was stupid, a total girlie thing. But he knew that wasn’t what she was looking for. She just wanted to know more about the guy she was sleeping with than his favorite position and what moves sent him over the edge.
Blake had hurt Alexia once because he’d taken the easy route. He wasn’t going to do it again if he could help it.
“SOP in a rescue is to get in, get the victim and get out. We’re not supposed to ask questions unless it pertains to completing the mission,” he explained.
“Is that what I am? A standard operating procedure?” She didn’t sound angry. Nor did her body stiffen or shift away. She simply looked at him with patient curiosity. As if she could wait, that she totally trusted he’d get to the right answer eventually.
Blake frowned. Why didn’t she ever react the way he expected? They had sex, and instead of falling into a satisfied stupor, she started thinking about her captivity. He inadvertently labeled her and she laughed it off. Would he ever understand how her mind worked? What her emotional triggers were?
“There’s nothing standard about you,” he said honestly. “The truth is, I don’t do this kind of thing well.”
She twisted in his arms so they were face-to-face. Her hair, free of the braid again, haloed around them like red flames. Her slender shoulders and silky skin made for a gorgeous distraction. Blake wanted to pull her tight against him, to tuck her head into his chest and distract her with sex. But the way she was staring at him made it clear she wasn’t going to go for it.
“What kind of thing?”
“The emotional aftermath,” he said with an uncomfortable shrug. “Dealing with the trauma. You went through hell. You deserve to talk to someone who understands how to guide you through the healing process. I’d say the wrong thing, or pat your head because I don’t know how to react, or cuss and punch something. And you don’t need anyone making it worse for you.”
Her eyes turned to liquid, her smile trembling a little at the corners.
“You are so sweet,” she said quietly, brushing her fingertips over his lips in a whisper-soft touch almost as intimate as a kiss.
“No. I just don’t want to talk the emotional stuff,” he dismissed gruffly. But inside, he felt like a little boy doing backflips. All excited because she thought he was sweet.
“But you would, wouldn’t you? If I had to talk it through, if I couldn’t wait for a professional who knew how to counsel me, you’d let me work it through with you?”
Blake would rather take a bullet. But, keeping his cringe inside, he nodded.
Her smile was bright enough to light the entire tent. With a husky laugh, she hugged him tight. Her bare breasts pressed temptingly against his chest while her legs twined with his.
“Sweet,” she told him. “You are so seriously sweet. Sweet enough that I won’t put you through that.”
“Thank you,” Blake breathed. Then, because words weren’t enough, he leaned down to kiss her. Their lips melted together, heating him through and through.
Maybe their five-minute wait was up...
Before he could find out, she leaned back to break the kiss and smiled again.
“So all that hand-holding you do is restricted to the rescue,” she teased. “Not the recovery?”
“We should all do what we do best. And leave the things we do worst for someone else.”
“And what do you do best?”
“Whatever I set my mind to,” he told her. It wasn’t bragging. He was damn good at what he did.
“Do you ever worry?” she asked, her fingers tracing a pattern on his chest, but her eyes locked on his. “Does it ever just seem like it’s too much? The constant living on edge, the missions and danger and never knowing what’s next?”
“It’s my life. Danger, the unexpected. They’re second nature. Like breathing.” Unable to resist those lips, already swollen from his kisses, Blake leaned down to kiss her again.
When he leaned back, she gave him a look that said no distractions allowed. Blake was tempted to see how long it would take to make that look change into passionate surrender.
But finally, with those patient eyes locked on his, he sighed and admitted, “Yeah, sometimes. I didn’t used to worry. I’m serious when I say it’s a job. I’m highly trained, and damn good at what I do. So doing it isn’t a worry.”
“But?”
How did she know there was a but? He replayed his words, his tone. There hadn’t been a but in there, dammit.
“You know, you wasted that psych degree of yours,” he teased, trying to laugh it off.
Despite her smile, she suddenly looked sad. Stressed. He could feel the tension tightening in her lower back.
“What?” he asked. “Why does that bother you?”
“That’s what my father said the last time he spoke to me. He wanted me planted somewhere safe and sound, billing fifty-minute hours and poking into people’s heads.”
Weird. Blake hadn’t taken the admiral to be a touchy-feely, get-in-touch-with-yourself kind of guy.
“I guess parents have their own vision for our lives, and it doesn’t always mesh with our own.”
“Or we have a vision for our own life that doesn’t fit theirs,” she said, her words only a little bitter.
Same thing, he started to say. Then he realized it wasn’t.
“Did yours?” she asked, her fingers tracing a design on his chest. Sliding lower, tighter.
“Did mine what?” he responded absently, all his attention focused on where she’d touch next.
“Did your parents’ vision suit you? Or did your vision suit them?”
Her fingers forgotten, Blake snorted. “I didn’t rate high enough to merit visions. My old man walked out when I was three, and my mother’s view was usually blurred by vodka. She didn’t care what I did. Or what I didn’t do.”
Alexia’s fingers shifted upward, teasing the hair on his chest, then rubbing in sweet, soothing circles.
“She must be proud now, though, right? You’ve been decorated so many times. Won so many honors.”
Blake arched a brow. How did she know what he’d done?
She looked stubborn for a second, then sniffed. “So I checked your records. So what?”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed, then kissed the tip of her nose. She was so freaking cute. Her sexiness was blatant, always right there like a punch in the face. Her brains were subtle, a backdrop to the sexy. Again, always there, but not something she shoved down your throat. But the cuteness? The vulnerable sweetness? That’s what got to him. She hid it a lot of the time, so when it peeked out, it was extra special.
“So I’m glad you were curious enough to want to check me out,” he said softly. Then he grimaced. He didn’t want to talk about his past. It wasn’t something he was ashamed of, but it wasn’t his world anymore. Still, honesty deserved honesty, so he told her, “My mother doesn’t care about any of that. I’m not even sure she knows I made the SEAL team. When I refused to send home my paycheck, she wrote me off. Said we were through. It’s been six years and I can’t say I miss her.”
Horror, anger and a sort of recognition all mixed together in Alexia’s expression. She kissed his chin, as if kissing away any hurt he might still feel.
“Even when we don’t care, it still hurts when they close that door, doesn’t it?” she said quietly.
Blake frowned.
“What doors are closed to