Cover of Night

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Cover of Night Page 8

by Laura Griffin


  Don’t think about it, Karly told herself. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. But she couldn’t help it, and tears burned her eyes as she popped open the Coke.

  “Karly.”

  She glanced up, and her stomach clenched. Ethan had that look again.

  “Honey, you look like you’re about to faint.”

  “This is a bad idea,” she said. “I can’t sleep with you. I’m sorry.”

  His brow furrowed. “Why are you sorry?”

  “I know I gave you the impression I wanted to. I thought we could talk, and then . . . I don’t know. I don’t know what I thought.”

  “It’s okay.”

  She stared at him.

  “Really. We can hang out and talk or drink or do whatever you want.” He smiled. “Or not. You can tell me to take a hike if you’d rather be alone.”

  “No.”

  His eyebrows tipped up.

  “I mean . . . that’s not it. I don’t want to be alone.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. I really want to talk to you. You’re the only person I can stand to even look at right now. I just feel like, I don’t know, I’m wasting your shore leave or something.” She huffed out a breath. “If you want to go, I totally understand.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  She gazed at him for a long moment, trying to read his expression. Was he really okay with this?

  He picked up the ice tongs and dropped several chunks into her glass. Then he filled the rest with Coke and handed it to her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He walked to the balcony and peered out. “Wow, nice view.” He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Your company is paying for all this?”

  She huffed out a breath, part laughter and part relief at the change of subject. “Um, no. This is all Tony. Ambassador Mancuso. He insisted.”

  Ethan opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the balcony. The city lights sparkled, and the traffic noise six floors down was a distant hum.

  He set his drink on a short wooden table and leaned his forearms on the railing. Karly felt a pang of unease as she stared through the plexiglass wall separating him from the abyss.

  He turned to look at her. “Uh-oh. You look green again.”

  She stepped over the threshold. “I can’t get that close. I’m not a fan of heights.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” She sank into a chair beside the door. “From here, it’s okay. Looking straight out. But looking down? No, thanks.”

  He smiled and took the chair beside her. “I’m guessing you haven’t been out here before now?”

  “No.”

  Karly sipped her drink and gazed out at the skyline. Beyond all the buildings, the bay shimmered under another big moon. She recalled how the moon had looked peeking through the palm trees on the island. Had it really been less than two days ago?

  She saw that Ethan was watching her closely.

  “You want to go inside?” he asked.

  “No, it’s nice out here. I like the breeze.” She crossed her ankles and looked out. “And the view.” And not being so close to that king-size bed.

  She felt his gaze on her, but she pretended to be absorbed with the scenery.

  “See that cluster of lights, due north of us?” he asked.

  “Where?”

  He leaned closer and pointed, and she followed the line of his arm.

  “There’s the tower and then all those smaller dots of light? That’s the airport. Then this way”—he moved his arm—“that’s Intramuros, where we were. And southeast of us is the American Cemetery. Largest number of U.S. World War II graves in the world.”

  “How far is that?”

  “A couple of miles. It’s worth a visit, if you like history.”

  She looked at him. “You really know your way around. You spend a lot of time here?”

  “Some,” he said vaguely, and she remembered she’d read about renewed cooperation between American and Philippine military forces. Maybe that was how he’d picked up the language.

  They leaned back in their chairs and gazed up at the sky. He didn’t want to talk about his work, evidently. Fair enough. His missions were probably top secret, or at least classified. But she was burning to know more about him.

  “So . . . I guess you’re overseas pretty often, huh?”

  He shrugged. “We move around.”

  Quiet settled over them as she looked up at the moon. It felt nice to sit beside him in the dimness, even if he didn’t want to talk. She could understand his reluctance to answer questions. If the other night was any indication, his work was extreme. Most outsiders probably wouldn’t understand. Unless they’d seen it for themselves, as she had.

  She was once again struck by his strong features. In profile, his face looked like a sculpture. And then there were those broad shoulders. She’d always had a thing for shoulders.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Just thinking.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at her, and she felt a rush of heat as he took a sip of his drink.

  “Lately, it’s been more mountains,” he said, setting the drink down. “As opposed to islands.”

  So he was going to share after all. It wasn’t much. In fact, it was pretty damn vague, but she’d take it. She didn’t want to let this opportunity go by without learning everything she could about Ethan Dunn. He’d saved her life, and she somehow knew that she was going to be thinking about him for years to come.

  She’d been sure she’d never see him again. Why would she? And she’d told herself it was for the best, that she needed to put this experience behind her, along with this weird attachment she had for him. She’d been prepared to do that, or at least to try.

  And now here he was, beside her on her hotel balcony, and the rush of being near him was making her feel buzzed. He smiled slightly, as though they had a shared secret.

  “Which do you like better?” she asked.

