The Soul of a SEAL Read online

  Bennett righted her, and his hands dropped away from her gorgeous form. “Dr. Warren…”

  Kimberly looked up at him. Her hands settled on her hips. Frowning, she said, “Captain, it was me. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I needed to consult with you anyway.”

  “You were…looking for me…”

  “I…I have files for you.” The way she was groping for words meant he definitely had an effect on her. At least they were both in the same boat. Besides, his gut told him that she was an ally, wanting to get the shuttle off the ground and to find out who had killed the SEALs.

  She pushed several files into his hands. “If you’ll excuse me.” She stepped around him, making a wide arc. Before she rounded the next corner, she stole a glance at him and blushed.

  He smiled at her. Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so drawn to a woman. The scent of lavender still filled his senses, and a hint of something else. Not rosewater. What was it, jasmine? Mmm, intoxicating.

  Yes, Dr. Kimberly Warren was intriguing…and he wanted to know what happened when she let her guard—and all that thick, inky black hair—down completely. He tucked the files under his arm and forced his mind away from her alluring qualities and back to work.

  Chapter 3

  A soft light grew subtly brighter until her room was fully lit. The sound of chimes brought her the rest of the way out of her slumber. Her computer, Sally, had a pleasant way of rousing her, and it brought a smile to her lips.

  Kimberly Warren practically hopped out of bed, ready to start her day at the early hour of 0500. If she were a singer or a person who hummed, she’d have been doing that too. Was it strange that Captain Sheraton was the source of this odd delight? His fingers brushing her skin had sent electricity zipping up her arm. She wondered what would happen if he touched something else.

  Heat flooded her cheeks. There was something unique about that man. She had instantly felt like she could trust him, and her need to know him better could definitely become a serious distraction. Yes, she had read his file, but she wanted to know more…intimate details. His full story had to be interesting. He had just turned forty with no kids, no wife, and no significant other—not even a dog. Could someone live without attachments?

  She supposed she had…though she did have Sally, and all of her inventions. Those counted, didn’t they?

  If she could have a pet, she would. Animals were an impractical luxury at the Lester Facility; even she could admit that Sally was half pet and half friend. Artificial intelligence could be an enormous comfort, and it was a lifesaver. She’d be pretty lonely without it.

  At twenty-nine, thirty years old in a month and half, she’d almost reached one of her greatest life goals: space. With her thumb and forefinger, Kimberly pulled the plastic guard from her teeth and plopped it into the glass of cleaning solution on her nightstand.

  Temporomandibular Joint Dysfunction—TMJ—was sooo sexy! They say being a teeth grinder was a “thinking person’s malady.” If only turning her brain off could be so simple, maybe her joint wouldn’t act like a sliding hinge linking her skull and jawbone, causing random pain and clicking. Her dentist told her to meditate. She preferred beating the crap out of a punching bag in the Lester Facility’s gym.

  Taking several tissues into her hand, she gently dabbed at the night-cream residue clinging to her face. She repeated the action several times before reaching for the astringent.

  Graduating high school at eleven and then completing her bachelor’s in electrical engineering and dual master’s degrees in mechanical engineering and astrophysics by the age of twenty didn’t win her many friends. But it did earn her significant grant money and a plethora of jobs. Since she was a little girl, she’d known that her heart was in the stars. Her earliest memories were of her mother, showing her the heavens through a telescope. Traveling around the world with her and listening to the lectures her mother delivered filled the brightest part of her mind and soul. When her mother abruptly passed away at a young age, Kimberly began her race to space.

  Nothing would ever get in the way of her quest, not even her attraction to Sheraton. For the past decade, her life had been devoted to the cause, and she had a very strong feeling that with Sheraton on board, they would finally reach their goal.

  When she opened the door to the bathroom, a cloud of hot air blasted her in the face. When her vision cleared, her jaw dropped. The man she had been obsessing over all night was standing in front of her, toweling off.

