Saved by the SEALs: A Military Reverse Harem Romance

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Saved by the SEALs: A Military Reverse Harem Romance Page 15

by Cassie Cole


  “Those are tough shoes to fill.”

  “I suppose. My great-grandfather fought in the Pacific during World War Two. Grandpa was in Korea, and my father was in the first Gulf War. But I’m the first frogman in the family. A frogman is a nickname for a SEAL.”

  “Cairo and Hunter told me. Any amphibious soldier who wears SCUBA equipment, right?”

  “That’s right,” he said approvingly.

  “Do you like being their boss?”

  He snorted. “I’m hardly their boss. The LC of a strike team gives orders, but he’s right there with them rather than sitting behind a desk.”

  “Right, right. Sorry.”

  “But I like it just fine.” His voice was filled with pride. “We weren’t the team to kill Bin Laden, but the Lucky 13th gets the toughest missions. Three-man strike teams are inherently dangerous. With an eight-man team, if one guy gets injured, another man can pick him up and you’ve still got six active assault rifles to cover them. But us? If Cairo’s knocked unconscious by a rocket-propelled grenade, and I throw him over my shoulder, that leaves just Hunter to give covering fire. We have to be incredibly precise with our planning and strategy, because one misstep means disaster.”

  “I never thought of it like that.”

  He smiled down at me. “Have you ever thought of it at all?”

  “Well, no.”

  He nodded. “But we don’t do it for the glory. Nobody from the Lucky 13th will ever get a book deal. We’ll serve our time and get honorably discharged and never talk about it again. But all of that’s fine, because we will know what we did. How we made the world a better place.”

  “Our country is lucky to have men like you keeping it safe,” I said, awe in my voice. “And Hunter, and Cairo, I mean. The three of you.”

  “Yep.”

  We danced in a slow circle.

  “What about you?” he said awkwardly. “How’d you get into microbiology? Is there a long line of microbiologists in the Helmandollar family tree?”

  “Not quite,” I chuckled. “I grew up playing with dolls like all the other girls. Well, my aunt broke the mold and bought me a microscope for my birthday when I was 11 or 12. Nothing fancy, just the kind of thing you’d buy at Wal Mart for $50. I think it had 20x optical zoom only, a single lens rather than rotating.”

  “You know how earlier I explained what my P226 pistol was?” he asked. “And you mentioned how none of that meant anything to you? Well now it’s my turn to feel that way.”

  “It was an amateur microscope,” I explained. “Well, I unwrapped the thing at my birthday party and didn’t know what to do with it. So my aunt put it together while I played with the other kids, and then she took a sample of water from a puddle in our backyard with an eyedropper. She made me watch as she put a single drop of water on a slide. I remember being bored senseless. But then I looked through the microscope…” I sighed. “It was filled with life! Bacteria and smaller protozoa swimming around like in the public pool on the 4th of July. An entire world living right under our noses, totally invisible. I can still remember the sense of wonder I felt when I looked at that tiny drop of water. Like that microscope gave me a superpower: the ability to see the invisible. I still feel that way today. It excites me much more than, I don’t know. Real stuff.”

  “Stuff like terrorists who want Catalonia to break away from Spain?”

  “Yes! Exactly.” I chuckled. “You must think that’s super boring compared to your job.”

  Logan shook his head with a smile on his face. “The world you study is just as real as the so-called real world. Terrorists kill thousands of people every year, but that doesn’t hold a candle to the number of people who die from diseases. Right?”

  “I guess so,” I said.

  “I have a tremendous amount of respect for the men and women who sit in a lab all day developing the next vaccine, or discovering a way to fight malaria,” Logan said. He sounded just as proud as he had when he talked about his SEAL team. “My grandfather had to quit the Navy when he developed post-polio syndrome in his 30s. People like you helped cure Polio so that nobody would ever have to experience that again.”

  “Well,” I said, “I doubt I’ll cure polio. I don’t have any idea what I’ll do with my degree.”

  “And I don’t know if we’ll be able to stop these CLF terrorist,” Logan admitted somberly. “But the potential is what really matters. You have so much potential, Karen.”

  Hearing the words of praise from the huge SEAL struck me more than I expected. It was probably amplified by the wine. All I knew was that the way he smiled down at me, eyes full of pride for me, a silly microbiologist grad student, made me feel better than I’d felt since coming to Spain.

  So I kissed him.

  Our lips connected like they were made for it. He tilted his head down into mine, kissing me back even harder, like an animal waking from its slumber. His hands pulled me close and for several long seconds the world dimmed to our lips, our bodies, our souls.

  Logan pulled away rapidly, almost violently. “I… I’m sorry.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, looking up at him.

  “I can’t, Karen.” His face hardened and his voice turned to steel. “I just can’t.”

  He marched out of the room, leaving me standing there catching my breath.

  29

  Logan

  I strode past the servants in the palace, ignoring their questioning glances and offers of towels or refreshment. My chest heaved as I rounded the corner and took the steps two-at-a-time.

  I was running from her.

