Hot Alpha SEALs: Military Romance Megaset

by Sharon Hamilton

  He couldn’t stop his bark of laughter. He wished he had, because it hurt. “I’m glad too.”

  She sat up and he tried to ignore the wave of regret as she angled away, out from under the bushes that shielded them. Had he really thought to hold her…forever? She brushed her tangled hair from her face and stared at him with wide eyes. “I wasn’t sure for a while.”

  “Well, I’m fine.” He tried to follow her out of the foliage, but it clung to him. He realized it wasn’t rooted to the ground. “What is this?” he muttered, pushing it away.

  “Oh. They were coming, so I borrowed your knife and cut some branches for us to hide under.” She blinked as his attention snapped to her. “I…hope you don’t mind.”

  Mind?

  She wrinkled her nose and gestured to his waist. “I put it back.”

  Holy hell. “They were coming, so you cut a bunch of branches and covered us?”

  “Y-yes. They would have found us if I hadn’t.”

  No doubt.

  Shit. He benched twice her weight on a typical day, and she—this tiny thing—had saved his life. Cut some bushes to hide them. In the dark. Under extreme pressure.

  He realized he was staring at her, probably the way he stared at his men sometimes, because her chin wobbled. “I put it back,” she repeated in a small voice.

  He forced a smile, because it seemed necessary to reassure her. And, perhaps, because he felt like smiling. “Sweetheart, you saved us both. Are you sure you’re not a SEAL?”

  And damn, it was worth it, that smile, when relief flooded her features and she grinned back. He had no idea why his heart skipped a beat. You would have thought he’d hung the moon, the way she gazed at him. But all she said was, “Oh. Good. I’m Lily, by the way.” She thrust out her hand.

  He was loath to take it, but did. Tingles danced up his arm. “Stone.” Her snort surprised him. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Her eyes glimmered. It wasn’t nothing. “Is that your real name?”

  “It’s what people call me.”

  “Why do they call you Stone?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Because I’m hard.” Hard-hearted. Cold as a stone. Impervious. But he didn’t feel cold around her. Around her, he felt hot.

  She nodded. “You are hard. I noticed that last night.”

  His pulse leaped. Something tightened at his core.

  “Not a very good pillow at all.”

  Oh. Right. That kind of hard.

  “It’s probably all my gear,” he said gruffly, patting his vest, which was filled with ballistic plates, ordnance, survival gear, and all kinds of shit. And she’d slept on him. Draped over him—

  His cock stirred. He raked his hair and cringed when he hit a tender spot on the back of his scalp. His hand came back bloody.

  She gasped. “Oh, we should probably tend that.”

  He nodded and pulled out his small first aid kit. An alcohol swab was probably as good as it got for now. To his horror, she took it from him and walked on her knees behind him. “Oh my,” she murmured as she studied his wound, riffling her fingers through the stubble of his hair. He flinched when she touched him. “Did that hurt?”

  Not in the way she meant. “It’s fine. Just swab it and make sure it’s clean, okay?”

  “Okay.” Her touch was gentle. She dabbed at the wound tentatively. He would have just burrowed in. “I think it was a piece of rock,” she said. “I was worried it was a bullet.”

  “It wasn’t a bullet.” He knew what a bullet felt like. “Most likely a ricochet.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. Should I wrap it?”

  He frowned over his shoulder at her. Right. Just what he needed, to stumble across the island looking like the walking dead. “No. It’ll be fine.” He pulled away, because she was still stroking his scalp and it was far too alluring. No. Not alluring. Annoying. That’s what it was. “Thank you. Have you, um, seen my helmet?” If he lost it, he’d never live it down. The night vision goggles alone were worth a fortune.

  “Let me look.” She stood slowly, scanning the area, checking for hostiles, before she made her way through the grasses and scrub, hunting for his brain bucket. He would have helped, but his head was still a little woozy; he focused on getting his vision to uncross. “I don’t see it,” she huffed, dropping back down by his side.

