by Tawny Weber
“Ready?” Miller asked.
She nodded, pulling herself out of the pool. Stretching, she poised on the edge, ready to go.
“Master Chief, you call it,” Miller said.
“Set,” the Master Chief warned. “Go!”
Tabby dove in. She was a natural in the water. And adrenaline aided her to an 11:03 finish according to the Master Chief.
“I did good!” she said, looking up at Miller.
He offered a hand up. “Cut several minutes. Build your endurance. You might make a mile in under an hour.”
She tried not to notice the way her hand fit perfectly in his. “Might?” she scoffed. He was talking about the end of Phase I. Trainees had nine weeks to meet that requirement.
“Might.”
“Nothing like a vote of confidence. I’ll make it by the end of my four weeks here.” Three, this week was almost over.
His blue eyes sparkled, reflecting the color of the water. “I don’t make predictions. A trainee has to want it. I can’t see what’s in another man’s heart. Or a woman’s.”
It was a good thing, considering the way she felt right now. She couldn’t lose sight of her goal because of a pair of blue eyes. Too many other women fell in love and did.
“I want it.”
“You have ten minutes to rest before push-ups. Spread your towel,” he said, curtly and walked away.
“Do trainees use a towel?”
“Use the towel. You’ll scrape your hands and knees raw without it.”
She looked to the Master Chief. He shook his head. Trainees didn’t use towels, and neither would she. Her hands were raw by the time she completed forty-five pushups in two minutes, but she’d met the requirement with three to spare.
She’d have given anything to wipe the I-told-you-so look off Miller’s face when she refused to get on her knees and use a towel for pushups. Then she breezed through ninety sit-ups in two minutes. Miller held her ankles, and they were face-to-face on every up with only her knees between them.
Pull-ups were the hardest, but there was no time limit to complete the six. And she had his comments about the difference between men’s and women’s upper body strength to egg her on.
“How about that,” the Master Chief said, recording her results.
Miller took the clipboard from him and examined it. “Passable,” he said. “But these are only entry level requirements, Lieutenant. You have a long way to go. We can start with CPR and drownproofing.
“I’ll get the ropes and Resuscitation Annie,” the Master Chief offered, before heading toward the pool house.
“How are your hands?” Miller asked.
“They’ll hold up.”
Just then, with boom box blaring, Leighton, Perry and another instructor she learned was the XO, Lieutenant Commander Harmon Kyle, burst from the locker room at the end of the pool house. Leighton deposited the stereo on the bleachers and dove into the pool.
“Looks like we have company,” she commented to Miller.
Miller checked his watch. “When we’re not in a training cycle I let them knock off early on Fridays. It makes up for the otherwise long hours. Go ahead and take a break, Lieutenant, we’ll get back to CPR later this afternoon.”
The Master Chief came back with a bucket of ropes and the life-size Annie tucked under his arm. He set the doll in one of the lounge chairs and placed the bucket beside it. Miller told him to take a break, too. So the Master Chief sat and lit up a cigar.
“Hey, Master Chief,” Leighton called out. “Got a hot date with Annie?”
“You already have her calendar full.”
The Master Chief’s retort elicited chuckles from Perry and Kyle, who were busy setting up a net across the width of the pool. As soon as they finished, they began knocking the volleyball around.
“Marc! You in?” Leighton asked. “We need a fourth.”
“I’m busy.”
“You’re always busy. Time for a little fun.”
“Go ahead, kid.” the Master Chief encouraged.
Marc shook his head and settled in next to Murphy with his clipboard. “I have training schedules I need to go over.” It was an excuse. What kind of example would he set if he played around all the time?
Tabby shrugged and turned to the group in the pool. “I’m game.”
“Not on my team, darlin’, I play to win.”
“Well, I don’t play to lose.”
“You can be on my side, Lieutenant,” Perry said.
Leighton served and the ball flew over the net before Tabitha even had a chance to get in the water. Perry dove for it and missed.
“One, nothing.” Leighton gloated, setting up his next serve.
This time Tabitha and Perry were ready and a lively game of two-on-two water volleyball followed. Marc found himself more interested in the game than the schedules. Leighton and Kyle cheated their way to victory in the first set. Admittedly, Leighton did all the cheating; Kyle just benefited. But Tabitha and Perry got the better of them the second time around.
“Break over, time to get back to work, Lieutenant Chapel.” He called her out of the water before the winners could be determined with a tie-breaking game.
“You should have let us finish,” Tabitha said, water cascading down her body as she emerged from the pool.
“We have work to do.”
The guys clambered from the pool behind her and headed over to the cooler for cold drinks.
“I’d be happy to volunteer for basic CPR,” Hugh said, joining them. Up close, his skin still held a sickly green pallor.
“I already know the basics,” Tabitha countered.
“I could teach you advanced, darlin’.”
Marc scowled at him. “Hugh, why don’t you take the boats out for a maintenance run?”
“Sure,” he agreed readily. “Lieutenant Chapel—”
“Is leaving early today so she can make it to her brother’s graduation.”
“If you don’t need me anymore, Commander, I’ll ride along.” Murphy rose from his chair.
