Bad Boy SEALs

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Bad Boy SEALs Page 9

by Scarlett Avery


  “Really?” I ask in a meek voice, suddenly feeling a little dizzy from their intoxicating presence.

  “Absolutely,” he quips.

  "I agree. You were charming on that first night—even if a little drunk—but now you’re incredibly fascinating.” Holden is a man of few words, but God, what does come out of his mouth is so powerful.

  I let out a little laugh. “What?” Brandon asks.

  “I really shouldn’t admit to this...”

  “Of course you can,” Holden presses.

  When I hesitate, Brandon, adds, “Come on, Amelia. We have this whole savior-slash-damsel-in-distress relationship going on. You can tell us anything,” he winks.

  Here goes everything. “I was planning on going to the Warwick after this event. Tonight is their—”

  “Monthly new members’ party,” Holden finishes my sentence.

  “Yes. Charlie talked me into dropping by—”

  “And you were going to show up in that dress?” Brandon waves his finger in a circular motion.

  “No. I have a change of clothes in the car,” I explain.

  “Thank God.” Brandon seems genuinely relieved. “I would’ve hated to spend the entire evening fighting off any bastard who dared to look at you the wrong way.” I can’t help but laugh.

  “I gather you two were going to be there?”

  “Yes,” Brandon confirms.

  “What a coincidence,” I laugh.

  “So why were you going to the club?” Holden asks.

  “I wanted to thank you. I was so touched when I found out what you did for me. I mean, officers were pointing guns at your heads and you wouldn’t let go of me. If that isn’t bravery, I don’t know what is.” Okay, that’s not exactly what I wanted to say, but I already feel so transparent to them.

  “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not the first time. That said, for you, it was worth it,” Brandon reveals.

  “That kind of talk goes straight to a girl’s head, sir.” I blush.

  “Is that the only reason you wanted to see us again?” Holden’s question unravels my lie.

  I bite the inside of my lip, weighing the implications of opening myself up to these two hunks. It takes me a few long seconds to decide, but in the end, I give in to the moment. “I know this sounds crazy, but after what Charlie told me about you, I was curious. Okay, I’m downplaying it. I was very intrigued by you.”

  “You were?” Holden flashes me a wide smile.

  “If I must be honest—”

  “I wouldn't expect anything less,” Holden encourages.

  “I was hoping to bump into you again because I really wanted to know what you... looked like.”

  “Do we pass the test?” In the short time I’ve known them, I’m not surprised that question comes from Brandon.

  “With flying colors,” I laugh.

  “You hear that? The lady likes what she sees,” Brandon exclaims, hitting Holden’s arm.

  “Likewise.” One word. How can Holden disarm me like that?

  “Pfff.” I wave my hand over my shoulder. “Who needs the Warwick? Here we are instead.” I pause. My gaze shifts from one delicious man to the other.

  “I can’t tell you what it does to me to know that you were as eager to find us as we were to track you down. That kind of revelation puts a lot of ideas in a man’s head.” Holden’s voice is so low I’m surprised I can hear him over the noise in the room.

  I’m suddenly very self-conscious. “Maybe I’ve said too much...” I let my words hang.

  Holden takes another step forward. He’s so close that the distance between us is intimate. “Not even close.”

  I blink away for a beat unable to withstand the smoldering energy emanating from his gaze. I open my mouth to say something, but change my mind when I catch sight of Pamela Lancaster from the corner of my eye. She’s approaching us with a determined step. "Miss Cavendish, Chief Petty Officer Barclay, Petty Officer Buckingham." Her eyes move slowly to each one of us. "We’re ready," she announces. "If you’ll please follow me to the dining room. The Prime Minister and the Deputy Prime Minister are already waiting."

  And just like that, Pamela puts an end to a really good thing.