  His back was to her, and from her vantage point, he not only had amazing muscles through his shoulders, arms, and back, but he also had a great backside. Firm, bitable, rounded cheeks with two dimples above them, as though she could squeeze tight and…

  “Dr. Warren?” His voice was a baritone, and the timbre hit spots inside of her that longed to have him whispering in her ear. He cleared his throat.

  Her eyes lifted to his. She had no words as a flush that began in her toes rose to the top of her head. If she were to walk four feet to the mirror and look, she knew she would see herself as red as a cherry tomato. “Uh…s-s-sorry…” she finally said. What a time to stutter! Rubbing her hands together, she walked to the glass-enclosed shower, opened the door, turned on the water, and then took off her silk teddy and matching silk panties. It was time to be bold.

  Glancing over her shoulder, it was her turn to smile. His jaw was practically on the floor.

  “Can you hand me my loofah?” She turned toward him and pointed to the shelf next to the sink. “The fluffy pink one.”

  He nodded his head, but it was several seconds before he turned and complied with her request. As he closed the distance between, she congratulated herself on being courageous…for changing the rules and making the playing field between them level. She’d seen his, and now he’d seen hers. That was out of the way, and they could move forward.

  She put out her hand for the loofah, her smile smug and delighted. What she hadn’t prepared for…was him pulling her gently, and oh, so tenderly, against him so the heat of his body seared hers, and then kissing her until she was gasping for air as her hands held on to his biceps for dear life.

  Time froze and the kiss lasted forever, or maybe it was only several seconds. It was hard to tell, because all thought had fled from her mind. When he urged her against the shower wall and slowly pulled away, she saw his smile—one of such male satisfaction that anger bloomed inside of her.

  “That’s why they call me…Boss. Well, one of the reasons.” He waited, as if he wanted her to respond.

  She couldn’t believe the idiot was just standing there. Why did he have to speak? Why doesn’t the male species know when to leave well enough alone? That kiss had been amazing! If only he’d chosen to be a gentleman, and mute. She sighed as she gave in to her emotion.

  “Out!” she said indignantly. Men! She’d get him back in less than half an hour, when his first duty of the morning would be regurgitating his breakfast onto his lap.

  Oddly enough, she didn’t regret the kiss. His tenderness was memorable and surprising. Even in his rush to kiss her, he had been kind, gentle, and sweet. She’d never felt that mellow sensibility in a man. The heat of him was still there, pressed into her skin, and she…honestly wanted more.

  But not right now. There was work to do. So she pushed on his stomach to make him leave faster and slammed the shower door as best she could. Shower doors could be woefully anticlimactic! Then she turned the shower on, setting the dial to a much colder temperature than she was used to. It braced her as she rushed through her routine. There was no sense in dawdling when there was work—and in Boss’s case, some mischief—to be performed.

  * * *

  Jogging to the hangar had released some of the tension lacing through his body. He was used to a ten-mile run every day, about two hours of lifting, and additional cardio on top of that to keep in shape. Today it
felt like he was slacking, even though he was on a mission.

  From the open hangar door, Bennett could see the sky was clear: no clouds, which meant no low ceiling for their flying excursion today. When he received a text on his phone to meet Dr. Warren at Hangar C on the far side of the Lester Facility for a test flight, he’d been thrilled. For one thing, he might be able to pilot a new machine. Any day he was in the air—whether it was a hang glider, parachute, jet, or just a regular plane—was a plus in his opinion.

  Besides, Dr. Warren was what men would call a “sleeping hottie”: quiet in public, with the promise of a fierce, raw beauty in private. Perhaps he was just the man to inspire her, or perhaps she would draw out the secretive side of his soul.

  Focusing on the machine in front of him, he admired those lines instead. Bennett examined the contraption before him, visually cataloging all of the possibilities. It wasn’t a car and it wasn’t a plane, yet it was both. He scratched his chin as he tried to figure out how they were going to get inside.

