To Seduce a SEAL (Sin City SEALs 3)

He blinked under the bright lights and she took aim at his windpipe, her palm flat. His training kicked in before his mind processed the situation, and he caught her wrist. But she just kept smiling as if she’d ended up exactly where she wanted to be.

She closed the space between them and raised her free hand to his jaw. “Now it’s been a while since my last training session with a SEAL, but if I remember right, when I end up here, I do this…”

She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chrissie ran her fingers through his hair and knocked his cowboy hat to the ground. He’d come all this way for her. Her audience could take a backseat to him for tonight. She’d always performed from the heart, and tonight was no exception. And her heart belonged to the SEAL standing before her.

“Chrissie,” he murmured, breaking the kiss but keeping a hold on her wrist. His other hand had found its way to her cheek. “Honey, you’re ruining my disguise.”

“You don’t need one,” she said. “Not with me.”

“I wasn’t planning to do this here,” he said. “Like this.”

She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Then toss me over your shoulder, sailor, and carry me away. We can do this anywhere you’d like.”

He looked out at the crowd. She followed his gaze, and the audience stared back, eyes glued to the stage as if someone had switched the channel from concert to live celebrity gossip.

Then he stepped back but kept a hold of her hands. “No, I’m not walking away until I say what I came to say. I love you, Chrissie Tate. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”

“Even after I told the world that there are things more important than love?” she said.

He smiled. “Well, you’ve already admitted you were wrong about that.”

The audience laughed.

“I was,” she said.

“We can make this work with the time we have,” he said, his expression taking a turn toward serious. “I’ll fly to meet you wherever you are when I have leave. I’m not much of a writer. Not like you. But I swear, I’ll send letters or emails every damn day. It doesn’t matter where I go. And afterward, I’ll always come home to you. It won’t be perfect. But I’ll give you all I have to give—my heart, my trust—and I swear I’ll be as loyal to you as I am to my team and my country.”

“We’ll make it work,” she affirmed. “I know we will, because I won’t let you take a backseat to my career. You’re in my heart now, a part of my life and my m

usic.”

She paused and turned to the crowd. Raising her voice, though she knew that everyone in the famous café had caught every word, she called, “Now, I know many of you don’t recognize him with his clever disguise, but I’d like to introduce you to my former bodyguard, Dante Raske, a proud member of the U.S. Navy SEALs.”

The audience applauded, and at least one person called out a heartfelt “welcome.”

“Now, I have a secret to share with you all, that I’m guessing will be out there on Twitter and all soon,” she continued. “My former bodyguard taught me a lot more than self-defense.”

A woman in the back of the intimate performance space let out a loud “woot!”

“That’s exactly how I feel when I’m with him.” She stole a quick glance at the man who was watching her as if the audience didn’t exist. He looked like the man who’d reluctantly stepped into her music video in those jeans and boots. But she could see past the clothes to the man she loved. “Because this man taught me how to open my heart to love. I got it wrong the first time I penned a song about him. But Dante, if you let me, I promise you, I’ll get it right the second time around.”

“Oh, I’ll let you, honey.” He pulled her into his arms. “You can write as many songs as you want about me. On two conditions.”

She raised an eyebrow as the crowd fell silent again. They were probably just as eager to hear his demands.

“First, no tractors in the songs you write about us.” His hands ran down her back. He held tight to her hips, drew her close, and dropped his voice. “But I’m happy to serve as your muse for the sex and love songs.”

She nodded as someone in the front row gasped. “No tractors. I can do that. And the second condition?”

“Honey, there are three little words I’m still waiting to hear,” he said, staring down at her.

She saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty lingering in his dark eyes, and she knew what to say. She ran her hands over his chest and up to his face. “Dante, I love you. No matter where you go, know that I’ll be waiting at home for you. Always.”

Epilogue