that an appealing visual?” Tessa mused, ignoring the reality of it. “Maybe I’ll give it a try after I finish this round.”
His eyes only left her for a moment, long enough to see that she only had two balls left. Instead of leaving, though, he leaned against the wall and gestured with his chin toward her hand.
“You seem to know your way around the stick.”
Tessa made a show of sliding her fingers up the cue, skimming suggestively around the tip before sliding them right back down. Gabriel, being a man, watched the move and smiled. She just wished that smile wasn’t so wickedly appealing. As much in defense against it as to replace the needy images flashing through her mind at the sight of him, she tapped the cue against her free hand a couple of times, then tilted the tip toward him in a mocking salute.
“Anytime you want me to take aim at your balls, you just give a whistle,” she said, putting a little extrahusky suggestion in her tone. “You do know how to whistle, don’t you?”
Gabriel’s smile was pure appreciation, either for the movie quote or for her not-so-subtle threat. Knowing him, probably both.
“Angel, you want to play, I’m your man.” He moved around the table so fast Tessa didn’t have time to steel herself against the intense need that hit her when he reached her side. That was her excuse and she was sticking to it, dammit.
“I’ll bet we’d have a fascinating game between us,” he told her in that midnight voice of his. His fingers curled loosely over hers on the cue, guiding her hand back down toward the shaft. A zing of desire shot through Tessa’s body, her knees shaking as heat, needy and intense, curled in her belly. Had she ever gone wet and weak with just a touch?
Only once, she admitted to herself as she tried to clear her head. Only once—the last time he’d touched her.
She stared at Romeo. His pitch-black eyes were bottomless. Not cold—just the opposite, in fact. They were so hot that Tessa was terrified she’d burn before she lost herself in those depths.
Since terror wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with—or planned to experience long enough to get used to—she tilted her chin in challenge.
“Fascinating?” She put every bit of disinterest in her tone she could muster, keeping her expression amused. “Maybe. But it takes two to play, and I’m really not interested.”
Arching a brow, she slid her hand out from under his and left him gripping the stick alone.
There.
She knew that comment would slay a lesser man. Send him falling to the floor with his hands over his assets—metaphorically speaking.
Gabriel wasn’t a lesser man, but the refusal should still take care of him, she decided as she sashayed from the room.
A quick glance in the mirrored wall as she left gave her the perfect—and unobserved—look at his smile. Tessa tried not to groan.
Because that wicked grin said she’d been way too optimistic.
* * *
GABRIEL GAVE THE pool cue in his hand a light shake, absently checking the balance as he watched Tessa stride out, her hips swaying with enough temptation to send her skirt swirling around legs that had helped sell a million fitness videos.
The tiny purple dress was the same color as a breathtaking sunset he’d watched from a beach in Costa Rica a while back. Her long black hair tumbled in waves over her back and, despite the heels—damn, those had to be at least five inches—she was still as tiny as one of the Little People his Cherokee grandfather used to weave into stories around the campfire.
Shaking the memory away, Gabriel’s easy smile faded into a frown. What was it was about Tessa Monroe that made him think of his past? Stupid, since he’d never met anyone like her before. Crazy, because the only place he had in his life for women was the present moment. And useless, since nobody knew better than Gabriel how important it was to defuse explosives before they blew up in his face. And there was nothing with more potential to detonate than the past.
And nothing more explosive than a sexy woman with an attitude.
“Yo, Romeo.”
Gabriel blinked away his unusually deep thoughts and gave his buddy an easy smile.
“Yo, Scavenger,” he drawled, watching the tall man move into the room with an air of someone escaping a torture chamber. “Had enough of the party already?”
“I’m not the one hiding in an empty room,” Scavenger laughed, humor lighting his usually intense features. A first-class medic with recon skills that were nigh on magic as far as Gabriel was concerned, Scavenger tended to be on the quiet side. But he saw everything.
Something that Gabriel valued on the SEAL team.
But not in his private life.
Not that he had anything to hide. Hell, he was an open book. As long as the book opened to the page he was on today.
“What’s up?” Gabriel asked, knowing that look in his friend’s eyes. Part assessing, part caution, it meant the other guy was debating whether he wanted to share his thoughts or not.
“Jackrabbit’s gonna be a pain in the ass,” Scavenger finally said quietly, the words accompanied by a loose shrug.
Gabriel considered the warning. Because as casually as it was offered and as few words as it contained, if Scavenger had sought him out to say it, it was definitely a warning.
“There’s always a period of adjustment when we join a new team,” Gabriel pointed out, even though they’d been assigned to the team for six months already. Until they trained together, deployed together, they wouldn’t feel like a team. “He’ll get used to me.”
“Don’t think he’ll get used to losing, though,” Scavenger offered with a quick grin. “Watch your back. He’s looking for an edge.”
With a nod to acknowledge that he’d received the warning and would heed it—probably—Gabriel took aim at one of the last two balls on the table, letting it ricochet off the other to send both into different pockets.
“Thanks for missing the party out there to let me know,” Gabriel said, meaning it. He might not care that some guy had issues, but he knew Scavenger’s concern was the good of the team, which meant those issues would have to be dealt with. “You have to beat the women off with a stick yet?”
It was a source of never-ending amusement to Gabriel and most of the team that Scavenger, in all his shyness, was consistently hit on wherever they went.
“They wouldn’t be all over me if you were there. Isn’t that part of your rating? To take point on all social excursions, engage the female predators in order to allow the team to carry out their mission unmolested?”
“Is that what this is?” Gabriel laughed as he put the cue back in its stand. “You want me out there as a shield?”
“Nah, Irish was looking for you,” Scavenger said, his cheeks a little toasty. “You were supposed to help him with something?”
Oh,
