Page 8 of Under His Command

Chapter 3

After her hasty goodbye, Cassie tucked her phone into her small shoulder bag and checked to see she had her paperwork and photo ID. She had to show it at the guard gate already and felt sure she’d be flashing it repeatedly until she got official identification in the form of a badge, or whatever they used here. After double-checking everything, she dropped her keys in her purse.

A warm, salty breeze assailed her as she opened the door and stepped out. It blew wisps of hair from her ponytail across her cheek. Silently cursing the baby-fine flyaways that never stayed in place, she brushed them back and took a deep breath before shutting her door. Then, masking her nervousness with a determined stride, she set off for the concrete stairs leading up to run-of-the-mill glass double doors that could have been at the entrance to any civilian building anywhere.

“Knock ’em dead,” she whispered, using Jules’ words as a rallying call. “So what if Gary can’t be here? You helped him design this program and know it almost as well as he does.”

A nagging doubt in the back of her mind made her wonder if “almost as well” was good enough for the Navy.

The butterflies increased their frenetic flapping in the pit of her stomach as she put one dark-blue pump on the first step. From the corner of her eye, she saw movement. A flash of white, moving up the ramp off to the side, but she paid it no mind, concentrating on not tripping in her new three-inch heels.

She counted six steps up then crossed the narrow landing and reached for the door.

Rather than the metal handle she expected, she encountered warm flesh. Cassie blinked at the large, tanned hand wrapped around the silver bar as if she’d never seen one before. Following it up to a strong-looking masculine wrist and a muscular forearm, also browned from the sun, she noticed a smattering of blond hair and a few of those rope-like veins men seemed to have. She got to a short, white, crisply pressed sleeve surrounding bulging biceps. The way they flexed, testing the limits of the stitching, fascinated her.

A flash of gold drew her gaze to a broad shoulder adorned with three and a half stripes and a star. It meant nothing to her in her ignorance other than she was in the presence of an officer. Her eyes shifted upward until she encountered her reflection in a pair of black Oakleys. They sat perched on the bridge of a straight nose, over full lips tilted up in a smile. Straight white teeth flashed an instant before adeep voice rumbled, “Allow me, miss.”

Cassie blinked again. Even behind dark sunglasses, his eyes hidden, the man was a heart-stopper. Her mouth went dry as she gawked up at him like a fool, but she couldn’t help it. What woman wasn’t a sucker for a handsome man in uniform?

But this was not good.

She was on a base filled with thousands of hot sailors, hadn’t been there for five minutes, and the first one she came face-to-face with raised her body heat, made her girl parts quiver, and effectively dropped her IQ forty points. Worse, she stood there tongue-tied like a besotted fool.

No, this did not bode well for her—at all!

“Miss?”

“What?” she asked stupidly then realized he wanted to open the door, but she was holding his hand. She snatched it back, letting it fall to her side. “Of course, please do.”

His grin broadened. “I’d be happy to, but the door opens outward, and I’ll need you to move back a step for me to do that.”

Heat flooded her cheeks like a flash fire. “Yes, I’m...” Forcing herself to move, she also willed herself to stop acting like an idiot. “Of course,” she repeated, proving willing it hadn’t worked.

He hauled one of the two glass doors open and waited for her to enter first. A wave of cool air wafted over her as she stepped inside. Taking a calming breath, she removed her dark glasses and turned to thank him.

“Cassie?”

With his hat tucked under his arm and his glasses off, she recognized Flynn from the beach. But seeing him in the light of day, she could appreciate him so much more. First, his eyes, the color was extraordinary, a dark steel gray with flecks of deep cobalt. And they wereframed by long silky black lashes that any woman would die for. His hair was dark blond, cut short, but long enough on top to have a slight wave to its thickness. It looked soft, and she had an overwhelming desire to sample the texture as her fingers sank into it when he kissed her. Better yet, while holding his head to her breast as he drew hard on a nipple. Or with it wedged between her thighs as his mouth brought her to new heights of pleasure.

“What are you doing here?”

The surprise in his deep voice and his question snapped her out of her wayward thoughts, which had taken a decidedly improper turn.

She took in the stripes on his shoulders, the decorations on his chest, and the silver oak leaf on his collar. It still didn’t register. Why didn’t she study some before coming here? She didn’t even know the basics of rank.

“You’re an officer?” she asked lamely.

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