Pleasing Her SEAL

Mason snorted. “Not my type, sweetheart.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, Mr. Guzman clearly      appeals to the future Mrs. Guzman, and that’s all that counts.”

“They here on the island already?” He returned the photo and      she stuck it back in her planner.

“Not yet.” Which was both surprising and not. “Julieta’s dress      is here—that’s the bride-to-be—but I haven’t actually seen them check in yet.      Mr. Guzman runs some kind of import-export business and has stuff come up at the      last minute all the time. Maybe he had a business thing. It must be nice to have      a private plane and go where you want, when you want.”

“Maybe.” Mason gestured at her tripod. “You done here? Want a      hand bringing this back to your villa?”

“A hand down the hill would be great,” she said, still thinking      about her missing bride and groom. She’d been counting on shooting their wedding      for her blog; if they were no-shows, she’d need to make alternative      arrangements. “Maybe I’ll see if his brother has arrived yet. Ask him if Mr.      Guzman’s plans have changed.”

Mason started breaking down her tripod. “He’s bringing family      to his wedding?”

She shrugged. “Just his brother, Santiago, according to      Julieta. He was planning to get to the island a few days before her, so she was      hoping to pawn some of the prewedding tasks off on him. He should have arrived      yesterday or today.”

She let him help her fold up the tripod, and then they headed      toward the path that led back to the resort. Since the sun had risen, the      lighting was no longer ideal, and she now had a date with her bed. A date that      would be even better if Mason followed her home. No.      He wasn’t a stray puppy. She didn’t get to bring him home.

He strode ahead of her, so she followed along, admiring the way      his cargo pants bunched over his butt as he walked. What he didn’t know wouldn’t      hurt him—and she’d definitely take a rain check on those pancakes.

2

WHEN THEY REACHED the base of the hill, Mason called squad halt on the operation. Maddie had given him permission to lead her down the hill, and down the hill only, so he handed over the tripod and flashed her a quick salute.

She blinked at him, taking the tripod automatically. “Uh. Thanks.” Her gaze dipped to the coffee stain on his shirt, her face radiating embarrassment. “Sorry about that. And about scalding you.”

She turned pink as if he were actually bothered by a few ounces of hot coffee. He’d been shot at, pinned down and ambushed more times than he could count. Coffee was the least of his worries, although her blush was cute.

“No worries, sweetheart. See you around?”

“Pancakes,” she answered, sounding slightly breathless, and he couldn’t hold back his grin. God, she was fun. When she went left, he hung back. Partly just to watch her go because, hell yeah, he enjoyed the sassy swing of her hips. Maybe she was trying to drive him crazy. It was a possibility.

Mr. Guzman, his ass.

The groom-to-be in Maddie’s photo was Diego Marcos and he would be arriving precisely never. His reservation had been canceled, courtesy of SEAL Team Sigma. The possibility of Marcos’s brother showing up on Fantasy Island, however, was an unpleasant wrinkle that he’d need to alert the rest of the SEAL team to. If they didn’t have intel on where the brother was, they needed to get it stat.

And added bonus... If Maddie ever found out what Mason had done, he’d be on her shit list for more reasons than scaring the bejesus out of her.

He opened his hand and looked down. He’d taken advantage of her panic to pop the memory card out of her very expensive camera. He’d always used an inexpensive point-and-shoot himself, but then his usual model was a dead enemy target that needed documenting. Sunrises clearly required better technology.

Unfortunately, boosting her memory card might not have been enough. If she’d transferred pictures via the resort’s Wi-Fi, he had a bigger problem than the square of plastic in his hand.