Page 31 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

This sucked. She didn't know Drage Masters, had nothing to go on except his reputation and the sparse details Joe had managed to scrounge up on him. It wasn't enough to instill trust.

"I gather there's not an option for no-ties sponsorship?" She lifted her brow in question.

"Sadly, no." His lips twitched. "And the time constraints are rather strict as well. I'll need to know before you leave the room so I can inform my security personnel of your status."

Oh great. Her eyes strayed to the monitors, hoping to catch a glimpse of Clint so she could glare at him. They widened as she saw him, but in apprehension rather than anger now. He was stalking toward the hall, his brows lowered in a frown, anger glittering in his eyes.

"Yes, I expected him to show up," Drage murmured.

"Asshole," she muttered as a heavy fist landed on the door.

"Your choice?" Drage asked her. "I'm afraid, dear, you are out of time."

"Can he rescind his request?" There had to be a way out of this.

"He can." Drage's lips twitched. "Though I would be surprised were he to do so. Clint rarely changes his mind."

"Yeah, that one's news." She flinched as the next knock came through, loud enough to bring a frown to Drage's dark features.

He leaned forward, pressing a button on a small control panel, then stared back at the door expectantly as it swung open slowly.

Morganna did shiver when Clint walked in. The aura of danger that swirled through the room was almost physical. His deep blue eyes were nearly black, his tall body tense, prepared. For a fight.

"Evenin', Clint," Drage drawled. "I assumed we had concluded our business earlier."

"Why is she still in here?" Ice dripped from his voice.

Drage leaned back in his chair as he turned his gaze to Morganna. "I was informing her of your request as well as her possible choices."

"There are no choices." Clint stepped into the room, his gaze slicing to Drage. "That was my request."

"Your request was her immediate barring from the clubs, which I decided required her the opportunity to counteroffer. We were discussing the details."

"The counteroffer being?"

Morganna held her breath at the calm, incredibly gentle tone of Clint's voice. The situation was getting ready to become explosive, and she knew it.

"Sponsorship, of course." Drage lifted his brow archly. "She was just making her decision. Weren't you, Morganna?"

She narrowed her eyes on Drage. Could she do it? Was what she wanted enough to allow another man to touch her, to hold her?

She looked over at Clint. Hard. Cold. She had waited for ten years for him, and the best he could do was throw her out of an operation she had worked her ass off for. He didn't want her enough to risk that piece of ice he called a heart. And all this after blowing her mind with an orgasm she still hadn't recovered from.

She clenched her teeth. She wasn't a virgin. Other men could arouse her. She'd had other lovers before; she could again.

"I'll need a trial period. Three nights," she bargained. "To be certain we'll suit."

She could feel her stomach tightening in dread at the

thought of another man touching her, even one as handsome and obviously sensual as Drage Masters. She steeled herself against it and thought of the women dying because of that drug. The pictures, the videos, the lives it was destroying.

He inclined his head in agreement. "A cautious lady. I can do that."

"Then I agree."

"Like hell."

Chapter 8

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