  I’d never retreated from anything in my life, whether in battle or a personal matter. I tackled my problems head-on. It was the easiest way. Avoiding a problem just meant more problems down the road.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to say the words to Karen. To explain to her that I couldn’t make the same mistake Hunter and Cairo did, that I had to be better than them. I had to have a stronger will.

  It wouldn’t be a mistake, that devilish voice whispered in my ear. The voice that tempted me with things I shouldn’t do. Nobody would have to know. Karen wants you. She’s made it obvious.

  She’s one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen.

  I made myself ignore the voice as I made the long walk back to our rooms.

  I was conflicted. She was already wrapped up in our shit more than she deserved, and it was thanks to a night of careless sex. Eventually—sooner rather than later—this would all end and she would go on her way. Back to North Carolina. I needed to be able to cut ties with her when that happened. Unlike Hunter and Cairo, I couldn’t just have a fling. It wasn’t who I was.

  When I was with a woman, it meant something.

  But Karen did mean something. I wanted her so bad it hurt. That same feeling when you’re starving and your stomach twists in on itself, except it was my soul instead of my stomach and it was Karen’s lips I craved. I’d never felt this way about a woman so soon. It terrified me.

  It excited me.

  It would be so easy, the voice said, returning with a vengeance. Kiss her, rip her clothes off, throw her on the bed. Take her the way she deserves to be taken.

  I locked my bedroom door, then put on noise-canceling headphones so I wouldn’t be tempted to leave when I heard Karen return to her room. I was the Lieutenant Commander of SEAL Team 13. I had to be better than this. I wasn’t allowed to give in to my desires, no matter how strong they were.

  I closed my eyes and tried not to fantasize about the way Karen felt.

  30

  Karen

  I wanted to chase after Logan, but I was too afraid.

  It was like vines had grown out of the floor and wrapped around my feet, holding me in place. He stormed out of the room leaving just the memory of him, and the delicious musk scent hanging in the air.

  “¿Mas vino, senorita?” one of the servants asked, gesturing with the bottle of dessert wine.

  I let him refill my glass,
drank most of it down in one long pull, then allowed him to refill it again.

  I wasted time walking along the outside of the beautiful room, admiring the collection of antique books and knick-knacks on the bookshelves. Although knick-knacks to a Spanish princess included a Fabergé egg, ornate toy carriages wrought in gold and silver leaf, and framed photographs of Sofia Garcia’s family with other royal families from around the world.

  I felt uncomfortable with all the servants watching and waiting on me, but it was still less uncomfortable than going upstairs and facing Logan. I didn’t understand his rejection. I was certain I saw lust in those piercing emerald eyes of his. A desire that was growing out of control like a bonfire.

  By the time I finished my glass of sweet wine I decided I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I went upstairs to our rooms, but instead of knocking on Logan’s closed door, I quietly gathered my belongings from my bedroom. I hurried downstairs to the front door, unsure of where I was going to go but knowing I had to go somewhere, anywhere but here.

  I was in the huge foyer, thinking of an excuse for the guards at the end of the driveway, when the door opened.

  Sofia Garcia strode inside her palace, resplendent in a dark evening gown with a long train which dragged on the rug. Two of her children were with her, both boys who were absolutely adorable in matching clothes, khaki dress pants and blue blazers with brass buttons up the chest and on the wrists.

  Sofia paused when she saw me, then smiled warmly. “Karen! I am so happy you are awake.”

  I gave a start. “You are?”

  She kissed both of her boys and they ran upstairs, followed by two flustered servants who were unable to keep up with them. “Of course! I always have a glass of wine before dinner, especially after traveling, and I abhor drinking alone. Do me the favor of joining me?”

  I stood there with my bag over a shoulder, unsure of what to say. But one thing was certain: I couldn’t say no to a princess.

  “Of course I’ll join you.”

  I left my bag in the foyer and followed Sofia into the same parlor I had left minutes before. Music still played, and thankfully none of the servants made fun of me for returning so soon. The servant with the wine knew exactly what Sofia wanted, returning with two glasses of red.

  “To pleasant new guests,” she toasted. I smiled and raised my glass. Sofia lowered herself into the velvet loveseat, gown splaying out around her like a wedding dress. She rearranged it and then patted the seat next to her for me to join her.

  “Have you enjoyed your stay?”

  “Oh, yes!” I said. “Your… home is wonderful.” I didn’t know if it would be rude to call it a mansion or palace. But the Infanta didn’t notice my hesitation.

  “You slept well in your quarters?”

  “Better than I’ve ever slept in my life.”

  She chuckled. “I always sleep best when I am at home.”

  I would too if my home were a palace, I thought.

  “Your dress is beautiful,” I said, remembering my manners. “Were you at an event?”

  “A charity fundraiser,” she said, though her voice was filled with satisfaction rather than annoyance. “We are sponsors of a hospital specializing in children’s cancer. It makes my heart ache to see such pain. We match all donations at the event, along with a separate individual donation.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I said. “The charity, I mean.”

  “We do our best.” She sipped her wine with the slow precision of royalty. “Logan went to bed?”

  “He did,” I sputtered. “I’m sure he would have stayed up if he knew you were returning.”

  Sofia scoffed. “I do not believe so. Logan has always insisted on an early bedtime. It annoys my husband to no end when Logan retires after only one game of Snooker.”

