He had to say – he might be addicted to the expression she wore when she wasn’t expecting some gesture of intimacy. He liked to kiss her or touch her when she least expected it – just to see her wide-eyed, flushed visage. The woman was incredibly intense most of the time, but when he’d just finished with her – when they lay, panting, against one another in the bed, he could do nothing but admire her sated, lovely smile.
She had gotten under his skin.
At a time in his life when he had believed it perilously dangerous to let anyone close, she had taught him otherwise – and the realization was slightly overwhelming.
One night, when his nightmares woke him, he sat up, turning to the woman beside him. It was on the tip of his tongue to wake her – to speak on the things that haunted him – but the sight of her tucked against him, nestled into a mound of pillows, gave him immediate pause.
When her eyes were closed in slumber, the stress of her day disappeared. Her lush lips were parted, her breathing soft, her body gloriously nude and giving against him. As he’d imagined on the day they met, he could now see the contrast between the dark, gentle swell of her hip and his paler, muscular thigh. To his surprise, it roused not only lust in him, but something more primal.
An urge to protect.
To keep her happy. To keep her near. Somehow, the woman who had once been his greatest frustration had transformed into something of an obsession for him. He’d grown addicted to what she did to him – and for him.
The last time Sean has casually mentioned returning to active duty, he’d actually paused to think about the request. Genevieve had once mentioned to him that she thought it might not be the best idea. That it might be a goal to keep in mind, but not until he was absolutely ready.
And so, he’d told Sean he would think about it.
To say the man had been shocked would have been a bit of an understatement. Shaking his head, he’d looked over Owen, marveling at the change in him.
To be honest, he was a bit shocked in the change himself. Now, it wasn’t a question of getting better. It was a question of what would happen between him and Genevieve when he did.
Chapter Seven: Betrayal
“You have to be kidding me.”
Owen grinned at Genevieve’s incredulous expression. Just the previous week she’d commented on the lovely fall weather – and commented that they didn’t do enough outdoors. Now, she was squawking at his choice of activity.
Mind you, he hadn’t expected her to come easily.
Genny looked from him to the sniper rifle he held in his hands, her eyes wide. Since their first shooting session, they’d gone twice more, and during their third session, when he’d managed to tear his eyes away from the curve of her behind clenching as she fired, he’d realized that her father’s teachings had done what most men couldn’t learn in a lifetime.
They’d made her naturally good with a gun.
Who was to say he couldn’t teach her how to shoot a sniper rifle?
He was sure the weapon looked intimidating. It was long, heavy, and carried a lot of power. They would start slow. He had trusted her to bring him from the dark place he’d once been entrenched in. She could trust him to teach her this.
Genevieve took in the length of the weapon once more, her eyes glinting with apprehension. “I can’t handle that thing, Owen. I can barely handle a pistol.”
“You’re being damn modest – and that’s an understatement.” Gently, he stepped forward to tug the pistol lightly from her grip to set on the table beside them. He held up the unloaded sniper rifle before her apprehensive gaze. “You’d be a good sniper. We’ll go step by step. I’ll help you. I promise.”
Genny opened her mouth, and he could see the protest on the tip of her tongue. “Trust me.” He cut her off firmly, giving her a reassuring smile. “Do you really think I’d let you hurt yourself?” He glanced around at the other soldiers on the range, a portion of whom were eying them with no little amount of interest. “It would make me look bad.”
The young woman rolled her eyes at his bravado, reluctantly taking the gun from him. Almost immediately, her eyes widened as she tried to heft the weight of the gun in her arms. Owen stepped forward to wrap his arms around her, tightening and correcting her grip. “Like this.” He murmured lowly in her ear, straightening her arm atop the gun before forcing her supporting arm to relax. “When you shoot a sniper rifle, the gun is always supported against something, so you won’t be hefting all this weight yourself.”
He forced himself to shut out the divine feel of her curves sliding against him as he pressed his body against hers, helping her heft the gun onto the nearby table. “Is that better?”
She nodded curtly and he helped her maneuver around so that the gun was pointed at the target. “Now…this gun is going to give you a lot of kickback, so let the way you hold it reflect that. If you’re not careful, she can give you a black eye.” He tapped the scope atop the gun. “This is your scope. Sniper rifles can be accurate at up to two kilometers, so a lot is going to affect your shot. Wind speed, how fast the target is moving, even your breathing. This is why you want to inhale, and hold that breath while you’re shooting. It will make the shot more accurate.” He released the gun with one hand to splay his fingers over her stomach. “What you want to do is find your target, inhale deeply, and hold it.” He pressed on her stomach to give her impetus to take a breath.
Genevieve did as he said, tightening her abdomen as she took a deep breath in. “Then, you’re still while you shoot. Concentrate on nothing else but the target. If you can feel it, ten to one the bullet will find its mark.” He smirked as she continued to hold her breath. “You can release now, Genny.”
Her cheeks flushed as she did what he asked, before looking over her shoulder at him inquiringly. “That’s it?”
