The Socialite and the SEAL

by Jenna Bennett

  “What do you mean?” Since she wasn’t showing any signs of wanting to move, JB settled more comfortably on the bed, and shifted her until she was resting against his chest. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

  “My life before the Mediterranean seems pretty stupid to me now. The movie premieres and the trips to the Riviera and the cocktail parties. The handsome guys with money. Kareem.”

  She shifted, and her bottom rubbed against his zipper. Good thing he was fully dressed, since she certainly wasn’t. JB had tried hard not to focus on the fact that she was wearing very little—just a skimpy nightgown that would probably be see-through if the light was on—but it was getting harder and harder—no pun intended—now that she wasn’t crying anymore.

  “He’s gone,” JB reminded her. “He won’t ever bother you again.”

  She shook her head. “But there are plenty of other Kareems out there. Handsome guys with money. And I don’t know that I can ever trust one of them again.”

  “You will. Someday, someone will come along that you can trust.”

  “I trust you,” Tansy said. She put her head on his shoulder.

  JB swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m glad.”

  They sat in silence a minute or two. He was just starting to think that maybe she’d fallen asleep when she said his name.

  “Yeah?”

  She swallowed. “Will you make love to me?”

  For a second, JB couldn’t get his voice to cooperate. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a squeak, like a boy going through puberty. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Now?”

  She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his shirt. “I thought, maybe, if you made love to me, I could think about that, and not... the other thing.”

  “No,” JB said hoarsely.

  He didn’t have to look at her to know he’d hurt her. He could feel it. She pulled into herself, became smaller. Like she was trying to hide. Like she thought he didn’t want her.

  “It isn’t you.”

  She didn’t say anything, and he added, “It isn’t that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t.”

  At least she didn’t snort in disbelief. “Why can’t you?” Her voice was soft, not much more than a whisper.

  “I’m under your father’s roof. He trusts me to protect you. It would be wrong.”

  He didn’t know whether she understood, so he continued. “We have something called conduct unbecoming. I’m here on loan from Uncle Sam. If I were to take advantage of you, especially right now when you’re vulnerable, I would dishonor both myself and the Navy. And you.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And the bravest. And if we’d met somewhere else, sometime else, I’d do everything I could to talk you into bed.” At least until he learned that she was worth millions and couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like him. Not beyond that initial roll in the hay. “But it can’t be now. Not tonight. Not while it’s my job to make sure nothing happens to you.”

  Tansy nodded. He had no idea whether she believed him or not, but she didn’t push, or ask any more questions. Instead she settled into his arms. “Can you stay with me?”

  “As long as you want,” JB told her. Eventually he’d have to get up and make his next round through the house, but right now, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He leaned back against the headboard and held her, with his cheek against her hair and her small dog curled up against his ankle.

  10

  When Tansy woke up, she was alone except for Mimi. And for a second, she wasn’t sure whether the memory of propositioning John—and him turning her down—had been a memory or just a fantasy.

  But no—she turned her face into the pillow and inhaled—it smelled of him. He’d been here. He’d rescued her from her dreams, and had talked to her about her fears. He hadn’t judged her for not being OK, for not simply ‘getting over it.’

  He thought she was brave. And beautiful. And if he hadn’t been here to protect her, he would have made love to her last night.

  When was the last time anyone had been too honorable to have sex with her? The last time anyone had sidelined his own (very obvious) desire because it was the right thing to do?

  Never?

  All they had to do, was figure out who was coming to kill her, and stop that person before anything could happen. And then they could make love all night long.

  She spent a minute thinking about it, smiling.

  Until she remembered that when they’d found the bad guy, John would have to leave. He’d made that clear. He belonged to Uncle Sam, and Uncle Sam would want him back when his job here was done.

  So maybe she could go to Virginia instead.

  Tansy flopped over on her back and stared up at the ceiling, past where the filmy draperies on her bed criss-crossed.

  Would he want her to?

