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  Hot SEAL, Black Coffee

  SEALs in Paradise

  Cynthia D'Alba

  Praise for Cynthia D'Alba

  An emotional, complex and beautiful story of love and life and how it can all change in a heartbeat.

  —DiDi, Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews on Texas Lullaby

  Highly recommend to all fans of hot cowboys, firefighters, and romance.

  —Emily, Goodreads on Saddles and Soot

  This author does an amazing job of keeping readers on their toes while maintaining a natural flow to the story.

  —RT Book Reviews on Texas Hustle

  Cynthia D’Alba’s Texas Fandango from Samhain lets readers enjoy the sensual fun in the sun […] This latest offering gives readers a sexy escape and a reason to seek out D’Alba’s earlier titles.

  —Library Journal Reviews on Texas Fandango

  […] inclusions that stand out for all the right reasons is Cynthia D’Alba’s clever Backstage Pass

  —Publisher’s Weekly on Backstage Pass in Cowboy Heat

  Texas Two Step kept me on an emotional roller coaster […] an emotionally charged romance, with well-developed characters and an engaging secondary cast. A quarter of the way into the book I added Ms. D’Alba to my auto-buys.

  —5 Stars and Recommended Read, Guilty Pleasure Book Reviews on Texas Two Step

  [..]Loved this book…characters came alive. They had depth, interest and completeness. But more than the romance and sex which were great, there are connections with family and friends which makes this story so much more than a story about two people.

  —Night Owl Romance 5 STARS! A TOP PICK on Texas Bossa Nova

  Wow, what an amazing romance novel. Texas Lullaby is an impassioned, well-written book with a genuine love story that took hold of my heart and soul from the very beginning.

  —LJT, Amazon Reviews, on Texas Lullaby

  Texas Lullaby is a refreshing departure from the traditional romance plot in that it features an already committed couple.

  —Tangled Hearts Book Reviews on Texas Lullaby

  […]sexy, contemporary western has it all. Scorching sex, a loving family and suspenseful danger. Oh, yeah!

  —Bookaholics Romance Book Club on Texas Hustle

  Contents

  Also by Cynthia D'Alba

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  About the Author

  Also by Cynthia D'Alba

  Whispering Springs, Texas

  Texas Two Step: The Prequel (Free)

  Texas Two Step

  Texas Tango

  Texas Fandango

  Texas Twist

  Texas Bossa Nova

  Texas Hustle

  Texas Lullaby

  Saddles and Soot

  Texas Daze

  Diamond Lakes, Texas

  Texas Justice

  Hot SEAL, Cold Beer

  Brotherhood Protectors

  (Part of Elle James Brotherhood Series)

  Texas Ranger Rescue

  Texas Marine Mayhem

  Hot SEAL, Black Coffee

  By Cynthia D’Alba

  * * *

  Copyright © 2018 Cynthia D’Alba and Riante, Inc.

  * * *

  Print ISBN: 978-1-946899-16-3

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-946899-15-6

  * * *

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author—except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web. For additional information or to obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author via email at [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Cover Artist: Elle James

  Editor: Delilah Devlin

  Dedication

  To Melissa Kinnaird Wise.

  Lifelong friend. College roommate. Expert Dallas Consultant. Thank you for the ten million text message questions and phone calls.

  Any and all Dallas mistakes are mine, or total fiction that came from my brain.

  Chapter One

  At two-thirty Monday afternoon, Dr. Risa McCool’s world shifted on its axis. He was back. She wasn’t ready. But then, would she ever be ready?

  Four hours passed before she was able to disengage from work and go home. As she pulled under the portico of her high-rise building and the condo valet hurried out to park her eight-year-old sedan, her stomach roiled at the realization that Trevor Mason—high school and college boyfriend and almost fiancé—would be waiting for her in her condo, or at least should be. She pressed a shaking hand to her abdomen and inhaled a deep, calming breath. It didn’t work. There was still a slight quiver to her hands as she grabbed her purse and briefcase from the passenger seat.

  She paused to look in the mirror. A tired brunette looked back at her. Dark circles under her eyes. Limp hair pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head. Pale lips. Paler cheeks. Not one of her better looks.

  Would he be the same? Tall with sun-kissed hair and mesmerizing azure-blue eyes?

  Tall, sure. That was a given.

  Eye color would have to be the same, but his sun-bleached hair? His muscular physique? In high school and college, he’d played on the offense for their high school and college football teams, but she had never really understood what he did. Sometimes he ran and sometimes he hit other guys. What she remembered were strong arms and a wide chest. Would those be the same?

  Almost fifteen years had passed since she’d last seen him. He hadn’t come back for their tenth nor their fifteenth high school reunions. The explanation for his absences involved SEAL missions to who knew where. Risa had wondered if she’d ever see him again, whether he’d make it through all his deployments and secret ops.