“Mostly.” He replied honestly. Of course, there was an inherent skill that came with being a sniper rifleman. She would have to practice if she wanted to be any good at all; but if Genny put the same dedication into this practice as she did into everything else she endeavored to do, he might soon have to worry about the range record he’d set. She would have to practice if she wanted to be any good at all; but if Genny put the same dedication into this practice as she did into everything else she endeavored to do, he might soon have to worry about the range record he’d set.
“So, are you ready to try it with ammo?”
The young woman’s lips curved upward. She’d gone from being distinctly intimidated to excited. Her eyes gleamed as she nodded, and in that moment, he thought she was the spitting image of her father in his prime.
When Genevieve had told him who she was…when he’d realized that he was meeting the daughter of one of the Vietnam War’s unsung heroes, he couldn’t deny that she had only intrigued him more. He was loathe to talk to her about the man, knowing he’d taken his own life, but Genny had told him very plainly that her father was the primary reason that she’d become a Vet psychiatrist. She never wanted another soldier to suffer the way that he did – not if she could help them. She’d devoted her entire life to making sure Vets felt healthy, whole, and wanted – that they knew their country cared for their well-being.
She herself cared deeply for every patient she took on…and he tried to tell himself that what was between them was different. Over the past few months, he’d grown decidedly attached to the psychiatrist he’d once intended to drum out of his life.
Perhaps too attached.
But he couldn’t be bothered to worry about such things now. For the first time since he’d known the young woman, she’d taken the entire day off to spend with him at his insistence. He would teach her the rudiments of working with a sniper rifle, and then afterwards, they would have lunch at one of his favorite sandwich spots. Perhaps when they were done they’d take Eddie out for a walk, and after that…they’d need some cleaning up. It was high time he acted on some of the fantasies he’d had about Genevieve in the shower…
&nb
sp; All at once, there was a commotion over by the main entryway. Owen helped Genevieve to lower the weapon she held before he turned around to see Sean – his captain – striding alongside Captain Ryce as they entered the enclosure. The two appeared in deep conversation, Sean’s brow furrowed as he spoke to the captain in low tones. Sean was supposed to be on leave – which meant he shouldn’t be anywhere near the base.
His appearance couldn’t mean anything good.
He froze when his CO’s gaze rose to meet his own, his expression solemn. The two officers immediately began towards him, and Genevieve looked questioningly from him to them and back again. Soldiers scrambled out of the way as the two men made their way forward, and, all at once, they came to a stop before the station Owen was using with Genevieve. “Good morning, Genny.” Captain Ryce shot the young woman a brief, small smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You as well, as always, captain.” She held her hand out for the man to shake, and Owen respected her decorum in front of Sean. The man was a stickler for rules when he was on duty. It was he who had ensured that every regulation was followed – that SEALs didn’t die recklessly.
This was another thing that Owen was slowly coming to terms with – just how little power he, or any man had – in preventing what had happened to his men. Every precaution had been taken. Fate had just bitten them in the ass in a big way. “Genevieve.” Sean nodded in respect before his voice lowered. “Sorry to interrupt your session, but could we please speak with the Lieutenant in private?”
Genevieve arched a brow, but said nothing. She merely nodded, grabbing her bag from the table before briefly meeting his gaze. Then, just like that, she was off towards the ammo counter to speak with the private manning the window.
Which left him alone with two commanding officers. Owen tried to read the poker expressions on each man’s face, failing miserably, before he finally opened his mouth to demand answers. Technically, he was retired. It was this that allowed him to ask what an enlisted man couldn’t. “What’s going on here, sir?”
“Owen.” Sean’s voice held not the slightest tinge of humor when he spoke. “There’s been a development in Fallujah. We know you’re not an enlisted man anymore, but seeing as how it deals directly with what happened to your team, we’ve decided to allow you access to the information…if that’s what you want.”
Owen felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.
Fallujah.
Sean was implying that they’d received intel on the group that had cut down his men – that had tortured him and his team and driven them to the edge of sanity. The cell of outlaws had all but disappeared in the wake of the incident, and it had added to Owen’s guilt that he thought he might not ever encounter them again.
Never be able to return the favor they had paid his unit.
He stared at Sean, taking deep breaths as Genevieve had taught him to steady himself. Every muscle in his body felt taught, and it was as if his blood turned from ice to fire in the space of a few seconds.
He errantly remembered what Genevieve had told him about returning to active duty. That it might not be a good idea for the immediate future, but a long-term goal. He had agreed at the time, but if what Sean was offering was a chance for him to avenge those who had been killed – murdered in cold blood…
That was an opportunity he couldn’t refuse.
He glanced off to where Genny was conversing with the private at the ammo counter. She would be upset if she discovered what he was contemplating, but she would have to understand. This could help him.
It could ease the guilt that had been seared into his mind.
“Tell me. Tell me everything.”
**
Genevieve was working late.
Not so seldom an occurrence with her – especially with all the paperwork she had to file on Owen’s progress. However, where the stack of forms had once been her most dreaded chore, over the past few months she’d come to anticipate writing about Owen’s particular case.
