SEAL's Desire (Alpha SEALs Coronado #1) - Makenna Jameison Page 0,33

at the canopy of trees above them. Her clothing stuck to her like a second skin, and she awkwardly pulled her long-sleeved top off, tying it around her waist in the heat. Blake had all his gear on, not to mention his weapon and rucksack.

He didn’t seem to even notice the heat.

Blake glanced back, realizing he was getting a little ahead of her, and frowned as he watched her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, slowing to a stop and looking around. She had a weird sense of déjà vu. Her guide had slowed and looked around, too. Right before armed men jumped out and shot him.

Blake began walking toward her, narrowing his gaze.

“What’s happening?” she asked, panic beginning to rise within her.

“You’re got bruises all over your arm,” he said, his voice tight.

Glancing at her upper arm, she realized he was right. With the way her wrist was hurting, she hadn’t even given it much thought. And she hadn’t been able to take off her shirt at the camp where she was held—not with her wrists tied. Shoot, she’d barely gotten it off right now over her bandage and broken wrist.

His hand rose to her arm, and she winced slightly, even though he hadn’t touched her. “They hurt you,” he said, his fingers lightly running over her skin.

Shivers raced down her spine at his gentle touch.

Would Blake be that careful with a woman…always? When he made love, did he lightly caress the woman he was with that same way? It was hard to imagine he acted this way around other people he rescued. He’d taken her hand earlier and held her last night as she cried.

It was silly to think she meant anything to him though. They didn’t know each other—not really. She wasn’t sure what to make of his behavior though. And she didn’t want to admit to herself that she liked it—not when they’d be parting ways in mere hours.

“When did they do this?” he asked in a low voice.

He dropped his hand from her skin but stood oh so close.

“When they first grabbed me I guess. That’s really the least of my worries though. Remember the broken wrist?” she asked, awkwardly holding it up. She wasn’t sure why Blake was so concerned about a little bruising on her arm. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but goodness. She’d been tied up and nearly raped. This was nothing.

He shook his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t like that they hurt you.”

“Well let’s hurry then,” she urged him. “I don’t want them to find us out here.”

His face grew hard. “They won’t fucking touch you, Clarissa. I promise you that. Come on,” he said, moving one hand to the small of her back to guide her forward. It felt like an almost intimate gesture—Blake’s hand at her back. His large body towering above hers.

He was controlling her space the way he commanded a mission—leading her where he wanted. Ensuring her safety.

He smelled faintly of sweat as he walked at her side, but it was masculine and earthy, not overwhelming. What she wouldn’t give for a long, hot shower right now. She was grungy and sweaty and just wanted to wash the past few days off of her.

To take a nap for hours and hours safe at home in her own bed.

“Watch your step,” Blake said, helping her over a rotted-out log.

It was sweet the way he was helping her—unnecessary maybe, but sweet. Maybe he wasn’t used to hiking with women. His SEAL team certainly was all men. And he’d flat out said the women he dated didn’t even like to get their hair messed up.

She didn’t know what to make of his attentiveness though.

A few raindrops began to fall, and Blake grumbled behind her as she looked skyward. “Hopefully this blows over. The storm won’t help matters.”

“I thought satellites were too high up in the sky to be affected by the weather,” she said.

“That’s true for the most part. But since I’m already having trouble establishing a connection out here, I was hoping for clear weather conditions.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” she agreed. Raindrops continued to fall, and she swiped them from her chest. She should probably put her shirt back on since she was wearing a camisole, but then she’d have no dry clothes. “Can I put this in your backpack to keep it dry?” she asked, removing the shirt from her waist.

“Yeah, good idea,” he agreed, taking it from her. “Why don’t you put this over your wrist.” He