by Tawny Weber
Wet ’N Wild Navy SEALS
Tawny Weber
Rogenna Brewer
Laura Marie Altom
Jennifer Lowery
Caitlyn O’Leary
Rachel Grant
Anne Marsh
Pat Keelyn
Teresa Hill
Barbara Raffin
Contents
A SEAL’S PROPOSAL by Tawny Weber
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
SEAL IT WITH A KISS by Rogenna Brewer
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
Also by Rogenna Brewer
ROGUE by Laura Marie Altom
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Dear Readers,
About the Author
A SEAL’S SONG by Jennifer Lowery
Dedication
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Author
A SEAL’S VIGILANT HEART by Caitlyn O’Leary
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
About the Author
WITHHOLDING EVIDENCE by Rachel Grant
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Dear Readers,
Acknowledgments
HER FIREFIGHTER SEAL by Anne Marsh
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Bonus: The Firefighter SEAL’s Baby
Dear Readers,
NOBODY’S HERO by Patricia Keelyn
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Dear Readers,
HERO OF MY HEART by Teresa Hill
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Acknowledgements
Dear Readers,
SEEKING BLISS by Barbara Raffin
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
About the Author
Copyright
A SEAL’S PROPOSAL by Tawny Weber
A SEAL’s Proposal is the first book in New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Tawny Weber’s Sexy SEAL Novella series, part of her Bestselling Sexy SEAL series.
Being the best means making sacrifices, but do vows made at 16 hold true at 24?
Duty First, Duty Only…
As a teenaged Sea Cadet, Sam Morelli joined the elite club his brother formed with other teens, focused on a single goal: to become Navy SEALs. Membership required a vow that once he became a SEAL, the team would be his only commitment. Distractions like relationships or dependents would be forbidden. Eight years later, on the cusp of achieving his goal, Sam has forgotten that vow. But Bryanna Spencer hasn’t.
Sugar, shoes, and a sexy SEAL…
Numbers whiz Bryanna Spencer loves chocolate, designer shoes, and Sam Morelli. She’s always dreamed of one thing: being Sam’s wife. Raised in a Navy family, she knows the rules: to be a great SEAL, a man can’t have a woman weighing down his thoughts. Bryanna’s been nibbling on sweet, sexy,
better-than-chocolate-covered-caramel Sam for four years, but Sam’s dream of being a SEAL has been with him longer. His dream is her nightmare.
Some vows are made to be broken…
With Sam home on leave for Christmas, Bryanna has one last chance to prove to Sam that he wants her more than he wants his SEAL Trident. But time is running out. Once he finishes the last phase of his training, she may lose him forever. But Sam may have different kind of vow in mind…
Chapter 1
Sam Morelli made it his business to be the best.
Even if being the best hurt like hell.
When he was ten, Sam had been so hooked on George of the Jungle that he’d shimmied up the neighbor’s palm tree, grabbed hold of one frond and with a gleeful yodel, swung his way toward the next tree. That he hadn’t killed himself on the ten-foot drop was a flat out miracle. He had broken his collarbone and ended up so bruised and battered that he’d gone trick-or-treating without a mask.
Standing at attention, asphalt burning hot under his booted feet and the blinding sun stabbing painfully into is brain, Sam wished he felt that good right now.
Still, he stood at attention. Shoulders back, chin high, eyes ahead, letting the instructor’s verbal abuse wash right over him. Tuned in just enough in case any of it was shot directly his way. He used the rest of his focus to keep his body from crumpling into a whining heap.
He’d thought his brother was just giving him crap when he’d said that Phase Three of BUD/S was even harder than Hell Week. Turned out, Noah had soft-peddled it.
“Testing in two weeks, you bunch of pansies,” the instructor barked. “Christmas ain’t no excuse to sit on your flabby asses and rot. You got a brain between the bunch of you, you’ll use mandatory PT to stay on your tippy toes.”
With that and one last glare, the instructor whipped off his cap, slapped it against his thigh, snugged it back on his head and jerked his chin.
That’s when Sam’s hero stepped forward.
Lieutenant Commander Sullivan. Their BUD/S Proctor.
The man kicked ass. From a training standpoint, the officer in charge had an easy confidence in the recruits that motivated them to push themselves harder than any of the other instructors with their bitching, nagging and torture-inspired abuse. The stories about the guy’s exploits might be exaggerated, but the records he held weren’t. He was the kind of SEAL Sam wanted to be.
“Gentlemen,” Sullivan said with an easy smile. “Two-hundred-forty started out together and twenty-three of you made it this far. Not bad for a bunch of pansies.”
He said it with a laugh that made pansy sound like king-of-the-freaking-hill. Sam knew he wasn’t the only man in formation to stick his chest out a little further and preen with pride. Especially when Sullivan singled them out to quote stats and offer congrats.
That’s how Sam would train his men someday.
It was easier to focus on that than on the waves of misery pounding through his aching muscles.
But he couldn’t deny that Dismissed was one of the sweetest words he ever heard.
He and twenty-two other men turned as one toward the barracks with the sound of the instructor’s words ringing out around them.
“Don’t forget. Phase Three isn’t finished until you pansy assed wusses limp through PST. Bet half of you get so soft over Christmas that you don’t even have the balls to come back and try.”
Sam exchanged eye rolls with his swim partner. Like they’d come this far only to fail their physical screening test because of a fat man’s holiday?
“Morelli.”
Despite his body’s aching protest, Sam stopped on a dime, spun on his heel to face Sullivan, clasped his hands behind his back and held his breath.
“Sir?”
“You managed to impress Green.”
