Page 11 of Tempted by a SEAL

His SEAL team deployed all over the world, at Uncle Sam’s beck and call 24/7. Hunter had joined the Navy fresh out of high school and served his country for fifteen years. Watching the twin towers fall on 9/11 had cemented his career in the military. Same with many of the guys he served with.

At thirty-three, he’d given nearly half his life to the service. To tracking down low-life scum on all corners of the world—Drug lords. Terrorists. Arms dealers. Human traffickers.

He’d seen shit no one should ever have to. Slept in places he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. But he’d been damn proud to serve his country. To help the weak and innocent.

Guys like him weren’t made for a desk job anyway. He needed to be moving. Training. Fighting alongside his men.

If giving up his R&R this week served the greater good, then so be it.

He’d signed over his life to his country years ago.

Hunter did a double-take as he sank back onto his barstool a moment later, the beautiful redhead perched only a few feet away. Mason’s gaze was flicking back and forth between the men Hunter had just bugged and two young women in slim fitting skirts and button-down blouses that hugged their full breasts.

Hunter smirked and cocked his head, and Mason nodded, nonchalantly glancing over at the men they’d been tracking.

“Those two idiots didn’t even see you walk by,” Mason commented.

“Works to our advantage that way.”

“Let’s hope they’re feeling talkative.”

“Yep. Doubt they’ll announce where our missing woman is though.”

“So what? Now you followed me over to the bar?” the beautiful redhead asked in her smooth British accent, her green eyes flashing in irritation as she looked over at Hunter. She crossed her denim-clad legs, a leather backpack resting at her feet on the stool’s perch. “In case you didn’t catch on earlier, I’m not interested.”

Hunter raised his eyebrows, taking in her pink lips and slightly flushed cheeks. With her fair skin, even the slightest shade of pink showed up immediately. Enticingly.

Her silken red hair hung past her shoulders, just touching the swells of her gorgeous breasts. As she lifted a glass to her mouth, he tried not to smile as he watched her take a sip. This woman looked sexy no matter what she did.

And damn it all to hell, he had work to do.

“I was sitting here earlier,” he said coolly. “Maybe you were the one stalking my friend and me? Decided to come sit by him and wait for me to return?”

“Stalking? It rather looks like you chased me over here—all the way across the pub, I might add.”

“Mason Ryan,” Mason said, extending a hand. “We’d love for you to join us.”

The redhead looked momentarily startled at his interruption but extended her hand as well.

“Emma,” she said, without offering her last name. “And no thank you. I’m quite fine here on my own.”

Alarm bells began going off in Hunter’s head as she lifted her backpack up to her lap, her fingers clutching it tightly.

Emma.

Funny that she had the same name as the missing archeologist. But that was probably a common British name. And the missing woman was exactly that—missing. Not sitting in a pub in London glowering at him.

Looking sexier than any woman had a right to.

“Don’t worry about him,” Mason said easily, cocking his head toward Hunter. “He’s always in a bad mood.”

“I can imagine. Are you sure that you want to spend your evening in his company?”

Hunter smirked and surreptitiously adjusted his earpiece, listening in on the men’s conversation. Interestingly enough, Emma seemed annoyed that he hadn’t introduced himself yet, her searing gaze flickering his way. The pout on her lips was cute as hell though.

What was that expression? The lady doth protest too much?

At this rate, he and Mason were going to have to move if they wanted to concentrate and get their job done. He winked at Emma but glanced back over toward the men, keeping an eye on their movements.

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