Page 23 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

A frown marred his brow. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that since the moment you caught me wearing makeup and dressing like a girl instead of a tomboy, you've resented me. You see me as a pretty, worthless party girl without a brain in her little head. Unfortunately, I'm not willing to play into your image of that forever. I've actually grown quite sick of it."

Morganna picked up her coffee, sipping at the hot brew as she watched his expression closely.

"That's not true."

"Of course it's true." She smiled gently, inhaling a ragged breath. "You think I'm just like your mother. Unable to settle down or care for her children while her husband is off fighting wars."

There. It was out in the open. Morganna steeled herself against the hard expression that came over his face, the ice in his eyes. God, she hated it when he looked at her like that.

"This has nothing to do with her."

"Of course it does. It always has." She shrugged, fighting back the tears, the pain. "Do you think I haven't realized what the problem was all along, Clint? You believe I'll screw around on you while you're gone, simply because I wear makeup and like to dance. Because she did. As far as you're concerned, I have no more honor than she did."

"You're reaching, Morganna." He shook his head.

"Am I?" Her smile was forced, as was the calm edge of her voice. "I don't know, Clint. The evidence is pretty overwhelming from where I sit. We were getting along fine when I was a little tomboy chasing after you. Once I started wearing makeup and having a life outside you, you hated me."

"I don't hate you." ,

"You can't keep your hands off me and you hate yourself as well as me for it."

Her heart was racing as his brows lowered ominously, his expression becoming darker. "Morganna. That has nothing to do with this operation-"

"Of course it does." She lifted her chin defiantly. She was not going to cry over him again. She had spent weeks crying a year ago when she made the mistake of going to his apartment to comfort him after his buddy's death. "It has everything to do with it. How can a party girl, one step above a tramp, possibly contribute anything worthwhile to such an important cause? I'm a hazard to the entire operation, aren't I, Clint? It doesn't matter that I've been training for this for years. That I fought for this assignment a

nd that it means something to me. All that matters to you is that you can't handle it."

"Because you're inexperienced and that will get you killed." His jaw clenched almost violently. "You're not cut out for this life."

She stared back at him silently for long moments. She didn't fight the pain he could cause her. It would rise and ebb, like the tide. What tore at her heart now would ease to no more than a dull ache in a few weeks.

"Taking me off this assignment isn't going to make a difference," she finally said. "When I return to the agency, the commander will find me something else. Perhaps not something that means as much to me, but something I believe in. What will you do then, Clint?"

He didn't answer her. Clint rose slowly from his chair instead, his expression blank, though his eyes churned with emotion as he watched her.

"Don't make the mistake of coming back to one of those clubs tonight," he announced, his voice hard.

She tossed the donut to the top of the box as she stiffened defiantly. "Don't make orders you can't enforce, Clint. It is a free country here, you know."

"Don't you underestimate me, Morganna." He towered over her, glowering down at her from his lofty height with arrogant confidence. "I will put a stop to this."

"Why?" Her fists clenched as anger enveloped her. "Why do you even care, Clint?"

"Because it's no more than I would expect from Reno if it were Raven acting so damned foolishly," he growled. "I won't let you risk your life, Morganna."

"And you don't? Has either Raven or I demanded that you leave the military and take a nice safe little job shuffling papers? Your double standards suck, Clint."

"Then they suck," he retorted, his voice harsh. "Dammit, Morganna, you're asking too much of me."

"And you're a liar," she raged back rashly. "This isn't about Reno, or friendship, or anything else. The fact of the matter is that you can't admit how much you care about me, so you're just going to jerk me out of something I've worked my ass off for. Your selfishness amazes me, Clint."

"Bullshit!"

"The hell it is." She was in his face and didn't even realize how she'd gotten there. Her finger jabbed into his chest as she stared up at him challengingly. "You won't work with me because you know if you did, you couldn't keep your hands off me or your stone-cold heart safe. That's your problem. Walk away like you always do. But no, you have to destroy my dreams while you're at it."

"My problem is spoiled little girls who think they're bulletproof," he snarled, catching her wrist and holding it in the manacle of his fingers. "My problem is your damned stubbornness. I can't even talk to you."

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