To Tempt a SEAL (Sin City SEALs 1)

“You’ll talk to me before then,” his friend said. “And remember, the clothes stay on.”

“’Bye, Natalie.”

He hung up without answering her request. He refused to make a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. Hell, he’d try. But one glance at Lucia and he knew there was no way he’d be able to get through today without feeling her skin against his at least one more time.

…

Lucia surveyed the beach built in the middle of the desert. Lounge chairs lined the sand. About half were filled, but it was still early by Vegas standards. And in the distance stood a three-story building with floor-to-ceiling windows. Through the glass, she spotted bikini-clad dealers standing behind gambling tables.

The sun shined high above the desert beach. Thirty minutes on a lounge chair in the July heat and she would be ready for a visit to the air-conditioned casino. Or maybe a swim. Assuming she found the courage to strip off her knee-length black dress and abandon the wide-brimmed hat currently shading her face on the chair.

The hat didn’t hide her face, but it would hopefully help her avoid some of the blatant stares. Still, men and women glanced up as they walked past, some looking longer than others.

“One-piece or two?” he murmured, leaning close to her. He’d traded his tux for navy-blue board shorts that hung low around his waist and a gray T-shirt with the words “The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday” on the back.

“What?” Her body responded to the deep growl of his voice. Beneath her suit and cover-up, her nipples yearned for his touch.

“Your bathing suit,” he said. “I can’t stop thinking about what’s beneath your dress.”

“One-piece.” She looked out at the water. Three women wearing small pieces of fabric masquerading as bathing suits splashed in the waves. Blonde, with slim waists and full breasts threatening to escape their suits with each movement, they looked like a scene out of Barbie’s day at the beach.

Cade tossed a towel over a chair and spread another on a second chair for her. “Want a drink? First round is on me.”

One of the Barbie girls was now looking in their direction. The first one had caught her friends’ attention and was now pointing at them.

“Ignore them,” he said.

But she studied the woman’s face, her pouty lips parting as if she might start drooling. “They’re not looking at me.”

“Good,” he said, spreading his towel over the chair.

“No.” She settled onto the lounge chair. “I bet they’re debating who should come over first. Or maybe they’re planning to ambush the sexy sailor on the shore.”

He glanced over the bikini trio and then behind them, as if seeking another target. “I don’t have ‘SEAL’ tattooed on my forehead.”

“It’s your muscles. They’re like a homing device. I bet this happens all the time.”

“Yeah, I walk into war zones and the bad guys are drawn to me and my biceps,” he said, offering a taste of dry wit that combined so perfectly with his deep voice.

“Joke all you want, but they’re heading this way.”

The trio walked out of the ocean as if auditioning for a swimsuit commercial.

I bet they bypassed the biscuits on the breakfast buffet.

He spared them a glance before returning his attention to her. The laser-like focus in his green eyes formed a lethal combination with his devilish smile. As soon as he opened his mouth, she would melt into a puddle of simmering, burning need.

“I have a plan to distract and redirect the enemy,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “If the Navy sends you out to defend our freedoms against girls in bikinis, I’m beginning to see why guys are willing to suffer through BUD/S training.”

“Guys join because they want to be the best,” he said. “So, are you in?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the trio moving closer. “I’m in.”

“Take off your dress and lie down on your stomach,” he ordered.

She hesitated. The suit showed so much of her. Maybe not as much as the ambushing Barbies, but she had more to hide.