In one instant, everything changed for me.
I remember holding out my arms as a kind nurse handed me my baby.Then a doctor I’d never met stood next to me.In a gentle voice, she broke the news about my wife.
That was when two absolute truths were born and took up the center of my world: I had failed Amy, but I would never,everfail Jasmine.
I remember looking into that tiny scrunched-up face and swearing that I would protect her forever.I would follow my gut when it came to her well-being.I would die for her.
And here I am, bringing a stranger into our home, getting her settled in the guest room right down the hall.
I have no reason to suspect that Emma is a physical threat to me or my daughter, but she’s a threat, nonetheless.
In my heart, I already know it.
CHAPTER 8
Finn
I bury my face deeper in the pillow.
Emma Clark is a threat to my peace of mind, the smooth-as-glass serenity of my psyche.And my dick, which seems to jump to attention in her presence.
I can’t stop thinking about her.And I’m not entirely sure why.
Yes, she’s gorgeous.That’s the first thing I noticed about her.I was stunned to see that pale, perfect face peek inside the event tent.Those dark, uncertain eyes.All that stick-straight long brunette hair.
And sure, why not acknowledge the rest of it?She was dressed in dusty old clothes and basically starving, but even that couldn’t hide the beauty of her small body.I saw it—the slim legs.The shapely ass under the shapeless jacket.
When I grabbed her by the shoulders to save her from hitting the ground, I felt thin-but-strong arms.I noticed the soft pout of her mouth.Perfect skin.Her extravagant eyelashes and classic cheekbones.
Emma’s a true beauty.
I made the mistake of shaking her hand.It was supposed to be a quick acknowledgement of our stupid one-week trial period.But it was more.I felt it.Awareness coursed through me.That jolt of need nailed my feet to the fucking hallway floor.
Emma’s in my house.
And now I’m helpless to stop my mind from spinning in all those places it has no business going.
I imagine what it would be like to gather her up in my arms and devour her with kisses.How pleasing her small frame would feel against me, underneath me.How sweet she’d taste if I laid her on her back, spread her legs, and devoured her until she came all over my lips.
I punch my pillow again.
This is ridiculous.This can’t happen, and there’s no point in fantasizing about it.Emma Clark has to go.She can’t stay here.
She’s pure torture.
I’ve not felt this kind of helplessness in the presence of a woman since my Amy.It’s a travesty to even allow these words a place in my thoughts, but the way I’m reacting to Emma reminds me of my first encounters with Amy.
Amy made me drop everything and pay attention, not because she was demanding or the center of attention, but because she wasn’t.Amy captured me in a trap formed of sweetness and shy laughter and affection.I was powerless in Amy’s presence, and damn happy about it.
I’ve had many lonely years to think this through, and I think what drew me to Amy was how open and honest her heart was.There was no subterfuge or complexity.And my life working in Joint Intelligence Ops was nothing but that shit.Layers and layers of deception.Nothing was ever as it seemed.
Amy balanced me out, and I loved her for it.
And Emma… I don’t even know her.I don’t know the first thing about her story or why I would evenwantto know it.But there’s something so incredibly special about her.I’ve already connected with it, even if it’s the absolute last thing I’m looking to do.
That’s the threat.She threatens the wall I’ve built around myself, bricks made of grief and pain.And if I’m totally honest—fear.
I’m a SEAL.I don’t fear death and I don’t fear danger and I don’t fear the most extreme trials that a man can face.But I do fear losing those I love.
