Wanted: Wife 4 Navy Seals: A Military romance

by Dee Palmer

  “Please don’t tell me you are a student?” He seems friendly enough even if I don’t understand his question.

  “Sorry?” I didn’t bring the email invitation but I know I was invited; Mr. Wilson invited me. I will die on the spot if I have to be escorted from the building for gate-crashing. Seeing the obvious look of worry flash across my face, he quickly adds, “It’s just that as a member of staff, there are rules.” His lips curl in a knowing smirk. “And I’m afraid looking at you, I would be sorely tempted to break those rules.” Oh, he’s smooth. I was right about the charm, but then again, I’m sure he is right about the rules.

  “Ha, that’s funny.” I smile and laugh. “Yes, I’m one of Mr. Wilson’s mature students, Bethany Thorne.” I offer my hand.

  “Christopher Taylor, finance and accounting. Call me Chris, and it’s lucky-” I don’t get to learn what is lucky exactly.

  “Lucky for me, that I am not a member of staff. Good evening, Miss Thorne.” Daniel interrupts, as he steps to my side, his arm and thigh brushing mine, and I can feel an instant heat where we touch. He whispers, but loud enough for Christopher to hear, “Not that the rules would concern me.” His warm breath heats my neck, and the sudden, and now familiar, prickles spread across my skin. I take a sharp breath and I feel my face glow. I take a step away and toward Christopher, my heart is thumping wildly. I expected him to show up at some point, he mentioned he would, but I didn’t expect this degree of invasion of my personal space and in such a public arena.

  “Mr. Stone, it’s nice to see you again.” I straighten my back and lift my chin, conveying a calm and strength I do not feel. He grins, and his dark blue eyes dissolve into inky pools of desire. His lids are heavy, and he steps once more to close the distance.

  “Nice? You hurt my feelings, I believe our recent meetings have been more than nice?” I glance a quick and panicked look at Christopher, who is frowning at this last comment. I can’t believe he is going to do this here. I’m fuming, obviously flustered and off the charts aroused with him so damn close, but mostly fuming.

  “Nice, yes! The lecture you gave was extremely useful, and it was nice to meet you.” I hope that has clarified my meaning, but I add just in case, “When Mr. Wilson introduced us at the ‘meet and greet’ the other week.” I look again to Christopher as I add a context to the meeting, “It was….nice to meet you then.” My throat is dry, and I take a large sip of my wine.

  “What about Mr. Wilson’s office, was that nice?” He chuckles. He is such an arse.

  I ignore his last comment. “It was really lovely to meet you, Christopher. Maybe we could check out those rules another time?” His face flashes with shock, followed by a huge smile. I can’t believe I just said that. Since when did I start flirting? I don’t flirt, but looking at Daniel as he scowls and grinds his jaw, I think I know exactly why I chose this time to start. “I have just seen Mr. Wilson. If you would excuse me gentlemen, Daniel.” I add pointedly and hope he picks up on the deliberate differentiation as I turn and walk away. I don’t quite make it to Mr. Wilson, and thankfully he doesn’t see me, as Daniel grabs my elbow and guides me through a nearby door into a vacant vestibule.

  “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” He growls low, his face close to mine, his breath fresh, and his scent warm and intoxicating. Luckily I’m still fuming.

  “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” I return his heated glaze. He laughs lightly.

  “Not very polite, Miss Thorne.” He draws in a deliberate, steadying breath. “You know you react to me. Your body glows, the hairs on your neck spike when I’m near, your skin prickles, you tremble under my fingers and your smell.” He takes another tortuously slow, deep, and sensual breath. “Oh, Miss Thorne, you intoxicate me.” Interesting choice of words, I believe I had the same thought not a second before. “Why do you deny this? Why do you run from us?” He pushes his strong, hard frame into mine, his hand on the small of my back exerting enough pressure to bend my body into his body, enough to make me soft and pliant.

  “It’s not rocket science. Of course I’m affected by you, look at you!” I push against his immovable chest, my fingers just touching the ripped definition of the muscle beneath his shirt. “Oh, Christ,” I let out an exasperated breath. “Look, this,” I wave my hands between us and around indicating our surroundings. “This isn’t a game for me, I can’t afford to lose this. I won’t risk this.” I pause, gathering another steadying breath. “So I will ‘deny this’.” I pull on his narrow hips and hold myself tight against him, just to emphasize I know exactly what I’m denying. A deep groan escapes the back of his throat, and I shake my head softly. I push against him this time, and he actually steps back.

