HOT SEAL Target

by Lynn Raye Harris

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t let your heart overrule your head. Be the fucking SEAL you are and get this done.”

  “I will.”

  The call ended and Blade pocketed his phone. Quinn was standing in front of a display featuring fairy lanterns and flowers and gauzy fabric that made the whole thing look ethereal. She turned to him as he walked up, frowning.

  “Not elegant enough, right?”

  “Are you going for elegant?”

  “That’s what Hunter will want.”

  Fuck Hunter Halliday and his pretentious ass. Except that Blade didn’t want Quinn to do anything that might piss her husband off. “Then maybe something else, huh? Looks like something you’d find at a summer garden party.”

  She gaped at him for a second, then she laughed. “A summer garden party? Do you throw many of those?”

  He couldn’t help but grin. “In my copious spare time, yeah, I plan garden parties. I keep inviting the queen, but she won’t come.”

  Quinn’s smile was a thing of beauty. He found himself wanting to kiss her suddenly. And that was so shocking that he didn’t hear a word she said.

  “What? Sorry, I was thinking about something,” he added when she appeared to be waiting for an answer.

  She shook her head. “I asked what you like to serve at these garden parties. It was a joke, obviously.”

  “A joke?” He pretended to be shocked. “I take my garden parties very seriously, Quinn.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you do.” She turned back to the display and shook her head. “This won’t work. I need something that says Look at me, I’m so bloody rich I shit gold bricks.”

  Blade laughed. It was funny, but Quinn’s proper British accent made it even funnier. He turned to the salesgirl, who seemed to be somewhat confused at their rapid-fire English conversation as well as, no doubt, a few words she wasn’t familiar with. He told her in Chinese what Quinn wanted—without the vulgarities.

  The lines between her brow eased and she nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I understand. This way please.” She turned to walk away.

  Quinn was watching him. “What did you say?”

  “I told her what you want.” He held out a hand, indicating she should go first. “After you.”

  She started walking, but then she threw him a glance over her shoulder. “I didn’t think this would be fun. But it is. Thanks, Blade.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Guilt speared into him when he thought about what he was really here for. Except he wasn’t leaving her to deal with Hunter Halliday alone, so that was something of a comfort. “It’s part of the service, babe.”

  She stopped and turned. “Babe? Really? What am I, some random woman whose name you forgot?”

  He put a hand against her back and pushed her forward gently. “I could never forget you, Quinn. Not in a million years.”

  She didn’t want to go home. Quinn thought about returning to the luxury apartment she shared with Hunter and didn’t want to go. It was more fun to hang out with Blade. Walking through the mall, stopping in shops and picking out things for the party. And things for her. She needed a new outfit, so she’d gone into a few boutiques and tried things on.

  Blade stood like a hulk outside the dressing rooms, arms crossed in front him, scowl on his face, ready to deter anyone who might think to attack her. Not that anyone would, but it was nice to have Blade at the ready. Even if what he was really meant to do was prevent her from running.

  He was, but Hunter didn’t know they had a prior relationship and that Blade was more likely to favor her than he was Hunter. If push came to shove, she knew Blade was in her corner.

  She tried on a deep blue gown that clung to her curves and had a slit that went halfway up her thigh. It was sexy and clingy and just the sort of thing Hunter would approve of. She knew that, and yet she wanted to know if Blade approved. Not because she needed his approval, but because she craved it. How sad was that?

  “Can you give me an opinion on this one?” she asked from behind the dressing room door, her heart beating fast.

  He grunted. “Sure. But I’m not Tim Gunn, you know.”

  Quinn snorted. Of course she knew he wasn’t the Project Runway judge. “How do you even know who that is?”

  She could feel his hesitation. “You know, I have no fucking idea. It’s disturbing now that you mention it.”

  She laughed. Then she drew in a deep breath and pushed the door open, smoothing the shiny fabric as she did so.

