by Tawny Weber
And he couldn’t resist a challenge.
Like the one standing there dismissing him with that look of chilly indifference.
“Why?” he countered, his tone just as cold as hers. “Are you afraid to be seen with me?”
The pitying look in her eyes was a work of art.
“Why on earth would I be afraid of anything to do with you?”
“Maybe you’re worried gossip about the two of us will get back to good ole Russell.” He was forced to stop and swallow before he could get any more words past the bitterness in his throat. He had no right, he knew he had no right, to be angry that she’d hooked up with a mutual friend. But, dammit, he was. “Gossip that might mess up you achieving your ultimate goal.”
“Which would be what, exactly?”
Noah reached out to lift a strand of hair, rubbing the heavy silk between his fingers as he gave her a long look. He was close enough to see her pupils dilate and the pulse at her throat jump before she moved away so fast she almost stumbled.
He was man enough to admit he liked her reaction.
“A marriage proposal, of course.”
A SEAL’s Sacrifice: Chapter Three
What the hell was wrong with people?
Gwen wanted to scream.
She actually wanted to storm into that ballroom, stand on a table in the very middle of the room and scream at the top of her lungs. She’d even tug on her hair and stomp her feet if it’d make any difference.
Why did they all think she was getting married? Why did they even think she wanted to? She’d never once indicated that marriage was a goal of hers. The only time in her life that she’d even wondered it might be was when she and Noah were dating. And his dumping her for his career and a lame-ass vow had pretty neatly disabused her of that notion.
What was with New Year’s Eve?
First she’s bombarded by memories, none of which made her feel like kicking up her heels and celebrating. Then the biggest temptation of her life struts back through the door looking as sexy as sin and emotionally off-limits. Now she finds out—from multiple sources, no less—that her boss, a guy she’d always thought of as a friend, wanted to marry her?
Gwen felt like a champagne bottle, all shook up and ready to burst. And here she was in skyscraper heels. How could she keep from exploding if she couldn’t pace?
Since table dancing in these shoes was out, Gwen shoved both hands into her hair, tugging to try to relieve the pressure building inside her head.
“I’m not getting married,” she finally said, as much to get Noah to stop staring at her as out of a wish that saying the words out loud would stop the craziness.
“You turned him down?”
Was that pleasure in his voice? Gwen studied his face with narrowed eyes, but he was too good at hiding his feelings for her to tell.
“I’m pretty sure any right you had to ask personal questions ended, oh when was it? Three years ago?” she countered, hoping her voice didn’t shake. “So whatever I’m doing, whoever I’m seeing? Those are none of your business.”
“Hmm. Maybe.” He gave her one of those long, considering looks that made her feel as if he were staring into her soul, tapping into her deepest hopes and dreams. “But now I’m making it my business.”
Was this for real? Maybe she was really home having a nightmare brought on by her traditional New Year’s Eve binge on ice cream, wine and Sees chocolates.
But she knew better.
Because in her dreams, even the most painful ones, Noah never came back.
Which meant this was real. All of it. The delicious temptation standing there, just three feet away, was actually Noah in all his gorgeousness.
And in his own words—holy crap, had she really heard him right?—Noah was here to hit on her.
Panic gripped her belly, turning her knees to water and sending her heart into her toes.
If hitting on her was his goal for tonight, she had to stop him before he tried. Because despite the heartache and pain she’d gone through when he left, the man was a too good to resist.
Too good looking.
Too gorgeous naked.
Too good in bed.
And too good at persuading her to do things that she knew she shouldn’t.
Ready to do them without persuasion, desperate to stop her thoughts, Gwen grabbed the first distraction she could think of.
“Where did you hear Russell is going to propose?” she challenged, both because she wanted to know and because she really, really wanted to wipe that smug look off of Noah’s face. Why did he always have to look so damned good? Even while most of her wanted to shove him aside and storm out of his life the way he’d run out of hers, the rest of her wanted to lick the clothes right off that deliciously tempting body of his.
A fact he looked quite aware of as he leaned against the marble column and gave her that wickedly crooked smile of his.
“Let’s see, where did I hear?” he mused, tapping his fingers on his thigh. “I got it from Sam at Christmas who got it from Bryanna whose friend overheard Russell telling Eli when he was here on leave.”
Her lips moved as she silently worked through the twists of the gossip vine. When comprehension dawned in one fell swoop, like the famous New Year’s ball dropping, her mouth fell open.
“You’re here because you thought I was getting engaged,” she realized not tempering her smile as delight tangled with irritation at his highhandedness and shock that he’d even care.
“I’m home on leave for New Years,” he pointed out. “And this is my little brother’s engagement party.”
“Uh huh.” She wanted to giggle. One brow arched, Gwen crossed her arms under her breasts and angled her hip to one side, making sure her expression was just as cocky. “You came back because you’re jealous.”
“Of Russell?” Noah’s laugh was pure ego. “You’re kidding, right?”
Well, that took care of her giggling urges. It took all her willpower to keep her expression from dropping.