  “Islands, definitely. We train for everything. SEAL stands for Sea Air Land, but water’s my preference.”

  “So . . . you became a SEAL because you like water?”

  “That was one reason.”

  She waited for more, but he clammed up again.

  She studied him in the dimness, taking in the confident way he talked, the so very male way he leaned back in his chair. There was something about his shape, his build . . . And then it hit her.

  “Oh my God, you’re a swimmer.”

  He looked at her.

  “You are, aren’t you? I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

  “See what?”

  “You’re a competitive swimmer. I can tell just by looking at you.”

  He picked up his drink again with a hint of self-consciousness that told her she was right on the money.

  “How far did you go?”

  “I swam for NC State,” he told her. “Our relay team was all-American. But I tore a hamstring my junior year, decided to set my sights on some new goals. After graduation, I joined the Navy.”

  She smiled at him, pleased with herself to have guessed something about him.

  He cut a glance at her. “How’d you know?”

  “It’s obvious.”

  “How?”

  She shrugged. “Takes one to know one.”

  “What, you too?”

  “UCLA. All four years.”

  “Damn. That explains the two kilometers.”

  “The what?”

  “I mapped it,” he said. “From the fishing pier to the leeward side of the island where you came ashore is two kilometers, minimum. You swam all that way and then came in over volcanic rocks. I’m surprised your feet weren’t cut to pieces.”

&n
bsp; “They were.”

  “It’s impressive.”

  “Right.”

  “It’s true.” He nodded. “I told Jake, and he didn’t believe me at first. Every last one of my teammates thought I was making it up.”

  He’d been talking to his teammates about her? She supposed it wasn’t surprising, given that she was part of their mission. What did surprise her was that she’d managed to impress a team of SEALs.

  She settled back against her chair and stared up at the moon. She took a deep breath and felt the knot in her chest loosening. The tension that had gripped her since the moment she’d watched Brad and Brianna being mowed down by gunfire was starting to dissipate.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and said a silent prayer for them.

  “Karly?”

  She looked at him.

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “When you get back home, you need to see someone.”

  “Someone?”

  “About what happened to you.”

  “Oh.” She looked away.

  “Hey,” he said, and she met his gaze again. “Don’t blow me off. It’s important that you talk to someone.”

  “I’m talking to you.”

  “You know what I mean. Someone professional.”

  She looked out at the skyline, battling emotions she hadn’t expected to feel tonight. She felt anger bubbling up, which wasn’t fair. He was trying to help.

  “Do you talk to someone professional when you get back from a mission?”

  He tensed. “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “I have my team. And we’re trained for . . . the job we do.”

  She turned to look at him, and for the first time since he’d lifted her off her feet and pulled her into the woods and promised to rescue her, she felt like she was talking to a real man and not a superhero. Did he ever have nightmares? Insomnia? Did he ever remember people dying and feel utterly numb, like he was recalling a video game and not something that had happened in real life?

  There was something wrong with her, she knew. And the fact that she still hadn’t shed a single tear disturbed her.

  Ethan took her hand, and she felt a jolt of heat as he squeezed her fingers. His palm was big and warm, and his touch steadied her, as it had back on the island.

  “I know how you’re feeling,” he said.

  Her throat tightened, and she choked on a laugh. “How?”

  “I get that way, too, sometimes. It sucks. But the thing is . . . it gets better over time.”

  She swallowed and glanced down at their hands. What was he talking about? PTSD? She knew all about it—she’d even written an article once about how it affected firefighters in California. But it wasn’t something she’d dealt with in her own life.

  “Talk to someone.”

  The genuine concern in his eyes melted her heart.

  “Promise me.”

  “Fine, okay.” She turned to face the view again, but she didn’t tug her hand away. It felt too nice wrapped in his. He rested her hand on his thigh, which should have seemed like some kind of opening move. But it didn’t. It seemed natural. She closed her eyes and let the night breeze surround her.

  It was okay now.

  She was alive.

  Ethan’s hand around hers had a calming effect, and again she felt the anxiety draining away. She wanted to stay here all night.

  “I should go.”

  She looked at him, alarmed. “Why?”

  “You need to sleep.” He paused. “I’m guessing you didn’t get much last night?”

  “I was too wound up.”

  He nodded. “Me, too.”

  “Don’t go.” She turned to face him, brushing his knees with hers. Even through her dress, she could feel his heat.

  “I shouldn’t—”

  She cut him off with a kiss. He pulled back, startled, but then she took his face in her hands and brought him back.

  He tasted better than she remembered, all tangy and masculine. As she slid into his lap, he moaned against her mouth.

  That was all the encouragement she needed to glide her hands around his neck and comb her fingers into his short hair and kiss him like she never wanted to stop. He didn’t, either—she could tell from his mouth. And from the way he gripped her hips, digging his fingertips into her soft flesh. She shifted to straddle him, letting her dress slide up, and he groaned in protest even as he moved to help her get her balance.

