Page 88 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

He stomped from the room before he heard more than a snicker. He didn't pause as he passed Morganna; he couldn't. If he did, he would end up throwing her over his shoulder again and hauling her straight to the bed. Damn. Could a man die of a hard-on?

THE MUSIC WAS PUMPING FROM Diva's as Clint pulled the BMW up to the back entrance. The door opened smoothly, revealing Jayne Smith, outfitted in skintight leather, biker boots, and a pistol held close to her thigh.

"Righteous." She grinned and lifted her fist to Morganna as she glanced at the outfit.

Meeting the other woman's fist with hers, Morganna slid a look to Clint's closed expression

, winking back at Jayne subtly. He hadn't said two words since he had come out of the bedroom dressed in the leather pants, shit kicker boots, and black shirt and leather jacket. He looked hot as hell, in more ways than one, Morganna thought with an inward laugh.

"Everything is in place." Jayne hid her smile as she nodded back to Clint. "The lower suite has a private entrance to it, or you can use the main entrance. We'll slip you down in the private elevator and you can come back upstairs through the main entrance. No one will know you just arrived."

She slid a key card into the elevator's security slider and ushered them inside.

"Is Joe's team in place?" Clint questioned as the doors slid closed.

"All but the tech in the van." She nodded. "I managed to get a little bug inside the vehicle, though. If he calls out to Fuentes, we'll know it."

Morganna caught the look Clint slid her way. "Where did you get your bugs?"

"I make them myself," Jayne drawled. "Want a few?"

His answer was a noncommittal grunt.

"I think he's upset with you, Jayne," Morganna sighed, "He doesn't like the outfit."

"What outfit?" he growled. "There's no outfit to it. A few strips of cloth, that's it."

Jayne lifted her brows mockingly as she glanced at Morganna. Morganna sighed. Again.

"She'll be noticed." Jayne shrugged in unconcern. "The object is to have her seen and to push Fuentes into making his move soon. If he makes it while we're prepared, we have a better chance."

Morganna glanced at Clint as he turned his gaze to Jayne. The flat, knowing glint in his eye had her lips twitching. Yeah, he was aware of all that, but that didn't mean he liked any of it.

"Here we are," Jayne announced as the elevator slid to a smooth stop. "We've had all the security pass cards into the suite changed." She handed Clint a key card, which he tucked into the front pocket of his pants. "You're fully stocked with drinks and snacks; if you want anything in the way of meals, Drage's chef will take care of you. His number is beside the phone in the kitchenette."

Morganna stepped from the elevator, entering an opulent, richly designed sitting room the size of the lower floor of her house. A wide leather couch and matching chairs sat well back from a gas-lit fireplace. The opposite wall held a huge wall-mounted television.

The small dining room and kitchenette were open into the living room except for gleaming marble columns used as ceiling support. A wide hallway led to the bedrooms. Clint set the duffel bags he had carried from the car beside the couch and turned back to Jayne. "I'm carrying. Make sure your men are aware of that." Jayne grimaced. House policy was no weapons, period. The entrance and exits were equipped with advanced electronic sensors to help pick up any handguns being slipped into the club. "I assumed you were. Stay away from the en-trances and we'll be fine. I've already alerted my men. The bouncers on duty tonight were handpicked by me and are trustworthy. So we should be good to go." He nodded. "We'll be up momentarily." Jayne's lips twitched as Morganna rolled her eyes; the invitation to leave was clear.

"I'll see you upstairs then." Jayne nodded briskly as she turned back to the elevator.

Silence filled the room as she stepped into the elevator and the door slid shut. Clint turned to Morganna, his gaze brooding as he swept over her outfit. "I wouldn't start over the outfit again, Clint," she warned him softly, her eyes narrowing at the dangerous glint in his eyes.

He looked rakish, wicked with the new growth of beard that he hadn't shaven. His midnight blue eyes were dark, filling with lust and just a hint of danger as he advanced on her.

Morganna backed up warily.

"Do you think I'd hurt you?" His voice was a sensual rasp across her senses as she swallowed with difficulty.

Morganna shook her head slowly. "No. You would never strike me." There were other ways to hurt her. He could gain her cooperation with his touch, make her dress in a nun'* habit and enjoy it, until the haze of sexual pleasure wore off. He made her weak. He made her want to give in to him, made her wonder if that would hold him to her forever, even though she knew better.

"Then why are you backing away from me?" He continued to advance on her. She continued to move backward until she came up against one of the thick column supports.

She breathed, a quick, hard inhalation as he caught both wrists, gripping both in one hand as he pulled her arms over her head, holding them against the post.

"Do you know what that outfit does to me, Morganna?" he whispered.

"Pisses you off?" she guessed, fighting to tamp down the nervousness rising within her.

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