Page 77 of Hidden Attraction

And he was a SEAL.

But God, she’d remember every second of it.

And she knew, without a doubt, he would too.

SIXTEEN

Chase wasn’t one for dramatics, but now he understood why people kissed the ground when they touched down on American soil.

He also wanted to grab Alyssa and kiss the hell out of her. Throughout their long flight, they shared tender looks, gentle touches. But both of them kept a wall between them, as if now that the op was over, they couldn’t break the rules they’d already shattered in all ways.

Now they were back on Charlie base. The ladies in residence, Sophie and May, rushed Alyssa off to get cleaned up and rest, while he paced his private quarters, feeling more fucked up by the passing minute.

A heavy bootstep at the door made him look up. Denver stood there.

“You did it, didn’t you?”

“Did what?” Chase asked.

“You fell for the ambassador.”

He sliced his fingers through his hair. “Did you need something?”

Denver smirked. “Yeah. Con wants to see you.”

He let a breath trickle out of him and strode out of his room. Denver fell in step with him as they navigated the maze of hallways to reach Con’s office.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold, he stopped in his tracks, looking around. “Do I have the right room?”

Con turned from the window, his arms folded. “Yes. Sophie went on a decorating spree.”

The space had once been stark and cold, the floor-to-ceiling bookcases empty except for a volume or two Con had placed there. Now the shelves were stuffed with books arranged by color in a rainbow that arched from shelf to shelf all around the room.

Heavy curtains flanked the windows, and a masculine leather sofa took up one wall.

“Now that I can get behind.” He started toward the brown leather but stopped when he spotted a fluffy-looking pillow. “On second thought.”

Con grunted. “It makes her happy.”

At one time, Chase wouldn’t have understood such a statement. Now, he not only saw the reason behind Con wanting his woman to be happy, he could list things that would makeAlyssahappy.

Such as sharing morning coffee like a normal couple.

The weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders all this time slipped downward to his chest.

Con waved at a seat. As Chase took one, and Denver the other, Dante entered the room.

Chase clenched a fist on his thigh. “I see we’re debriefing.”

Con arched a brow. “Why wouldn’t we? We debrief after every op.”

“Because Dante was listening the whole damn time. Our every move was on record.”

Dante snorted. When Chase glanced over at him, the asshole had a fist pressed to his lips and his shoulders shook with laughter.

Chase leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees. “I want to start by saying that Alyssa’s not dirty. I’m confident of that even if there’s no actual proof.”

Con drifted to his desk chair and sat, eyeing Chase across the desk. “Actually, there is proof.”

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