Pleasing Her SEAL

The noise of a boat coming in hard and fast on the quiet side      of the island was a surprise. With her camera lens, she zoomed in on a pair of      black rubber dinghies bouncing over the lagoon’s calm surface. Huh. She squinted, trying to make out the details. Not      only did the guys riding the Zodiac look mean, but they were toting a small      arsenal, too.

“Good view?” At the sound of the deep male voice behind her,      Maddie flinched, arms and legs jerking in shock. Her camera flew forward as she      scrambled backward. As adrenaline surged through her, she sucked in air—happy place, happy place—but her lungs betrayed her      anyhow, her airway closing up tight. It felt like an elephant had parked its ass      on her chest.

Strong male fingers fastened around her wrist. Panicked, she      grabbed her croissant and lobbed it at the guy, followed by her coffee. He      cursed and dodged.

“It’s not a good day to jump without a chute.” He tugged her      away from the edge of the lookout, and she got her first good look at him. Not a      stranger. Okay, then. Her heart banged hard against      her rib cage, pummeling her out-of-air lungs, before settling back into a more      normal rhythm. Mason. Mason      I-Can’t-Be-Bothered-To-Tell-You-My-Last-Name-But-I’m-A-Stud. He led the cooking      classes by the pool. She’d written him off as good-looking but aloof, not      certain if she’d spotted a spark of potential interest in his dark eyes. Wishful      thinking or dating potential—it was probably a moot point now, since she’d just      pegged him with her croissant, followed by her mocha. Usually she couldn’t hit      the broad side of a barn, but she’d scored a bull’s-eye on the front of his      T-shirt.

She sneaked a peek at him. He didn’t seem pissed off. On the      contrary, he simply rocked back on his haunches, hands held out in front of him.          I come in peace, she thought, fortunately too      out of breath to giggle. The side of his shirt sported a dark stain from her      coffee. Oh, goody. She’d actually scalded him. Way to make an impression on a      poor, innocent guy. This was why her dating life sucked.

She tried to wheeze out an apology, but he shook his head.

“Let’s get you breathing.”

She had to agree with his priorities. Plus, if he wanted her      breathing, he clearly hadn’t morphed from resort chef to serial killer, so he      had some other reason for being up here. Who knew? Maybe he was a secret sunrise      aficionado. With a grimace, she dumped her bag upside down on the ground,      looking for the inhaler hiding somewhere in the mountain of stuff she carted      around. Mason made a choked sound, but she ignored him. So she had a lot of stuff. Preparation was the key to surviving,      right? Plus, she really, really hated cleaning out her bag. Mason rifled through      the contents, his fingers skimming over her secret chocolate stash, mini samples      from her Birchbox subscription, three pairs of sunglasses, a paperback and a      clear plastic pouch of emergency tampons. Since he didn’t look as if he wanted      to run back down the hill screaming, she concentrated on breathing.

“Got it.” Uncapping her inhaler, he handed it to her. Dark      brown eyes watched her as she primed the device and shoved it into her mouth. “I      scared you.”

“You think?” The albuterol went to work, her lungs opening up      like her puffer was a magic wand and she’d just chanted open sesame. She hated having to rely on the device, but sometimes      she couldn’t talk herself out of panicking.

“That wasn’t my intention.” The look on his face was part      chagrin, part repentance. Worked for her.

“I’ll put a bell around your neck.” Where had he learned to      move so quietly?

“Why don’t we start over?” He stuck out a hand. A big,      masculine, slightly muddy hand. She probably shouldn’t want to seize his fingers      like a lifeline. “I’m Mason Black.”