Operation Heartbeat (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #1)

EIGHT

The infinity pool shimmered turquoise under the cloudless sky, the smooth water feeling like a calm against the chaos that Sophie and Con chased.

She rested against a plump lounge chair cushion and let out a small sigh of contentment. “What a view.”

In the chair beside her, Con looked up from the laptop he was working on and gave the Istanbul skyline his full attention.

If the view was arresting, Con’s rugged profile was heart-stopping.

She studied his fine, straight nose and the hard angle of his cheek and jaw, his eyes fixed on some horizon as if he were able to see much more than most humans did. With his training, she didn’t doubt his mind analyzed everything from ways to defend them in the hotel room to potential threats by air.

She set aside her laptop and stood with a stretch. She’d been staring at screens for endless hours now. While her inner type A personality pushed her to complete the job she’d started, her logical mind told her there was no way she could do that without taking a break.

“I’m going to take a swim.”

He didn’t respond to her announcement, not that she was waiting for one. She crossed the textured concrete to the edge of the pool and dropped the thin cotton swim coverup.

A faint noise like car gears grinding fluttered on the breeze toward her. She pivoted and shot Con a glance from the corner of her eye. The man hadn’t budged from his chair. Unlike her, who’d come outside prepared for the hot weather in a swimsuit and coverup, Con was fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

She eyed him, unable to envision him in tourist attire of shorts or lightweight linen pants. Not Con’s style.

His gaze seemed to hover around her knees. Before he could catch her gawking at him, she dipped a toe in the water and found it surprisingly warm.

She issued a low chuckle. “I’m used to cold swimming pools. Growing up, we swam in lakes in Massachusetts.”

He made a humming noise in his throat but didn’t seem to want to engage. She adjusted the straps of her black one-piece, walked to the deep end of the pool and performed a perfect dive.

She sliced through the water and came up with a light splash. Okay, she might have been showing off her diving skills just a bit. She’d practiced enough to try to outdo her big brother, and she swam on the high school team when her nose wasn’t in a book.

In smooth strokes, she crossed the pool, did a swift turn and swam the length back. After only a few laps, she lay on her back, floating, and stared up at the sky.

Even though the sky was empty of clouds, her mind was far from blank. She’d memorized the letters of that first cryptogram, and they played through her head in a loop. She’d looked at them left, right and upside down and still hadn’t come to any answers about what they meant.

When she grew tired of floating, she swam another couple laps and then climbed the steps out of the pool. A stack of thick towels was on a rack against one wall, and she had to pass in front of Con to grab one.

As she did, she swore she felt the heat of his gaze burning into her. The sensation made her stomach dip, and she hurried to wrap herself in a towel. She stretched out on her lounge chair in the sun to soak up the rays and allow that puzzle to roll through her mind.

“I’m going to place a call to my team.”

She opened her eyes and lifted her head off the chair to peek at Con. “Do you need me to go inside?”

“No.” The tendon in the crease of his jaw was balled up tight again. She couldn’t think what might be annoying him, but if she’d learned anything from her divorce, it was that it wasn’t her job to figure it out. She wasn’t responsible for Benjamin’s emotions, or Con’s or anybody else’s. Only her own.

“As long as I’m not bothering you,” she said and let her eyes drift shut once more. The heat sank into her pores bit by bit, relaxing her body. She wished her mind would relax too—she’d have a much better chance of solving that cryptogram if she could just get out of her head .

“Chickie. I’m just checking in to see if you heard anything new.”

“Man, are you by the pool? It looks like you have a tough gig. Really in the trenches there. Is that a tan I see on your face?”

Sophie stole a peek at Con. When he said he was making a call, she didn’t realize it would be a video call. And what kind of phone did he have, anyway? She’d never seen tech like that.

He set his feet flat on each side of the chair, pushing into a sitting position. That meant the phone shifted in his hand, giving the guy on the line a new view.

“Is that your bride sitting next to you?”

“Sophie is here. You know that.” Con sounded like he could grind nails with his molars.

“Dude, did you compliment her? She looks smokin’.”

With a grunt, Con swiped the big pad of his thumb over the screen and mashed an earbud into his ear, cutting off the team from her hearing.

She lay there in shock. Her? Smokin’? She was practically prudish in her black swimsuit that came up high on the neck and had wide straps, not strings. By definition, Sophie had never been the pretty girl.

Only blonde bimbos ever attracted her ex, and he’d run through several Barbie doll grad students before he finally took one to bed. Those young women with perfect bodies were nothing like Sophie.

Con seemed to take control of the call from that point forward, and it was all talk of the next step of the mission. Sophie stole another look at that phone. She really wanted to check it out.

As soon as he ended the call, he removed the earbud and pushed off the chair. He started to pocket the phone.

