A SEAL for Christmas Read online

  After rolling over onto her back and placing a quick kiss on Murphy’s pouting lips—he seemed sad, even in his sleep—she slid carefully out from under his arm so as not to wake him and tiptoed to the bathroom.

  She showered and dried her hair, then wrapped a towel around herself and headed out to Aileen’s dresser, hoping the woman wouldn’t mind her stealing a clean pair of undies and a pair of jeans to go with the Santa sweatshirt she’d bought for herself at the Christmas store. She should’ve gone back to the hotel and packed a bag for herself last night, but if she’d done that she might’ve missed what happened between her and Murphy. Besides, she didn’t want to risk walking in on Mel and Daveed in bed.

  Panties on, she searched for her bra then snatched a pair of jeans and her sweatshirt from the shopping bag. Thankfully, Murphy still snored away in bed while she pulled on her new outfit. The sweatshirt was too big and the jeans a tad short, but it worked. She pulled on her socks then headed into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It was early still, only a quarter past five, so once she fixed herself a mug of energy she curled up on the sofa and admired the lovely tree.

  Murphy woke up a short time later and grumbled his way to the bathroom, completely naked and seemingly uncaring about it. Heat prickled her cheeks, not that she had any reason to be embarrassed around him, especially after the filthy, wonderful things they’d done to each other last night. She couldn’t help sneaking a peek at his fine, bare ass as he walked into the bathroom, not missing the love bites on his neck and shoulders before he shut the door behind him. Yep. She’d done that. Pride and heat coiled inside her. She’d do it again too, if given the chance.

  No regrets.

  Her stomach rumbled and she set her coffee aside to go in search of food in the kitchen. She found the ingredients to make pancakes and had just fired up Aileen’s stove when Murphy emerged from the bathroom, a wet towel slung around his hips and a wicked grin on his face. He padded over and gave her a thorough kiss.

  “Mornin’, darling,” he said, winking.

  Cheeks prickling, she suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze and turned away. “Morning. I’m making pancakes.”

  “Good.” His footsteps were solid against the hardwood floor as he walked away to get dressed. “I need to find out who that senator was that went to EnKor so I can pay him a little visit today. Need my strength for that. After you drained me of all I had last night.”

  The double entendre wasn’t lost on her and she began making pancakes in earnest, anything to keep busy and out of dangerous territory. He seemed totally okay with what happened between them and she wanted to be too, but she also wanted to be clear about what this was—a fling, nothing more.

  She flipped the pancake in her pan as he came up behind her and reached past her to get a mug out of the cupboard, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he brushed by her.

  “Hey,” she said, her throat oddly constricted. “We’re good with last night being a fling, right?”

  Shayma tried to keep her tone light and breezy but failed miserably, if his slight flinch was any indication. Surely he didn’t want more between them, did he? Of course he didn’t, she chastised herself. He’d never given her any indication that he was anything other than horny last night and that she was nothing more than a temporary nuisance in his life. He was just trying to be polite this morning, that was all. Had to be.

  Murphy gave a small shrug and took a seat at the breakfast bar. “Right. Just a fling.”

  His voice held a slight gruffness that she put down to him not being a morning person either, though from what Daveed had told her all three of the guys were used to getting up at the ass crack of dawn from their years in the military and used that to their advantage. Her heart pinched. Could he have wanted more with her? Had she hurt him in some way by calling last night just a fling?

  Her hands shook as she slid two pancakes out of the pan and onto a plate. If Murphy wanted more with her, would she be willing to give him that? Earlier she’d thought no, but now, with him being so sweet to her and them acting like a normal couple this morning, she could see a life with him. A life with kids and a home and a future.

  “Hurry up with that food, please.” His brusque, Grinch-esque tone from the night before had returned in spades and her hopes sank. “I’ve got work to do.”

  5

  Murphy managed to hold back a cringe through sheer force of will. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him? Even his father, who’d been a career Army Ranger, had never sounded so damned authoritarian, barking orders at people like they were his servants or something.

  He clenched his jaw and scowled down into his coffee mug. The morning had started so promising too. Memories of their night together had made for extremely pleasant dreams and he’d hoped to continue his explorations of Shayma’s delectable body, maybe take her out to eat, then come back here to the apartment and cuddle on the sofa while he continued to search for the mysterious senator who now seemed like his best lead on his missing sister’s case.

  Then, of course, he’d woken up alone and Shayma had just now blown him off with her “it’s just a fling” spiel. In the back of his mind, he had to wonder if the sinking knot of tension in his gut was how all the women in his past had felt when he’d basically told them the same thing.

  Fuck.

  With a snort, he shook his head. This was so stupid. He was so stupid. What did he care if Shayma said this was only a one-night stand? He should be frigging overjoyed. One less thing he had to worry about. After all, that’s exactly what he’d wanted, right?

  He squeezed his mug tighter. Then why the hell did if feel like someone had sucker punched him in the nuts?

  Murphy shifted on his stool and looked up as Shayma slid a plate of food in front of him. Her smile was a tad less sunny and a whole lot frostier now than it had been earlier. And he couldn’t blame her. He was acting like a Grade A dick, all because he’d broken his cardinal rule. The one piece of advice his father had given that was actually worth something. Never trust a woman.

