last fall. Again.”
Last fall?
Shit.
“Because of me?”
Her smile was pure appreciation.
“No, although my unacceptable behavior toward you did trigger the discussion.”
“By discussion you mean fight?”
Alexia gave him a sardonic look. “I thought you knew my father. One doesn’t fight with the admiral. One listens. One obeys. Or one is disowned.”
“I was the trigger. What was the bullet?”
“He doesn’t find my career acceptable. It’s embarrassing to him and my mother that I focus on sexual behavior. They’d rather I use my psych degree working for the government. Or barring that, they want me to go into private practice in a tidy little office somewhere and talk sexual behavior behind closed doors, where it belongs.”
“But you said what you’re doing will help a lot of people.”
“It will. In the last year, it has, actually. We just received a huge grant to further the work, which is probably what brought the wrong kind of attention.” She was quiet for a second, then shifted one shoulder as if it didn’t matter. “Fitting, my father would say. To my parents, subliminal programming to heal sexual aberrations is nothing more than self-indulgence for the weak.”
“That’s bullshit.” It pissed him off that she would blame herself, even in a roundabout way, for the kidnapping, or for her parents’ narrow views. “You make a difference. And you love what you do. Don’t let bullies push you into sidestepping that passion. Even if one of them is a terrorist and the other your father.”
Alexia’s tension faded, her body relaxing into his again as she laughed.
“I guess that’s what you do, isn’t it? Stop tyrants from getting away with bullying.”
“That’s one of our specialties,” he confirmed. Blake was always proud to be a SEAL, to serve his country. But seeing the admiration in Alexia’s eyes added a nice layer of muscle to that pride.
“So why did things change?” Her tone was pure compassion, so understanding and sweet that he wanted to lay his head on her shoulder and let every pain he’d ever had drain away. “You said you don’t worry about doing your job. But you worry about something else now, don’t you?”
Blake went as still as if she’d pulled the pin from a grenade and tossed it to him. One wrong move and there would be emotional spattering, all over the place.
“Maybe you can sideline with that psych degree,” he joked stiffly, wondering how the hell she’d circled back. Hadn’t baring her own woes been a distraction? You’d think the sad, pathetic story of his childhood was enough to listen to. She still wanted more?
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, sounding compassionate and soothing. He could feel the hurt in the set of her shoulders, though. See it in the stiffness of her smile. “I just, well, you were hurting before. Last fall. It made me sad to see the unhappiness in your eyes.”
Blake clenched his jaw. She’d known then that he was hurting? Was he that transparent? For just a second, he frowned. That wasn’t why she’d slept with him, was it? Pity sex? As quick as the thought came in, it faded. There had been nothing pitiful between them, and he’d be a fool to start thinking that way.
“That was a rough time,” he said, figuring he could let it go at that. Then, hoping she’d accept it as enough of an excuse, he added, “I’d served on three back-to-back missions and was hitting burnout.”
“That’s got to be hard. Like an adrenaline rush that doesn’t stop. I’d think you’d face quite a lot of exhaustion.” She sounded so understanding that Blake had to close his eyes against the emotions her compassion unleashed. He wanted to kick himself. He’d had access to this much caring, this much sympathy eight months ago. And instead of opening to her, he’d locked everything up tight, deep inside where it could fester and ferment and grow. Damn, he was smart.
“You don’t really notice the exhaustion,” he heard himself saying. “At first, the back-to-back element gives you an edge. You’re always on, always primed. That makes for a pretty effective weapon.”
“But after a while, a bow drawn taut loses its intensity, doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “Yeah. That’s when things happen.”
“What happened?” she whispered, her words a breath of comfort over him. No demand, no surprise, it was as if she’d known there was something aching there and she wasn’t going to pry it loose, but simply wait until it surfaced so she could scoop it away.
“We lost a guy.”
He watched her face as he said it. Waited for the judgment. The shock or horror. But her expression didn’t change. Her dark eyes might have melted a little more, but that was all. Instead, she shifted, leaning closer to brush a soft kiss over his lips.
Comfort.
Healing.
Acceptance.
For the first time since he’d watched the life drain out of his buddy, Blake felt those things. All because of a tiny little kiss.
No, he realized.
Because of Alexia.
He waited. Now that the door was open, she’d ask questions. She was intuitive enough to sense his loss was more than just a team member—although that’d be devastating enough. She’d make him talk about Phil. About what he’d meant, how hard it was to adjust to life without him.
Blake’s stomach, cast iron in battle, shuddered.
“That has to haunt you,” she said quietly. “And make you second-guess your decisions, be extra cautious when it’s costing you to slow down and be careful.”
Blake drew back to stare at her. That wasn’t prodding and poking. That wasn’t pushing him into facing things. Where was the emotional aggression? She was trying to kill him, wasn’t she? Or worse, make him fall in love with her.
“You need to remember that life’s short,” she said, her palm skimming his cheek. “We don’t get to pick the how or the where. All we get to do is live the days we’re given to the fullest.”
Blake had fallen off a cliff once. You’d think it would be a wild and fast plummet to the ground, filled with fear of the pain that was surely waiting on impact. And it had been. But it had also been surreal, a time to assess every decision, every mistake and totally analyze the misstep that had brought him into the free fall. It was oddly comforting to know that dive to the death provided plenty of time for regret.
That’s how he felt right now. He was falling. He could feel it and knew there was no reversing the direction, no halting the fast plunge. That the landing was going to hurt was unquestionable. That he’d regret not watching his step was guaranteed.
Yet, for all that, if someone tossed him a rope to haul him back to safety, he’d have refused. Because some things just had to happen.
Like falling in love with Alexia.
* * *
BLAKE WAS LOOKING at her as if he could see all the way into her soul. As if he knew what was in her heart and was waiting for a confession. Alexia swallowed, wondering what had just happened. And how she was going to deal with it. Because whatever it was, it felt huge.
And she didn’t mean the erection rubbing against her thigh.
She figured she had three options.
Reach down and slide her fingers over that erection, so they both changed focus to something a lot more pleasurable.
Voice any of the dozens of questions clamoring in her mind, like, who had died? How close had Blake been to him? How was he dealing with the loss after