  The smell of fuel was a welcome distraction as he walked around the object of his fascination, wondering if he would get brownie points for figuring out how to make it function. A voice spoke from directly behind him, and he startled.

  Man, she is a quiet one! He knew how to shake things up and break the silence. “I noticed that your file was not listed in the personnel records,” he said. “I definitely need to know this, for security purposes. Are you currently dating anyone?”

  “What? Hardly!” Her face flushed with red splotches. Embarrassment looked adorable on her. “Trust me, you couldn’t keep up with me, Captain.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. That statement was definitely a dare. His inquiry was an icebreaker. Did he really want to date her? Yes, he did. His eyes strayed to her figure; the voluptuous hips and rounded backside drew him like sweet succulent red flowers did a hummingbird. She was tempting. “I’ve got skills, lady, ones you’d never guess.”

  Two mechanics entered the hangar. He cleared his throat and motioned with his head toward them.

  She gave him a half smile in acknowledgment. “Right. So. Um, glad to see you’re, uh, on time. I’d like to introduce you to a versatile vehicle I call the CarP,” said Kimberly. She pulled a key fob from her pocket and touched the center button. The contraption beeped, and the wings shifted slowly backward, revealing a door on either side. They lifted out and up, like a DeLorean.

  “Impressive.”

  “Wait until you see the inside.” She cleared her throat. “Bennett, you need to blend more. Consider what you’re wearing—black cargo pants, gray sweater, and a gray polo shirt?” she asked him. “You scream Spec Ops. Bennett, you need to study how to dress like a geek. Otherwise you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb around here.”

  “There are other military personnel on the project. I’m not changing. The less acting I have to do, the better. Right?”

  “Fine.” Looking up at him, she added, “Don’t blend, Mr. Smarty-Pants. But keep in mind that I’m the boss in this vehicle. Got it?”

  He pursed his lips and nodded his head. Who was she to say that he wasn’t dressed appropriately? Was she a fashion plate? She looked normal to him. Dr. Warren was wearing a long-sleeved North Face T-shirt that clung to her curves as if she were a marble statue on display. Her jeans were fitted, and her hiking boots were worn. She was ready for a day off, not a flight. Shouldn’t she be wearing a flight suit or something?

  His mind flew through several compromising images. Nuts! What was he thinking?! He was contemplating their clothes lying in a pile on the floor as he made love to her. Maybe it wasn’t such a smooth move to have kissed her in the bathroom. There was no way he could have resisted that moment. It was practically perfect. With a body like a model and a mind to rival any of his SEAL brothers, it was hard not to be attracted to her. And it was seriously impossible to ignore the effect she had on him, even for this shot at a ride into space. He’d have to figure out some other way to deal with the attraction. When he left that bathroom this morning, his cock had been so hard, he could have used it as a construction tool.

  Melo had made some pretty humorous remarks, too. “Should I get you some nails? I see the crane, where’s the load? How about pointing that jackhammer in someone else’s direction?” The best one was, “I didn’t realize you felt that way about me. I’m married, you prick,” and then Melo had laughed until tears streamed down his face.

  The worst part had been pulling on clothes and trying to convince his body that it needed to chill out. If he was being truthful, he still had a pretty decent chub-on for Dr. Warren right at this minute. He shifted his feet, though no movement was going to take away this predicament. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She frowned at him. “You are welcome to address me as Dr. Warren or Kimberly, but never as ma’am, as I’m not yet a hundred years old. Got it?”

  He leaned closer to her, knowing that his scent would envelop her. It was his lavender soap, the one he left in the shower, which he personally enjoyed using when he was in town. On an Op, no one wanted to smell like anything but the environment they were in. Safety first! With “boots on the ground” at home, lavender soap was his favorite scent, and it would smell musky on him. Women had told him in the past that it was heavenly. Did she think so, too?

  Her nostrils flared, and instead of being offended, he watched her breathe in the scent slowly and deeply. He smiled. “Yes, Kimberly.”

