by Hill, Teresa
His gaze held steady on hers, and he didn’t tell her to not jump to overly dramatic conclusions.
“One more thing — try not to act like you feel sorry for her. She really hates that.”
“Okay.”
She had a million more questions, but Leah came back and Dani wanted to keep Amanda’s troubles private.
Mace raved about Leah’s dinner until she glowed, and Dani wondered if her roommate was going to join his long line of female admirers.
If so, it didn’t keep Leah from sleeping. She dropped right off. But Dani lay there in the queen-sized bed they were sharing and stared at Mace’s white walls.
She’d fought so hard against letting him be important to her, but she was nearly panicked at the thought of him leaving. She kept flashing back to saying goodbye to Aaron in the airport in Athens. It had felt horrible, even though she’d believed she’d see him again in three months.
Which had turned into never.
Which made her even more convinced that any goodbye could be forever. They were out there waiting to sneak up on her when she wasn’t expecting it. Or even when she expected it all the time. Which might be even worse. Probably was worse.
It felt huge, overwhelming, like nothing she could handle on her own.
She had the insane urge to slip into his bedroom, into his bed, and hold him so tight he couldn’t leave. Her head was all messed up, and her heart hurt. She kept thinking, if she could just hold Aaron one more time, have his arms around her … She’d give anything for that.
She could have it with Mace.
He gave the best hugs. His body was so warm and hard in all the right places, and he smelled so good. Some guys hugged half-heartedly. Some did it just trying to cop a feel. And some did it like holding you was the most important thing in the world, and they wanted you to know it.
Mace hugged like that. His hugs were super-charged, infused with kindness and that little lick of heat because it was impossible to forget about the fine body attached to his arms.
In those perfect three weeks with Aaron, she’d felt drunk on his body, his touch, his scent, his lips. She’d never felt so free to touch a guy constantly, and he’d almost never taken his hands off her, as though being more than an arm’s length away was too far.
He’d fought and won against her cautious nature, but now she was even more fiercely guarded. Yet Mace kept sneaking in around her mistrust, under it, over the top of it. He was an over-the-top kind of guy.
Who was leaving.
She slipped out of bed. Like a sleepwalker, helpless to determine her own course, she walked across the hall and into his bedroom. His was on the ocean side, and he slept with the curtains open. He got up with the sun, if not before, so the light wouldn’t bother him. Now, the moonlight helped her see him clearly.
He didn’t move. She didn’t detect any change in his breathing,. She felt safe standing there watching him sleep and trying to figure out what to do.
Which was why, when he opened his eyes, she squeaked in surprise.
He jumped out of bed and was by her side in a split second. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She doubted that wouldn’t work with him, but it did give her another moment to find a reason for being in his bedroom.
“Did you hear something? Do you think someone’s in the apartment?”
“No.”
“Someone trying to get in?”
“No.”
“Did you have an nightmare?”
“No.”
“Dani, I’ve never seen you look like this. What the hell is going on?”
“You’re leaving.”
He blinked down at her. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes, but when she looked down instead she realized he slept in a sinfully snug pair of boxer briefs that … God, the muscles in his thighs, narrowness of his waist … The bulge of his cock near his right hip bone …
It took her forever to look away, and when she did, he’d frozen in place. He didn’t even seem to be breathing anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Did she have to come up with a reason why?
He let the silence lie there between them. She grew more uncomfortable with every passing second.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered.
“I hate good-byes.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to use the words? Don’t want me to use the words? Want me to slip out in the morning while you’re asleep? Tell me what you need, Dani, and I’ll do my best to give it to you.”
“You don’t give me what I want, Mace. You give me what you think I need.”
“Guilty,” he admitted. “But now I’m asking. What do you need?”
“It’s silly.” She couldn’t say it. It was too embarrassing.
“I don’t care. What?”
“It’s too much.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You think I could refuse you anything? Except leaving you alone, but I don’t think that’s what we’re talking about. What do you need, Dani?”
So few people had ever asked her that. The words didn’t compute. She knew their meaning, but she wasn’t used to asking for anything, and she couldn’t flip that switch in her head to let herself think that way and speak the words out loud.
“You’re scared?” he guessed.
She nodded, her throat going tight.
“Give me a second to put some clothes on, and we’ll talk.” He walked over to his chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of athletic shorts.
Back in her own room, she grabbed a pair of leggings. They’d be enough with the oversized t-shirt she slept in.
She thought they’d sit in the living room, but in the hall he took her hand and tugged her back into his bedroom, then opened the sliding glass doors leading to a small balcony. She stepped outside, and a moment later, he did, too, holding a comforter he wrapped around her. It felt nice with the wind that night.
