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ONE
Lena stepped out of the sleek black car that had been sent to fetch her. Carefully, she brought her spiked heel to the pavement. Walking in the heels was easy—maneuvering in the mermaid-style black sequined gown, especially when she lived in Kevlar vests and military-issue cargo pants, was a bit trickier.
Luckily, she made it out of the car without tearing the dress’s slit. It already rode high on her thigh and if she popped even a few threads, she’d be showingfartoo much to the people attending the military gala.
As the only woman on SEAL Team Blackout, she already struggled to gain the respect she deserved. She had to be better than any man she served with. She had to shoot better, think faster and have sharper senses. That meant she had to blend in with men, and she sure couldn’t do that in a sequined ballgown.
What made her step out of her comfort zone for this event? Well, she wasn’t about to wear a tux. Besides, she was tired of combat boots, and the stilettos made her feel tall, sexy and powerful. Of course, buying the heels meant she’d needed a rocking dress to go with them.
So here she was, at the door leading into a ballroom full of Navy brass and more than a few battle-hardened brothers-in-arms. Of course her nerves were snapping at what they’d say about her look tonight.
Drawing a deep breath, she steeled herself for her big entrance and walked inside.
At first, no one noticed her, and that was a good thing. As she got her bearings of the room—gauging its mood, energy, atmosphere rather than tension, danger and threats—she took precious seconds to prepare herself.
Darting a glance around, she prayed acertainman would not be attending tonight.
His team could always be on an op.
God, she hoped that was the case.
She drifted toward the group of men sporting tuxes and service dress blues. When a server passed by Lena, she swiped a flute of champagne off the tray.
The server’s gaze landed on her…then kept tumbling down her body.
Warmth fizzed through her at the appreciation glowing in his eyes. It was the best compliment on her appearance she could hope for, especially when she didn’t want to hear a word about how she was dressed from her teammates.
One man wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut if he saw her, though.
Please let him be crawling on his belly through thick mud while rain pelts him in the face.
A smile spread over her lips at the thought that cheered her far too much. But Slade Overstreet on Blackout Charlie team deserved it.
A low whistle sounded from her left, and Lena turned, mind shifting from—
Her stare hit the most annoying man on the face of the earth.
“Goddammit,” she muttered.
Why did Slade have to attend tonight’s gala? Worse, why did he have to lookso damn good?
In a pristine tux, a crisp white shirt and a black silk bowtie, he was gorgeous. Add in the fact that his body, carved and honed from years and years of active duty, filled out that tux in the best possible way, and the bodice of her dress started to feel a little snug.
His slate-blue eyes ticked from her elegant updo, swept over her throat…and down…every…single…inch of her dress.
His stare lingered on her heels for what felt like an endless heartbeat.
She snapped her fingers in front of his face to jerk him back from whatever sordid fantasy he was having about her.
And no, she wasn’t just being an attention whore. When it came to Slade Overstreet, Lenaknewthe man was thinkingalldirty thoughts about her.
His gaze flipped from her toes back to her eyes. The twitch of his hard lips—and that tempting bracket carved into his tan cheek, damn his wicked hide—tugged on her insides.
Slowly, he drifted around her in a circle. Each step he took, she felt his gravity pulling her.
Oh, why did he have to be here tonight? And why did he have to affect her so damn much? They were no good together.
Then again…they weresogood together.
