Free Shell Game by Chris Keniston Page A

often. Never could he remember wanting the simplest of touches more than he wanted air to breathe. Not that he didn’t want to touch and taste her all over, but there had been plenty of women whose pants he couldn’t wait to get into. Pure unadulterated lust he was used to. He was a sailor after all. Nothing unusual about a girl in every port.
    But his need to just be near her was totally different. Totally new. And totally terrifying. And not much terrified a SEAL.
    “Celebratory drinks are on me.” Sophia held up her near-empty glass. “I highly recommend this coconut chi chi. Delicious.”
    “Just to show I’m a good sport”—Herbie smiled at Sophia—“first round is on me.”
    “Not me, you two. It’s been a long day. All I want is to crawl into bed with my book.”
    Visions of Sharla crawling into bed were the last thing Luke needed. What he really needed was to get on a computer to see what he could dig up on George and now Herbie. Maybe that would keep his thoughts out of Sharla’s bed. Right . And the Queen of England drinks bourbon not tea.
    “I actually have some work to do.” Luke pushed to his feet and turned to Sharla. “I’ll walk you back.”
    “That won’t be necessary.”
    “I didn’t say it was.”
    Sharla frowned; her grandmother beamed, and Herbie chuckled. “Might as well accept it, dear. You can’t take chivalry out of the navy.”
    “Navy?” Sharla’s eyes rounded in surprise at Luke.
    “Not anymore.” He wasn’t going to elaborate. If the words Central Intelligence Agency came out of his mouth, she’d never let him walk her to her cabin, and, though he had no intention of acting on his attraction to her, he very much wanted to escort her safely to her room. “Shall we go?”
    Gathering up a light shawl, Sharla stepped out in front of him and walked to the exit. At the elevators she turned to face him. “I don’t think there’s much risk of being mugged on my way to my cabin.”
    “Did I say there was?”
    “The cabin stewards are all over the place, tending to rooms and doing whatever it is they do.”
    “Making animals out of folded towels.”
    That made her face light up. “They are good. I got a puppy dog wearing my sunglasses.”
    “Monkey hanging from the ceiling.”
    Her eyes did that rounded thing again. “How’d they do that?”
    “With a coat hanger.”
    “I hope I get one.”
    “It’s a long cruise. I’m sure we’re going to see quite a menagerie.”
    The elevator opened on the fifth floor. She stepped out and came to an abrupt stop when he followed her. “You really don’t have to do this.”
    “I’m heading to the computer stations on the other end of the ship. You’re on my way.”
    He recognized the moment she resigned herself to an escort. Her breath blew out heavily, and her shoulders relaxed. But the giveaway was the gentle shaking of her head. “You win.”
    He didn’t even try to hold back the smile that took over his face. “I always do.”
    * * *
    Each step down the narrow hall made Sharla more intimately aware of the man at her heels. Ignoring him was becoming increasingly difficult. Especially since he seemed intent on inserting himself in her path at every turn. Which, considering they appeared to be one of the few single adults on the ship under the age of sixty, shouldn’t come as a surprise to her. She just wished he wasn’t so…much.
    At her room, she slid in the keycard, dipped the handle and shoving open the heavy door, turned to glance at him over her shoulder. Determination to hurry inside and keep away from the temptation that was Luke Chapman waged a small war with the sappy girl who wanted to simply stand there and stare at him. Or worse, pull him into her arms and kiss him until they docked in the next port.
    Luke bobbed his head and, to her chagrin, took a step back. “I don’t think I need to check under the bed for the bogeyman.”
    Words wouldn’t come. The innocent mention of a bed in Luke’s deep