Dagger's Edge (SEALs On Fire) by Brenna Zinn Page B

the French doors, he turned on his heel and slammed into a huge potted fern sitting on a metal stand. His breath caught as the plant stand shifted precariously onto one of its three legs. As though time had suddenly altered to slow motion, Dagger watched helplessly while the weight of the fern succumbed to gravity. It fell and shattered with one ear-piercing crash, sending pieces of fern and white glazed pottery across the pristine porch.
    Dagger swore under his breath and looked back to the pool. Mia remained where she lay, though her sunglasses now topped her head like a sun goddesses’ crown. She picked up a remote control and pressed a button. The loud country music immediately silenced.
    “I thought you SEALs are supposed to be quiet like ninjas.” She tilted her head toward him and raised her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes. “Did you miss class the day they taught everyone how to be stealthy? Or did your commanders just take pity and pass you because they know you have the IQ of a squirrel?”
    Her verbal jab landed a direct hit exactly where she had to know it would hurt him most. His pride. Her favorite target. Since her freshman year in high school when she had attended some of the same classes he did due to her above-average intelligence, she’d used her superior smarts to dog him whenever she could. Negotiating with a troop of Al Qaeda terrorists was easier than trying to carry on a conversation with her. The woman was clever. Much too clever for the likes of him.
    Dagger took in a lungful of air and placed his mouth on safety while recanting the mantra learned in training. I am not letting this evolution get the best of me.
    “Hello to you, too, Mia.” Though he tried to prevent it, he couldn’t keep sarcasm from slipping into this voice. Nor could he stop looking at her amazing breasts. “Nice to see you.” Truer words had never passed his lips. The little she-devil looked damned amazing.
    She stood and tendrils of wet red hair fell over her shoulders. Water danced down her bronzed skin, seeping into intimate crevices he wished he could lick dry, then make moist all over again.
    He mentally shook his head. You’re here as a favor to Brice. Get your head on straight. Find out how she’s doing, then leave her just the way you found her—untouched—at least by you.
    “Nice to see me, too?” Mia stepped out of the pool. Her hips rocked like a boat on gentle waves as she sauntered to the house. “Do you like what you see, Dean?”
    Dean. When was the last time someone had actually called him by his real name? Dagger had used his code name in the military for so long, he’d almost forgotten he had another name. Another life.
    Refusing to bite her bait, Dagger focused his attention on the dirt and pottery spewed across the porch. “I made a mess over here. Why don’t you throw on a towel or something and get me a trash bag? I need to clean this up.” He lowered to one knee and picked several pieces of pot shards. Anything to avert his hungry stare from the luscious buffet of her body and hide the hard-on pressing against his shorts.
    Two bare feet connected to perfectly shaped calves appeared in his peripheral view. Knowing all too well a triangle of delicious goodness hovered only inches from his face if he lifted his head, Dagger trained his gaze to the floor. “Seriously, Mia. Don’t you have a robe or something?”
    “I thought Navy SEALs were tough and not afraid of anything.” She squatted, placing her mouth next to his ear. “Are you sure you’re really a SEAL? You seem awfully chicken to me.”
    Dagger’s back muscles tightened and his pulse quickened. Both clear signs his involuntary defense mechanism had kicked into gear. Fight or flee. Kill or be killed. Luckily his military conditioning, which was as much a part of him as breathing, overrode the powerful urge to strike back, or worse, to lie her flat on her back and taste every inch of her.
    “I don’t know what you