  She swayed slightly, and then seemed to catch herself. “To work, Captain Sheraton. If you will take the right side and be my copilot… I assume you read the manual last night.”

  “No, Kimberly. I did not realize that today was the day we were going to soar in a flying car. Have you crashed much?” He teased her, but there was a part of him that was annoyed she’d tapped him and he wasn’t prepared. That wasn’t like him. As a SEAL, he arrived early or on time, and like most Boy Scouts, was overly prepared for any eventuality. Crap—he realized there was this “desire” to please her. He actually wanted to impress her.

  She ignored the barb.

  He sighed as he walked around the vehicle and got inside. He was a pilot and a very quick study. He could make do.

  The controls were similar to a small aircraft, with the exception of a row of panels along the top and down the center. As he strapped himself in, he studied them, attempting to figure out what each one was for.

  Her hand touched his arm. “Relax. I’ll walk you through everything.” She placed a fob onto the dash. It stuck like a magnet, and a computer voice asked, “What is your command?”

  He recognized the voice. “Is that Sally?”

  “Yes, pretty cool, right?” Kimberly didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she gave a command to start the car and to drive in manual mode, and off they went. As they headed out of the hangar, Bennett enjoyed the ride.

  They were silent for a long time as she drove down a dirt road going away from the Lester Facility. Finally, he said, “Impressive.”

  She smiled.

  He watched her whole face bloom with joy. It almost took his breath away, or maybe it was just because in that moment the wings extended and the rotary blades sprang to life and blasted them upwards. “You could warn a guy,” he said, swallowing his eggs for the second time that morning.

  “There’s a puke bag under your seat. I will kill you if you get anything on my controls.”

  He nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a few more seconds. Note to self: no eggs on launch day.

  A few breaths later and Bennett’s digestive issues were gone. Mind over matter was a necessity in the Teams, and one of the first lessons they taught their tadpoles, a.k.a. trainees, during BUD/S.

  As Kimberly pointed out the various panels and their uses, Bennett lost himself in his fascination and appreciation of the vehicle. Lifting straight into the clouds using two mini rotary blades, it could
act like a helicopter, and the bird’s-eye view of the compound was incredible. Popular Mechanics had boasted of such fantasy vehicles for years, but nothing came close to this gorgeous machine. The CarP was extraordinary. How the world would change if such a vehicle were in use! It could be driven like a car, lift straight up in the air, or even glide like a plane. The radar system updated constantly, alerting the pilot and copilot to air traffic, birds, and other flying creatures in the vicinity. It also monitored weather conditions and their effect on its many functions.

  “Can I fly?” Bennett was eager to test the vehicle.

  She glanced sideways at him. “If you can answer these questions, then…yes.”

  “Shoot,” he said eagerly.

  “At what angle and altitude will the CarP stall, and how do you recover from it? Can the rotary blades be used in plane/glider mode? That’s a yes or no, just to give you a hint. And what would you do if we suddenly lost all our fuel? I need to hear two options for this question.” She raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Answer in any order you’d like.”

  Studying the controls, he answered slowly and carefully. “Given that I haven’t read the manual and am answering somewhat blindly, I’ll give these questions my best shot. In terms of the fuel, I see an option for a parachute. I noticed it has a safety light and a set of stages to ensure the rotary blades are off or disengaged before a parachute launches, so that would be one choice, and the other option would be to use the automatic descent function. I doubt there’s any steering, so my guess is that we would need to be over a fairly flat area to engage it.”

  “Impressive,” said Kimberly. “Next?”

  “From the positioning of the blades at the end of the wings, my guess is that they could be used to propel forward, but the significant drag wouldn’t get us anywhere quickly, and if the wind hits the vehicle in a downdraft, we’d be pretty screwed. It’d stall and we’d drop quickly.” He leaned forward and studied a few gauges. “But I think if we modified a few things, we could make the plane mode more effective. With the engines off, especially if it could be tucked farther away or inside itself, the glider mode would be very effective for silent descents.”