  CHAPTER 11

  Amelia

  Dinner was superb. It always is when Daddy holds events at the Bromley. As delicious as the meal was, I couldn't help but spend most of tonight lost in a daze. I want to call it lust, but I'm afraid of the implications. I kept replaying in a loop my conversation with Holden and Brandon. Their words weren’t what troubled me. It was that blazing heat burning from their blue eyes and the way I responded to them. I tried my best not to be too obvious, but every time I chanced a furtive look in their direction, it was met by a searing gaze. They’re as keenly aware of me as I am of them. And that thought alone had my stomach performing somersaults that would make a gymnast green with envy. A few times Brandon would furtively wink at me. Instantly, I would blush like a schoolgirl, biting down on my lower lip while scouring the room to see if anyone noticed. Other times, Holden would just stare at me with no pretense of hiding the fact that he couldn’t seem to tear those spectacularly enchanting blue eyes away from me. Those moments left me so bloody turned on. The man is a force of nature.

  As thrilling as all of this is, there's a little nagging voice in my head reminding me that I spent way too much time ogling at not one, but two men. It shouldn’t be like that, right?

  After dinner, my father presents the honors. The ceremony flows flawlessly. I watch in awe as Brandon and Holden accept their medals from my father. In fact, I clapped a little louder when they crossed the room to step up on the podium.

  Once the requisite speeches of acceptance, polite applause and official photos are taken care of, my father and I do our last rounds. With such a large crowd, the introductions are tedious and time-consuming, but it’s his duty—and of course mine. Before long, the more fun part of the evening is set to begin. By that I mean, once people have enjoyed a memorable meal and they’ve sipped on some of the finest wines and champagne money can buy, they tend to loosen up a little bit. Don't get any crazy ideas. This ceremony is hosted by the Prime Minister, after all. That said, a few drinks and some inviting beats go a long way in lowering inhibitions.

  Our guests are already on the dance floor swaying to the sound of the mellow music. Most people move cautiously. Some are even gracious dancers, but there are always a few couples at every single function that think they're auditioning for a dance competition. It always makes me laugh. My father and I are doing our thing. His hip injury might prevent him from performing sophisticated in-your-face moves, like the couple to our left, but he can hold his own.

  “What a great turn out,” my father marvels.

  “Not surprising since it’s one of your last formal events,” I say, scouring the room and hoping my eyes will land on a handsome blond god and his equally delicious best friend.

  “I’m sure you’re right, darling. As much as I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this run, it’s time for me to step down.”

  “You’ve been in this world for so long now. I’m sure the British public will miss you.”

  “I just wish I knew what I’m going to do with myself.” I can read the concern in his voice.

  “Travel? Spend some time with...” I pause, mustering the courage to allow the words to slip from my mouth, “your new wife.” I nearly choke with disgust.

  My father chuckles. "At least you didn't call her a slut." I avert my gaze. I’m really not in the mood to dive in to that conversation so I just ignore his comment. "Come on, ladybug, don't close up on me," my father pleads. "She's not here. It's just the two of us tonight." Thank God for small favors.

  “Maybe you should go work with my brothers,” I suggest. "After all, they're running your empire."

  “They’re grown men. They’ve been at the helm of my companies for over a decade now—and I'm incredibly proud of what we've accomplished. They don’t need the
ir old man meddling in their business. Maybe I'll beg Grayson to give me a job. After all, I hold a double degree in finance and in law."

  Grayson Edwards III is my father's oldest and dearest friend. He's also one of London's most formidable divorce lawyers. If he's representing your interests, your soon-to-be ex might as well go home. With Grayson, it's game over before he even walks into an amicable meeting. If things turn ugly and he has to go to the courtroom, then you're certain that he'll leave you with nothing more than the knickers you're wearing.

  "I thought it was in corporate law?"

  "Who do you think advises Grayson when it comes to the divorce of a prominent CEO who owns their own company?"

  "Point taken," I laugh.

  Daddy shrugs. "I’ll figure something out, ladybug.”

  “I’m sure you will,” I sympathize.

  Some men are go-getters, some want power, others want to rule. My father wants it all. I doubt he’s going to enjoy sitting around idle.