  He might, she decided. He had invited her to Little Creek once. And he’d sat with her in his arms, comforting her while she cried, and then holding her until she fell asleep. That couldn’t be just because it was his job.

  She could find something to do in Little Creek. It wasn’t so important what it was. Because when she was finished doing it, John would come home. And they’d be together.

  John was somewhere nearby right now. So what was she doing, lying in bed thinking about him, when she could get up and actually see him?

  She swung her legs over the edge and bounced to the bathroom, giving Mimi a pat on the head on her way past. Mimi grumbled.

  “You have a grooming appointment today,” Tansy told the little dog when she came out, dressed and brushed and polished, ready for the day. For John. “You’re going to see Sylvia.”

  Mimi loved Sylvia the groomer, who pampered her and fed her morsels of doggie gourmet snacks while trimming Mimi’s fur and nails, and painting them in pretty colors.

  Maybe John would go with her. They could escape the estate for a bit, and get away from the other SEALs and Mick’s security crew and everything that was going on. Maybe have a nice lunch in a pretty restaurant, just the two of them.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t like that. Yesterday he’d told her he’d rather have sandwiches in the kitchen with his friends than dinner with her and her father in the dining room. Maybe they could just find a hot dog stand instead, somewhere he’d be comfortable and no one would recognize her, and eat on a park bench. It didn’t matter, after all. As long as she was with him.

  * * *

  She found him downstairs in the kitchen, eating one of yesterday’s sandwiches. When she walked in, he stood up, and she waved him back onto the stool.

  “We can provide proper breakfast food, you know.” She leaned on the island and watched him chew, wondering how she’d ever though he wasn’t handsome. He had that thick, black hair she wanted to run her fingers through, and beautiful, dark blue eyes surrounded by long, dark lashes, and that dimple in his cheek when he smiled. And that smile...

  Tansy smiled back, helplessly. Oh yeah. Definitely falling.

  All the way down.

  “It’s all right.” His voice gave her a tingle in her stomach, even when he was talking about sandwiches. “You don’t throw away food. Especially not food like this. And I’ve definitely eaten worse. Sometime I’ll introduce you to the MREs we eat when we’re on assignment.”

  “MREs?”

  “Meals, Ready to Eat.” He swallowed. “They give them to soldiers on missions. They’re these green packets of baby food, pretty much. Or very, very mushy stew. You squirt them into your mouth.”

  Tansy wrinkled her nose. “Sounds horrible.”

  “You get used to it. And like I said, I’ve eaten worse.”

  He took another bite of day-old sandwich.

  “Squirrel stew?” Tansy guessed, remembering their conversation from yesterday.

  “Or opossum. Besides, some of the stuff they eat in other parts of the world will make your hair stand up straight.” He g
rinned at her. “I had roasted guinea pig just last week.”

  “Ewww. Guinea pig? Like the pet?”

  “Like I said,” John said. “In other parts of the world, they eat other things.”

  “Where in the world do they eat guinea pig?”

  “I’d tell you, but...”

  “You’d have to kill me. I get it.” She sat down and reached for a day-old sandwich, too. If he could eat it, she could eat it. And maybe show him that she wasn’t the spoiled heiress he no doubt thought.

  He didn’t say anything, although his brows arched when she took a bite. Tansy chewed. The bread was a little drier than when the sandwich had been freshly made, and the lettuce a little wilted, but otherwise, not too bad. She couldn’t offhand remember when she’d eaten worse, but on a scale of one to ten, the day-old sandwich was a solid five or six. Compared to the MREs he’d described, it was downright gourmet.

  They were chewing in companionable silence when the door opened and Max came in. Like John, he was dressed in the same tan T-shirt and cargo pants as yesterday. She wondered whether they traveled with an unlimited supply of tan T-shirts and cargo pants and just always wore the same look, or whether these were actually the same clothes as yesterday.