“Hey, can I see that?” She jumped up.

He cut his gaze over her body. The sun had dried what the towel didn’t, and her suit was only damp. Even the ends of her hair were beginning to dry where they trailed over her shoulders.

“See what?”

“Your phone. Is it a SAT phone?” She reached out to take it, but he jerked his hand back in a game of keep-away.

“You can’t see it. It’s classified.”

Her brows puckered. “I’m given clearances to dig through sensitive information about a terrorist, and listen in on your conversation with Chickie, but I can’t look at a phone?”

He twitched his jaw left, then right in a definite shake of his head.

“I’m not going to break it, and those secret photos you keep in a locked file are safe from me. I just want to have a look at how it works.” She made another grab for the phone.

He switched the device to the other hand and grabbed her shoulder, holding her at arm’s length.

About the time she realized how ridiculous this entire exchange was, she felt the heat of his warm skin blazing through her flesh. Every callus on his fingers seemed to brand her.

His dark eyes captured hers so she couldn’t look away. “Professor.”

The way he said that sounded like a caress.

“Con.” Why did her voice sound like she’d swum a mile rather than a few measly laps?

“Goddammit, woman.” He hooked his arm around her waist and yanked her onto tiptoe.

She tilted her face up, heart hammering beneath her swimsuit so hard she was certain he must see it.

With a will of their own, her arms lifted. Toward the end of her marriage, hugging Benjamin felt as if her arms were bound in heavy chains. With Con, they were as light as feathers.

“Sophie,” he said much, much softer.

He leaned in and claimed her mouth.

Her initial gasp of surprise was swallowed by the rumble of his groan. He yanked her flush against him and kept on tugging until there wasn’t a sliver of space between them.

How had she ended up in his arms? Oh yeah…the phone. Then she forgot all about the phone in favor of Con’s lips.

She closed her eyes to relish their perfect hardness even as she applied more pressure with her own. When he responded by pressing his fingertips into her spine, she gave in to the pull he had on her.

He angled his head.

She parted her lips. The sweep of his tongue across hers drew a moan from both of them. Cupping his jaw with both hands, she threw herself into kissing the SEAL as though she had nothing to lose.

Well, there was her pride to be crushed, but that wasn’t even a factor considering he’d kissed her first.

Deepening the caress, he plunged his free hand into her damp hair and shifted her where he wanted her. Each delve of his tongue alternating with slow, shallow flicks made her pussy squeeze with desire and her nipples throb to be touched.

He ran his hand down her spine, raising more tingles in his wake. When he skimmed a fingertip under the curve of her buttock, her mind splintered.

Then he followed the line of her swimsuit, moving slowly up to her hip. A shudder of desire ripped through her.

She wanted this man—badly.

A buzzing noise like a pesky fly filled her ears. She raised a hand to swat it away and suddenly realized that something was vibrating between her and Con.

He ripped his mouth away. The gleam in his eyes slowly faded like a candle being carried down a long hallway and then snuffed out.

His phone was buzzing.

Releasing his grip on her, he stepped back to gain more distance. He grabbed for his phone and snapped it to his ear. When he answered, “Con,” the syllable held a grating edge.

“You’re sure?” he asked the speaker on the other end.

Sophie dragged in a steadying breath. Should she stay? Go?

Definitely go.

While he spoke in monosyllables, she hurried to the edge of the pool and retrieved her abandoned coverup. She was just about to slip through the glass doors leading into the room when Con’s words floated to her.

“Count us in. Copy.” He ended the call, but she continued into their room.

“Sophie, come back here.”

Why did that sound like she had done something wrong? She spun around and nearly tripped because he stood so close.

He reached across her and pulled the door shut. “We need to talk.”

She raked all ten of her fingers through her hair. “There’s nothing to say, Con. It was just a-a… moment . We don’t need to hash out—”

He broke across her. “It’s not about the kiss, Sophie. We have orders. For tonight.”

She blinked up at him. Wasn’t about the kiss? Who could think about anything but the kiss?

“We’re going out tonight, Sophie. I hope you brought a nice dress.”

* * * * *

Even that prissy black swimsuit that came up to Sophie’s neck somehow manage to look sexy on her.

Dammit, Con’s cock still thudded with the heated blood in his veins. He swiped his tongue across his lips and tasted her. He was going to come unhinged if he didn’t stop thinking about getting her into his bed.

Without a wall of pillows between them.

Without a stitch of clothing between them.

After she scraped her fingers through her damp hair, it looked even sexier. Tousled in a way that made him wonder how she would look after she came.

Fuck.

He cleared his throat with a forceful gust. “There’s a party.”

“We’re going to a party?” Her expression was skeptical but her eyes were luminous with the same light he’d seen right before he lost his mind and kissed her.