  Sure, he’d never intended to trust Shayma, had never intended a lot of things where she was concerned, but here he was—staring down at a plate of homemade pancakes shaped like tiny Christmas trees and feeling like a total schmuck.

  Somewhere between the nail salon yesterday and this awkward-as-ass encounter this morning, he’d gone and allowed her into his heart, allowed her into his confidence. Exactly when or where, he wasn’t sure, but it probably had something to do with how she’d made him feel when he’d been sunk so deep inside her that he never wanted to let her go.

  And that was awful. The absolute worst thing he could’ve done. Because he had a case to solve, his beloved sister to find, and a life to get on with. He’d gotten yet another text from his CO on his phone this morning, reminding him of his impending decision to re-up for another stint in the SEALs. The deadline loomed large over him now, as did his recent shitty behavior toward Shayma.

  She slid onto the stool beside him and placed her napkin on her lap, not once looking at him as she ate. Even with the ill-fitting jeans and sweatshirt that all but swallowed her whole, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—all smooth, rosy cheeks and raven black hair. His fingertips itched to touch her again, but he grabbed his fork instead and shoved food into his mouth without tasting it.

  They chewed in silence for several minutes, each second that ticked by making the apology he owed her stick that much worse in his throat. He couldn’t tell her the real reason for his abominable rudeness this morning, but he could hopefully at least get them back on more amicable ground.

  He swallowed a bite of sweet, maple-syrup coated pancake, then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

  The only sign she gave that she’d heard him was a slight hesitation in the movement of her fork to her mouth. A tiny crumb clung to one side of her full, pink lips and he had the insane urge to lean over and lick it off. Instead, he sat like a lump on his stool and continued to inhale the
food she’d made for him without much pleasure. Not that it wasn’t delicious. It was. There just seemed to be a light out in his universe since the moment she’d basically told him he was nothing but her boy-toy, an evening of wicked fun to be left behind the next day.

  And honestly, how could he blame her? She was almost frigging royalty, like Daveed. Hell, her dad would probably start an international incident if Shayma brought a guy like him home to meet them. He came from simple folk, hard-working people. His dad had always called them “salt of the earth,” which in Murphy’s mind had always equated to lower middle class—not white trash, but hardly Rockefellers either. After his mom left, of course, that didn’t improve their family image. Two kids being raised by a single dad wasn’t exactly the norm and his dad never did date again either. Said he never wanted to go through the heartbreak he had when Murphy’s mom disappeared. Another lesson young Murph had learned from his dear old dad: steer clear of relationships.

  Which was why this whole thing with Shayma made no sense at all.

  He should be thrilled she wanted no strings attached. Except he… wasn’t.

  As if reading his thoughts, Shayma finally glanced over at him, her expression bland as a fresh fallen snow drift. “Tell me about her.”

  “Who?” Murphy frowned.

  “Your mother.”

  And there was sucker punch number two. He never discussed his mom with anyone. Let alone the woman who’d rocked his world in more ways than one last night. He should get up and get to work. He should walk out of the apartment and not come back until she’d gone back to her fancy suite at the Plaza Hotel. But he stayed where he was and shoved his plate away, words tumbling out before he even realized he was speaking.

  “I don’t remember a lot about her now, to be honest.” He shrugged. “She walked out when I was only six. My dad got rid of most of her pictures, so I can’t really even recall what she looked like back then. Brown hair, I think, short, usually serious. Never remember her laughing. My dad though? He had a great laugh—deep and loud and contagious. If he was laughing, I dare you to try and not join in.”

  “He sounds fun.”

  “He was. He died ten years ago of lung cancer. Life-long smoker.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  One side of Shayma’s mouth tipped downward and she swiveled to face him, her hands clasped in her lap. “That must’ve been hard for you, not having a mother growing up. And your poor sister.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t easy. My dad was gone a lot too, on missions for the Rangers, which left the two of us alone much of the time. Thankfully, some of the other ladies on the military base would stop by and bring us food and stuff when he was gone. I practically raised Aileen by myself. She turned out okay, I think.”

  “That was very brave of you.” Shayma tilted her head to the side, her dark gaze narrowed. “And it explains a lot.”

  “About what?”

  “About you, about why you make the choices you do.”

  The collapsed walls around his heart sprang back up. “What’s wrong with my choices?”

  She raised a dark brow at him. “You’re thirty-two and alone. I’d say that indicates some trust issues. Not without foundation, given your background, but—”

  “Hang on a minute and put away that psychology degree of yours. I’m not some lab experiment for you to analyze, okay?” He pushed away from the breakfast bar and stalked over to the desk to boot up his sister’s laptop. It was only seven-thirty. EnKor didn’t open until nine, so he still had some time to figure out who this senator was. Besides, it gave him something to do besides answer all her uncomfortable questions. The fact she’d nailed his biggest issue without even trying set him on edge again. Was he that easy to read? Or were they just that in sync that she could read him so well?