He was making progress.
After they’d been at odds for almost six weeks, he’d finally begun to open up to her. The man had begun to come into the office – to speak to her in low, halting tones as he tried to put words to the way he felt about the emotions warring within him.
And it had all begun the night she’d given herself to him.
Of course, at the time, Genevieve had done it as an act of trust. She would trust him with her body if only he’d entrust her with his mind. Slowly, surely, what was between them had become so much more than that.
She had thought that she could detach herself from his treatment completely. That everything she was doing she did for him alone.
How quickly she’d been proved wrong.
Genevieve was a woman who had let her work consume her. Everyone in the office, Stella more than most, commented on her lack of a social life. How she never took time off for herself. The vacation she’d taken just before she’d met Owen had been the first of her career – and she hadn’t planned on taking another one.
Owen pushed her outside of her comfort zone. He demanded that she make time for them to do things outside of the office; and when said things started to progress beyond merely sleeping together, Genny had slowly but surely found herself beginning to enjoy the time they spent. Once she'd gotten over how Owen made her knees weak every time his low baritone drifted through her consciousness, she’d discovered that she liked going to dinner with him. Enjoyed when he showed her his favorite places to take Eddie for walks, and indeed, how he’d trained the gentle giant.
Sometimes, they just wasted evenings in his house, planted in front of his television as he attempted to teach her the rules of the sports he watched. Others, he took her to barbecues at Captain Sean Morales’ house, where she met his fiery wife, and eventually, the women became companions of a sort.
Gina seemed to understand uniquely the tough time Owen faced trying to ease back into society stateside. After all, her own husband was an active duty SEAL. She comprehended what it was like to watch someone you loved leave you without ever knowing if they would return.
Gina had told Genevieve multiple times what a good man Owen was – a good man with a big heart. He just needed help finding himself again – and Captain Morales’ brand of tough love, while well-intentioned, wasn’t quite doing the job. Owen needed a softer touch, Gina suggested. A woman’s touch.
Indeed, Owen seemed to react to her general presence almost as much as he did to the treatment she gave him. It was becoming more and more apparent with each passing day that one could not exist without the other. As much as he needed her to banish his mental demons, he also needed her by his side to soften his rougher edges.
He wasn’t such a surly monster when she was around. He growled less, glared less – tolerated things he normally wouldn’t. While some of the things she asked him to do during treatment still routinely frustrated him, the time it took him to cool down became less and less.
She thought that within the year, he might be able to see her professionally much less often than he was now. Once a month would be sufficient. The man was making admirable progress – overcoming hurdles that he hadn’t been able to before. However, it would still take time for him to be able to stand on his own two feet.
Time, Genevieve realized, was dwindling before her eyes.
She now had less than a month to prove that the man was ready to return to active duty – when she knew that he wasn’t. It was either that, or lose her job. And if she did that, they would shuffle the man back into duty anyway, and there would be nothing she could do about it.
When Owen wasn’t by her side, Genevieve found herself more and more nervous about her approaching deadline. He wasn’t ready. A man with trauma like his needed to be able to handle himself outside of the office effectively before he could even be considered for missions of the caliber he was used to.
If he returned…it could potentially set him back months – perhaps even e
rase all the progress they had made.
And she couldn’t stand to imagine him that way.
When she had come to Owen on the night they had first made love, she had seen a broken man. One with no faith in himself, or the life he led. It had tugged at her heartstrings not only professionally, but also in a very personal way. It wasn’t about seeing her patient suffer…it was about seeing a man she’d come to care for very much slide down a path from which there was no return.
Watching the improvements that he’d made…she couldn’t remember ever feeling so elated. Every time he smiled at her, every time he laughed – her heart skipped a beat. As attached as he’d become to her, she had also begun to crave his company in return.
To need him beside her.
When he was with her, she momentarily forgot all her deadlines. Forgot the war she waged with her supervisor and forgot that she was supposed to be the foundation upon which her patients rested their hopes and dreams. When she was with him, she was just Genevieve – someone she hadn’t been in a very, very long time.
Of course, the only other person she’d admitted this to was Stella. While, at first, her friend had been rightfully hesitant about her budding relationship with her patient, as she watched how Owen had begun to liberate Genevieve from the shell she’d always been wrapped in, she began to encourage her companion.
“He’s what you need just as much as you’re what he needs.” The redhead had once told Genny with a wide grin. “And lucky you for meeting him before you buried yourself in paperwork for all eternity.”
Unfortunately, Stella didn’t know about the conditions Kant had placed on Owen’s treatment. That, Genevieve had decided to keep to herself – and it was eating her alive. The more time passed – the more of her heart Owen stole from her – the more she was compelled to tell him about the conspiracy surrounding his recovery. Surely, he understood that his returning to active duty before he was ready could be devastating not only for him, but for everyone under his command. If he lost his cool – if he forgot how to handle himself under pressure…the slightest trigger could cost him everything.
Saving the Seal: A BWWM Navy Seal Interracial Romance Page 10