here?”
Neil shrugged, motioning to the bartender for a beer. “Beats me.”
“Unbelievable.” Clay shook his head. “Only Straight Arrow Barrow would strike out with a sure thing like Piper.”
“Uh, Bellamy. Why are you sitting here?”
“Hey, I haven’t even started yet.” Clay chuckled. “Women.”
The bartender handed him a brown longneck and Neil clinked his bottle with Clay’s. “Ain’t that the truth?” He took a sip, playing back the evening in his mind.
A sure thing? He didn’t think so.
Maybe Piper had suddenly become exhausted in the cab. But he doubted it. She’d barely touched her wine, and she’d downright panicked at the suggestion of the nightclub. Only two conclusions could be drawn. Either Piper’s antics as a bad girl were purposefully exaggerated—by her publicity team or by the press—or her behavior had undergone a dramatic change. Which was it?
It surprised him how badly he wanted to find out.
GO TIME!
Adrenaline pumping, Neil jumped from the helo and fast roped down to the deck of the enemy ship. Pulling his MP-5 over his shoulder, he scanned the area while the rest of his platoon scrambled down. Once everyone landed, they headed below to secure the crew.
Neil darted right, while Deep-dish took the left. Weapon ready, Neil opened the first cabin door and stepped onto...
A white sandy beach. A cool breeze brushed through green palm fronds, and a salty tang hit his nostrils. Seagulls squawked and the surf crashed onto shore. He studied the coastline and spied Piper in the waves, modeling in a hot pink string bikini. She saw him and smiled seductively, wiggling her fingers in greeting.
As if he were watching a film on fast-forward, the tide raced in and the sun set seemingly into the ocean. When the pace slowed to normal, the cameras and her photographer had disappeared. He was alone with Piper and she was in his arms, pressing her lips to his neck. She called his name and let out a soft sigh. Then his mouth was on hers, giving and taking, until she pulled away, laughing, and ran down to the water’s edge. He gave chase.
Catching up to her, he grabbed her around the waist and they fell into the surf, tumbling over each other as they kissed madly. Instantly, he was alone again, lying in the hot desert sand, his arms empty. He looked off to the distance and Iraqi oil fires burned, sending up plumes of black smoke that smothered the sky.
With a groan, Neil woke up, tense, hard and pulsing. He rolled to his back and ran his hands over his face and through his hair. What a dream. Maybe he shouldn’t have checked online about Piper before he turned in.
He’d gone down a Piper rabbit hole last night. She was everywhere, he’d discovered, modeling clothes, makeup and jewelry. She’d made the cover of most major magazines and he could see why. The camera loved the exotic quality about her that he’d witnessed firsthand. And those pictures of her in fancy lingerie had literally haunted his dreams.
He threw back the covers and jumped out of the comfortable hotel bed, slipped on his shorts and T-shirt and headed down to the beach. The sun was just peeking above the horizon and the dawn sky was turning the clouds neon orange. His favorite time of day.
Out of habit, he scanned his surroundings, looking for anything out of place. But the beach was mostly deserted. Only two other runners were anywhere close as he hit the sand at a fast jog toward the hotel where he’d dropped Piper off. Yeah, he knew it was a long shot. But a man made his own luck.
Neil couldn’t believe how badly he wanted to see her again. He was a simple man. He’d strived for a simple life. Piper was complication personified. And he’d had enough complications lately dealing with the fallout from his disastrous marriage.
That was two failed relationships now: first Alexandra—or Alex—and second Lyndsey. He had to conclude that he was doing something wrong. Some flaw in him he couldn’t see. One that involved choosing the wrong mate.
Every SEAL knew the divorce rate in their line of work was higher than average, but he thought he’d chosen carefully when he’d proposed to his childhood friend, literally the girl next door. Clay had warned him about Lyndsey, but then, Clay had vowed never to marry.
Neil scoffed at this train of thought. As if he would, or even could marry a lingerie model. As if she would be interested in a beat-up special-ops guy when she could have any man on the planet. He thought about last night, when she’d sat across from him, asking him about BUD/S. She’d seemed genuinely interested. But it followed that if she knew how to work a crowd, she could certainly work one guy.
She didn’t seem the type who normally tried to spare people’s feelings. When he’d covered her hand with his, she’d practically yanked it away. But not before he’d felt it tremble beneath his touch.
The shoreline curved and Piper’s hotel came into view. As he approached, he wished he’d asked for her number instead of giving her his. But he’d rolled the dice and she needed to be the one to make the call. Stop second-guessing yourself, Barrow.
He came to a halt and peered up at the ten-story art deco hotel. The top two floors were penthouse suites with wraparound balconies. She was probably in one of them. Lifting his shoulder, he used his sleeve to wipe at the sweat dripping down his temple. What had he thought? That she’d be waiting out there like Juliet for his Romeo? She probably wasn’t even awake.
Disgusted with himself, he left and headed back the way he’d come. Tonight he’d be Clay’s wingman at that honky-tonk joint. Piper wasn’t the only woman in Miami.
Even if he couldn’t seem to get her out of his head.
Clear your thoughts.
After another mile he finally slipped into the zone, his body on autopilot. Sounds faded except for the rhythmic thud of his feet hitting the packed sand. He concentrated on the air inhaled through his nose and exhaled from his mouth. By the time he returned to his hotel, he’d restored equilibrium.
As he jogged up to the rear entrance, he spied a guy lurking off to the side. Pulling out his hotel key card, Neil kept one eye on the suspicious figure as he took the steps up from the beach.
“Lieutenant Barrow!” The guy jumped forward and stuck a minirecorder in his face. Neil barely stopped the heel of his palm from connecting with the moron’s nose. “How long have you and Piper been lovers?”
“What?” Neil stared at the guy in disbelief.
“Were you the reason Piper broke Brad Benton’s heart?”
“You people must be hard up for a story.” Swiping his key card, he yanked the door open and entered the hotel.
He was stepping out of the shower when three hard knocks rapped on his door. He dried off, wound a towel around his waist and then checked the peephole before opening the door for his friend.
“Seen the morning headlines?” Clay strode in, tossing several tabloids onto the desk.
Neil