  I didn’t know what Snooker was, so I asked, “Does Logan visit often?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I suppose that is information he would not like me to divulge. Secrets of his profession, yes?”

  “Oh. Right, I guess so.” I sipped my wine and charged ahead. “It’s just that I can’t get a read on him.”

  She extended her arm and twirled the wine glass back and forth, which made the long evening gloves that ran to her elbows twist softly. “You have only just met him, yes?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “He told me you got mixed up in his team’s mission by a fluke accident.”

  “Something like that,” I replied.

  She waved a hand. “I have known Logan many years. He can be incredibly harsh on the outside, but much of that is a facade he puts up to keep people from getting close. Barriers to his soul, my husband calls them. Yet once these barriers are torn down, he is one of the most passionate, caring men I have ever met. I wonder if it is such passion and care that requires him to erect such emotional fortifications, yes?”

  “I can see that,” I admitted, remembering the look I’d seen in his eye.

  “And despite the action his profession requires,” she added, “Logan can be quite reluctant to discuss personal matters.”

  “That is understandable,” I said carefully.

  Sofia sighed as if I wasn’t getting it. She leaned forward and said, “If you want… to say something to Logan, you must say it. Then say it again, and a again. This is what is required to get through to him. He will not come to you, even if he desperately wants to.” She drank the rest of her wine and held it out for a servant to take.

  “I think… I know what you mean,” I said as I finished my own wine.

  “Excellent. I hope my advice proves valuable.” She rose and stretched. “May you have another blissfully pleasant night, Karen. I hope you will join me and my children for breakfast.”

  “Of course,” I said. She kissed me on both cheeks, and I did the same, and then she left the room.

  I went back upstairs with renewed courage, bolstered by the extra glass of wine and the words of a Spanish princess. The long walk back to our rooms gave me ample time to rehearse what I was going to say.

  I approached Logan’s closed door, then knocked. There was no response, but the door was locked, so he must have been inside.

  When he didn’t come to the door I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Logan. I want to tell you something. I know it’s crazy after such a short time, but I’m developing feelings for you. Strong feelings. Maybe it’s because you saved me, or because we’re alone here together until your mission begins, but I… I want you, Logan. Desperately. And I can feel that you want me too. And if two people want each other, and they’re both single, and there’s nothing else standing in their way, then why resist? Especially in a place as beautiful as this?”

  I realized I was rambling. I cleared my throat and added, “If you do want me the way I sense you do, come out here and I’ll give you the best night of your life. And if you don’t have the same feelings I do, then…”

  I trailed off, waiting for his response. Waiting for him to throw open the door and to lift me in his arms. I desperately wanted him to carry me to the bed and rip my clothes off, giving in to the primal instincts that had blessed men and women for as long as there had been men and women.

  But my only answer was silence. Not a voiced response, or even the shuffling of sheets or footsteps on the floor. Only crippling silence.

  There’s my answer.

  I fled from the door before he could hear my tears.

  31

  Logan

  I dreamed of Karen.

  Long dreams which blended together seamlessly. Dreams full of cliches. Holding hands with her on the beach while the wet sand pressed between our toes. Cuddling in a chair while reading in the evening, sharing a bottle of wine as the sun faded in the windows, yet remaining squinting in the darkness because neither of us wanted to get up to turn on a light. Kisses, a hundred different kinds, short and sweet kisses, long and passionate ones which muffle our mutual cries of ecstasy, and every kiss in between.

  I woke
the next morning feeling different about myself, and about Karen. Those were the kinds of dreams that changed a man, too vivid to shake.

  I removed my noise-canceling headphones and left my bedroom. The door to Karen’s bedroom was closed, so I went downstairs instead. Sofia was back with two of her boys, Pablo and Miguel, who leaped up from the table and wrapped my legs in hugs. Sofia scolded them for their poor manners but did so with a lighthearted tone.

  Breakfast was even more luxurious than the previous day. Today featured little pastries, some filled with sausage and others filled with cream. I ate half a dozen of them and two cups of coffee while the boys excitedly filled me in on how their schooling had gone since I was last here.

  “Your stay has been enjoyable?” Sofia asked when she could get a word in.

  “It always is,” I said with a smile.

  “This is the first time you have brought a young woman with you.”

  I sipped my coffee to give myself a moment to think. “We have helped people hide from the CLF before.”

  “Never a beautiful young woman,” she pointed out. “And never one so taken with you.”

  I made myself chuckle, although there was nothing funny about her statement. It was what I’d been thinking about the moment my eyes opened this morning.

  “I only just met Karen.”

  “And this means what, exactly?”

  I accepted more coffee from a servant and then gestured with my cup. “It would be ridiculous for a girl to be taken with me after knowing me for two days.”

  Sofia stared back at me with the composed expression of a monarch. It was a shame she was so far down the line of succession because she would have made a great queen.

  “I knew Carlos would be my husband the moment my eyes found him across the room,” she said. “Before that, I believed love at first sight was a thing of fairy tales. Now?” She gestured around her, as if to include the palace, her children, and everything else that had resulted from her marriage.

 

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