by Tawny Weber
Was this Chief Petty Officer Ward? she wondered. Oh please, oh please, oh please, let it be, she chanted under her breath. Her imagination soared at the idea of spending time with this man. Anything from interviewing him to licking her way over his body to having his baby appealed at the moment.
Bryanna was a firm believer in love at first sight. So much so that she’d spent most of her adult life hoping to experience it. As a deep sigh of longing swelled in her chest, all she could think was wow, this would be the perfect guy to experience it with.
With every step he took, the man got better looking.
As he drew closer, Bryanna searched. But she couldn’t see a single flaw to keep her lust in check.
Yowza.
His short, spiked hair was the color of polished oak and his skin a dusky gold, as if he’d spent the weekend on the beach. His body... Oh, his body. Broad shoulders were hugged close by the soft blue cotton of his long-sleeved tee. The shirt molded to a muscular chest, tapering down his slender waist to tuck into jeans draped over tight hips and strong thighs. The glint of a chain around his neck and the smooth leather of his watchband finished the look.
She suddenly felt overdressed in her black pencil skirt with its ruffled hem and high slit at the calf and her white silk blouse. But when she’d picked out her outfit, she’d been thinking about business. Not about finding her perfect man.
Mr. Perfect, or Officer Perfect in this case, tapped the waitress on the shoulder. Her stomach did a little dance of delight when Lila gestured toward Bryanna, then it slid into her toes as the man smiled his thanks. Oh, God. What a smile. His entire face lit up.
Despite sudden, rarely felt nerves, Bryanna got to her feet as he headed her way.
She could see the interest in his eyes, hot admiration that made her want to preen with delight. More, it made her want to reciprocate. She’d like to skim her hand over those biceps, to squeeze tight and find out if they were as hard, as solid, as they appeared. Was his skin warm or cool? Smooth or work-roughened? There were so many questions running through her head that she had to take a second to sort them out.
Some, the sexy ones that involved wondering how he looked naked, she set aside.
For now.
Others, a multitude of others that revolved around her assignment, her career, her goal, those she forced herself to bring front and center. It helped to picture her uncle’s face, that formidable glare of his heavy with expectations. With that, and a deep breath, she was ready. Thankfully, Bryanna prided herself on her ability to multitask. So she figured she might find a way to pull a few of those sexier thoughts to the forefront while she worked through the rest. If she found the right opportunity.
In the meantime, she had a job to do. “Ms. Radisson?”
“Hi, yes. I’m Bryanna. Bryanna Radisson. You must be Aaron, right? Chief Petty Officer Ward? We’re going to talk about all things Navy, SEALs and Poseidon, right?”
His smile didn’t shift, and she could still see the interest in his eyes. But something in his expression told her that he didn’t want to talk about any of those things. Not because he’d rather discuss the two of them getting naked together—although she was pretty sure he’d be happy to converse about that at length. But because he didn’t want anything to do with her project.
Why? Bryanna’s easy smile slipped a little. Didn’t he think she was qualified?
People tended to judge her by her beauty, sultry and exotic, and her personality, bubbly and outgoing. It was rare that anybody bothered to look beyond the sexy packaging or friendly chatter to realize that she was also savvy, smart and ambitious.
Bryanna never bothered wasting time blaming them. Why, when she could use their shortsightedness to her advantage? Not that she figured it’d be an issue with this man, she decided, her smile widening as she slid her hand into his.
Her breath caught in her chest, hot and tight. Need coiled in her belly with edgy fingers, wanting more, desiring satisfaction. If he could stir this much heat with simply a touch of their hands, what would happen if they got closer? Nakeder?
Bryanna felt her smile turn sultry as she gave him a flirtatious once-over.
“You are Aaron Ward, right? I admire—”
“Chief Petty Officer, or simply Chief Ward, actually,” he interrupted in a deep voice that did justice to that deliciously broad chest. “That’s my rating, or rank if that’s easier. In the Navy, we’re addressed by our rank.”
Oh. It wasn’t the words, so much as the tone that sent a spiral of disappointment curling through Bryanna’s belly. He was one of those. Well, she’d dealt with misogynistic chauvinists plenty of times before. Especially in the Navy. Sometimes she wondered if it was an enlistment requirement. It was probably too much to believe that such a gorgeous face and mouthwatering build would come with an open mind, too.
No big deal. She was here to gather information that’d help her write her article, Bryanna reminded herself. Not to score a hunky new hottie for her very own boy toy.
With that firmly in the forefront of her mind, she set aside her disappointment and slipped her hand from his, putting a little distance between her and temptation. Sitting again, she smoothed the snug fabric of her skirt over her knees and offered him the smile she used for pushy salespeople and head-patting repairmen. The one that oozed ice-cold pity.
* * *
“HMM, CHIEF PETTY OFFICER, did you say? That’d be an E-7 rating, one of the higher ranks an enlisted man can achieve in the Navy, right? Until they instituted the senior chief and master chief ranks in the late ’50s, of course.” She sipped her frozen lemonade and arched one brow. “Added to that, you’re a SEAL, which affords you the rating of Special Warfare Operator. Assigned to Coronado Naval Base, you serve primarily with SEAL Team 7, which is comprised of six platoons and is deployed worldwide.”
“You did your homework.” He pulled out the chair opposite hers and sat. But instead of looking impressed, or cowed—which had been her real goal—he smiled. And sent that spiral of heat swirling through Bryanna’s belly again.
Ignore it, she told herself. Pretend he’s cross-eyed, pockmarked and sin-ugly.
“No, that wasn’t homework, that was simple knowledge,” she corrected precisely. “A basic understanding of Naval ratings, duty assignments and deployment structure should be a necessary component of the position as a public affairs specialist, don’t you think?”
“I agree. Unfortunately, those basic qualifications don’t always make the cut when it comes to some things.” Before she could take offense, he smiled and leaned one elbow on the table. “I’m glad to see that’s not true in your case. So, Ms. Bryanna Radisson. Why don’t you tell me all about yourself?”
Uh-oh. Bryanna blinked as the full wattage of his smile flashed. Like the sun, it was warm and inviting, with just a hint of danger.
Heroic, sexy and charming?
If the man had a brain, she was in serious trouble.
Don’t miss
NIGHT MANEUVERS
by New York Times bestselling author
Tawny Weber
Available now from HQN Books.
www.Harlequin.com
Copyright © 2016 by Tawny Weber
ISBN-13: 9781488020025
Call to Redemption
Copyright © 2017 by Tawny Weber
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road,
Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com