“Yeah. Diplomats, politicians and a lot of wealthy businessmen will be there.”

“I have a dress.”

He stared down at her for a beat, trying to force his mind to follow what she’d said about a dress when all he could see was that silly black swimsuit.

She gazed up into his eyes for three full heartbeats before she pushed open the door and disappeared inside.

Christ, her round ass and the sway of her hips made his cock like pure steel.

He stood there a moment, wondering if he had time to jack himself to completion before the party.

Before he could claim temporary insanity, he stepped off the terrace into the room. Luckily, Sophie was already out of sight.

If he could drink on the job, he’d consider snagging one of the mini bottles from the bar on the way to the bedroom. Hell, he might need it. Walking in on Sophie in a state of undress would surely send him over the edge.

He discovered her in the bedroom—wearing that filmy swimsuit coverup that didn’t leave much to the imagination. She was rifling through her suitcase.

“You can hang your things up in the closet.”

“I didn’t have time before. I don’t now either.” She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. “Aha!” She plucked a high heel from the depths of her bag. The strappy shoe was nothing like what he’d expect from a stuffy professor. Up until now, he’d only seen her in simple clothes that all pointed to Sophie being modest.

Except her bra and panties were feminine and sexy as hell. And when he’d gotten her clothes off and thrown her in the pool, she’d been all over him like a second skin.

His cock jerked against his fly, hard as nails.

He had to quit watching her. “You take the bathroom first. I’ll dress in the other room.”

“Okay,” she sang out. With a liquid black dress draped over her forearm and those high heels in the other, she hurried into the bathroom.

He stared after her.

The thump of the door slamming behind her felt like a goddamn challenge.

He scrubbed a hand over his face to erase the image of the loose fabric swishing around her calves.

Really, man? Her calves? Are you going to get turned on by a little ankle too?

He grabbed his suit and tie and went into the sitting room to dress. Even getting five feet away from Sophie allowed him a little more space in his brain for what mattered—the ops.

Intel had uncovered a few names connected with their suspect. He went by Bayar in his phone, but Con had seen aliases before. Any person involved in deep terrorism like they suspected he was didn’t show off his real name to the world.

Their order was to get to the party and find a certain businessman linked to Bayar and make contact. Their guise of being a couple would make it easier to blend in with the crowd.

He adjusted his tie by feel alone, then reached for a pair of glasses.

“Whoa.”

Sophie walked in, looking like she was about to walk the red carpet in that dress. He skimmed his gaze over her. The high neck was no surprise, but it acted like more of a necklace around her throat and her arms were bare except for a line of gold bracelets circling one wrist.

He let his gaze continue down her body. At her feet, his gut clenched.

Jesus. He was going to get turned on by a little ankle. The dress ended a few inches above the straps of her high heels, which made her ankles look slim and sexy as hell.

He shook himself.

“You look really different in glasses.” Her breasts pushed against her dress in a small heave.

He faced her fully. “Different good or different bad?”

“Different good…” She peered closer. “Oh my god. Are those recording glasses?”

“That’s the only reason I’d need glasses. I have perfect vision.”

“Can I see them?” Just like the incident with the SAT phone earlier—the one that almost got his dick buried nine and a half inches deep inside her—she was extremely curious about the glasses.

He pulled off the glasses and held them out to her. “Knock yourself out. I’ll just be a minute.”

She took the glasses from him, and he walked into the bedroom. He stopped in his tracks as his gaze fell on the top of the dresser. A little glass bottle sat there next to a hairbrush.

In three strides he reached the dresser and snatched up the bottle. Lure Noire.

The perfume. He gripped the glass and brought it to his nose. A single sniff had his mind sparking with interest.

Had she put it on? Why else would it be sitting on the dresser?

He let out a little groan and stalked to his bag to grab his wallet.

After slipping the thin leather bifold into an inside pocket of his jacket, he was set. Well, except for the thickening of his cock. He glanced in the mirror to check if he was tenting his pants, but he didn’t think Sophie would notice.

She definitely would never know that one sniff of her perfume had done that to him.

When he walked into the sitting room again, Sophie swung toward him, the glasses perched on her small, upturned nose.

Fuck.

How many times was he going to mentally curse in reaction to her?

She gave him a sheepish glance and slipped the glasses off. “Sorry.” When she handed them back to him, the bracelets clinked softly.

“Do you have everything you need?” He forced himself not to step forward and try to catch a whiff of that perfume. She was already driving him crazy with her damn shoes, that dress… Dammit, everything about her.

Between the bedroom and now, he’d made up his mind about what was going to happen tonight. The minute she was asleep, he was going to pump out a load just to work the woman out of his thoughts.