Perry and Kyle also decided to go along for the test run of the boats. And that left him alone with Tabitha. And Annie.
“Thanks—for letting me go to Nevada. I really appreciate it,” she said once everyone was gone. “I thought you’d forgotten.”
He had. He’d been distracted all week by her and by his own version of the study. And now he felt like a heel for not thinking of it sooner. “Tell him to give me a call,” he said, getting the frown he deserved.
“Tell him yourself.” She picked up two lengths of cord from the bucket. “I have my CPR certification, but do you have time for drown-proofing before I head out?”
He had promised to show her the ropes, so to speak. He already regretted it. “Turn around.”
Normally there were divers in the water, lifeguards around the rim, and an instructor or two in the observation deck watching the trainees from behind thick panes of glass. He trusted his skills enough to know the danger wasn’t in drowning her. The danger was in her submitting to his control while they were alone.
She turned and placed her hands behind her back.
“You trust too easily,” he scolded, binding her wrists. And once she found out he was playing both sides of her study, she’d have every reason never to trust him again. He tied her ankles without another word.
She tugged against the unnatural confinement.
He gave her a cocky grin. “A trainee only has to say I quit and he’s out of the program. I’ll make it easy on you. You cry uncle at any time, and I’ll let you go. Otherwise you’re mine.”
He meant his to control. And not necessarily the possessiveness he felt toward her. There was significance to the word he’d chosen. He knew she wouldn’t say it, but he’d given her the key to her chains.
“I don’t know how, Lieutenant, but you’ve just escaped the enemy. Your hands and feet are bound. And you’ve made it to water.”
‘‘What do you mean you
don’t know how? I did it with wit and cunning.” She took a faltering hop backward.
He reached out to steady her. “Okay, Lieutenant. You outfoxed the bad guys. Now comes the scary part, letting go.” He pushed her backward. With a splash she hit the water. “Bob. And keep bobbing.” He’d seen to it she barely had time to catch her breath before going under. Struggling against the ropes, she made a valiant effort to surface before sinking. She came up a second and third time, gasping for air.
“Don’t fight it!” he instructed. “Push off the bottom. Bend at the knees.”
She pushed and resurfaced above the twelve-foot depth, then settled into a rhythm of pushing and breathing for several minutes.
“Let the water do the work,” he encouraged when she showed signs of fatigue. He settled on the edge of the pool. “Keep it up.”
“I don’t exactly have a choice,” she rasped out.
“Sure you do. Uncle.”
“No way.” She sucked in water.
He slipped in and brought her to the surface. “Deep breaths, now,” he said, supporting her and treading water for both of them. Two wet bodies, limbs entwined. There wasn’t an inch of her he wasn’t aware of. Long, water-spiked lashes framed sparkling green eyes, stealing what was left of his breath and replacing it with desire.
She’d impressed the hell out of him today. But her hope of becoming a SEAL was next to nil. Why couldn’t she accept it?
“Tired yet?” he asked.
“No.”
“Try doing it for hours.”
“If I had to.”
“You wouldn’t make it one day. You’re wet and cold. Tired and hungry all the damn time. That’s what it’s like to be a Navy SEAL.” He continued to tread water. “It’s all guts and no glory. And I can’t figure out why the hell you want that.”
“Why do you?”
His chest tightened. Damned if he knew. It had started out as something to do. Then something to prove. And along the way it became something he loved. Being a SEAL hadn’t just made him a man. It had become a part of the man.
The man who wanted to kiss her so damn bad he could taste it. And there was only one way he could ever have her. “Quit, damn it!”
“No!” She looked deep into his eyes, as if gauging what was coming next.
He let go.
She resurfaced, and he held her above water again.
“Rat.” She sputtered. She’d put herself in his control. The game wouldn’t end until he said so. Or she quit.
He lifted her to the side of the pool. And climbed up after her. “I’m a sailor, not a Boy Scout.”
Her shoulder strap slipped.
He reached over and pushed it back in place, his fingers lingering under the material. His hand ached to follow through by cupping her warm softness.
Game over, before he lost control. “That’s enough drown-proofing for today.” He met her gaze and saw beyond the strength to the vulnerability she tried to hide. “Why a Navy SEAL, Tabitha?”
“Because I never learned to take no for an answer,” she said quietly, trusting him with the deepest part of herself. “I joined the Navy for adventure. Not the watered down version I’ve been assigned. I’m tired of climbing paper mountains.”
Marc’s throat tightened. He’d love to be the man who could give this woman everything she wanted. But she wanted the impossible.
“I’ve never had much use for Boy Scouts. How about untying this knot, sailor?” She draped her feet across his lap. “I asked you the same question,” she reminded him. “Why are you a SEAL? What is it you want?”
He worked the cord at her ankles, rubbing her abused flesh, noticing how soft it was beneath his callused hands. He could only think of one thing he wanted right now. “Maybe I don’t need a reason for being a SEAL. Maybe I just am what I am.” He reached around to untie her hands. His arms encircled her and their bodies came within inches of being pressed together.
Maybe he just wanted to be a better man.
