Free A SEAL's Seduction by Tawny Weber

keep her here this time?
    And why did he care so much?
    Caring, wanting to know she’d be here long-term, curiosity about her past, her present, her future. Those were all off-limits. Bad ideas for a man who played Russian roulette for a living.
    He crossed the cool living-room floor, his feet silent on the Mexican tiles, around the dining table and into the nook of a kitchen. A coffeepot, a single pan and a pair of wineglasses were all that were visible. He skipped the glass and stuck his head under the faucet, letting the cold water wash away the remnants of nausea his dream had caused.
    He hadn’t used sex to numb the memories, but if he’d been the type to do that kind of thing, it sure as hell hadn’t worked. He shook the water off his hair, grabbing a paper towel to dry his face, and stared out the small window at the smaller garden beyond. Bright tropical-looking flowers bloomed, innocent and welcoming.
    He felt happy and alive and filled with the weirdest sort of contentment with Alexia. She made him laugh. Watching her the few times she’d slept had filled him with a scary sort of peace. Her body was a wonderland, one he wanted to explore and lose himself in over and over again.
    He didn’t belong here.
    He didn’t do relationships, for one. And even though she’d made sounds like she wasn’t looking for one either, she was the relationship kind of woman. Or maybe just the kind of woman who meant relationships to him.
    He was due back on base the day after tomorrow. Most likely out of the country before the end of the week. And she didn’t do navy guys. At least, Blake winced, she didn’t when the guy was honest and up front before she’d done him.
    Time to cut it short. Say goodbye, get back to real life. His gaze dropped from the view to his hands. Hands that just hours ago had been all over Alexia. Had touched, explored every inch of her delectable body. Hands that were as competent with a weapon as they were at bringing her to a screaming orgasm. Hands that were weapons.
    He remembered the devastation on Phil’s mom’s face at the service. Blake’s only comfort had been that nobody would be that torn up if he ended up in a flag-covered box. His only relation was his mom, who probably wouldn’t sober up enough to attend. It was better that way.
    Better not to get involved with someone. Not to ask them to risk caring, to risk being hurt.
    Easier.
    * * *
    A LEXIA WOKE with a slow, moaning sort of sigh. Every muscle, every inch of her body was soaked in satisfaction. She could barely move, and wasn’t even sure she wanted to wake. Except in sleep, she’d miss out on the fun and games. And she really, really liked fun and games with Blake.
    With a soft, purring sort of moan, she rolled onto her back, shoved her hair out of her face and scanned the bed. The wide, empty expanse of bed.
    She frowned. Where was Blake? His belt was still draped over her dresser handle, and his shoes there by the door. She should go look for him, but she needed a break. Time to figure out why she felt so empty waking without him next to her.
    That was stupid, she told herself. He was a one-night guy who’d simply extended the party a little. She wasn’t going to be a cliché and start wishing he’d ask for more. They’d both made it clear that wasn’t what they wanted. And she’d be damned if she’d be the one to renege on that. Of course, if he happened to have changed his mind, she wouldn’t say no, either.
    Shoving her hand through her hair again, she tugged the curls a few times, hoping it’d shake loose some of the confusion. That her thoughts would line neatly up into nice, manageable rows the way they were supposed to.
    Maybe if they talked?
    But she’d noticed that Blake wasn’t much of a talking kind of guy. Maybe because his mouth had been so busy doing other things. Delightful things. Deliciously wonderfully sexual things.
    Whew. Alexia waved her hand in front of her face. Shower time. Hopefully the