His hair was mussed up, and his eyes were deep-set and dark.
“What about you? You’ll get cold,” she said.
“I hardly ever get cold.”
She could believe that, because she knew how warm his body always seemed to be. He’d hugged her before, held her. She knew how good that felt.
“Come sit down,” he said.
She didn’t know if she could sit still. He was leaving. She panicked at the thought of telling him good-bye. She was desperate to hang onto him, to be close to him in any way.
“Dani, what is it?”
She didn’t have an answer she wanted to give him, so she spread the comforter down on the balcony floor and sat down, draped the other end of it over her shoulders. He sat, too, facing her. It was nice here. The sky was a clear bluish-black with a nearly full moon leaving a trail of light across the ocean. White caps broke on the beach, climbed up it and then slid back into the water.
“So,” he said finally, “this is making you think about Aaron? You’re scared that I won’t come back, either?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I’ll have my whole squad with me, Will and his squad, too. We’re very, very good at what we do, and we are just doing some training, I swear.”
“People die in SEAL training exercises. I read about it.”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But rarely. Very rarely.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I’m sorry, Dani. I don’t want you to ever lose anyone again — ”
“Everybody loses people. It’s a part of life.”
“Okay, I can’t promise you that you’ll never lose anyone else who’s close to you, but I can promise that I will be as careful as I can possibly be. We practice everything we do so carefully, so many times, so that when it comes time to execute a mission, we’ve got it down cold. We know what we’re doing, how we’re doing it. We know everything about the enemy we’re facing. We know each other and how we respond to things. We’re a great team. We have s
o many advantages, no matter who or what we’re going up against.”
“Okay.”
But it sucked. It still scared her.
She didn’t want to care about him as much as she did. She didn’t want to care about anyone this much again. She didn’t want to think about what exactly she felt for this man who’d shoved his way into her life and turned it upside-down.
“What else?” he asked.
So many things, questions she was afraid to ask, things she didn’t want to feel.
“Think you’ll be able to sleep now?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. But you don’t have to sit up with me. I’ll be fine. You have things to do tomorrow.”
“I’m fine. I’ll sleep on the plane.”
She just wanted to be here, close to him, and try not to think about him leaving.
“Dani, what do you want?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, felt her face flame. Thank goodness for the darkness.
“Anything,” he said.
She had no idea what he was offering, what he was feeling. She didn’t even know what she was feeling.
No, she did. Panic that he was leaving, that she had to let him go.
She must have let it show in her face, because he leaned forward, scooped her up and sat her on his lap. She gave a little squeak of surprise.
There was skin, heat. Hard thighs, his abs, his arms wrapped around her and pulling her against his chest. Slowly, she leaned her head against his shoulder, felt his hand smoothing her hair and then his chin resting against her head.
His hands came together at her side, fingers linked loosely together at her right hip.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
This was the best, the safest she’d felt … maybe ever.
A million sensations bombarded her, all of them good. Even through his clothes and hers, he was blasting her with heat. She was wearing a t-shirt, worn thin and so soft, and he … He was all nice, warm, bare skin from the waist up.
She’d never been close to him like this. It made her dizzy. She’d been going crazy earlier, trying to sleep a few feet away from him, imagining sleeping beside him in his bed, having the right to snuggle close to him, press her body against his, run her hands through his hair, down his arm, down his chest.
That would make it so much harder when he left, her voice of reason said.
It would confuse everything between them. Complicate them. Maybe ruin this great relationship where he kept trying to take care of her and give her what he insisted she needed, and she kept trying to shove him away.
It sounded ridiculous when she put it that way, but she didn’t want it to end, just as she was terrified of letting anything else between them start.
His hands stroked slowly through her hair, and it felt so soothing and relaxing she groaned. She nestled against him, pressing her face into his chest, and told him a secret. “You make me want things I shouldn’t.”
“Who says you shouldn’t want those things?”
He didn’t ask what she wanted. Did that mean he knew? Had she given it all away? Maybe by the way she was curled up against him now? Yeah, that might do it.
“I know I shouldn’t.”
She would have pulled away, but his arm slid up her back, and his big hand cupped her head and kept her pressed against him.
“You really haven’t been with anyone since before you deployed?” None of her business, but she asked anyway, as if she had the right.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t do causal.”
“Every guy does casual,” she insisted.
“Oh, I had my days.” He chuckled. “It … uhh ... got old. Fast. I like getting to know a woman, figuring out what makes her special, different. I like being with someone day after day, not trying to put on a show or pretend to be someone I’m not. I like comfortable, relaxed, familiar.”
“For … months? Years?”
