you choose, regardless of my feelings about them, and that I change my career to suit your preferences, then no. I won’t.”
“If you walk out that door, you’re finished with this family.” The admiral’s voice was as emotionless as if he’d just recited the weather forecast. Of course, he probably figured the weather was more cooperative than his eldest child.
For the first time since she’d walked into her parents’ house that morning, Alexia smiled. “That’s the last thing you said to me when I graduated college and moved to New York.”
She didn’t wait for a response. There was no point.
* * *
THREE HOURS, FOUR IBUPROFEN and a cold compress later, Alexia lay on her couch practicing meditative breathing. The now-lukewarm cloth across her eyes dimmed the light while the soothing sounds of her relaxation tape played through her earbuds.
Suddenly, someone pressed a hand against her arm.
She screamed. Heart racing, she jackknifed. The damp terry cloth went flying one way, her iPod the other.
“Calm down,” Michael said, both hands raised as if to prove he was unarmed. “It’s just me.”
“What’re you doing here?” She eyed the cloth now hanging off the rosewood table, but didn’t have the energy to move it. Instead, she dropped back to her pillow and tossed her forearm over her eyes.
“I heard you had brunch with the parents. So I brought ice cream.”
Alexia shifted her arm just enough to peer out. Michael shook the white bag as proof.
“Your favorite. Double-chocolate caramel with almonds.” He waited until she was upright before handing it to her. “The spoon’s in the bag.”
Chocolate might not fix everything, but it sure made suffering through it a lot easier, Alexia decided as she opened her treat.
“I can’t believe I thought it would be different. How stupid is that?” She dug into the carton, pressing hard to fill her spoon.
“You aren’t stupid. Most people have decent relationships with their parents. You probably just forgot that yours aren’t human.”
Alexia’s lips twitched. Then she sighed, staring at the spoonful of chocolate for a few seconds before gulping it down. It was delicious, but didn’t soothe the way it should.
“Besides, it’s not the admiral and his Mrs. that has you all tweaked out.”
“Well, aren’t you the king of perception,” she muttered.
“Queen, actually.” Michael grinned. “And to prove it, I’ll continue my brilliant assessment.”
Alexia curled her feet under her and gestured with the spoon for him to have a go at it.
“You’re upset about the hottie from the beach, right?”
Alexia gave a jerk of her shoulder, pouting into the carton instead of meeting her brother’s gaze.
“You had fun with him?”
“Do hours and hours of mind-blowing sex count as fun?”
“They do in my book.”
“Then sure. We had fun. But that’s all it was. Fun.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” Getting up because the chocolate was starting to hurt her stomach, not because she wanted to avoid any aspect of this fabulous conversation, Alexia headed into the kitchen. “Water?”
“Sure. While you get it, you can tell me what you were hoping for from Blake.”
Honesty.
Openness.
Forty or so more orgasms.
A chance to build a relationship.
“Nothing,” she said, pulling two bottles from the fridge and letting the cool air chill the heat on her cheeks. She’d never been a good liar.
“Well, then you got exactly what you wanted,” Michael decided when she handed him his water. “Too bad he didn’t get what he wanted.”
Sure he had. On the beach. In his truck. On her bed. In her shower. Hell, right there on her dining-room table. He wasn’t a shy, retiring sort of guy. If he’d wanted anything more than that, he’d have said so.
A bitter weight settled in her stomach.
“How would you know what he wanted?”
“After you left last night he found me.”
Alexia’s feet dropped to the floor. Wide-eyed, she peered at her brother, trying to see what he wasn’t saying.
“And?”
“And you’re awfully interested for a woman who wants nothing from him.”
“Why’d he find you?” she pressed, ignoring the dig.
“To ask what it’d take to get you to talk to him again.” Michael crossed one slender ankle over his khaki-clad knee and sipped his water, then arched one elegant brow. “So? What’ll it take?”
“For him to change careers. To get amnesia and forget he served with Father. To learn the importance of open, honest communication.”
“He’s not going to change careers. He’s a SEAL, he’s totally dedicated. Would you change careers for a relationship? I think not,” Michael said reasonably. She peered at him, wondering if he’d been hiding in the kitchen during brunch.
“Then we have no chance of being together,” Alexia stated, getting to her feet to pace. “Because me dating a solider, a SEAL, at that, well, it’d be like you dating a woman.”
“Eww.” Michael grimaced. “No need to be gross.”
“But you get what I mean, right?” She stopped in front of her brother and dropped down to sit on the coffee table. “It’s not like it’s a bad thing for someone else. I’m not dissing the military itself, or the idea of someone else dating soldiers.”
“It’s just not your thing.”
“Exactly,” she said, grateful that he understood.
“Except Blake? He is your thing,” Michael pointed out gently. “You had fun with him. You connected. Great sex? That’s not just physical. Once or twice, sure. But days on end? That’s a connection, Alexia. Sometimes a once-in-a-lifetime kind of connection. Are you willing to let your prejudices stand in the way of that?”
She sighed. Dropping her gaze to her hands, she watched her fingers twist together. Remembered how they’d looked against Blake’s tanned skin, smoothing, touching. Caressing.
It’d been incredible.
Could she risk it? He was the kind of guy who’d demand everything. She’d already experienced that firsthand when it came to sex. Physically, there was no holding back with Blake. He gave one hundred percent and demanded just as much in return.
But she needed more than just physical.
Only a week ago, she’d wanted sex, had thought it was the most important aspect of a relationship. She’d wanted something that’d make her feel like a woman, sexual and strong and satisfied. And she’d got it.
But the bottom line was that he was a soldier. Not just military, in service to his country. But an elite fighting machine, specifically trained and totally focused on dangerous missions. Someone who’d always put country, squad and his career before anyone else in his life.
Men like that were exceptional. Special. And even though she hadn’t realized it, that was part of what made Blake so incredible. So maybe she could live with that.
But another part of his job