A SEAL's Fantasy. Tawny WeberЧитать онлайн книгу.

       3

      THREE HOURS LATER, Lara stepped off the bus, shifting her bag into the crook of one arm while she dug out her keys. She didn’t angle them like a weapon. Her neighborhood was run-down and on the cheap side, but it wasn’t sleazy like the alley behind the casino.

      It was the best she could afford. A far cry from what she’d grown up with, but a major step up from where she’d lived three years ago when she’d landed in Reno.

      That didn’t mean she was satisfied.

      Soon she’d be making good money, she promised herself as she crossed the street. She might not be able to swing the snooty gated community of her childhood, but she’d own a home. Not here in Reno. She wanted a place in the country, where she could look for miles and not see another person.

      Someday.

      Someday soon.

      Except that damned cab ride had cost her three days’ meals.

      She gritted her teeth. Leave it to Phillip to cost her more than she could afford.

      She’d stopped blaming the sexy hunk about an hour after she’d escaped.

      Sitting under the bright fluorescent lights of the classroom, she’d decided that tall, built and gorgeous was only the messenger. Between taking notes and coding HTML, she’d changed her mind about Phillip sending his friend. Maybe big brother had finally decided to clue her in about their parents’ death. Not one to get his lily-white hands dirty, he’d probably asked his friend to pass on a message. Guys being guys, the dimpled hunk had probably agreed out of loyalty.

      Phillip. Prince Perfect, as she’d called him growing up. She’d never have figured her uptight, upright brother to inspire that kind of devotion, but who knew. It’d been a lot of years since she’d seen him. Maybe he’d developed warmth, or oh, inspired miracle, even a little compassion in the last decade.

      Or the gorgeous messenger was simply a card-carrying member of the penis brigade, loyal to any and all who sported the same equipment.

      Men were funny that way.

      Lara knew the only person worthy of her loyalty was herself. It hadn’t taken long to figure that out—all she’d needed was for every single other person in her life to let her down before she’d clued in.

      Climbing the steps to her building, she felt the weight of the day pressing on her shoulders. She’d danced the matinee and the early show, escaped a gorgeous mountain, then attended both class and lab.

      She still had about twelve hours of homework before Monday night and eight shows to dance over the weekend. If she nailed this assignment, she’d have the top grade in the class. This cyberinspection program was the last of her course load and the school offered internships to the best graduating students with three top-flight security firms.

      Six more weeks and she’d be working for one of those three. With a happy sigh, she rounded the hallway to her corridor. A year’s internship while she still danced on the side and she’d be ready to go out on her own.

      Lara Lee, Cyber Detective.

      She grinned, then blinked. Frowning, she noted the hall lighting was out. Weird. The super was a lech, but he was a conscientious one.

      No biggie. She was the second door, so seeing her keyhole wasn’t a problem.

      She’d just gotten her key in the lock when she felt him.

      It wasn’t his body heat that tipped her off.

      Nope, it was the lust swirling through her system, making her knees weak and her nipples ache.

      Taking a deep breath, this time she did shift her keys between her knuckles as she turned around.

      “Do you always lurk in the shadows?” she asked.

      “Hall light is out. Shadows are all you’ve got here.”

      “What do you want?”

      “I already told you. I need to talk to you about your brother.”

      “And I already told you. I don’t have a brother.”

      Not anymore.

      “Lieutenant Phillip Banks. Of the Maryland Banks’s. Parents were Randall and Ellen. Dad owned an investment firm and dabbled in politics. Ring any bells?” His words were easy, the look in his eyes as mellow as the half smile on his full lips. “Brother went to Annapolis right out of school. Top honors, joined the Navy as an ensign.”

      Her eyes narrowed, noting the slight change in his tone. His expression didn’t change, but he didn’t sound as though he admired those accomplishments too much.

      “My last name is Lee.” All her legal documents said so. It’d cost her a quarter of the small trust her grandmother had left her to make sure of it when she’d run away. Then, before she could stop herself, she asked, “Why are you running errands for this guy, anyway?”

      His dark eyes flashed for a second before he gave a lazy shrug.

      “Sweetheart, do I look like anyone’s errand boy?” he asked, leaning his shoulder against the wall. He still blocked her exit. He was that big. But at least he wasn’t looming anymore.

      She couldn’t resist.

      She let her eyes wander down the long, gloriously hard length of his body. Broad shoulders and a drool-worthy chest tapered to flat abs, narrow hips and strong thighs. His boots were black, worn and very, very big.

      She wet her lips and met his eyes again.

      He didn’t look mellow now.

      He looked hot.

      As if he’d like to strip her down and play show-and-tell.

      Tempting, since she’d bet that’d be worth seeing.

      “Sorry,” she said truthfully. “I’m not the woman you’re looking for.”

      * * *

      DAMN.

      Not for the first time in his life, or even the first time today, Dominic cursed Banks. The guy was a major pain in the ass. Even while captured by a psychopathic drug lord, he was still causing trouble.

      Didn’t it figure that long, lean and sexy was gonna be just as bad.

      He wanted to grab her, haul her off to the nearest horizontal surface and show her exactly what he was looking for.

      Which meant they’d both be naked, there’d be a bottle of warm body oil and a bowl of whipped cream nearby, and he’d be showing her with his mouth.

      Insane.

      He was on a mission. It might not be recognized by the brass, but it’d been handed down by his superior officer. So to Castillo, it was a duty.

      She was his duty.

      He’d never lusted after a mission before.

      Not in the rock-hard-dick, blood-pounding-desire kind of way.

      He didn’t like it.