“I’ve had a couple of long-term girlfriends. It was nice. They were great. Both of them.”
“So, what happened?”
“Their lives went one way. Mine went another.”
“And it never occurred to you that you could go with them? Or they could go with you?”
“Not where I was going.”
“Which was …?”
“Here.”
“The Navy? The SEAL teams?”
“Yeah. It’s too much. Wouldn’t be fair to expect a woman to give up so much to follow me here and always be waiting and worrying about whether I’d come back.”
“Is that what you decided for them? Or did you give them a choice?”
“It wouldn’t be right,” he said again.
“You didn’t give them a choice, did you? Do you always think you know what’s right for other people?”
“Are you saying I don’t?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He gave a huge grin, which made no sense.
“You like it when I give you a hard time?”
“What if I do?”
“You are so annoying,” she complained.
“I know. Promise me you’ll stay here and not get into any trouble.”
“It’s not like I try to get into trouble. Sometimes, trouble finds me.”
“Not while I’m gone. I’m gonna worry about you. I can’t help it.”
“I can’t help it, either. I’ll be scared the whole time you’re gone that something has happened to you.”
His arms tightened around her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”
“You thought you’d just swoop in, fix everything in my life and swoop out, and we wouldn’t even end up being friends? Friends who worry about each other?”
“I don’t know what I was thinking, except that I had to find you.”
A thought struck her. What if he never had found her? She’d still be living in the fog, still be numb. As angry as she’d been at him, he had shaken up her life, and it had needed shaking.
“I’m glad you did,” she admitted.
“Yeah? Me, too.”
“It feels so good, sitting here with you, you holding me. I feel so safe. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“You should always feel safe.”
Most of her life, she hadn’t. Which she would never admit to him. She’d sound pathetic, like she wanted him to feel sorry for her, and she didn’t.
God, this man.
What was she going to do with him and all the feelings she was developing for him?
She never wanted them to leave this spot.
“You’re not going to get any sleep at all.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He went back to stroking her hair.
She came awake when he lifted her in his arms, and was vaguely aware he was carrying her, and then he lowered her to a bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
She sank into a bed that smelled like him. He pulled the sheet and his comforter over her and tucked her in.
“You’re going? Already?”
“Yeah. I have to.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after four.”
“I didn’t want to fall asleep.” She had wanted to feel every moment with him.
She was afraid she was going to cry, an ugly, pathetic, out-of-control, sobbing kind of crying.
“Hey, don’t do that,” he whispered.
Panic flooded through her body until she felt like she was drowning in it.
“Dani, stop it.” He tilted her face up to his. “Stop whatever you’re thinking and kiss me goodbye.”
She could do that. She’d wanted to for so long and denied the feeling so completely she hadn’t even been aware of it. His mouth came down on hers, warm breath, soft lips, seeking, taking. He tasted so good, and the connection between them made her tremble and catch her breath.
He tried to pull away, and she
wouldn’t let him. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again with a greedy, crazy hunger that would never be satisfied with just one kiss. She kissed him until she was breathless and aching with need.
He eased away from her slowly, his eyes as dark as the room. She couldn’t guess what he was feeling but he was breathing hard, tension rolling off him.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Sleep in my bed while I’m gone. I want to know you’re right here.”
It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking. He was telling her what he wanted.
Damn, that was sexy.
And what she wanted herself, to be here in his bed, thinking about him. “I will,” she said meekly.
And then he was gone.
* * *
Chapter Fifteen
Mace
He hated leaving her. He’d never done the whole big, sad parting thing before, holding someone, desperate about letting go, terrified about what might happen to her while he was gone. Wanting things from her that she wasn’t ready to give him. Wondering if she’d miss him while he was gone.
Fuck, she might not even be here when he got back. He might have to hunt her down again. She could move back into that shitty apartment and Randy could do anything to her, and Mace wouldn’t be here to protect her.
She made it so damned hard to protect her.
What the hell was wrong with women like her? Was it really too much to ask? To be able to know she was safe?
He felt half crazy about being so far away when she might need him. She was too fucking stubborn to tell him she did. He’d arranged for three friends to check up on her, but she’d be mad when she figured that out.
The only thing keeping him half-way sane was knowing Amanda would be here. He could call her, and she would tell him anything she knew about how Dani was doing. He wasn’t sure Dani would even answer if he called too often or asked too many questions.
He’d been as careful as he could be with her, and he still managed to piss her off.
His friends were loving this. Mace, the guy who was always so easy-going about women, was tied up in knots over one.
He still had so much to tell her. About that day on the train. About Harold and the damned money. He still had to figure out why Aaron lied about marrying her.
