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“I seriously doubt that.”

She grinned. There was the sarcastic sister she knew and loved.

“If you’re calling to check on me, you can stop worrying,” Lucia said, sitting up and reaching for the water.

“You flew across the country to meet a stranger,” her sister shot back. “Someone needs to worry about you. And if you refuse to do it, I will. What happens if this guy isn’t as great as he appears?”

“Natalie, I’m in control.” Holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder, she slid one arm into the robe. “That’s your secret to life, right? Controlling everything?”

The bitter words felt out of place in the serene treatment room. Lucia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Natalie loved her. But they looked at the world through different eyes.

Natalie had struggled with handing over control to their foster families, rebelling against the idea that strangers should have a say in her life. But Lucia had hoped to find acceptance. And instead had been marked worthless.

“I’m in control,” Lucia insisted. Of finding a way to feel wanted for one weekend.

“How do you know you can control a man you just met?” Natalie demanded. “And he’s a SEAL. You can’t manage guys like him. Believe me, I see them every day. In fact, I just kicked a pair of drunken SEALs out of my bar.”

Lucia laughed. “I think I found a way.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” she said, setting aside the mental picture of Cade’s wrists bound above his head. The restraint had only offered the illusion of control over him. His desire to be a part of her dreams for this weekend had paved the way for trust. Every touch, every kiss, every naughty word that crossed his lips, every orgasm proved that the wanting ran both ways. If he’d just wanted sex, he would have walked away already. He wanted her.

Sure, she dreamed of a guy who’d treat her that way for longer than a weekend. But Cade had been clear he wasn’t that kind of guy. That she’d be disappointed even if he tried to be. She just hoped she wouldn’t be too heartbroken when it came time to tell him good-bye.

“Natalie, I’ve been bold and daring for a long time on a canvas,” she said, pulling the robe on the rest of the way and securing the belt. “But here, with Cade, I’m brave without needing to rely on my paintbrush. And I love feeling like I don’t have to hide.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Natalie said. “Ever.”

“I’m a big girl. This is just a fling. I told him that from the start.”

A knock sounded at the door. “Just checking to see if you fell asleep,” Karen called through the door. “It happens sometimes.”

“I’ll be right out,” Lucia promised the masseuse. Dropping her voice low, she added, “Natalie, I need to go. But I promise, I’ll text you in the morning.”

A dog barked in the background. And Lucia would’ve sworn she heard her sister mutter, “I’m going to kill him,” just before the line cut out.

She slipped her phone into one of the robe’s front pockets, and then she headed for the door. She’d meant what she said to Natalie. This was her chance to be bold. And the next stop was the salon.


“Close your eyes.”

Cade heard Lucia’s voice through the hotel room door. His hands froze on the zipper of his new dress pants. He’d left the rental tux with the concierge after he’d moved his duffel into Lucia’s suite that morning. And his dad was right—he needed a step up from jeans or board shorts for tonight.

So after six months deployed to a war-torn country, he’d spent the afternoon shopping with his dad while his date for the evening visited the spa. When he’d walked back into normal, everyday life, it felt like the twilight zone.

“Are they closed?” The sound of a key card unlocking the door followed her words.

“Yes.” He was standing by the bed, his pants still undone, his new shirt hanging in the closet, and a present for his date on the desk. His hands moved to his sides, and his eyelids drifted shut.

“Don’t peek,” she warned as the door slammed shut behind her. “Okay, now you can look.”

He opened his eyes and turned around. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her big, loose curls drew his gaze down to her chest.

“Anna, your friend at the salon, called it the Sofia Vergara special. Have you heard of her?”

“Yes.” He’d watched the actress’s popular sitcom with Natalie. And Sofia Vergara’s hair was only one of her many attributes he’d admired. But the sitcom beauty came in a distant second to L

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