Fevered Nights. Jillian Burns
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her approach, and there was a sense of carefully controlled power in his stance. She guessed the military training must be ingrained in him. He was older than she was. With the crinkles around his eyes, she’d say he was in his early to midthirties.
He nodded toward the dining room. “Would you like to eat here or...?”
“Are you a member?”
“Me? No, I live in Virginia.” He smiled. “But I know a guy who is.”
She paused. Surprisingly, Ragi had readily approved of Piper’s impromptu date, suggesting that she bring the lieutenant to the gala. It seemed he was a decorated SEAL whose father was a US senator. Being seen on his arm would be worth more than a dozen pictures with the Miami mayor. So her job tonight was to get her name linked with a military hero’s.
But to do that, she’d have to mix and mingle and she’d have to use this guy for a photo op. Suddenly Piper found herself longing—just once—to have a normal dinner with a normal guy away from all the craziness of the paparazzi.
Normal. She didn’t even know what that meant.
Panic flared momentarily as she realized she’d never been on a regular date. How messed up was that?
What would they talk about? What did one do on a normal date?
She glanced at the white linen that covered the tables, topped with gleaming silverware, flickering candles and fresh flowers. The bank of windows looked out over the sparkling ocean. Soft music played in the background. Now was as good a time as any to find out about a regular date. Ragi would be upset if she skipped the gala. But hadn’t she’d earned a night of harmless fun?
She met his gaze. “Here sounds nice.”
He offered his bent arm and she slipped her hand around his elbow as he led her to a table by the window. She could feel the hard muscle beneath her fingers, and she liked the way he held her chair as she sat and then scooted it in for her before taking his seat across from her. She wasn’t used to being treated so...respectfully.
A waiter handed them menus, and the lieutenant ordered a bottle of wine before she could tell him not to. One glass wouldn’t hurt, right? She lowered her menu to meet his gaze as the waiter left. She knew men liked to talk about themselves. No reason this one should be any different. “Do you do a lot of sailing, Lieutenant?”
“Neil.” He shrugged. “When I can. I like to sail down to the Keys.”
“Those are the islands south of here? Is that really where Jimmy Buffet lives?”
Smiling, he nodded. “Yep, and lots of other celebrities, too. But the best thing is the sunset. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a sunset in the Keys.”
“I’d love to see that.”
“Maybe I can take you while we’re both in town.”
Ah, so he did want to get her into bed. Why was she surprised?
He cleared his throat and she realized she’d waited too long to respond. She smiled. “And did you sail your boat down here from Virginia for the regatta?”
“No, a yacht company sponsored me, so I sailed one of their racers.”
“Oh.” She nodded and studied her menu. Where was that waiter with the wine?
“My family does own a yacht, but it’s moored in DC,” he offered.
She glanced up. “And that’s where you live?”
“In DC? No, but I’m not far. I standby at Little Creek, Virginia.”
“Standby?” She knew nothing about the American military. Or the British one, either, for that matter.
“When we’re not deployed or attending a special training school we’re waiting around to be deployed. We can be playing pool at this bar called Barney’s one minute and the next thing you know we’re on a plane headed for an op.”
“That sounds a lot like my life in a way. I never know where in the world my next assignment might be.”
He chuckled and started to scan his menu.
“What’s so funny?”
“Sometimes I never know where in the world I’m going to be, either.”
English wasn’t her first language, but she caught the play on words and smiled. “I believe your assignments are undoubtedly more dangerous, Lieutenant.”
He looked up from his menu. “Neil.”
She got caught in the warm copper color of his eyes. How could his stare feel so intense and yet convey such warmth? It made her want to squirm and at the same time lean closer. But she did neither. “Neil,” she acknowledged with a small smile.
The waiter returned, poured their wine—which Neil accepted without tasting—and took their orders. Piper reached for her glass. Without the menu as a barrier, she felt exposed. Strange. She didn’t often feel awkward around men. But then, the men with whom she usually kept company were acutely adept at playing the game. This man...wasn’t. And she realized she didn’t know what to do with that.
The silence had gone on too long. “What do you do—”
“My buddy says your—” They spoke at the same time.
He nodded at her. “You go.”
“What do you do in the navy?”
“Whatever they tell me to do.” His sheepish smile softened the sharp answer.
Piper blinked. “And how long have you been doing that?”
“Since I was twenty. Uh, fourteen years, now.” His eyes widened. “Wow, saying that out loud makes me sound really old.”
“And why did you join the navy?”
“Well, I sure didn’t want to be a jarhead.”
Piper frowned. “Pardon?”
He winced. “Sorry. It was a joke. Jarheads are marines. We have a bit of a rivalry with the marines. No, it was my uncle. After Korea, the military knew they needed a more unconventional type of soldier for counterinsurgency. My father’s older brother was one of the first SEALs. He died in Vietnam.”
She raised a skeptical brow. “And this was the reason you wanted to follow in his footsteps?”
Neil’s gaze drifted off. “I was alone a lot as a kid. One day I found a trunk in my grandparents’ attic with a bunch of old letters. On one of them was a picture of these guys in jungle camo, and a Purple Heart medal. There was also this gold pin of an eagle perched on an anchor, holding Neptune’s trident and a pistol in his claws. It’s the pin that navy SEALs get after they complete training.
“When I asked my grandfather about it he told me the things had belonged to my uncle Greg. Uncle Greg had written the letters to his parents from Vietnam. I practically memorized them. They taught me the only important things I needed to know in life.”
Piper was taken aback at his sincerity, and couldn’t have stopped herself from asking the next question if she’d tried. “What are the important things in life?”
His focus shot back to her and he tilted his head. “Honor,” he stated with conviction. “Duty.” He thrust his chin out. “And love.”
Piper blinked, feeling her eyes sting. If she’d ever believed in those things, she’d lost faith in them long ago. After all, she’d failed at all three. Avoiding his searching gaze, she reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. She cleared her throat. Somehow this didn’t feel like a normal date. “I guess knowing how to sail well comes in handy in the navy?”
He shrugged. “Knowing how to swim certainly helped. It was about the only thing that got me through BUD/S.”
“BUD/S?”