“It’s my turn to tie you up and take you prisoner,” she teased, taking his hands in hers.
It wasn’t the physical restriction of the exercise that made him hesitate. He’d done it many times before. He could swim the length of the pool and back with hands and feet bound. It was something else that caused him to take the cord from her before she had the chance to use it.
Trust was all about believing in yourself or someone else, and the hardest part was giving up control. She trusted him enough to let him bind her hands and feet. She probably also trusted him not to go behind her back to make sure she never achieved her goals. He didn’t want to play this game anymore, not when he’d already broken her trust.
Marc stood. “You’d better get going if you want to make your brother’s graduation.”
Chapter 11
1355 Friday
NAVAL AIR STATION FALLON
Fallon, NV
Tabby had borrowed Nydia’s little red coupe for the eight-hour drive to the Naval Air Station in Fallon, Nevada and had spent the night in a motel off base. Now showered and changed into dress whites, she found herself pressed for time.
The long drive had given her too much time to think about the cat and mouse game she and Miller had going on. Neither of them had anything to gain by pursuing the other and everything to lose. Those thoughts were enough to her tossing and turning all night.
And yet here she was counting the minutes until they were close enough just to breathe the same air again.
Arriving at the Silver State Officers Club, she parked the borrowed coupe and realized she should have been thinking about what she’d say to her father.
Flying an inverted V overhead, four F-14 Tomcats thundered past, emitting red, white, and blue jet streams from their tails. Then one pilot tipped his wings in a symbolic salute and dropped out. The others continued on in the missing man formation.
The sight never failed to tighten her throat.
She hurried around the building to the uncovered patio, then slipped into the last seat, in the last row, at the last possible minute. Tabby watched with pride as Zach received top honors, graduating first in his class. She also noticed that Michelle Dann was one of only two women in the graduating class. It was only a matter of time before one or two women were graduating with each class of SEALs.
The Prince and Dann families occupied the entire front row. After the formalities, Tabby made her way forward through the crowd. Chairs were taken out of their neat rows as soon as people stood and placed around tables being set up for the festivities to follow.
“And here she is, the prodigal daughter,” Her twenty-three-year-old baby brother, Bowie moved toward her with the family camcorder. “How’s it hanging, Tab?”
“That’s Lieutenant Tab to you, Midshipman,” she said with mock sternness, noting how handsome he looked in dress whites.
At almost six feet, he only topped her by an inch.
“We’d saved you a seat,” her mother said. “Your hair’s very pretty. I like that new cut.” Lily Chapel-Prince was stunning in a cream-colored suit with her blond hair pinned neatly into a chignon. Seeing her mother in all her finery, Tabby wished she’d opted for civilian clothes instead of her uniform.
“What happened to your hands?”
“I, uh, fell and scraped them,” Tabby said, locking her hands behind her back.
“Mitch said he wasn’t sure the Commander would let you go,” her mother continued in an undertone with the faintest hint of another meaning behind it.
“He’d have to answer to me if he didn’t.” Her father, impressive in his own dress whites, pulled her into the crook of his arm. “Late, that’s not like you.”
“I slipped into a seat at the back,” she admitted. “But I was here on time.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and drew from his strength.
He pulled back. “You’re full of affection. What’s going on here? You have a new haircut and a lovey-dovey look in your eye. I’m eithe
r about to open my wallet or kick some ass, which is it?”
“I don’t need any money. And I can do my own ass kicking.”
“What is it they have you doing over at SPECWAR? Mitch was vague on the subject.”
“That’s because my position is rather vague. The Commander has me learning the ropes…” She squirmed under her father’s steady gaze. “You know, admin stuff mostly…” She wasn’t exactly lying to her father. “…some PT with the instructors.”
“You kicking their asses in PT?”
“As best I can.” At least that was the truth.
The graduating member of the family joined them, and her mother insisted on getting a picture of the four of them in uniform with the Captain as centerpiece and a Lieutenant, Lieutenant Junior Grade and a Midshipman around him.
“And Miller?” he asked between takes.
“Say cheese,” her mom said.
“Doesn’t want me there.” She said under her breath with a smile plastered on her face. “And I don’t want or need you to say or do anything to try and change his mind.”
“I see,” he said in that all-knowing tone of his. “Tiger, you can bring any man to his knees and don’t forget it.”
Just as her mom took the shot her dad kneed her in the back of the knee. Her brothers caught her as her leg collapsed.
Laughing, Tabby regained her balance. “I should have seen that coming.”
“Yes you should have my little tiger shark. Make breakfast out of those SEALs.”
“Tad, quit horsing around.” Her mom scolded him.
No surprise, the picture of her laughing, and her brothers and dad pulling her up, turned out to be the best of the bunch.
But her mother refused to excuse them until she’d taken several more snapshots. It was clear who outranked whom in this family. As a certified shipmaster, Lily Chapel-Prince was a captain in her own right, and the only one of them licensed to pilot a ship.
Before she’d become both Navy wife and mother, she’d been an explorer, searching for sunken treasure aboard the family-owned salvage tender, the SS Lily Pad. In more ways than one, her father was a rich man because of her mother.