When Noah took a step toward her, close enough to touch, close enough to hold, she lifted her hand to stop him.
“No. Don’t touch me.”
“So you are afraid of people gossiping,” he accused in an angry tone they both knew he had no right to use.
But he didn’t touch her.
Instead, Noah paced.
He strode along the balcony railing one way. Then he strode back the other. Over and over, as if he couldn’t stand staying still.
“I’m not afraid of gossip, but I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”
Like her.
She really didn’t want to get the wrong idea herself.
“Like Russell?”
Gwen frowned at Noah. He really was jealous. She could tell. He didn’t like to be. She could tell that, too.
“Russell’s been here and you haven’t,” Gwen pointed out, not to stir that jealousy. But simply because it was true.
“And that’s what you’re looking to hook up with for the rest of your life? Someone who’s around?”
He snorted his disbelief but she could see the hint of concern in his eyes. But instead of bugging her that he thought he had any rights where she was concerned, this time it filled her with a giddily hopeful sort of delight.
It was as if her every dream—at least the clothed ones-from the last three years were coming true.
Noah was here, right here. Close enough to touch. Her fingers itched because, oh man, she really wanted to touch.
And he wanted her.
Her mind reeled with flashbacks of the many times and many ways he’d wanted her, pleasured her. Need tightened, low and hot in her belly.
Gwen’s heart tried to climb out of her toes and do a little happy dance but she squashed it back down.
He wasn’t here because he wanted to spend his life with her. He wasn’t even here to claim her as his own.
He was here to prove a point. Like a dog with a bone he’d buried away. He didn
’t actually want her for himself. He simply didn’t like the idea of someone else having her.
She wished the hurt she felt were strong enough to douse the hot desire.
“Why would you think it’s any of your business what I want in a man I’d spend my life with?” she asked before pointing out, “After all, it’s none of your business.”
“And if I want to make it my business?”
“Then I’d say it’s too late.”
Oh, that hurt. Gwen had to clench her hands into fists to keep from pressing them against the pain clenched tight in her belly.
“Are you trying to tell me that you’d rather have Russell than me?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amused and shocked as he stopped pacing to shoot her a sardonic look.
Gwen surreptitiously cupped her fingers around her opposite wrist. Yep, she still had a pulse. Which meant the answer to that was not only no, it was hell no.
But she wasn’t about to tell Noah that.
“How do I put this in sailor speak,” she mused instead, tapping a finger against her chin and pretending her insides weren’t shaking. “How about this. Three years ago I offered you a ride on the love boat and you walked away. Now you can live with the fact that this ship has sailed.”
“And if I said I was ready to commit?” he asked, his words as quiet as the night and just as intense. “What would you say then?”
“Are you?” she asked, her words breathless.
“Maybe.”
Three years ago she’d have begged to hear that one single word. Maybe. And knowing she wouldn’t, she’d offered to wait instead, without a commitment, without any promises. But Noah, so mired in his belief that a SEAL couldn’t be anything but, had told her to get on with her life.
So she’d got on with it.
She didn’t have any illusions about forgetting the pain of Noah’s rejection, but after years of trying she’d finally patched over it.
But if she gave in to the passion heating her belly, the same passion she saw in his eyes, she’d be ripping away that patch, leaving herself bare to the misery.
She couldn’t risk it.
Even as her body practically whimpered its protest, she stiffened her shoulders and her resolve.
“I’d say that you had your chance and you walked away. Now you can watch me do the same.”
With that, despite the miserable pain in her heart, Gwen turned on one heel and forced herself to march through the double doors. Unable to leave without explaining her departure to Russell, but unwilling to face anyone, she hurried toward a side-corridor and the haven of temporary peace it offered.
Traditions were followed for a reason.
Obviously, breaking them was bad luck. Which made it clear that she should have followed her New Year’s Eve tradition and stayed at home.
She’d be blissfully sick on an ice cream overdose right now, laughing sympathetically as Ross insisted to Rachel that they were on a break. She’d be oblivious to Noah’s return, and probably wouldn’t even find out he’d been back until he was long gone again.
Far away, out of temptation’s reach where he couldn’t stir up these dormant wants and desperate needs. Where he wouldn’t remind her of what it felt to live with an open heart, high hopes and impossible dreams.
She was halfway down the hall when Noah grabbed her arm. Her stomach jumped into her throat, knotting there so she could barely breathe.
His fingers were hot on her skin as he spun her around, his body pinning her against the cool marble wall.
Her legs went weak as she caught the look in his eyes. Her nerves didn’t stand a chance against the hot passion in those hazel depths.
With one hand on either side of her head, Noah leaned in.
“The least I can do before you marry another man is remind you of what you’ll be missing.”
She wanted to hiss and spit at his arrogance.
She wanted to roll her eyes and shove him away.
She really wanted to feel nothing, to have no reaction at all.
But she couldn’t do any of those things.
All she could do was watch as he lowered his head.
Feel as his mouth closed over hers.
Hot, intense and desperate, his lips slid over hers in big hungry bites before he nipped at her bottom lip. Gwen gasped as need, sharp and painful, gripped her. As if he’d been waiting for just that, his tongue plunged.