  Stone nodded. When he found his feet, he’d search as well. It had to be here. “Are you hungry?” He asked because her belly growled loudly enough to attract pirates on the mainland.

  “A little.” She licked her lips. “But I’m really thirsty.”

  He pulled out the straw of his CamelBak and leaned forward, holding it to her lips. He should have shuttled off all his gear and just handed the damn thing to her because when she leaned in close and he got a whiff of her, he nearly passed out. You would think a woman who had been held prisoner by filthy pirates for nearly a week would smell bad. She did not. She smelled like heaven. There was a light musky odor of sweat—it was hot in the tropics—but it twined with something that was essentially female.

  He’d never felt such hunger. It screamed through his soul.

  And, on top of that, their faces were close. And she was sucking on the nozzle. And fuck.

  He was a warrior. A trained weapon. On a mission.

  This was no time for a hard on.

  But he was hard. Damn hard.

  Her lashes flickered as she glanced up at him; she moaned as she swallowed. A shiver walked down his spine. Walked right down his spine and coiled in his balls.

  When she sat back with a sigh, he put the nozzle to his lips as well. Not because he was particularly thirsty, but because he wanted a taste of her mouth, while it was still fresh.

  What he really wanted was to kiss her. But she was the senator’s daughter and he was a grunt. That wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

  “Did…did you say something about food?” Damn lashes. Fluttering again. He had the urge to grab his Gerber and snip them off.

  He pulled an MRE from a pocket on his left leg, read the label, and grimaced. He hated the meatloaf. He should have paid more attention when he prepped his gear. He had more in his pack, but this would do for now. “I have this.”

  Her nose wrinkled as she studied the silver foil.

  Yeah. Wait ’til she got a taste. He ripped open the packet, broke off a piece, and handed it to her. It was messy, because of the gravy, but he didn’t want to unload everything to find an implement. They needed to eat and go.

  She took a bite. Her eyes widened. “Yuuum,” she said in an unconvincing tone.

  It was all he could do to hold back his laugh.

  “What…” She swallowed heavily. “What is this?”

  “An MRE.”

  “What does that stand for?”

  His lips quirked. “Meals Rarely Edible.”

  Her brow wrinkled, and then she laughed.

  And ah, what a laugh. A melodic trill. Some kind of sound he figured you might hear in heaven.

  “Do you eat these often?”

  “Not if I can help it.” He shoved a chunk in his mouth and fired it back. “But we have a long way to go today, and these have a lot of calories.”

  She froze, a niblette of mystery meat halfway to her mouth. “How-how many calories?”

  “About twelve hundred a meal.”

  She gaped at him. “Twelve hundred?” She glared at the meatloaf as though it were made of turds. Then again, it might have been. “And you gave it to me? To eat?”

  “Yeah. You’ll need it.”

  “Why didn’t you warn me?” She smacked him. It was like being batted by a kitten. “Twelve hundred calories is my whole day!”

  He grinned. He could burn that much with a good fart. “Perfect. It’s probably all you’ll get. Eat up.”

  “For twelve hundred calories, I could have eaten a cheesecake.”

  He looked around for the cheesecake.

  She shoved her tiny chunk of meatloaf at him. �
�Here, you eat it.”

  He pushed it back. “You eat it. We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

  “We do?” She tipped her head to the side. “Where are we going?”

  “There’s an island to the south.” He grabbed a stick and sketched out a quick map. “We’re here. At the north end of this island. And the secondary extraction point is here.”

  Her throat worked. “How will we get to the other island?”

  “Swim.”

  She paled. “I-I can’t swim.”

  It was probably rude to stare. But really? She couldn’t swim? Who couldn’t swim? “You never wanted to learn?”

  “Oh, I wanted to.” She sighed. “My mother was afraid I would drown.”

  “Not drowning is kind of the point of swimming.”

