Page 3 of Under His Command

“You’re right,” he admitted, surprising her. “I jumped to the conclusion you were a college kid who had too much of a good thing and ended up floundering around in the waves.” He gestured behind him to where the public beach ended and the long row of private properties stretching down the coast. “I live on the island, and we get a lot of that. Especially in late August, as a last hurrah as summer ends and before classes start up again.” He paused a moment, looking out over the water. “Just last month we had a girl go missing while out for a swim past sunset. There was a rip current. A SEAL team from the naval base had to be called in to help recover the body.”

“Oh my God! How awful.”

“Yeah, so it’s fresh in my mind.” He turned back to her. “My advice... You shouldn’t be wandering the beach alone, especially after drinking even one beer, and never where the waves can take you by surprise.”

She appreciated his owning up to his incorrect assumption and was about to tell him so when she saw his eyes dip down her front. When they lingered there, her gaze followed. At the sight of the T-shirt plastered to her body, her nipples hard and standing out through the sheerness of her bra, she let out a little shriek of alarm.

She pulled the fabric away from her wet skin, but it was a wasted effort. As soon as she let go, the snug-fitting shirt snapped back in place. She repeated the move with the same ineffective result. Left with no other option to preserve her dignity, Cassie crossed her arms over her chest.

Covered, but utterly mortified, she peeked up at him. When he didn’t comment, she was grateful for it, although she thought she saw his lips twitch the tiniest bit.

He didn’t give her time to come up with a response before he suggested more politely, “Allow me to see you back to your car. If you have a phone on you, it’s ruined after that soaking. I’ll use mine to call the cab and wait with you until it arrives. Miss...”

“My name is Cassie,” she replied. “I left my phone in the car. I can call a cab from there, so you don’t have to stay.”

“That seals it for me, I’m afraid. You’re by yourself after dark, without a way to call for help, slightly tipsy, and a lot bedraggled. So yes, Cassie, I do have to stay. I’m Flynn, a stranger, but a good guy, and I swear”—pausing, he laid his hand on his chest—“I’m not a serial killer.”

His lips kicked up in a smile, which she couldn’t keep from returning.

When he wasn’t judging, he could be charming, had an awesome name that suited him, and, while she didn’t let on, she also liked his firm, no-nonsense attitude. At another time and place, she’d have flirted with him, especially if he had a dominant bent. From their encounter, she suspected Flynn did. If he didn’t, what a waste.

She didn’t argue with his plan any further, only nodded, now that the misunderstanding was behind them. When a gust of wind blew hard, whipping her long ponytail and the loose tendrils of hair around her face into her eyes, she brushed it back, leaving one arm crossed over her chest. Her nipples tightened painfully, poking hard against her forearm, and it wasn’t only from being chilled.

Though she wanted to say something, to test the waters—bad pun not intended—she didn’t. Her dom radar was off these days. The spanking comment, though out of line, wasn’t completely off base considering his assumption. And she didn’t dare risk embarrassing herself further if she was wrong.

“You were running,” she observed softly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the breathless quality in her voice.

“Yes, but I won’t miss a few miles this evening. Roscoe, on the other hand, will be your friend for life if you save him from exercise. He might look like a dog, but trust me, he’s reallya fur-wearing couch potato. Though, as a gentleman, he would insist on escorting you and would ignore me to follow you up,if I didn’t. His calling is to see to all damsels in distress, especially if it means getting out of running. Isn’t that right, boy?”

On cue, the dog barked, coming to his feet, his tail whipping back and forth, so happy to be included, he looked like he might wiggle out of his fur.

Cassie laughed. Flynn joined her, the low rumble charming her further. And Roscoe, not to be outdone by his master, tilted his head to the side, tongue hanging out, and gave her a pleading look with his beautiful dark puppy-dog eyes.

“How could I say no to such gallantry? Lead on, sirs.” She could have been mistaken, but she thought she saw a spark of interest in her rescuer’s eyes. But again, he didn’t comment. He crooked his arm and offered it to her, however.

When they started walking again, Flynn adjusted his stride, so his long legs matched her pace, which was nice.

“I know at first look it may not seem like it,” she ventured, after walking at least a half mile in silence, “but I’m not a partier.”

He didn’t respond to that, either.

“I’m new in town. I came here for a walk, and to watch the sun go down. When they invited me to join them, I did, in celebration.”

“Of what?”

“I start a new job tomorrow.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I was feeling sorry for myself, being the new girl in town and not knowing a soul.”

“Now you know two souls, me, and Mr. Couch Potato.”

She angled her head up to him. Innate hotness aside, she was starting to like him.

Roscoe barked again, clearly insulted, and with his tail in the air, picked up speed and moved ahead of them.

“Oh, you’ve hurt his feelings.”

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