Off the Grid Read online

  Ah, hell. He shifted his gaze back to her face at the same time as she dropped her arms. The faint pink on her cheeks suggested the timing might not have been a coincidence, that she’d caught the direction of his stare.

  She stiffened, straightening her spine and lifting her chin to meet his gaze. It might have been more intimidating if she weren’t a good foot shorter than him.

  “No. I’m not going to do any of that. You owe me an explanation.”

  “I don’t owe you a damned thing.”

  There was a sharp silence. John didn’t understand it. He was never harsh. Never abrupt. He never said the first thing that popped in his head.

  Correction. Never except with Brittany.

  She looked at him, and he didn’t understand how a look could say so much. How a look could say everything.

  He’d known her, what . . . three weeks? Five years ago? And he knew her well enough to read her looks?

  Apparently so, because her next words confirmed that they’d both been thinking about what had happened in San Diego. He’d pushed her away without an explanation then, too.

  “You’re right,” she said. “You made that clear the last time I saw you, didn’t you? My mistake for thinking that you might feel bad about lying to me. That you might think I deserved an explanation after traveling halfway around the world to see my brother only to find out that he is dead and his former best friend was pretending to be him to stop me from finding out what happened to him. He’s gone, John.” Her eyes pinned him, pleading for understanding. “My brother is dead. I need to know why.”

  Those eyes left him nowhere to hide, and maybe for the first time in his life, that was what he felt like doing.

  He wasn’t going to let her do this to him. He shook off the guilt. He’d done it for her own good. “I was trying to protect you. I lied because I knew you would be like this. I knew you wouldn’t be able to listen to reason but would keep digging and digging until you had whatever answer you were looking for no matter who was hurt in the process. If anyone finds out I’m alive, I could be targeted. This is dangerous stuff, Brit. You need to steer clear.”

  She turned away. “You’re just trying to scare me to put me off.”

  He took her by the arm and hauled her around to look at him. He swore he could feel the flutter of her heart against his. He knew it wasn’t fear. Anger maybe? Awareness? Whatever the hell it was, it was magnetic, drawing him in. Taking him somewhere he didn’t want to go. He was about ten seconds away from putting his mouth on hers again. Maybe that would make her listen. If he thought he had a chance in hell, he just might try it.

  “I’m not,” he said tightly. “You don’t know what kind of hornet’s nest you are stirring up with this ‘Lost Platoon’ crap, Brit, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  For a moment he wondered if he was getting through to her. But then she shrugged out of his hold, dismissing him—and the warning. “Thanks for the concern, but it’s part of the job. I’ve been stung before.”

  “What about me?” Her eyes lifted to his. “If you don’t put this aside, I could end up dead.”

  “You’re a big boy, Johnny.” She coldly looked him up and down, but somehow it made him hot anyway. “I’m sure you’ll manage to land on your feet. You always do. Everything is always so easy for you.”

  She was right. “It pays to be a winner” had been the story of his life. Things came easy to him. School. Sports. Friends. Girls. Until he’d decided to become a SEAL. For the first time in his life he’d been tested. He’d had to work for something he wanted. Maybe that was why being a SEAL was so important to him. It was the constant challenge.

  But he didn’t like what she was insinuating. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re here, aren’t you?”

  With that one remark she managed to prick low beneath the surface, beneath layer upon layer of skin, to tap into the one harsh truth that he didn’t want to acknowledge. Didn’t want to think about. That he’d survived and his friends—and his best friend—had not.

  He held her stare, not giving any indication of the raw nerve she’d just struck. “Yeah, you aren’t the only one disappointed about that.”

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like that. Of course I’m glad that you aren’t dead, too.”

  He’d never seen her twisting her hands before, but she was obviously agitated. He knew the feeling. Everything about her made him agitated.

  She uttered a sound of frustration. “I’m not going to let you do this to me. I’m not going to let you confuse me again. You’re good at that. But I’m not twenty-two anymore and susceptible to a good-looking face and a killer set of abs. You aren’t going to make me feel bad for you and stop me from finding out what happened. If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out another way.”

  Good-looking face and killer set of abs? Was that what she’d reduced him to in her mind?

  That pissed him off just enough to make him want to return the favor. “Over your little crush, Brit?”

  Her cheeks flamed. He thought he heard a “bastard” under her breath before she gave him a tight smile. “Since the moment I left that beach house. But truth be told, it didn’t take long. There wasn’t much to get over.”

  She’d gotten even more provoking in her old age.

  He took a step toward her. As there wasn’t much space between them to start with, that basically brought him right up against her. “You sure?” He reached down lazily to stroke her warm cheek with his thumb, sliding it down over gently parted lips. “You seemed pretty into that kiss.”

  Her sharp intake of breath only served to stoke that fire a little hotter. But he’d miscalculated. Overestimating his control and underestimating her skill at retaliation.

  Hearing her quickening breath and sensing the arousal buzzing through her was playing havoc with his rationality.

  She leaned in to him, pressing her body fully against his. Letting him feel the soft crush of her breasts and the gentle friction of her hips against his.

  This time it was he who had the sharp intake of breath.

  “I wasn’t the only one into it. Or is this”—she nudged her hips against the hard column of his erection—“not for me?”

  The husky taunt . . . the subtle press . . . John felt a roar rush through his veins. He didn’t stand a goddamned chance of letting that go unanswered.

  It was for her, all right.

  With a groan that was half curse, half relief, he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

  * * *

  • • •

  Brittany didn’t tease, she didn’t seduce, she was no femme fatale, and she had never pressed herself against a man suggestively like that before in her life.

  Had she wanted this reaction? Had she wanted to see whether she had what it took to make a guy like him lose control? Get a taste of the good times he was so famous for?

  She didn’t know, but the moment his mouth touched hers, it was too late to do anything about it.

  She was lost. Consumed. Drowning in the sensations aroused by his lips and tongue. In the heat. In the feel of his arms around her. In the hard body pressed against hers.

  God, he could kiss. The long, purposeful strokes seemed to reach deep inside and sent shudders of desire racing through her.

  She wasn’t usually into facial hair, but the Viking thing was definitely working for her. It made her feel a little naughty. A little ravished and plundered with the gentle scrape against her skin as his mouth moved over hers.

  And moving it was. Devouring. Inhaling. As if he couldn’t get enough fast enough.

  She knew the feeling.

  The kiss in the bar had been restrained compared to this one. This one was pure carnal sensuality. Pure eroticism. Pure “I can’t wait to get your pants off and fuck you senseless.”

&nbs