Claiming Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 1) by Kat Cantrell Page A

dark beach without a flashlight? Have you learned nothing about the dangers around here?”
    She smiled and it washed over him, drawing him into her orbit where very bad things were going to happen. But he couldn’t tear himself free.
    “I knew if I kept walking, I find you. You won’t let anything happen to me.”
    “I’m one of the dangers, Emma!” God, would nothing he said ever get through to this woman?
    “Yeah, so you say. Let’s put that to the test, shall we?” Without warning, she whirled and headed toward the silvery water, glancing over her shoulder with an enigmatic little pucker of her lips. “Coming?”
    His feet started following her without his permission, and he forced himself to stop, digging his toes into the sand. “What are you doing?”
    Duh. She was wading into the water. But then the first lick of foam rushed over her neon-green painted toenails and she froze, going so still, his palm came up automatically to reassure her even though he was too far away to actually touch her.
    Why was she too far away to touch?
    A strangled whimper floated to him on the soft breeze and it sounded a hell of a lot like Dex .
    She needed him.
    He took a step, cursed, and then spit out a few more choice phrases. Looked like he’d be doing the Hokey Pokey tonight himself. That’s what it was all about, and he’d conveniently dressed for the occasion. Totally by accident, but when a guy practically lived in the water, all of this seemed strangely inevitable.
    The tide rushed over his bare feet as he waded after Emma, and then he was close enough to touch her. So he did. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m here.”
    When his palm spread across her back, she leaned into it. His eyelids snapped closed as a sharp thrill rocketed through his body. They had no other contact save the expanse of his hand covering mere inches of her bare skin, and he was already so hard and aching with unrestrained hunger, his knees started to quake.
    “Take another step,” he commanded softly. “I’ll go with you.”
    She did and he did.
    “Dex.” That strangled whimper was going to be the death of him. “Why can’t I do this by myself?”
    He shook his head. “That’s the wrong question. You’re not by yourself. The right question is, how far can you go while I’m with you?”
    Her soft little sigh bled through him, burrowing under his skin like a thousand needles. That was the pleasure and pain a woman could bring, and he craved Emma like he craved his next breath. His entire existence was a paradox: he was good at killing, but hated that he could pull the trigger without reservation. He thrived on community, but sought out relationships with people who had worse emotional problems than he did so he could pretend he was all right.
    He wanted to be the kind of guy who could be with Emma, and mourned that he couldn’t erase who was.
    “Closer,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”
    This time, that strangled whimper rumbled in his own chest.
    “Dex. I want to see how far I can go.”
    Yeah, he wasn’t so dense that he didn’t get the metaphor here. The deeper into the ocean they went, the more immovable hooks she sank into his flesh. The harder it would be to shake loose of the spell the moonlight and Emma wove, snaring him firmly.
    It would hurt to break away this time.
    Understanding it didn’t change it. Which meant there was really no other choice but to nestle her into the crook of his arm, settling his palm against her waist. Dear Lord, how did she fit in that spot so snugly? She was too short. It shouldn’t have worked. But oh, it did.
    Her torso brushed against his as she dragged oxygen into her lungs, then receded as she exhaled. He held his own breath until she did it again. And that wasn’t going to work. He needed air. She’d already made him dizzy enough with the way she’d whimpered his name.
    “Better?” he asked hoarsely, though how it could be was beyond him.
    She nodded, peering up at him with those baby