  “Self-preservation, Mr. Stone, you need to find someone else to play with.” I easily match the intensity and desire of his gaze before I turn away. I hate the feeling of sickness in my stomach, of losing this intense heat between us, and I abhor the heavy ache in my chest the further away I walk. I am starting to understand this is exactly the reason I have to walk away. I would never survive Daniel Stone.

  I can’t bring myself to mingle now, but manners dictate I at least thank Mr. Wilson for the invitation. I finish my wine and grab another glass as I approach a small group of people, which includes Mr. Wilson.

  “Ah, Bethany, so glad you could join us.” He smiles and leans in to kiss my cheeks. I guess this is more a social gathering than a formal occasion.

  “It was very kind of you to invite me.” I smile as he introduces me to his colleagues. Three other department heads, two fellow students, and Christopher Taylor.

  “We met earlier, only too briefly, though.” He remains effortlessly charming. “Perhaps you’ve come to make amends now, and let’s hope you won’t get frightened off this time.” He continues to hold my hand in a slow handshake despite having already met.

  “Funny again, Mr. Taylor.” I laugh lightly, but he has a cheeky grin this time.

  “I don’t think Bethany would scare too easily, maybe on a Ghost Train, eh?” Mr. Wilson chuckles and comes to my defense, bless him.

  “Never go near them, I find life is scary enough.” I add quietly. “Actually, I have to leave, but I did want to thank you again for the invite.”

  “Oh, not me, my dear.” He looks a little embarrassed. “Mr. Stone selected you, did you see him yet? You must thank him.” He looks around trying to spot my sponsor. Oh, I can’t catch a break. I get the strength to push him away, and, wham, I have to go over and thank him, with an audience this time.

  “There he is!” Mr. Wilson waves to Daniel, who causes the sea of people to part before him as he strides toward us.

  “Cold, Miss Thorne?” His mouth curls to one side trying to contain his grin. I look down to the offending articles; my nipples puckered to hard tips pointing directly at him. Ground, swallow me now! My face flames, and before I can stutter a response, he continues.

  “You have goose bumps all up your arms, so I just wondered if you were cold?” I can see his fingers twitch. I think, maybe, he is trying to control his urge to stroke the bumps along my arm, and I am definitely trying not to imagine his touch.

  “I’m fine; a little warm actually.” I cough to clear my throat. “Mr. Wilson just informed me I should thank you for tonight’s invitation?” I look back to Mr. Wilson for confirmation. He nods.

  “A random selection, I assure you.” He is quick to confirm, “But I will happily take the credit.” He takes my offered hand, his palm soft against my skin, his grip firm and secure.

  “Well, I’m grateful, nonetheless, so thank you.” I attempt to pull my hand free, and he holds firm for a moment more, before allowing me to move away. I quickly wish everyone a good evening and start to leave.

  “It’s not necessary, but I’ll show you out.” Christopher steps in front of Daniel and places his hand on my waist, escorting me to the cloakroom. I have to physically fight the urge to glance back at Daniel. Is he looking my way? Does he notice w
here Christopher’s hand is resting? Does he care, and, more importantly, why do I care? I see Sofia’s head peek around a column down the corridor, and I couldn’t be happier to see her.

  “Hope to see you again, Bethany.” Christopher smiles. “I’m going to be checking those rules, you know.”

  “Funny again, you’re on a roll tonight!” I laugh and start jogging toward Sofia.

  I’m scrabbling in the bag Sofia handed to me trying to find the ‘Relax’ T-shirt or even the “Wake Me Up, Before You Go-Go” T-shirt. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Sofs!” I pull out what can only be described as a dress, which would fit Barbie, it’s that small, but Barbie is obviously in mourning. “Do you want to explain this to me?” I dangle the offending article in front of her mischievous face.

  “Marco had a change of plan, he’s doing Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love”, instead of Wham’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go”, and we are the super-hot honeys at the back. I’ve got plastic guitars and everything.” She is doing excited little bunny hops.

