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Never Surrender. Lindsay McKennaЧитать онлайн книгу.

Never Surrender - Lindsay McKenna


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about. She’d given him her heart without games, manipulations or lies. That was the only way Bay knew how to be. And she had healed his heart in the process, taught him how to laugh once again, to love another once more.

      A ghostlike smile curved the corners of Gabe’s mouth as Bay’s shallow breath continued to calm him, anchor him to the here and now. At Camp Bravo as soon as they’d made eye contact, something magical, something beautiful, had occurred between them. He ran his fingers slowly up and down her arm. Her heart thudded slowly against his rib cage, and Gabe absorbed every beat of it into his soul. Bay was alive, so sensitive and kind to everyone.

      He continued to be amazed that she’d spent three years, half of them in combat with black ops teams, and still retained that sweet, simple disposition of a woman who held hope out for the hopeless. Bay had the inborn ability to pick someone like him up and, literally, change his life for the better. What kind of titanium steel backbone did she possess? A damned strong one, for sure. Combat changed people, and yet, Gabe had watched her handle it. Bay was...remarkable. A stunning example of a strong, passionate woman who knew what she wanted out of her life.

      Gabe felt the corners of sleep tugging at him, dragging him downward as his heart started to beat in rhythm with Bay’s. She had chosen him as her partner. How lucky could he get? Of all the men on earth, Bay chose him. His last feelings were a deluge of love smothering him, dissolving his mind and taking him to that place of peace and tranquility, his woman in his arms, at his side. As it should be.

      * * *

      BAY AWAKENED SLOWLY, wrapped in a sense of protection and love. Dragging her eyes open, she lay on her left side. Gabe’s slow, deep breathing brought a soft smile to her lips. She was home. She was at his side once more. Easing up on her elbow, she watched the morning light peeking around the dark drapes at the window that faced the Pacific Ocean, which surrounded Coronado Island.

      Her gaze moved lovingly across his sleeping features. Gabe’s hair was military short, mussed, softening the hard look and lines in his weathered, darkly tanned face. In sleep was the only time he looked vulnerable to Bay. Awake, he was a SEAL warrior, alert, always watchful, on guard. And how sweetly he bristled over his need to protect her. He was like a knight from King Arthur’s Round Table that she’d read about so often when growing up as a child. She remembered her mama reading about Sir Galahad, Sir Lancelot and beautiful Guinevere. At times she would lay out in a field of wildflowers, hands behind her head, watching puffy white clouds slowly move by. Sometimes, she imagined shapes within them of these powerful knights on mighty chargers who saved others.

      The corners of her mouth tugged upward as she absorbed Gabe’s sleeping face. She took in his rugged features, trying to imagine his childhood, how horrible it had been on him. His drunken father had used him as a punching bag. He’d made sure to conceal the damage and bruises done by his fists and leather belt. And his father had made sure it was hidden from his mother, Grace. All he’d known as a kid was that fatherly love packed a fist and a punch. His father had sworn he’d kill his mother if Gabe ever breathed a word of his punishment to Grace. Bay couldn’t imagine how it would have affected her emotionally.

      Tears gathered in her eyes momentarily as she imagined his past. A few dark strands lay across Gabe’s broad, lined brow. She wanted to reach out and gently tame them back into place. Bay knew if she did, he’d instantly awaken and become fully alert. On guard. Looking for an enemy. That’s what SEALs did; they took the fight to the enemy and they were always in harm’s way. They learned in BUD/S that five-minute combat naps could carry them for days without real sleep. Resisting the urge because she knew Gabe had just come out of intense training himself, Bay didn’t move. She wanted him to sleep.

      Her fingers itched to touch his darkly haired chest, run her index finger across his full lower lip that knew how to bring her world into a fiery cauldron of hungry need for him alone. No one could love her to the depth and breadth that Gabe could love her. It was simply a part of his being able to touch not only her willing body, but gently hold her heart in his large, scarred hands and twine her soul with his own.

      Drawing in a ragged breath, her body responded, knowing Gabe loved her on every possible level. How had she drawn such an incredible man like this to her? He was Sir Lancelot, and she was his Guinevere. He was a warrior. She was a healer. He knew combat, and so did she. And all they wanted was to find peace and sanctuary from a crazed world in the arms of one another.

      Gabe shifted, his breathing changing.

      Bay watched, mesmerized. SEALs had an almost telepathic and clairvoyant sense about them. They were such finely honed warriors in combat that their sixth sense was operational, much like an invisible radar moving three-hundred-and-sixty degrees around them all the time.

      Gabe slowly emerged from sleep. He sensed her watching him, and although it wasn’t threatening, Gabe still felt her eyes—and her love—upon him.

      His lashes fluttered. A soft smile played across her lips as Bay observed the slow opening of those drowsy forest-green eyes, now looking in her direction.

      “I love waking up with you,” she whispered, leaning across Gabe, her breasts skimming his chest, her mouth grazing his. Bay kissed him chastely, with love, not with sex on her mind.

      Gabe’s mouth gently took hers, his arms wrapping around her. He groaned and pulled her more tightly against him. She reveled in the strength and yet, the utter tenderness of his mouth cherishing hers. Bay drank in Gabe’s breath, like life feeding her, opening her heart even more. His hard, lean muscles flexed against hers, drowning in the splendor of his mouth, making her feel hunger for him all over again.

      Easing back, Bay broke the kiss, drowning in his expression. He watched her, his hands framing her face, holding her prisoner. His pupils were large and black, a thin crescent of green surrounding them. Bay could feel Gabe coming awake on every level, absorbing his intensity, his powerful, consuming love for her.

      “Can we do this every morning for the rest of our lives?” he rasped, smiling up into her sleepy features. Bay’s warmth, her womanly curves fit perfectly against his body. Her full mouth drew into a wry smile, her blue eyes sparkling.

      “Soon,” she promised huskily.

      Grunting, he released her for a moment, pushed himself into an upright position, the covers falling away to his hips. “Not soon enough,” Gabe growled, dragging Bay into his arms, guiding her head against his shoulder. Bay slid her arm around his waist. Nostrils flaring, he hungrily inhaled her sweet scent. Bay had a special fragrance, a natural one that sent him into a powerful sexual response.

      Gabe knew she had to be sore from their lovemaking last night. He needed to hold off and let her relax. Today was for Bay. He’d been planning it in his mind for months since they’d been separated. Love, she had taught him, had so many aspects. Love wasn’t always about sex, although, God knew, Gabe always wanted to be in her, love her, make her smile and sigh and watch her eyes grow sleepy and sated because he’d love her so thoroughly and completely.

      “Want a hot bath?” he asked, his lips pressed against her hair, the curls tickling him.

      “Mmm, that sounds wonderful. Are you joining me?”

      God, how he wanted to, but Gabe knew better. “No, you need some down time, baby. We went at it pretty hard last night.” And then he smiled. “Pardon my pun.” Gabe traded a boyish grin with her.

      She sighed, closed her eyes and squeezed him. “I’ve never made love in a shower before.”

      “You said you wanted to swim with the sharks.”

      Laughing softly, Bay nodded. “So I did. It was my fault, but I’m not sorry. Are you?”

      “Sorry for loving you?” Gabe pressed a kiss to her brow, the curls soft and silky around her temple. “Never. I’ll have to be dead and gone before that would happen.” A chuckle rumbled up through his broad chest.

      “That’s true,” Bay whispered, turning her cheek to kiss the strong column of his neck. “A bath sounds perfect....”

      “Then let me get


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