  Well, he had and now she had to work with him.

  She took a deep breath and slid from the car.

  “Good Evening, Dr. McCool,” the valet said.

  “Evening, John. Do you know if my guest arrived?”

  “Yes, ma’am. About four hours ago.”

  “Do you know if the groceries were delivered?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Cleaning service has also been in.”

  “Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

  “You, too.”

  She acknowledged the guard on duty at the desk with a nod and continued to the private residents-only elevator that opened to a back-door entrance to her condo. After putting her key in the slot, she pressed the button for the forty-first floor and then leaned against the wall for the ride.

  Her anxiety at seeing Trevor climbed as the elevator dinged past each floor. It was possible, even probable, that she had made a mistake following her mother’s advice to employ his company. She was required to have a bodyguard for every public event since the announcement of the pink Breast Cancer Diamond. Her insurance company insisted on it. The jewelry designer demanded it. And worse, her mother was adamant on a guard. How did one say no to her mother?

  Plus, as head of the Dallas Area Breast Cancer Research Center, she’d been tasked with wearing that gaudy necklace with a pink diamond big enough to choke a horse for the annual fundraising gala. The damn thing was worth close to fifteen or twenty million and was heavy as hell. Who’d want it?

  The elevator dinged one last time and the doors s
lid open. She stepped into a small vestibule and let herself into her place expecting to see Trevor.

  Only, she didn’t.

  Instead there was music—jazz to be specific. She followed the sounds of Stan Getz to her balcony, her heart in her throat.

  A man sat in a recliner facing the night lights of Dallas, a highball in one hand, a cigar in the other.

  “I’m glad to see you stock the good bourbon,” he said, lifting the glass, but not turning to face her. “And my brand, too. Should I be impressed?”

  Her jaw clenched. Their fights had always been about money—what she had and what he didn’t.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Are you impressed?”

  He took a drag off the cigar and chased the smoke down his throat with a gulp of hundred-dollar bourbon. “Naw. You can afford it.”

  “Are you going to look at me or will my first conversation with you in fifteen years be with the back of your head?”

  After stabbing out the cigar, he finished his drink, sat it on the tile floor, and rose. Lord, he was still as towering and overwhelming as she remembered him. At five-feet-ten-inches, Risa was tall, but Trevor’s height made her feel positively petite. As he turned, every muscle in her body tensed as she stood unsure whether she was preparing to fight him, flee from him or fuck him.

  “Hello, Risa.”

  His voice was deep and thick and smoky and she almost climaxed just hearing her name on his lips.

  “Trevor. You look good.” Talk about an understatement…like calling a hurricane a little wind and rain.

  “Wish I could say the same.” He stepped toward her. “You look…” He tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Still beautiful. Still sexy as hell, but, damn, you look tired.”

  She sighed. “I’m exhausted. Sorry I wasn’t here to meet you. One of my cases had a complication that kept me at the hospital until now.”

  He nodded. “Your office let me know.” He gestured around at her condo. “Penthouse. Impressive. Cutting on folks must pay well.”

  She tensed and her eyes narrowed. Sure, her specialty paid well. A reward for years of grueling hard work and study. But the demands of the classroom had paled in comparison to the impossible hours of her surgery residency and breast cancer fellowship. There had been weeks when she’d barely seen her tiny apartment

  When Risa had finished her fellowship and taken a position with Dallas Area Breast Cancer Research Center, she’s spent the first few months driving between Diamond Lakes and Dallas. The drive, while not arduous, was long and, after too many twelve-hour days, something she began to loathe. As a birthday surprise, her parents bought the penthouse floor for Risa and her twin, Wendy, in a new high-rise being constructed in downtown Dallas. Each residence took up half the floor, so she and Wendy were they only occupants.

  For Risa, the building was a little over the top. Fancy. Shiny. Exclusive.

  At first, she’d been uncomfortable with all the amenities, like the twenty-four hour concierge desk, valet parking and exclusive residents-only private elevators. However, since she become head of the center, there were many nights when she arrived home after fourteen-hour days exhausted to her core. After the first few times when she’d handed over her car to be valet parked, then dragged herself to her condo to find that her groceries had been purchased and put away, she’d decided maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Sure, the monthly fees were steep, but she owned the condo outright, so no monthly note. Besides, she could afford it.

  For Wendy, their parents couldn’t have hit a longer homerun. Fancy, shiny and exclusive could be adjectives used to describe Risa’s sister. She’d settled into the new place like a prized bull in a pasture with a harem of lusty cows.

  So, maybe she could let his comment about her home pass, but she resented Trevor’s flip remark about her life’s work.

  “Yeah, cuttin’ on folks is just dandy,” she replied with a taut jaw.

  Asshole. Why had she thought this was a good idea?