  “Sofs, this is so short you can see what I have for breakfast!” I cry. It’s my own fault. I should’ve run when I noticed her suspicious grin and her trench coat hiding her own indecent outfit.

  “You’ve got the legs, and I brought the heels. You’ll probably have to go commando though unless you’ve got a thong on?”

  I’m going to hyperventilate. “Yes, that is just what I was thinking, because what I’m really worried about now is this look being ruined by VPL!” I am hoping she can hear the real panic in my voice.

  “Relax, Bets, it’s for charity.” I can hear her holding back a fit of giggles, “And besides two broken nights’ sleep? Marco said you owe him. That, and I didn’t bring an alternate costume. Put it on, then come out here, so I can fix your hair and make-up.” Her tone is no nonsense and resolute. I resign myself to an evening of pure hell.

  I wrap my cardigan tightly around what there is of the long sleeved, scoop-necked, short, short lycra dress. I declined the stockings and took the heels. Sofia scraped my hair slick and painted my face with dark smouldering eyes and fire engine red glossed lips. I don’t recognise myself in the mirror and I am hoping no one else does either. We leave the ladies and make our way out across the Quad avoiding the cobbles.

  “I’m not walking. We’re getting a taxi from here. I don’t care how long it takes. or how much you have to pay for it.” I grouchily inform my friend, but we wait for ten minutes and still no luck. A very sleek Bentley limousine pulls up slowly and stops in front of us. “You know whoever is in there thinks we’re hookers, right?” I accuse Sofia.

  “Yes, but we’re expensive-looking hookers.” She laughs and squeezes my arm. The driver has come around to our side and opens the door. I feel him before I see him, but drop my eyes, praying for an invisibility cloak in place of my cardigan. Daniel goes to get into the car. He looks up and stops.

  “Bethany?” His wide eyes and sharp voiced question reinforce his utter surprise.

  Oh, crap! “Daniel.” I flash a tight smile but manage to hold my chin high and meet his astonished gaze.

  “You look…” He bites his bottom lip. “Ah, yes, fancy dress.” He smiles as he remembers the details from last night.

  “Well, I’m not working late if that’s what you think!” I laugh nervously. He raises his brow but smiles.

  “Well, ladies, allow me to take you to your destination. After all, it’s the least I can do, I believe you said it was for charity?” He moves to the side to allow us to get in. I hesitate, but it’s too late, Sofia already has her head in the vehicle. I sigh and follow with a weak smile.

  “Nice ride you have here, Mr. Stone.” Sofia seductively strokes the soft leather. She’s incorrigible.

  “It gets me from A to B, and, please, call me Daniel.” I smile as he repeats my sentiment about cars. We head out toward the Kings Road after giving Daniel’s driver the address. Sofia chats, and Daniel politely fields her questions, but his eyes burn through me, igniting a fire in my core that I am struggling to contain. Each time, a little more of my resistance falls away, and I forget one more reason why I shouldn’t embrace this scorching need I know he can fulfill. We reach our destination, and just as I go to thank Daniel, Sofia speaks first.

  “Daniel, why don’t you come in for a bit, check out my Bets’ talent onstage?” She nudges me as my head whips round with pure shock and outrage. “You could come as the diet coke man?” She starts to giggle as I try and manhandle her out of the car.

  “She didn’t mean it, sorry. Thank you for the lift.” Daniel is standing on the pavement towering above me.

  “Didn’t mean I could come or didn’t mean I could come as the diet coke man?” His lips curl with barely contained amusement.

  “Oh I’m pretty sure there’s no contest between you and the diet coke man.” I note, but not giving him the opportunity to follow, I turn and add. “Thank you again for the lift.” Grabbing Sofia, who is still giggling, I lead her into the club.

  “You’re fired!” I turn to face her “Officially NOT my best friend anymore!” I huff indignantly and turn to take in the bar. It is colourful and crowded, loud and luminous. Someone has gone all out on the décor; fluorescent lighting, film posters from the decade and even some impressive sculptures of iconic 80’s memorabilia. There is a large suspended Rubics’ cube hanging beside the mirrored disco ball and a three-foot free standing 3-D Arctic Roll dessert complete with packaging, which is doubling as a table in the center of the room. The ‘acts’ for the evening have already started and two identical Michael Jackson’s perform a polished routine to “Billy Jean” on stage. This is beginning to feel a lot like a competition. We make our way to the bar and some familiar faces. Sofia gets the first round, handing me two shot glasses. I raise my brow.