  “She wanted to keep me safe.” He didn’t miss the exasperation in her tone. “I didn’t get to do a lot of things. Which is probably why—And wouldn’t you know it? The first time?” She gazed at him as though she’d finished a sentence. As though he’d understood a bit of what she’d said.

  “Well, don’t worry. We’ll get you home safe. And then everything will be just the way it was before.”

  Her sudden frown mystified him.

  They finished eating and had a little more to drink, and then Stone buried the evil foil packet in the sand. Lily could only hope it didn’t sprout an MRE tree. But as horrible as that meatloaf had been, her tummy was full. She was suddenly filled with energy.

  “Are you ready to head out?” he asked. His eyes were unusually bright as they fixed on her, but she figured they only seemed so because of the dark camo still streaking his face. She couldn’t help wondering what he looked like under all that. His features were sharp and hard, like his name, but she liked the jut of his chin, she liked his high cheekbones and that long straight blade of a nose. His ears were kind of big though. She really liked his neck. It was thick and muscled and the skin there was soft and tanned a toasty brown. His hair was dark and she thought, perhaps, if it wasn’t so closely cropped, it would probably curl a little.

  His body was long and heavily muscled. At least, she imagined it would be. If he ever took all his gear off. She focused on his chest, trying to imagine—

  “Lily?”

  “What?”

  Oh dear. She should probably stop imagining…

  “Are you ready to go?”

  She nodded and leaped to her feet.

  He picked up his gun and stood as well, though it took a little longer because he was enormous and he was carrying a heavy pack. He teetered backwards and she caught him.

  Well, she tried to catch him. At the very least she succeeded in slowing his tumble. He landed with an oof.

  “Shit!” he muttered, and then shot her a remorseful glance. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  Lily chuckled. “No worries. I’ve heard that word before on occasion.”

  “Still. It’s not appropriate language around a lady.”

  “Who told you that?” She tugged on his arm and helped him stand again, though he did most of the work. He pretended to let her help, which she appreciated.

  “My mother, of course.”

  She tipped up her chin and grinned at him, but her grin froze on her lips. She knew he was tall, but…oh my. “Do you-do you always do what your mother tells you to do?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes twinkled, so she knew he was telling a lie. But a forgivable one. She responded in kind.

  “Me too.”

  They shared a smile then. It might have lasted a moment or an eternity. Lily shivered as the intensity engulfed her. There was something more to that smile than mere amusement. It was almost as though they…touched. Oh, not on a physical level. They were definitely touching, as he had his arm around her shoulder and she had her hand on his chest to steady him. But something else. Something ephemeral.

  Then he cleared his throat and looked away and took a tentative step. Then another. Away from her. “Okay,” he muttered. “I’m fine. I’m good to go. Just a little shaky there for a minute.”

  “Could you have a concussion?”

  “No.” He shook his head… and winced. “I don’t think so. But we’ll take it slow, just to be sure. Ready?”

  “Ready, Teddy.” She was pretty proud of her use of military vernacular, but he didn’t seem impressed. His dark brow came down at a funny angle and he snorted.

  Even though he was anxious to leave, he spent a bit of time hunting the area for his helmet, which he didn’t find. She could have told him he wouldn’t find it. If it had been there, she would have seen it. She was excellent at finding things. Most likely, the pirates had found it on the path last night and taken it, but she didn’t mention this possibility to Stone, because he seemed very attached to that helmet.

  At long last, he gave up with a gusted sigh. “We should probably head out.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’ll be moving toward the south,” he said, as though that made any difference to her. She was just going to follow. “Keep an eye out for any pirates. And let’s keep chatter to a minimum, so I can hear if anyone approaches. Okay?”

  Lily crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a chatterbox.”

  “I didn’t say you are. It’s just that…” He trailed off and then flushed. She knew he flushed because his ears went red.

  “It’s just that…what?”

  “Women like to, I dunno.” He shrugged. “Talk.”

  “Not when we’re in mortal danger.” Sheesh. Was he one of those?

  A ripple of chagrin flickered over his features—but only a ripple. “Okay, fine,” he clipped.