  “Look at me lowering the mood in the room. We’re here to dance, my lady,” my father cheers.

  As we swirl, I crane my neck, doing my best to catch a glimpse of my two saviors, but it's in vain. With my diminutive height—even with my five-inch heels—I can’t see much.

  “Chief Petty Officer Barclay and Petty Officer Buckingham are quite impressive?” My father’s abrupt change of subject catches me by surprise. Did he notice me searching the crowd for them?

  “They are.” I look up at my father, amusement twinkling in his green eyes.

  "What?" he asks.

  “Did you really think I needed two extra babysitters when I already have two strapped to my heels?”

  "I don't know what you're talking about, ladybug." He raises his eyebrows, feigning innocence.

  “Lord Victor Cavendish, are you being coy with me?” I scold.

  “Me? Never. I'm a man of honor, my lady. I'd never dream of tricking my own daughter."

  "Really?" I squint, giving him my best dare stare. "Why don't I believe a word you just said?"

  "Okay, maybe I was a little obvious in my approach. In my defense, I had a pretty good reason to push."

  "Do you care to share it with me?" I ask.

  "I know you're not exactly in the same field, but your business is also in technology and some of your products cater to mobile phones. I thought there might be a synergy between the three of you."

  If you only knew.

  "Was that your only motive?" I ask suspiciously.

  “You’ve done so many of these occasions, I doubt you’d be able to count them. You’re always the picture of politeness—the perfect hostess, just like your mother. You’re poised, eloquent and half of the time bored out of your mind.”

  I explode in laughter. "I’m miffed. I thought I was doing a better job of hiding it," I confess.

  "This is my world, ladybug. You just get to visit it from time to time. Tonight, I saw something different—”

  "In what sense?" I'm doing my best to fight off a smile.

  "There was an obvious sparkle in your eyes that I hadn't seen before. It’s no secret that my matchmaking skills are atrocious. I was way off with Frederick. Trust me, I'm not trying to play Cupid. I just wanted to give you enough time to get to know the two military men turned tech billionaires a little better so you can decide which one tickles your fancy.” Would the two of them be an acceptable answer? “You heard them, they’ll be in London for a while.”

  I'm just about to refute my father's assumption when a hand clamps on his shoulder. Instinctively, Daddy flips around to face the man who interrupted our dance and pushes me behind him. His sudden movement causes his officers to take a few steps forward. Officer Malone and Officer Keenan do the same.

  "Victor, old chap. How are you?"

  There are very few people in this world who call my father by his first name.

  “If it isn’t a ghost,” Daddy replies. The left side of his mouth curls up, but it's more of a cringe than a smile. "Where have you been hiding? We still keep sending you invitations, but it’s usually your eldest son who shows up at these events." I step from behind my father to stand next to him.

  "I've been keeping busy in South Africa while Edmund has been taking care of my affairs here," the stranger explains. “I must apologize for arriving late and missing dinner and the ceremony. Just as I was about to leave the office, I got a call—a messy situation I had to deal with."

  "I understand. Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do, right?"

  "Indeed, much to my discontentment," the stranger nods. He shifts his attention to me. "I'm sorry, Victor, please tell me this isn't who I think it is.” His lips form a smile, but his eyes are stone cold.

  "Where are my manners?" There’s no pleasantry in the way Daddy says that. There’s something strange about this moment. My father is the epitome of courtesy and graciousness. It's unlike him to wait this long to introduce me to someone. "Ralph, this is my beautiful daughter Amelia. Darling, this is Ralph Delaware. I've known him since we were boys. Ever since then, we've been traveling in the same circles."

  I notice how my father doesn't call him a friend.

  "Although yours are far more prestigious than mine," Mr. Delaware laughs. "I can barely get the attention of my boys, you, on the other hand command the attention of a nation. The entire country and the world claim that you’re the best Prime Minister in recent history. Loved by all—the working-class, the elite and the Royal Family. I can't possibly compete with that. I never could." The bitterness in that statement is overwhelming.