Her body melted. Her mouth opened, tongue tangling with his as she gave herself over to sensations pounding through her.
“I gave you one last ride before I walked,” he reminded her in a rough voice between kisses. “Aren’t you going to give me the same?”
She knew she should shove him away. She should call him out, cuss him out and then shove him away.
Instead, her fingers gripped his shoulders, clenching tight before she pressed her palms down the hard muscles of his chest. Oh, baby, what a body he had. It’d been amazing at twenty-three. Cut and strong. But now? Now it was freaking unbelievable.
Her mind screamed warnings that her body ignored.
She’d wanted Noah since she was seventeen. She’d dreamed about him, fantasized over him, reveled in him and craved him.
Then she’d done without him.
If this was it, her only chance for the rest of her life?
Then by damn, she was going to have all of him.
A SEAL’s Sacrifice: Chapter Four
Holy hell, he hadn’t thought daring Gwen would work.
At best, he’d figured it would goad her into losing her temper, telling him what she intended to do about Russell. Noah hadn’t actually planned for them to take that ride until after the party when he’d talked his way into her place.
But now that she was in his arms? Now that she’d answered his challenge to take a ride?
Now he couldn’t resist seeing how far they got.
She tasted so good.
She felt even better.
Noah had spent the last three years telling himself Gwen wasn’t as delicious as he remembered, pretending that his cravings for her were all in his imagination.
But now that he tasted her again?
Now that her flavor coated his tongue?
He knew better.
Need pounded through him, desperate and edgy as he sipped at her lips. His tongue dipped into the welcoming warmth of her mouth, testing. Tasting. Wanting.
She felt so good.
His hands curved over her waist, skimming along the sweet flare of her hips before sliding down to cup the sexy slope of her butt cheeks.
Her body fit perfectly against his, her breasts pressed to his chest, their fullness pure temptation.
Oh yeah. She tasted good.
And she felt even better.
Noah’s fingers squeezed her butt again as he reveled in the fullness before he angled his hands up to slide between their bodies. He pressed upward until he could cup one full, tempting breast. Warm and lush, it filled his palm to overflowing.
How many nights had he woken in a sweat, hard and horny because he’d been dreaming about these breasts? So many that he’d lost count over the years.
His fingers scraped along the edge of deep vee of her dress, the sequins a cool contrast to the hot silk of her skin.
He dipped his finger a little lower, his nail scraping over the delightfully pebbled tip of her breast. The feel of her gasp in his mouth was as exciting as the feel of her nipple under his knuckle.
Gwen’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her body pressing into his as if she were sinking into him. Like he wanted to sink into her. Rock hard, his dick throbbed in time with their dueling tongues.
Noah tried to reel himself back.
He’d only intended to remind her of what they’d had. To prove to her—and yes, to himself—that the flame hadn’t gone out between them.
But now that he’d tasted her again, he couldn’t stop. Like an addict falling off the wagon after years of abstinence, he needed to binge. Th
e need was so desperate, the want so intense, that he knew he’d give anything, do anything, to have his fix.
His tongue plunged deeper, his knuckle sweeping back then forth over the pebbled delight of her nipple.
She moaned, light and soft against his mouth.
She was so damned responsive, so freaking hot. Her body was a work of art. One he wanted to strip down and worship.
Now.
Tight with need, desperate for more, he skimmed his fingers over her dress to scope out hooks and zippers.
He wanted it gone.
He wanted her naked.
He had to see her.
It was Gwen’s trembling that pulled him back from the edge.
Holy crap.
They were in a hallway.
A hallway that was the only thing separating them from the view of two hundred pairs of curious eyes.
He didn’t want her marrying someone else, not even Russell. But blindsiding her with seduction in a semi-public hallway where they could be seen wasn’t fair.
He told himself that he should let her go.
That little voice in his head warned him to put a little distance between them—at least ten inches. Then he could charm her into waiting here in the hall, chatting a little, while he got his body under control. Then he’d sit her down and have a civilized, fully-dressed conversation.
He didn’t know what he’d say, but he was sure he could talk her into at least sitting down and talking with him before she did something crazy like commit to another man.
Then she sucked his tongue into her mouth.
And Noah lost it.
His train of thought.
His intentions.
His control.
He lost them all.
He grabbed her with one hand, the other blindly reaching for the nearby doorknob. Wrenching the door open, he pulled her into privacy.
Privacy turned out to be a dimly lit coat closet. Given that it was a swank hotel, the closet was pretty good sized. Not big enough to get horizontal, but definitely roomy enough for some vertical action.
Noah took two seconds to recon, yanked the door closed, then angled Gwen against the cozy wall of coats.
Her face was a shadow but he easily found her mouth with his. Their tongues tangled, hot and wild. Her hands raced over his body, shoving his jacket off his shoulders. Noah reluctantly released her to let the heavy fabric slide off his arms. As soon they were free, his hands dove into her hair, slipping through the heavy silk before skimming down her body.
