Page 5 of Hidden Agendas (Tempting SEALs 4)

Kell had watched from afar for years, never interfering, despite his disagreement with the senator. He had watched the steady stream of men sent in to guard that delectable body with aspirations of marriage. Those aspirations never lasted long. A few weeks to a few months. They slinked out of her life with their tails between their legs.

Until two years ago. When she had put her foot down for the first time and refused another male presence in her home. Three months later, Fuentes had taken her. And she had only become more determined since then to learn how to protect herself.

This wasn’t a woman who accepted limits, unless they were her own. She made her own rules. And Kell understood that. He respected that. Even if he was determined that before it was over, she would shape those rules to suit not just her needs, but his as well.

He had found a vixen. Taming her wasn’t on the agenda, but touching her, tasting her was, and that would take careful planning. Because vixens didn’t give in easily.

There would be nothing easy about Emily. But that was okay, because there was nothing easy about him either.

Two

EMILY MADE CERTAIN THE LONG, dark brown wig was firmly in place, the strands of hair hiding the fact that it was indeed a wig. Her makeup exaggerated the arch of her brows and the tilt of her eyes, and the slouchy clothes were nothing like the cool, comfortably loose clothes she normally wore.

Not that she thought Cherry the stripper was fooled. She knew Emily was in disguise. But she didn’t know who Emily was and that was all that mattered. When a senator’s daughter went for extreme research, she did have to at least attempt a measure of decorum. Especially when said senator’s daughter had managed to totally screw up once before and get herself kidnapped.

Her father still hadn’t let her live that one down, and he wasn’t likely to forget it for a while. She wasn’t likely to forget it either, her nightmares assured her of that. That didn’t mean she intended to bury her head in her father’s cocoon-wrapped hideout and forget about living.

If she did that, then Fuentes and the monster that haunted her nightmares would have won. She wasn’t about to allow that to happen.

“So, which outfit?” The stripper Emily had hired to teach her the dance moves indicated a row of gaudy, sparkling material to choose from.

Emily glanced at the row of clothes on the racks as the dancer waved toward them negligently. Cherry Layne was tall, at least five eight without her high heels, and skinny to boot. Damn, Emily hated skinny women.

Long red-gold curls cascaded to Cherry’s slim shoulders and framed a kittenish face that held a smile more often than not.

“How about the schoolgirl outfit?” Cherry indicated the little plaid skirt and white top she had hung on the rack. “Men just go wild for this one.”

“Eww, Cherry. That’s just wrong.” She couldn’t go there. She was a teacher, for pity’s sake. At least, she would be a teacher again after summer break. That was close enough.

Cherry’s grin was wicked. “Sweet girl, you don’t know the fantasies you’re missing out on.”

Emily shuddered and shook her head with a grimace. “Not me. No, thank you.”

The stripper only laughed and fingered through the outfits again.

“Cheerleader?”

“Ugh.” Emily grimaced. “Keep going.”

“There’s not a lot here that will fit you.” Cherry frowned as Emily cast her a mocking glare.

“You don’t have to rub it in.” She sighed.

“Sweetie, you got curves,” Cherry said. “I’d love curves, but some of these outfits just trash a solid body.”

She held up a pair of thongs and wispy bra as an example. “Not exactly curvy material.” She laughed.

“Not exactly my material either.” Emily shook her head. “Let’s keep it simple.”

Very simple. She didn’t want to flash every inch of skin, just see how sexy it felt to do the dance. Kira swore it would awaken hormones she didn’t know she had. Cherry promised it would make her feel hot and desirable.

“Hmm. How about this one? It would go perfect with your figure as well as your personality. Nice and sweet on the outside and all slut on the inside.”

“Slut?” Emily lifted her brows, not knowing if she should be offended or amused.

She had never been considered slut material in her entire life. Prude. Ice queen. Frigid. But never slut. Maybe she should just take it as a compliment, she thought, amused.

“On the inside, sweetie.” Cherry’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Men love the public good girl and the private whore. Haven’t you figured that out?”

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