  But no. John had gotten blood on his T-shirt yesterday, from being shot at when he was climbing her wall. The T-shirt he had on now was clean, so Max had probably changed, too. Just into the same basic uniform as yesterday.

  “News,” he said as he took in the tray on the island. “Sandwiches. Good.”

  “They’re yesterday’s,” Tansy felt compelled to tell him, even as she was halfway through a sandwich of her own.

  He looked at her for a second, brows arched, before looking at John. John shrugged. Max reached for a sandwich. “I’m sure I’ve eaten worse.”

  “John was just telling me about MREs,” Tansy said. “I’d like to try one sometime.”

  “I’m sure I can dig one up for you. Just make sure I get to watch. In the meantime,” he bit off half the sandwich in one bite, chewed, swallowed, and continued as if there hadn’t been a pause, “I have news. We heard from Texas.”

  John glanced at Tansy. She glanced back.

  “James Cooper’s alive and well,” Max said.

  “In Texas?”

  Max nodded. “Turns out he checked himself into rehab. He finally saw the light and realized that his grief over his dead son was making him lose his other children, too. So he got some counseling and help to dry out, and he’s back home.”

  “Not here.”

  Max shook his head. “Nowhere near here. Back home in Dallas. He’s no threat. He’s busy working things out with his family.”

  That was one less thing to worry about, then. Although truth be told, Tansy had been less worried about James Cooper than about Kareem’s father and the SSG trained killer he had sent after her.

  John’s thoughts must be going in a similar direction. “Anything new on el Saud?”

  Max shook his head. “Nothing yet. He still hasn’t shown his face in Saudi Arabia.”

  So as the computer SEAL had pointed out yesterday, Mohammed el Saud could be in bed sick, he could be dead, or he could be hiding in the woods by the bridle path ready to put a bullet between Tansy’s eyes in retaliation for Kareem.

  “Mimi has to go to the groomer,” she told John.

  He and Max exchanged a look. “You can’t postpone that?”

  She could, but... “Mimi really likes Sylvia. And she’s looking kind of ratty.”

  Both men looked at the small dog, their brows arched.

  “Sylvia’s so popular that if I cancel this appointment, I won’t get another one for six months. Everyone takes their dogs to her. She’s, like, the Main Line Dog Whisperer.”

  Max’s lips twitched. John glanced at him. “I don’t suppose it can hurt. Might not be a bad idea to get her away from here for the day. She had to be locked in the bedroom for a while yesterday because of all of us. Must be tough to be a guard dog with all these strangers around.”

  Max shrugged. “Figure out a way to get her there. But don’t send one of our guys.”

  “John and I can go,” Tansy said, trying to convey with her eyes her plan for getting away from the estate and maybe having a romantic lunch together somewhere while they waited for Mimi to be done with her spa day.

  Max shook his head. “Sorry, sweetheart. No trips offsite for you until we’ve caught this bastard.”

  Tansy couldn’t believe it. “But if John’s with me...”

  “You’re safer here,” John told her, “with all of us.”

  “But you can protect me!”

  “He’ll protect you,” Max said, “but you’re still safer here, where we have a guy on the gate in the front, and a guy on the gate in the back, and a couple of other guys just walking around the perimeter of the property with guns.”

  Tansy opened her mouth to argue, realized that she sounded like a spoiled brat—they were here to protect her, putting their lives in danger to keep her safe, and she was complaining about them doing their jobs—and shut it again. “OK.”

  “Thank you,” John said.

  “What about Mimi, though?”

  “We’ll get her there.” He grinned. “Maybe Conrad can take her. If you ask him. Nicely.”

  Tansy tossed her head and opened her mouth. And shut it again. Conrad was an employee. He’d take Mimi wherever she wanted, and she didn’t have to ask him nicely. She could just tell him to do it, and he would. But if she was trying to behave like a normal person, it was better not to mention that. “OK.”

  “I’d pay to watch,” Max commented, “but I gotta go. Conference call with Commander Baker in five minutes.”

