Page 60 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

"Look at you, baby. So sweet and innocent, crying over something that wasn't your fault. That you couldn't stop. That you can't stop." He ran his thumbs beneath her eyes, reeling the dampness that marred them as her breath hitched in her throat. "You're right. I've always wanted you. I've wanted you until the want has eaten me alive. Until no matter how many women I had, it wouldn't ease. Until I thought I'd die if I didn't touch you just once. Taste you just for a second."

"Then why?" Her lips trembled as she stared up at him, her eyes darkening with everything he knew she thought she felt for him.

"Because I needed to protect you from myself. Because I'm my father's son, just as he was his father's son, and on through the line. Mom was luckier than Dad's mother was. He didn't beat her, too. Raven was even luckier. Dad would have died and gone to hell before he hit her."

"Clint, you've let him steal your life," Morganna cried hoarsely. "Don't you know you aren't like your father? God, if you were, you would have beaten me and Raven years ago."

"You don't know that. And neither do I," he told her gently. "Accept what we have, Morganna, for now. That's all I can do. Don't ask for things I can't give you."

She pushed back from him, painful anger contorting her features as her gaze raked over him. "Your love? Something more than a hot little fuck whenever the urge hits you?" She laughed, the mockery twisting her face held no amusement, though, only the anger, the fury, he had felt so many years himself.

"Morganna, please-"

"You didn't even say anything." She slapped at his chest, pushing him back as she whirled away from him. A second later she was in his face again, angrier than ever. "You suffered. You never said anything when you could have, when you could have gotten help. Where the hell was your mother?"

He tried to turn away from Morganna. To keep her from seeing, from knowing. Damn her, she was killing him here.

"Oh my God. She knew," Morganna whispered, horrified, her hands reaching out for him. "She knew."

Her fingers trembled as they touched his face, his neck, then moved to his chest. She touched him as though afraid he would break, as though afraid she would hurt him anew.

"Morganna ... it's over." It didn't hurt him anymore; he refused to let it hurt now.

Her tears fell. "Oh God, how could she let him?"

Clint had to stop her. He couldn't let her cry like this. He wouldn't allow it. Not over him. Not for him. He had spent too many years protecting her to allow this to happen now.

Clint jerked her into his arms, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back to cover her lips with his own. She tasted of sweet passion and salty tears. Her lips parted beneath his, her hands pulling at his shirt, popping buttons, touching heated flesh.

"Don't cry, baby," he whispered against her lips. "It's all over, Morganna. See? I'm fine."

He shrugged his shirt off, allowing her hands to whisper over his torso, the soft pads of her fingers glancing his hard, flat nipples. God, she felt good. Like an angel touching him, all silken fire and sweet passion as she made him burn.

"You're not fine." She stared up at him, her eyes misty, cloudy with sadness. "And you never will be, until you let yourself love. Don't you see that?"

He couldn't afford to love her. For both their sakes, he had to protect her. No one had won; they had all lost. Clint had realized that years ago. That didn't mean she was going to keep the upper hand on him. And it sure as hell didn't mean she was allowed to cry for him. He had spent too many years keeping the tears out of her pretty gray eyes to allow them to fall now.

"Come here, baby." He lifted her into his arms, ignoring her little gasp as he strode quickly into the bedroom and to the large bed he had dreamed of seeing her in. He was going to have some set ground rules. He was going to have to get control of her before she sent him into cardiac arrest. "I'll show you just how 'fine' I really am."

Morganna stared up at Clint as he laid her carefully in the center of the big bed and proceeded to strip her of her clothes, leaving her clad only in the black fishnet stockings.

She knew what he was doing. Knew he was playing her need for him, his need for her, avoiding the truth at all costs. It just wasn't the time to tell him just how full of crap this whole deal was. He was running scared and she knew it. Not because of his parents, not because he was afraid he was like his father; Clint was running because sometimes being alone a hell of a lot easier than taking that final risk. "Damn, you're beautiful." He straightened from the bed, staring down at her, his midnight eyes glowing with hunger as he pulled his boots and socks from his feet. Her mouth watered as his long fingers moved to the clasp of his belt, working it free before loosening the waist and drawing the material down his legs. When he straightened, his cock stood out stiff and hard from his body, the wink of gold that pierced it flashing beneath the darkly flushed crest.

Morganna came to her knees then, casting him a hungry look from beneath her lashes as she crawled to him, licking her lips in anticipation. She wanted to taste him again, feel him throbbing between her lips, filling her mouth as she held his big body prisoner with a flick of her tongue.

"You wish." He caught her before she could touch him, flipping her to her back once again as he came over her.

"That's not fair," she panted, struggling against him as his muscular legs trapped hers between them, his hands catching her wrists and stretching them above her head.

She watched his face, saw the heat and hunger, and gloried in it. He was arrogant, totally dominant, and all hers, whether he liked it or not.

"This is my bed," he murmured, his lips quirking with an inherent dominant sexiness that had her nerve endings sizzling.

"So what?"

Her eyes widened at the feel of cool silk and

metal snapping around her wrists. She twisted, staring in surprise at the length of chain coming from the headboard and the padded cuffs now imprisoning her wrists.

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