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Too sexy to resist?
Danielle Andrews was supposed to be on her honeymoon. Instead, she’s back on Discovery Island licking her wounds and running for shelter when she sees Daeg Ross coming her way. Years ago, on this very beach, Dani started something with the special ops aviation rescue swimmer. But she refuses to be tempted by the wickedly hot military hunk again.
Daeg Ross is used to jumping into treacherous waters. But his feelings for relationship-shy Dani are a whole new type of risk. They are volatile—and irresistible. When their lives are threatened by the invading winds and endless rain of a tropical storm, Daeg and Dani are forced to take shelter and ride out a wild night. Together, will they sink…or swim?
Uniformly Hot!
The few, the proud, the sexy as hell!
Can’t resist a sexy military hero?
Then you’ll love our Uniformly Hot! miniseries.
Mills & Boon Blaze’s bestselling miniseries
continues with more irresistible soldiers
from all branches of the armed forces.
When I spotted a little white crocheted bikini in a Victoria’s Secret catalog, I immediately started daydreaming about the kind of woman who could wear that itty-bitty scrap and my first Mills & Boon Blaze book, Wicked Sexy, was born.
When navy rescue swimmer Daeg Ross runs into Dani Andrews, she’s walking along the beach in said bikini. Daeg may dive beneath icebergs and into plane wreckage where sharks circle, but none of those missions yield the adrenaline rush he feels when he is reunited with Dani. Mills & Boon Blaze heroines are strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to strip down, emotionally or otherwise, and go after the hero…and Dani lives up to the bikini I bestowed on her.
I hope you enjoy their story!
Anne Marsh
Wicked Sexy
Anne Marsh
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Anne Marsh writes sexy contemporary and paranormal romances because the world can always enjoy one more alpha male. She started writing romance after getting laid off from her job as a technical writer—and quickly decided happily-ever-afters trumped software manuals. She lives in Northern California with her family and six cats.
This one’s for Roberta, the agent equivalent of a navy rescue swimmer for writers! Thanks for the advice, the guidance and the ready email ear!
Contents
1
THE WOMAN IN the white bikini needed rescuing.
Daeg Ross pulled his Harley into an empty spot along the strip of sand and killed the motor. The parking job put him close enough to make out the white crocheted pattern of the tiny top she sported. Her face was turned away, lost in a sheet of honey-colored hair, but the fabric of her suit cupped her breasts, creating an illusion of bare skin that had him wanting to get closer.
Real close.
He was rotten for noticing, but she was so sexy standing there on the beach. Besides, he wasn’t dead—yet—which was pure luck given how his last tour of duty had ended, so he’d looked. Twice. Sue him.
She wasn’t glancing his way, anyhow. She had her feet planted in the sand and her eyes on the ocean. The water started crystal clear, but picked up color as the bottom dropped away beneath the surface, though he didn’t think she’d stopped to admire the view. The set of her shoulders made her seem somehow lost. Unsure. Like she had no idea how she’d ended up on a beach or what she should do now that she was here, despite the swimsuit.
No more rushing to the rescue. Remember?
Parking beside him, Tag Johnson whistled. He pulled off his helmet and switched off the engine of his own Harley. “Now, there’s a sight a man doesn’t see every day.”
Cal Brennan, the third in today’s unofficial club, clearly didn’t disagree. “Real pretty, Johnson.” A fellow former rescue swimmer, Cal Brennan didn’t miss much, but right now, his focus was all horizon. Daeg’s gaze followed Cal’s out to sea.
The latest storm kicking up over the Pacific was still working her way toward shore, but the sky was already overcast with dark clouds moving in. The flight ceiling was dropping by the second. The weather boys hadn’t announced the arrival of the first tropical storm of the summer yet, but Daeg could read the signs. A storm was blowing in, fast and hard.
That storm was all business.
Their business.
All three of them—Daeg, Tag and Cal—were former spec ops, the heart and soul of a combat rescue team stationed in San Diego, California, that had seen more than its share of missions. After they’d survived the navy’s BUD/S training and Hell Week, they’d been each other’s eyes and ears. They’d fought together and swum together, always on the alert and ready to roll out with a mere moment’s