  “Fine.” She spun on her heel and marched away.

  “Lily?”

  Seriously? For someone who was all we shouldn’t talk, he sure didn’t wait very long to start a conversation. “What?” She frowned at him over her shoulder.

  He pointed down the beach. “The other way.”

  Her frown darkened. “I knew that,” she muttered, and reversed her steps.

  All right. He was tall and muscular and smelled really good and his voice was, sexy as hell.

  But she didn’t think she liked him much at all.

  Chapter Five

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  Goddamn she was cute when she was in a snit. The way her lips pursed and her nose wrinkled. And the way her hips swung as she sashayed away… There ought to be a law.

  It was a damn shame she was the senator’s daughter. If she was just a normal girl, she would definitely be the kind of woman he’d make a play for. Oh, not for any kind of LTR. But a night?

  Fuck yeah.

  And then, upon reflection, he changed the night to a weekend in his fantasy. But hell, if it was a fantasy, why stop there? A week in bed with her? Doable. Totally doable.

  She was doable.

  In his fantasies.

  But only there.

  In real life, no way.

  He was a SEAL, dedicated to serving his country. Relationships were tough when a guy was off on missions or running maneuvers. More than a handful of his buddies were divorced because their wives couldn’t take the stress of not knowing if her man was alive or dead. Not knowing where he was, or if he was coming home. Not knowing anything. Never knowing…

  He’d seen the impact of that incessant uncertainty on a family. And the devastation when a man didn’t come home. He’d seen it—up close and personal. Mom had never been quite the same.

  Military careers were hell on marriages. It took a special kind of strength to take it.

  Stone had resolved long ago never to do to a woman what his dad had done to his mom, so relationships were out of the question. Since he also didn’t care for one-night stands, that made for a lonely existence.

  His lips curled as he thought of the true reason for his nickname. His buddies razzed him when he didn’t visit the bars and whorehouses when they were posted overseas, when he didn’t avail himself of the services of SEAL groupies when they were in
San Diego.

  You never get laid, they said. You must be hard as a stone.

  Well, he was now. Just watching her walk made him hard.

  The best he could do was get her to the extraction point, get her off his hands…and then find a nice comfy happy sock.

  He loved his job. It was always exciting and sometimes as fun as shit. And he liked his life the way it was…with no strings. But damn, if ever there was a woman who might tempt him to want more—

  What the fuck? He yanked the reins on his wayward thoughts.

  Enough. Enough of this shit.

  He was here to perform a mission and that was it.

  Not to stare at her ass or enjoy the feel of her in his arms or fucking sniff her hair.

  Maybe he did have a concussion. A little one at least. Something had knocked him for a loop.

  He caught up to her and yanked her arm, tugging her to the right, into the shadows of the trees. It was a better position to see any oncoming threats without being exposed. He probably shouldn’t have yanked so hard. She shot him a wounded look, but he ignored it.

  It was his job to protect her and that was what he was going to do.

  Even if it meant protecting her from himself.

  Especially that.

  He was grumpy.

  Lily had no idea why he was so grumpy, but she chalked it up to the fact that he probably had one heck of a headache. And maybe a concussion.

  Or maybe he was just naturally grumpy.

  He was certainly cold. Detached. Unemotional. Like a machine.

  She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. With all that goo on his face, it was hard to read his expression, but she could tell he was constantly scanning for threats as they made their way south along the fringe of the trees. Every now and again, he would freeze and hold up his fist. She had no idea what that meant. It was probably SEAL code for…something. But after a couple times, she figured out it meant: Stop walking and twiddle your thumbs until I decide it is time to walk again.

  It was hot, and there were swarms of bugs everywhere—some of them bit—but Lily just pushed through the discomfort. Every once in a while, he would stop and they would drink from the little hose on his shoulder. She didn’t take much, because she had no idea how much water he had, or how long it needed to last. He hadn’t mentioned how big this island was or how far they might need to walk.