  Blade’s gaze dropped to her feet, then slowly made its way up her calves, her thighs, her torso, her chest, her shoulders, finally landing on her face. He was scowling. Hard. Her heart skipped.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He sucked in a breath. “No. Not at all. You look amazing, Quinn.”

  She ran her hands nervously down her waist and over her hips. “Are you sure?”

  Because, though she thought she looked beautiful, there was that little voice in her head that insisted she could still lose a few pounds. That she had rolls of fat and she shouldn’t wear something so clingy. She hadn’t put on any weight since she’d stopped fitness modeling, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t gone to fat in areas since she no longer worked out as intensely as she once had.

  It was ridiculous, and yet the voice was there. Chipping away at her self-confidence like a relentless waterfall of negativity.

  “I’m sure,” Blade said. “Seriously, that dress should be illegal. It gives a man ideas.”

  Her heart soared and she lifted her head, her eyes locking with his. Her throat went dry. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

  “I mean it.”

  She couldn’t breathe. “Does it give you ideas, Adam?”

  His stare didn’t waver. “Yeah. It gives me ideas. Does that scare you?”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s pretty much my childhood fantasy come true. Adam Garrison, the hottest American in school, fantasizing about me.”

  “I was the only American in school,” he said, his voice containing a healthy dose of amusement.

  “Details,” she said softly. “Mere details.”

  “Quinn, you kill me.”

  “I always did. You couldn’t help but laugh at my jokes.”

  “True.” He jerked his chin at her. “You just about done? We need to get going.”

  Her heart fell. “Yes, I think so. This is the one. Unless you tell me otherwise.”

  “Oh no, it’s definitely the one. Sexy as fuck.”

  She went back into the dressing room, exhilaration rushing through her, and changed into her clothing, thinking about the deep timbre of his voice as he’d said the dress was sexy as fuck. She returned it to the hanger and emerged a few moments later to hand it to the salesgirl who appeared. The dress was designer and expensive, but she didn’t care.

  “This one, please,” she said.

  The girl beamed. “Yes, madam.”

  She didn’t even need to produce a credit card. That was one of the benefits of being superrich and well known in the shops. Her account would be automatically charged.

  The girl zipped the dress into a bag. “Thank you, madam. Will you take it now or should I send it over?”

  “Send it, please.” Because why carry a garment bag around when you didn’t need to? Especially for a dress that cost so much.

  They left the shop, and Quinn started to feel the weight of duty pressing down on her. She’d found the decorations. Picked a dress. There was nothing left to do.

  “You hungry?” Blade asked.

  She swung around to look at him, grasping at the straw he offered. The opportunity to stay out a little while longer. “I could eat.”

  He put his hand against the small of her back again. Her skin tingled. “I know some good places—or at least they were good when I lived here. We’d have to venture out a bit though. What do you say?”

  She gazed into his dark eyes and her heart skipped. “How far?”

&nbs
p; “Tai Po.”

  That was a little far from Kowloon, but she didn’t really care. The longer she got to stay away from home, the better. “Let’s go.”

  Maybe he was an idiot for venturing out so far, but he didn’t want to take Quinn home just yet. She didn’t want to go either. That much was clear. They made their way back to the entrance. He’d called the chauffeur, who rolled up as they emerged. He didn’t get out of the car, but Blade opened the door and held it for Quinn. Then he followed her inside.

  The driver waited expectantly. Blade gave him a direction in Chinese. The man merely nodded, then pressed the gas pedal and they were on the way. It took almost an hour, but soon they were pulling up in front of a market on a street in Tai Po. It was the kind of place where you had to walk in and find what you wanted. The chauffeur looked up and nodded at Blade. Blade swung the door open and held out a hand for Quinn. She took it and he helped her stand. Then he bent down and told the driver to pull around to a parking garage and wait.

  But then he thought better of it and asked the man if he wanted to join them instead of waiting.

  Dark eyes met Blade’s in the mirror. “Yes, that would be nice.”