  "Ah, a walk down memory lane." The sarcasm is practically dripping from my father's reply.

  Yikes.

  Mr. Delaware ignores my father's comments. "I'm certain you don't remember me, Amelia, but it's a great pleasure to be in your presence again," he says, extending his hand to me.

  "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Delaware," I shake his hand with a media-ready smile frozen on my face.

  "My God, you're the spitting image of your mother—may her soul rest in peace—I hope you don't mind me saying that." He clasps his other hand over mine, but it doesn't feel at all like it did when Brandon greeted me with a two-handed shake. "The resemblance is uncanny—all the way down to those beautiful green eyes that sparkle like gems. I can't remember the last time I saw you. You couldn't have been more than a child."

  "You haven't been in London for at least five years. Let's not forget that you've been traveling back and forth for years now. During that time, Amelia was at boarding school, then university and special training after that," my father answers on my behalf.

  "Pardon me, but it seems like I’ve interrupted a father-daughter dance." Daddy opens his mouth to respond, but Mr. Delaware doesn't give him a chance. "Victor, would you allow Amelia to honor me by being my partner for this next dance?"

  A few long seconds of awkward silence passes between the two men standing in front of me. When my father doesn't respond, I shift my gaze towards him. There's something unreadable that veils his eyes. He works his jaw. Usually he does that when he's incredibly tense. "Of course, Ralph."

  The one thing that strikes me the most is that Mr. Delaware goes on about my mum, but not once does he ask after my father's new wife. I have loads of reasons for hating her. I wonder what his are.

  These two men have a history and it's not a good one.

  CHAPTER 12

  Brandon

  To say that the honorary reception was humbling, is an understatement. It doesn't matter how many of these I have under my belt, they always stir so many emotions in me. When you start your life with nothing, having Presidents and Prime Ministers recognize you is as surreal as it gets. I still can't wrap my head around it. Not sure I ever will.

  After the official photo sessions, Holden and I were barraged by a swarm of reporters from the top British press. They were all clamoring for more information about our company. We were interviewed for an hour and a half. Insane. Being here is already
a big deal. All this media attention is just gravy.

  Once we wrap things up with the reporters, Holden and I head back to the ballroom. As we enter the expansive regal space, I'm happy to see that it's almost empty. This is the perfect spot for us to talk. As guests flood into the room, the music will camouflage our conversation.

  "As good as that wine was, I definitely need something stronger," Holden throws over his shoulder as he moves decisively towards the bar.

  "Same here."

  Since there’s no line, the bartender hands us two bourbons on the rocks in no time. With our drinks in hand, we move out of earshot.

  "If this isn't fate at work, I don't know what is," Holden broaches the subject we’re burning to discuss.

  "I couldn’t believe my eyes."

  "Of all the high society girls in this city, we have to go to the top of the food chain." Holden chuckles.

  “Tell me about it.” A few short seconds pass between us as we continue to savor our drinks, lost in our thoughts, transfixed by the angel hanging from the Prime Minister's arm. I suspect Holden is as spellbound as I am. "Did you actually kiss her hand?" I ask, breaking the silence.

  "I don't know what came over me." Holden laughs. "That dress, so regal…” he shakes his head. "It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen on a woman’s body."

  I move closer to Holden so that my voice doesn’t carry. “Given the bulge straining against my pants all night and refusing to go down, I tend to agree with you.”

  “You're not alone. I had to force myself to ignore my hard on and tell my brain to shut up as I kept devouring her with my eyes.” A small grunt of a laugh leaves me at Holden’s confession. We both take another swig of our drink and focus on the dance floor where the object of our desire is swaying in her father’s arms. “She looks like an irresistible goddess. It’s pure torment to be around her in that dress.”

  "It’s darn right torture. I can't tell you how many raunchy thoughts were bouncing in my head. I just wanted to rip that thing off her body with my teeth.” I let out a long exhale in an attempt to lower my heart rate.

 

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