  He picked up his glass and gestured. “I’m pouring me another. You want one?”

  “I thought you were more of a black coffee drinker.”

  “When I’m on the job, but off the clock, this is my drink of choice. Joining me?”

  “Fine. Pour me a glass of wine. I think I have an open bottle in the refrigerator.”

  She feared she needed an entire bottle of wine to get through tonight. Her stomach had fallen to her knees the second she’d stared into his deep blue eyes. Eyes that had haunted her dreams for years. But tonight, the sparkle she’d seen so many times was gone. There was nothing in his gaze that told her anything about how he felt about being here, about seeing her again.

  She followed him back to her wet bar, swearing to herself that she wouldn’t stare at his ass, except of course, she ogled his tight butt in a pair of jeans that cupped everything—and she meant everything—just right.

  He made himself at home behind her bar, splashing the expensive bourbon into the glass as though it was tap water. Reaching into the bar’s built-in wine cooler, he pulled out an open bottle of white wine.

  “This one?”

  She nodded.

  He poured and handed her a glass.

  “Made yourself at home, I see,” she drawled.

  He turned around, leaned on the mahogany bar, and crossed his ankles. “Got a look at the layout.” He smiled. “Your panty drawer was very well organized.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’ve checked out the building before I came. I met with the building’s head of security when I got here.” He shrugged. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

  She gave a derisive snort. “I thought you were a bodyguard. Have I been misinformed?”

  “Nope. That’s what I do, but why am I here?” He pointed around the room with the highball glass. “In your condo? Why not put me in a hotel like all the others who are working this event? This is Fort Knox disguised as a condo building.”

  She narrowed her eyes, then gave him a stiff smile. “Tomorrow, I’m getting my grandmother’s jewels from the vault and they’ll be here until I can return them on Monday after the gala. Between now and the event, I have six event-related appearances. At first the plan was that I would be wearing the Breast Cancer Diamond necklace at each one. However, the designer doesn’t want to reveal the necklace until the night of the gala. You know, build up the suspense, so I’ll be teasing the reporters by wearing some of my grandmother’s jewelry, which in itself is worth a couple of million or so. Since I don’t usually keep a few million in diamonds in my home, and frankly it makes me a little nervous to do so with the whole world knowing about them, I thought it would be wiser to have someone here instead of having my bodyguard sleeping a few miles away.”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “Makes sense.” He pulled out his cell phone and tapped on the screen.

  “I’ll want you to escort me to the vault and back tomorrow.”

  He looked up at her. “Do you know what time?”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Why? You have a date you have to work around?”

  “My team from EyeSpy has a meeting with the Dallas police and the hotel security to review the overall security plan for the event.”

  “Fine.” She pulled her cellphone from her pocket. “Can you put your phone number in here so I can reach you if I need to?”

  He entered his phone number without comment. His phone buzzed. “There. I have your cell number in my phone, along with your home and office numbers.”

  The idea that he had programmed her into his phone made her gooey inside, even as she told herself it only meant he was doing his job, not getting ready to ask her on a date.

  “What time is the security meeting? I’d like to put it on my calendar.”

  “Eight a.m. Why? You don’t need to be there.”

  “Since I’m this year’s gala chairwoman, I should be on top of all things related to the event.”

  He sighed. “Don’t you have to work or
something tomorrow?”

  “Nope. I’m off until Wednesday. I’m only working one day this week.” She smiled and took a long drink of wine, something she didn’t get to do very often.

  “You have a lot of long weekends then?” he said, his tone a tad snarky.

  Long weekends? She could barely remember the last time she’d had two days in a row off, much less four. But this event was her baby. The money raised would go a long way in funding more research for breast cancer diagnosis and treatment.

  “Oh yes,” she replied, putting as much sarcasm in her voice as she could manage. “I only, what did you call it? Cut folks? Right, so I only cut folks three days a week.” She rolled her eyes. “I guess you had many long, relaxing weekends while you were a SEAL.”

  “How did you know I was a SEAL?”

  She shrugged. “Grapevine.”

  He grunted. “Mom-vine is probably more accurate. And no, I didn’t get long weekends.”

  “Fill my glass, and let’s go to the sun room. I need to get off my feet.”

  He poured and then followed her to the spacious glass room that was bookended by two terraces, all of it overlooking the Dallas skyline. She dropped onto the couch and pulled off her shoes.

  “Feet hurt?” he asked as he sat across from her, a modern, glass coffee table separating them.

  “Feet, legs, back, shoulders. You name it, it aches,” she said with a roll of her shoulders and head. Her neck popped a couple of times. “Was on my feet all day. I did six surgeries. Five of them were textbook, but...” She shrugged. “There’s always going to be one case that doesn’t go right, no matter what.” She rested her head on the back of the sofa and shut her eyes. “Know what I mean?”