  “Then park and meet us in the alley.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Not sir. Just Blade.”

  “Blade.”

  He drove away and Quinn stood in the street, gazing up at Blade. “What was that all about?”

  “I asked him to join us.”

  Her jaw dropped open. “But why?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do. He might be reporting to Hunter, but he won’t be reporting this. Because if he does, he’ll have to admit he joined us.”

  She shook her head. “He can lie. He doesn’t have to admit it at all.”

  “He’s not that kind of man, Quinn. He has a family. He has honor. He does what he does for pay, nothing more.”

  She gaped at him. “How do you know that?”

  “Experience.” It was true. He’d seen it a million times before. Men who did things they didn’t like because they needed the money. But they had honor and integrity anyway. He knew it because he’d read the dossier, which included Hunter Halliday’s employees, as much as was known about them. Li-Wu had an impeccable background. The chauffeur, Fai Kwan, wasn’t quite impeccable, but he had nothing major to condemn him. He’d been a part of a triad once, a bit player who had no influence and made no money.

  He also had a family—a wife, three sons, and hefty bills to support them all. He’d left the triad and gotten legitimate work. But spying for Hunter Halliday was too much of an incentive to be ignored. When Halliday wasn’t in town, Fai Kwan drove for other rich men. None of those seemed to pay him as much as Halliday did.

  “I hope you’re right,” she said, wringing her hands. “He could cause me a lot of trouble.”

  “He won’t. He’s coming to eat with us. Breaking bread with people is an important step.”

  She sighed. “God, I hope you’re right.”

  A few minutes later, Fai Kwan joined them. Blade led them into the market, deep into the alleys, until he found the food stand he was looking for. A man and woman ran the place, cooking dishes they’d learned from countless ancestors. The fire was hot and sizzling, the stools around the tables packed, and the atmosphere was nothing to write home about. But the food was definitely the star.

  Blade walked up to the counter and stood there. The woman turned and barked at him. What do you want?

  Blade replied that he wanted the best damned shrimp and chicken dumplings in all of China. The woman gasped and dropped the knife she’d been wielding. Then she came over and hugged him tight, throwing a stream of Cantonese at him. It was so rapid and intense that he thought someone who wasn’t raised in Hong Kong might have missed it all.

  Quinn stood by smiling but not understanding a word. Fai Kwan blinked rapidly as he took in the scene. Hui Yin, the female proprietor, showed them to a table nearby. Then she hugged Blade tight and admonished him for disappearing for so long.

  “Sit, sit. I’ll bring food quickly.”

  Blade held out a seat for Quinn, then took his own. Fai Kwan sat opposite them, his eyes wide as they roamed the street.

  “You ever come here?” Blade asked.

  “No. I’m from Yuen Long. I haven’t been here.”

  It would have been odd except that so many people could live within a couple of miles of interesting stuff and never get there, no matter where they lived in the world. It was the nature of people that they stuck to their grooves.

  “Then prepare for the best dumpling you’ve ever had,” Blade said.

  Fai Kwan suddenly grinned. “I won’t tell my grandmother you said that.”

  The food arrived shortly after and they dug in. For Blade, it was like being transported back to childhood. He’d spent many hours roaming the streets, exploring, and eating as many varieties of dishes as he could find. But this stall had the best dumplings he’d ever tasted.

  And it still did. The food was perfectly prepared, flavorful, and delicious. Quinn looked happy as she ate, though he noted that she was careful how much she consumed. Fai Kwan looked stunned at first and then pleased. Blade was just pleased. Hui Yin came over to talk when she could. Her husband had always been taciturn and focused on business, but even he stopped to say hello.

  “Where have you been, boy?” Hui Yin asked.

  “Everywhere. I joined the US Navy, and I travel a lot.”

  “You find dumplings as good as mine in your travels?” Her eyes gleamed and he laughed.

  “No, ma’am,” he said. “Not possible.”

