Free Claiming Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 1) by Kat Cantrell

breaking up with him. When the car went under the water, I was still strapped into the passenger seat.”
    Dex’s grip tightened around her, pushing all the air out of her lungs, but she didn’t care. His skin smelled of pine and salt and man. It was a heady combination when coupled with the hard planes of his body. His scent swirled through her, signaling safety, shelter. Nothing could touch her while she had the powerful force field of Dex surrounding her.
    “Tell me where to find him,” he demanded hoarsely as his hands wound gently through her hair, cupping her head to cradle it closer to his skin. “Now.”
    A smile stretched her mouth in spite of what would be the probable outcome of that meeting. “The morgue. He didn’t escape the car. They pulled his body out later. I watched, though I had to fight the psychiatrist the hospital appointed. I had to make sure he was dead.”
    “Then it’s over, Emma.” He said her name like a prayer and it washed through her, wiping away the filth of talking about the past. “You have to stop associating the ocean with death. You lived. That’s what water is—a building block of life. You came out of the water shiny and new and free. The ocean is a place where you battled evil and won.”
    Oh, God . Her fisted hands loosened and she spread them across Dex’s back, yearning to increase contact with him as she absorbed his words. “I never thought about it like that.”
    “The ocean, it’s an amazing place. Full of strange creatures you can’t see on land.” His voice remained calm and even, but it took on a hint of wonder that spoke of his love of the ocean as clearly as if he’d said exactly that. “The laws of nature are fierce and absolute under the surface, far more so than any other place. There’s a pecking order. You’re prey or predator. There’s a swift justice. You were meant to live, so you did.”
    “I… want to see it that way. I want to get over feeling like I’m drowning the moment the water touches me.”
    “You can. With me. I’ll show you,” he promised. “You just have to trust me.”
    “I do,” she said. “I thought I’d never trust a man again, but you’re so different than—”
    He froze, going so still she feared for a moment she’d said the wrong thing. Then he drew back, cutting off all physical contact with painful abruptness, and his mask of indifference fell into place. She was losing him again to whatever darkness lived inside him that he seemed to think she couldn’t handle.
    “Trust me in the water, Emma. Only in the water. I’m a guide to the other side of your fear of drowning. That’s all.”
    “Don’t tell me what to do.” Hands on hips, she smiled to take the sting out of it. “If I want to think you’re an amazing, kind person, you can’t stop me.”
    He shook his head, his beautiful, talented lips stretching into a frown that looked all wrong on him. “You’re confusing the act of stopping a jerkweed from manhandling you with some kind of heroic deed. I’m not that guy.”
    “You’re so silly. That’s the definition of a hero.”
    Did he really not see himself that way? It was so clear to her that he was a good man. Why was she having such a hard time convincing him of it?
    And that was the crux of this. He wanted her. His touch dripped with desire and yet he held himself back from turning their interaction into a highly charged fling—one she’d been angling for since day one. But because he was such a good man, he wanted to protect her from being hurt, even without knowing whether she needed protection or not. It was what he did, without question, without hesitation.
    It was as maddening as it was endearing.
    “We’ll agree to disagree,” he said flatly. “What you call heroic is common decency. That’s all.”
    “But common decency is rare,” she argued. “Or we wouldn’t need heroes.”
    He crossed his arms over his washboard abs, hiding them. But she still knew they were there,