  “You need this, trust me.” She nods toward the door.

  “I know he’s there I can feel him.” I close my eyes for a second and just absorb the sensations that have become so familiar so quickly, and that my body now seems to crave.

  “Bets, can you not tell how fucking sexy that is! Stop fighting the fun, listen to your body for once. Look, if you enjoy what he does to your body, and, no, don’t interrupt, if you enjoy it and you obviously do, just let it happen. What’s the worst that can happen?” She shakes my shoulders and maybe some debatable sense into me.

  “Famous last words, Sofs.” I down the first shot and wince as the burn rips down my throat. “Look I’m going to try one last thing to end this, then… well, then I’ve got nothing left, no more resistance.” I give a little shrug and tip the second tequila back. I give an exaggerated shiver. Marco makes his way over with a sheepish grin, I can’t be angry at him, especially with the warm, slightly dizzy feeling I’m getting from the shots.

  “Hey, Bets, looking good!” He winks, he’s being brave, and I narrow my eyes.

  “Your sister’s fired and you may well be next, mister!” I poke him in the chest. He is looking nothing like Robert Palmer, but his hair is slick and his suit is sharp so he’ll pass. I feel the wave of heat at my back and I know I have company. I lean into Marco,

  “You’ll be off the hook if you play along.” I whisper and turn, just catching the confusion on his face.

  “Daniel, you decided to join us, that’s nice.” I pause to take in his dark eyes, and I lift my chin. “Let me introduce my boyfriend, Marco.” I look toward Marco’s face and hear Sofia choke on her drink--thanks for having my back guys! “Marco, this is Daniel Stone. He is a guest lecturer at my University.”

  “Boyfriend, Miss Thorne?” He shakes Marco’s hand, but doesn’t take his eyes from me. “Your recent behaviour would lead me to think you might be lying.” I can see the glint in his eyes that he knows I am, but the muscle at his jaw is ticking with tension from something.

  “Today, we became official today. All very star crossed, very sudden, very passionate.” I purr and awkwardly lean into Marco, who is transfixed at my performance.r />
  “Really?” His response is deep and slow. “Are you insulting my intelligence, Miss Thorne, because I would consider that to be extremely impolite?” He narrows his eyes, and I take it as a challenge. I turn, thrust my hands into Marcos hair and fix my mouth to his in what has to be the least passionate kiss in history. I hear Daniel growl, and I break the kiss, turning to see his fierce eyes and clenched jaw. He takes my hand and pulls me away from Marco. “Enough, Bethany!” His voice is firm, and it makes me stop. “There is no way Marco is your boyfriend. He is a friend, yes, but he looks like he has just been French kissed by his sister!” His tone is quietly serious. “I would challenge you, Bethany, that it isn’t nice to use your friends in such a way.” I blush and feel completely reprimanded. He is right. “Not that I think he minds, but the girl he was dry humping when you first arrived certainly seems to.” I look over to where Daniel indicates with his eyes and see the death stare from a petite blonde dressed as SuperGirl. I’m mortified.

  “Marco, I’m so sorry, you know I didn’t mean-” He hugs me tight pulling me away from Daniel.

  “Don’t think about it, really don’t, I’ll always have your back.” Marco interrupts my apology with the best of hugs, the kind that warm the soul. “Hey, Man.” He addresses Daniel. “She has her reasons. You should respect that and back off.” He smiles at me and starts to walk away. “You need me, I’m there, Bets.” Only he is not looking at me when he speaks. This display of Alpha maleness makes me tremble, and I think I am going to be sick, but I won’t let that play out. I turn to diffuse the tension.

  “Daniel, I am sorry, really it’s just that …” I’m lost for words

  “Bethany.” He leans in, and I am engulfed in his smell and the sparks that fire between us. “Tell me, what is it about me that makes you think I am not a man, who gets exactly what he wants, when he wants it?” The rawness in his voice has me panting. He steps into me, and I can feel his erection press hard against me. I lick my lips remembering the taste of him. His lids are heavy, and I think he is thinking the same thing.