving him in no doubt about her opinion of his rogue mission tonight. She was still pissed. And he was still doing it anyway. He needed answers, dammit. Not that he didn’t want his buddies to have his back, but he couldn’t risk screwing this up. Besides, Heath and Daveed both had their own shit going on. Aileen was his sister, his responsibility. His to protect. He’d fulfill that duty in his own way, at his own time.

“And what about me, huh?” Shayma tugged on her own clothes, her hair still damp from the shower. “We had a deal, a partnership. I’m just supposed to kiss you on the cheek and wave goodbye and not bother you anymore? Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” No. He pulled out his jacket, covered in colorful ribbons and medals from his various citations and awards during his tours of duty, and slid it on then stared at himself in the mirror as he adjusted his officer’s hat. The word cut like glass in his throat, but he had to make a clean break, had to let her go now before he wouldn’t be able to later. Ship shape, he checked his watch, then grabbed the newspaper from the dresser as he slid his stockinged feet into his shiny black shoes. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to leave things, but right now his heart felt blown apart and he didn’t know how to handle that. Somehow, despite all his wishes and barriers, Shayma had sliced him open and laid all his deepest darkest emotions bare. She’d made him feel things he’d sworn never to feel again—love, trust, yearning, hope. All the things that would break him in the end. And he couldn’t break. Not yet. Not until he’d found Aileen and brought her home again, one way or another. He shoved the paper under his arm on the way out the bedroom door. Murphy didn’t look back at her, because that would hurt too goddamned bad, and kept his voice as steady and cool as he could. “It’s been fun. Please don’t forget to lock up when you go. Have a safe journey back home.”

He didn’t bother grabbing his coat on the way out the door, just made sure he had his keys and wallet. The cold might do him good now. In fact, the more frigid the temperatures outside, the better. He needed to freeze his heart against Shayma before it was too late. She made him want things, things that were out of his orbit, things that made him want to abandon his goals, abandon his old life, abandon everything except the white-hot connection between them. And that was unacceptable.

Until Aileen was home and safe again, that had to be his top priority.

No exceptions. No excuses.

No matter how badly his heart might be breaking because of it. No matter how badly he wanted to turn right around and run back upstairs and beg her to forgive his callousness and take him back into her arms again.

Finding his sister was mission number one right now, and Murphy never failed on a mission.

Never.

* * *

Angry didn’t begin to describe Shayma’s mood by the time she got back to her suite at the Plaza. She carried her handbag and the plastic bag she’d used to haul what little she’d had over at Aileen’s apartment back here into the spacious room and slammed the door behind her.

Done. She was done with men and most definitely done with Murphy Coen.

After what they’d shared together, after what they’d done last night, for him to leave like that without even a look back was too much. She tossed her stuff down on the table in the foyer and shrugged off her coat before stalking into the living room area. The TV was on. Mel sat in one corner of the large, overstuffed sofa.

The last thing she wanted to do was talk about what had happened at Aileen’s apartment. Things were still too raw and tender, too confusing. And seeing Murphy in his immaculate uniform? Lord, her heart was still fluttering from that vision.

Stupid heart.