Sam’s eyes cut to the instructor whose nicest comment in the last nine weeks had been something along the lines of, ‘You don’t wanna land on your pretty face, you better pick up those feet, you pansy-assed wuss.’
“Just trying to be someone special,” Sam said quietly, paraphrasing the saying he’d heard through BUD/S. When he became a SEAL, he’d spend every day working to be special. That’s what the job required.
Obviously getting it, Sullivan started toward the barracks, the tilt of his head telling Sam to come along.
“Your brother is a SEAL.”
Was that bad? What the hell had Noah done? Sam wanted to frown but managed a nod instead.
“You might want to check with him. I think you beat a few of his times.”
With that and a quick smile, Sullivan broke to the left, leaving Sam to continue toward the barracks, and then on to two weeks of the closest thing to freedom he’d tasted in six months. He climbed the short set of stairs that led to the long, narrow berthing unit. Even though he wasn’t officially off duty, all he had to do was grab his gear and head for the red-roofed building and catch his flight to San Diego. Which was close enough to off duty that he let himself relax.
As it often did when he wasn’t on duty, his mind filled with images of Bryanna. Damn, he had the hots for that pretty little blonde. Focused on the myriad of ways he’d like to say hello to her, he grabbed his already-packed gear, slapped a few backs and headed out. He knew a few guys would hang around, swapping stories, savoring their success.
But he wanted to get home.
Wanted to see Bryanna. To catch the look on her face when he told her how he’d done. Top of his freaking class, hooyah.
He knew he should probably tell his parents first, find a way to get word to his brother. But it’d been thoughts of Bryanna that’d got him through those rough nights. Days were fine. Days he could aim all his focus on the goal, put all his energy into not failing the drills, not giving up, just pushing through.
But nights... Oh man, the nights were rough. He’d realized they would be, but it turned out he’d been clueless just how rough. But then each morning he’d wake to realize another few guys had left. Quit, given up, hiding their shame in the dark of night. At first he’d sneered,
By the second night of Hell Week, he’d understood. Laying there, the body so worn it hurt to breathe, his muscles still vibrating protests against the abuse they’d been through, all he’d been able to do was think.
Think about the next day. About how much harder it would be. To wonder what they’d throw in next, those instructors with their determination to make recruits quit. To doubt that he could handle any more, could stand under the pressure.
There, in the dark, he’d wondered if he’d make it.
To distract himself from the doubts, to keep thoughts of quitting at bay, he’d thought about his girl.
Bryanna Spencer.
Prettiest cheerleader to ever do a C jump. A math whiz with big blue eyes and a body that’d damn near got his ass kicked when her big brother notice him checking it out. Since Eli Spencer was a big motherfucker and Sam had only been sixteen, he’d taken the threat to stay the hell away from her to heart.
For a while.
Then, a few weeks after her nineteenth birthday, he’d decided that four years of resisting was long enough. Already in the Navy, heading for his first combat deployment, he hadn’t seen any reason to deny himself the taste of those full lips of hers. But a taste was all he’d planned when he’d pulled her out of a party. A goodbye kiss.
His good intentions hadn’t stood a chance against the heat Bryanna Spencer generated.
And during those vicious nights of Hell Week, his doubts and fears hadn’t stood a chance against her memory. All he’d had to do was focus on Bryanna. To let his memories, his thoughts, his desire for her carry him past the pain and into the call of exhaustion where he’d drift into sleep.
He’d see his parents in a day or so. He’d touch base with Noah eventually.
But his reward to himself for kicking ass?
His reward was Bryanna.
Bryanna Spencer wanted Sam Morelli like nobody’s business. He as a man th
at inspired addiction. Something she was well versed in.
She figured it’d taken twenty-three years, but she’d come up with compromises in her life that balanced out that addictive side of her personality. She could say no to her chocolate cravings, except for See’s. She’d learned to control her craving for shoes, except of course ones designed by the shoe Gods. And after years of working off every mad, sad or bad mood by burning up her credit cards, she’d learned to walk to the nearby mall instead of drive. She still got her shopping fix in, but she’d limited it to whatever she could carry on the return walk home.
She regularly patted herself on the back for being so savvy and clever to have figured it all out.
But the one thing she couldn’t—wouldn’t—get over was Sam Morelli. She was so seriously hooked on the taste of that tasty man. He was better than nibbling on a chocolate covered caramel candies and a handful of comfort carbs while shopping a killer sale at Jimmy Choos. All rolled into one sexy, tempting package of sexy manhood.
She’d been craving sweet Sam for as long as she could remember and had finally started nibbling on him two years ago. Sure, being in the Navy, Sam was gone as often as he was around. But when he was in port they made up for lost time.
And she had no intention of stopping.
No matter what.
Wishing she didn’t feel like there was a clock behind her, mocking with every tock, Bryanna set the scene.
Her fingers trembled just once as she lit the tapers on the dresser and the fat pillar on the nightstand before setting flame to the wicks of the tea lights lining her windowsill. She smoothed the velvet throw at the foot of her four-poster bed, tilted her head to the side to study the effect of the lush blue against the pale silver comforter and white satin sheets.
Elegant, she decided, letting out a shaky breath. The scents of vanilla and mulberry filled the room, soothing her nerves.
Careful not to chip her freshly polished nails, she wedged her iPod into the loose connection of the speaker dock and selected the playlist she’d created with tonight in mind. Ballads, for the most part, with a few holiday tunes mixed in.
Then, because the bed was so elegantly made, she started fussing with the towels in the bathroom, then tweaking the bedroom curtains this way and that so they’d let the moonlight shine through later.