  He strolled toward the door, and then stopped. “Conrad’s on the front gate again this morning. If you send him somewhere with the dog, get Gus up front. He spent most of the night walking around. He’d probably appreciate a couple hours off his feet.”

  John nodded. Max disappeared out of the kitchen and Tansy turned to Mimi. “Car ride, baby. Let’s go.”

  Mimi bounced over, all fur and bright eyes. Tansy got to her feet, and John followed. “You don’t have to...” she began.

  He shook his head. “If you’re going, I’m going.”

  “I’m only going down to the gate. Like Max said, there are Navy SEALs crawling all over the estate. And it’s not like Conrad’s a threat.”

  John muttered something.

  “What?” Tansy said.

  “Nothing.”

  “Is this about his face again?”

  He shrugged.

  “I like yours better, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  For a second, it seemed like she’d turned him speechless. He just sat there, staring at her. Until eventually one corner of his mouth turned up in that little smile that made her stomach swoop. “I like yours, too.”

  “Good,” Tansy said, feeling giddy.

  For another second, they just sat there, smiling at one another. Then John lifted his hand to touch the butterfly Band Aids decorating his cheek. “This’ll probably turn into another scar.”

  “I don’t care.” He could have as many scars as he wanted. And he’d incurred this one while protecting her. That made it special.

  “After this is over—” John said, and then seemed to think better of it. He shook his head and got to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s go. Get Mimi on her way.”

  Tansy stood up, too. “After this is over?”

  He smiled. “Safer not to make plans like that when you’re in the middle of an op. Just in case you don’t come out the other end in one piece.”

  Tansy nodded. And resolved to do whatever she had to, to make sure they both got out the other end in one piece, so she could see what John had in mind for after this was over. And whether it matched her own plans.

  * * *

  Conrad looked just as gleamingly handsome today as yesterday. He clearly hadn’t spent half the night patrolling. No
, Conrad looked like he’d gotten to bed a decent hour and had gotten his eight hours of uninterrupted beauty sleep. His hair was freshly washed and lay in burnished waves across his perfect head. His shirt collar was starched and the color matched the pristine white of his eyes as well as his perfect teeth. There were no butterfly Band Aids on Conrad’s cheek.

  The smile slipped a little when Tansy explained their errand, though. And JB was thrilled to see it.

  At first, when Tansy showed up outside the guardhouse to say that Mimi needed to go to the groomer, Conrad was all helpfulness. “Sure. Just let me get someone to cover the gate and I’ll take you.”

  “Gus is on his way,” JB told him, since he’d already called Gus and explained the situation.

  Conrad gave him a look.

  “And,” JB nodded. “we’re not going. Just the dog.”

  Conrad turned to Tansy. “You want me to take your dog to the groomer? By myself?”

  “Someone has to,” Tansy said. “And she likes you.”

  JB wasn’t so sure about that. Mimi liked the little treats Conrad kept in his pocket. She was dancing around his feet, her bright button eyes greedily fastened on his pocket. As far as JB was concerned, Conrad had bought her affections. And if the treats ran out, Conrad was SOL as far as the little dog was concerned.

  “Can’t he take her?”

  Conrad didn’t even do JB the courtesy of looking at him, just gestured with a thumb.

  “Max wants all the SEALs to stay here,” Tansy said. “On the estate.”

  Conrad looked like he wanted to say something uncomplimentary about Max, but he refrained. “Then why can’t you and I go? I protected you last year.”

  “John wants me to stay here,” Tansy said, with a glance at him.

  Conrad looked at him too, with a scowl. “What is this? You guys come in, acting like you’re hot shit, and suddenly I’m relegated to pet sitter?”

  “You’re not relegated to anything,” JB said. “Mr. Leighton arranged with command to have a squad of SEALs patrol the estate and provide security for him and his daughter. That’s what we’re doing. Someone has to take the dog to the groomer. You can either work with the program or we’ll get someone else to deal with it.”