  God, she was on his lap, pressing against him as he kissed her deeply. His lips and his tongue and his hands were setting her on fire, bringing heat and need and emotion roaring back to life inside her.

  He slid his hands to her breasts, and she sat up taller, not caring that her knees were digging into the chair. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples through the fabric and said something against her neck as she kissed his cheek, his jaw, his chin. The rasp of stubble against her skin made her feel even more alive.

  Karly eased back, watching him, encouraged by the heated look in his eyes as she reached up to untie her halter. She let the fabric fall.

  “Jesus.” He sat back, holding her hips as his gaze dropped to her bare breasts. “Karly—”

  She didn’t let him finish. She kissed him. He’d been about to make some excuse to leave—she could tell from his tone. And it was probably her fault for giving him so many mixed signals. She’d confused everything that should have been simple, and now he felt some obligation to back off. But she wouldn’t let him.

  There was nothing confusing about how she felt now. She wanted him. Desperately. And the hot slide of his mouth over her neck told her he wanted her, too. And then his hands were on her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples as she ground herself against him.

  He let out a curse, his breath warm against her skin. But then he gently pushed her back, and his eyes were swimming with conflict.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said.

  He stared at her.

  “Please?”

  He darted a look over his shoulder at the glass door and beyond, where a lamp glowed beside the rumpled bed. He looked at her again.

  “Are you sure? Because if we go in there together, it’s going to be damn near impossible for me to—”

  “I’m sure.” She kissed him to make her point, and for an endless moment, it was only her kissing him as she waited for him to decide. She pressed against his erection, and he pulled back from her again. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

  “Hold on,” he said, and before she knew what he was doing, she was up and out of the chair. She wrapped her legs around his waist and caught a heart-stopping glimpse over the balcony as he pulled the door open and stepped inside, clutching her against him with only one arm. He slid the door shut and carried her to the bed, where he gently laid her down.

  She reached up to stroke her fingers over his stubble. He kicked off his sandals and leaned over her, resting his weight on his elbow, and his muscles rippled. She reached for the hem of his T-shirt. He helped her pull it over his head and flung it away.

  Holy . . . wow. She bit her lip, speechless. She’d known he was muscular, but this . . . She stroked her hands over his shoulders and let her gaze linger on the rock-hard abs she’d felt earlier as she’d clung to him and ridden around the city on the motorcycle.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said.

  She smiled. “I was going to say the same about you.”

  He gave her a wary look as he leaned over to kiss her forehead. He found the spot just below the bump where he’d said she’d have a scar, and she felt an unexpected surge of tenderness. Then he reached behind her and gently tugged the rubber band loose from her ponytail. He spread her hair across the pillow, and it looked gold in the lamplight.

  His gaze moved over her, and she love
d the fire in his eyes as he cupped her breast and dipped his head down. He pulled her nipple into his mouth, and a bolt of need shot through her. His mouth was hot and avid, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it as his hand slid over her abdomen.

  “I’ve been dying to do this,” he said against her skin.

  “You have?”

  He looked up at her. “Since the second I saw you.”

  She smiled at him, and a sweet, warm tingle filled her as he teased her with his tongue. But the sweetness turned to nerves as his hands glided over her, pushing the dress down her hips and legs until all she had left was a scrap of pink silk. Then he moved back up and kissed her mouth again, resting his palm on her thigh, and the heavy warmth of it drove her crazy. She shifted and squirmed until he finally slid his hand between her legs. It felt wonderful there. So good. And she kissed him deeper to let him know how much she liked it as he touched her through the silk, teasing her and tormenting her as she moved her hips. Then he slid her panties off, baring her completely.

  The burning look in his eyes made her both shy and eager, and she went up on her knees to reach for his zipper. He backed away, and she knelt there, naked and watching as he shucked his clothes and stood in front of her, and the raw desire on his face made her feel giddy.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling her up so she was closer to eye level.

  He kissed her again, pressing her into him, flattening her breasts against the wall of his chest, his erection heavy against her. His hands skimmed over her, sending shivers along her skin, and she tried to get her head around the fact that she was here, in her hotel room with him, in her bed with him, doing all the things she’d fantasized about since they’d first met. He’d appeared here so suddenly and would disappear just as suddenly—and the thought sent a cold trickle down her spine.

  But then his hand slid between her legs, and she held on to his shoulders and let her head fall back as he explored her body. And she didn’t want to think, only to feel. She loved this moment. She loved the decadence of being touched by him and desired by him, and she let him unleash all the pent-up needs she’d kept locked deep inside her for so long.

  “So hot,” he said, kissing her neck.

  She brought his head up to kiss him, and before she knew it, she was on her back, looking up at him as he settled between her legs.

 

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