  She squeezed his arm. “Good answer.”

  “So you came here often, I take it,” Quinn said when Hui Yin walked away.

  Blade nodded. “I did. My parents were busy, and when I was about ten, I started going places on my own. I think I found this food stall when I was around twelve.”

  “You really did have an amazing childhood.”

  “Yeah, I think so.” But also a lonely one in some ways. His parents were never home, always working, and he had no siblings. Quinn didn’t have any siblings either, which was part of the reason they’d bonded as teenagers. He’d had friends in Hong Kong, but he was always the outsider.

  He’d been the outsider in London as well, but so had Quinn. Not quite British enough, not American enough. And then there was her weight.

  “Did you miss this?” she asked, waving her chopsticks at their surroundings. The market was busy, colorful with people and a variety of food and goods for sale. It was loud too, but that was part of the charm.

  “Yeah, I did. I’ve been through Hong Kong a couple of times, but always on the way to somewhere else. I’ve never had the chance to stop and explore the old stomping grounds until now.”

  Quinn smiled. “I’m glad you brought me here.” Her green eyes were warm, and he found himself smiling in return in spite of Fai Kwan’s presence. The man understood some English, but their conversation was vague enough that it would be impossible to know they’d met before yesterday.

  “Me too.”

  They finished the food, then Blade glanced at his watch and frowned. “We should get back.”

  Quinn’s contented expression clouded. He hated seeing it, but there wasn’t much choice. “I know.” She sighed.

  Blade asked Fai Kwan to get the car and meet them at one of the market entrances. The man nodded and melted away into the crowd. Blade studied their surroundings, because that was his habit, and then after a goodbye hug to Hui Yin and a promise to return, he led Quinn through the crowded market.

  They were almost to the outside again when Quinn grabbed his arm. He stopped and turned, but before he could ask her what she wanted, she flung her arms around him and stood on tiptoe. He should have stopped her—could have stopped her—but he didn’t. Instead, he caught her around the waist and held her as she pressed her lips to his.

  It wasn’t a sexy kiss, not really, a
nd yet every nerve ending in his body blazed to life. Her lips were soft, warm, and he suddenly wanted more. Much, much more.

  Chapter Eight

  Quinn’s heart threatened to pound right out of her chest as she stood in Blade’s arms and kissed him. She hadn’t intended to do it, but as they’d neared the exit to the market, she’d needed an outlet for the feelings swelling up inside before she exploded.

  So she’d grabbed him and kissed him. She’d only meant to kiss him quick and thank him for making her life bearable again, but as his hands tightened on her, she knew it wasn’t enough. This one quick kiss would never be enough.

  She prepared herself for his rejection, for the moment when he thrust her away—but he didn’t. His grip on her tightened, and then his head slanted sideways and his tongue slipped between her lips. Stroked against her tongue.

  Quinn’s body went up in flames. She hadn’t been touched in so long that she was like dry tinder. Blade was the match. No, Blade was the flame thrower. Because she was going up in smoke here.

  His mouth claimed, demanded, devoured. She clung to him, let him lead her, enthralled by the power and passion his kiss created.

  This was what it meant to want. To need. To desire.

  She clung to him, wanting more, wanting everything.

  She felt the moment it all changed, felt him stiffen and drag in a breath. Then he growled low in his throat and pushed her away. Gently, but it was still a rejection.

  His eyes flashed hot and her stomach twisted into knots. “Don’t do that again,” he said hoarsely. “It’s too dangerous.”

  She didn’t bother to protest or tell him what her initial plan had been—just a quick kiss of thanks—because it didn’t matter. They’d crossed a line with that kiss. A line that was never going to be the same again in her heart. Or maybe in his either.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…,” she began. But she didn’t regret it. Not at all.

  He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have either. It wasn’t just you.”

  She touched her lips. They still tingled and stung from the kiss—but it was a delicious feeling. One she wanted more of.