  Neither answer was comforting.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said from behind him, the sound of dishes being cleared away filling the air. “I just wondered why you seem so commitment phobic.”

  He gave a derisive snort. “Says the woman who only wants a fling.”

  Shayma glanced back at him over her shoulder as she stood at the sink. “That’s what you wanted too, isn’t it?”

  “Of course.” He slumped down into his seat at the desk and scowled at the computer. “I’m surprised by you, that’s all. Figured you wouldn’t be the one-night-stand kind of gal.”

  She bit her lip and he followed the movement with his gaze. What he wouldn’t give to be a set of teeth right about now. He shook off the crazy urge to stalk into the kitchen and pick her up. Set her on the breakfast bar and strip them both bare before taking her hard and fast and deep, fulfilling another one of the those forbidden fantasies of his where she was concerned.

  He shifted to stare back at his computer screen while she washed and dried the breakfast dishes then put them away. In an effort to distract himself, he got back onto the US Congressional website and began searching the Senate members again and was able to narrow his search criteria to members of the Energy and Natural Resources Committee, where he figured the members with the most interest in EnKor might be found. From there, he read each senator’s bio and service history and found only three who served on both the Energy subcommittee and were present at the oversight hearing on Fostering Innovation: Using New Technologies to Lower Costs and Fuel Environmental Reinvigoration. One senator was a woman, so he could disregard her, since the receptionist had told Shayma it was a man she’d met. That left two men, both in their fifties, white, wealthy, ex-attorneys.

  He printed off their pictures, then stood and grabbed his coat from the hook on the wall.

  “Where are you going?” Shayma asked, coming out of the kitchen to block his path.

  “Back to EnKor. I want to find out which of these senators is the one who visited.” He held up the photos for her before tucking them into his pocket. “Be back later. Don’t forget to lock up when you leave.”

  “Wait a minute.” She dogged his steps to the door. “You can’t just take off without me. We’re partners in this search for Aileen. And how far do you think you’d get showing up like that in the building? The guards won’t let you in.”

  “I’m a Navy SEAL. I’d like to see them keep me out.” The fact she was right only annoyed him more. “I’ll get in, don’t worry.”

  “How? By forcing your way in?” She crossed her arms. “I won’t bail you out of jail.”

  “Wouldn’t expect you to.” He flashed her a cold smile. “You made your feelings toward me quite clear earlier. I’m great for a fuck, not so much afterward. Loud and clear, darling.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  “I don’t know anything when it comes to you.” They’d stepped closer to each other, now toe-to-toe. “Why don’t you just say it? I’m not good enough to bring home to mommy and daddy.”

  “And why don’t you pull your head out of your butt for a second and stop being such a rebel for once? Rules aren’t always put there to confine you, you know. Sometimes they’re there for protection. And it isn’t you my parents would object to at this point. It’s any man they didn’t hand select for me. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re funny and smart and kind and generous and loyal to a fault. You’d put your life on the line for those you love without any thought for your personal safety and sacrifice everything for a cause you considered just. Any woman would be lucky to have you in her life.”

  A bit of the ice that had formed around his heart thawed at her words. That pretty pink color slowly crept up her cheeks again, letting him know she wasn’t as calm and collected as she pretended to be. And maybe, just maybe, she cared more about him than she was letting on. The thought had his blood running hot and his chest squeezing tight.

  Murphy leaned closer to her, his gaze flickering to her parted lips before returning to her wary eyes, his slow grin widening. “I’m sorry too. Now how do you suggest we go about finding out which of these senators is the one
who your receptionist friend met?”

  Her full lips twitched into a small smile. “You need a disguise. Maybe a delivery man. They go everywhere and no one thinks twice about it. A pair of plain overalls and a baseball hat should do it. We’ll get you a clipboard too and make some fake signing forms so it looks official. I’ll seal up an empty box and you can deliver it to the EnKor offices. While you’re there, you can casually lay your clipboard with the photos attached down on the receptionist’s desk and bring her attention to it. Then, hopefully, she’ll mention meeting one of them.”

  “Huh.” Murphy leaned back and nodded. “Not bad. There might be hope for you yet.”

  Shayma swatted his arm and walked over to the computer. “You too. Now let’s see about renting you a uniform to turn you into a delivery man.”

  * * *

  An hour later they were at a uniform rental company about a half a block from Aileen’s apartment. After signing the forms and paying the fees, they ducked into the back room so Murphy could change.

  While he slid the khaki slacks and shirt they’d rented, Shayma went through the bags from the office supply store and set up the clipboard with the sign-up sheets they’d printed and the senators’ photos. Then she taped together an empty box and scrawled an illegible address on the packing label so he’d have something to deliver to EnKor.

  Once he was set, they headed back out into the snowy, overcast New York day and headed toward the EnKor offices about two blocks away. The bags slung over her arms held his regular clothes and a few extra office supplies, in case problems arose.

  They paused outside the glass doors of the skyscraper and Shayma looked up at him. Even dressed in bland brown and with the brim of his baseball hat covering his hair and half his face, he was still the best-looking man she’d ever seen. She took a deep, steadying breath and forced a smile. “Ready?”