Call To Redemption. Tawny Weber

sundress. Wide straps and a squared-off neckline didn’t show a lot of skin. The loose fabric fluttered and settled, but didn’t hug tight enough to show the curves beneath. And while the skirt hit her knees, he’d gotten a good enough look at those legs on her trip down the stairs to know they were prime.

      She looked like a sexy anime figure or a sassy fairy. Not the sugary sweet kind, though. The kind that could kick serious ass and stir up all manner of mischief. It was an interesting contrast to the back-off vibe she exuded.

      He probably could have ignored her sultry intensity, or the hint of wildness. But all of that and the challenge of breaking through her shield of indifference? That was almost impossible to resist.

      Nic tipped back his beer and watched her scan her cell phone. After a quick check, she set it facedown on the table. Tapped her fingers on the case while staring out at the ocean. Lifted the phone and checked again. This time when she set it down, she slid it behind her drink.

      He started the countdown in his head.

      Ten seconds.

      He could practically see her vibrating her way through them before she reached for the phone again.

      Not used to relaxing, he deduced.

      He could relate.

      It’d taken him years to learn to shut it off and be in the moment. Especially if the moment demanded relaxation.

      His gaze roamed her face again, with its impression of sharp energy contrasting with her sensual beauty.

      Maybe he could give her a few tips.

      Nic leaned against the bar and considered.

      Not since his college days had Nic had to pick up a woman. Since he’d joined the Navy, especially since becoming a SEAL, the women usually made the initial move. From a time-management standpoint, he appreciated that. It meant he simply accepted or deflected, depending on the circumstances.

      Not that he was a dog about it. But like Flipper always said, there was something about being a SEAL that turned any man into a total chick magnet.

      A rock-hard knot of pain hit him in the gut at the thought of Flipper, as the team had dubbed Chief Warrant Officer Mason Powers over a decade ago. Nic swallowed against the misery in his throat, trying to shrug off the heavy weight of what he knew a Navy shrink would term depression.

      Another reason he’d agreed to take leave—to avoid the threatened psych eval the Admiral’s assistant kept muttering about.

      So instead of delving into his reasonable grief in search of underlying issues, or parsing the text of his remorse over the lack of power in an untenable situation, he’d opted for the beach.

      Now he had the choice to sit and brood in his beer over things that couldn’t be changed. Or to make the most of the moment.

      A man trained to respect that moment rarely lasted long, Nic didn’t have to debate that choice. Instead, he stood and, beer in hand, headed across the patio.

      “Hello,” Nic greeted, and sat down opposite the sexy pixie.

      She was even better looking up close, he noted, his gaze skimming the fullness of her lower lip and the tiny sprinkle of freckles scattered over her shoulders.

      “Hello,” she returned in a voice just as sexy as her appearance. The sound was low and hinting at husky—the underlying strength spoke of confident assurance.

      She didn’t act surprised or attempt coyness. She simply gave the slightest tilt of her chin and waited.

      “Are you here alone?”

      “Why? Are you looking for a threesome?”

      Whoa. Nic blinked. He didn’t know if it was the image flashing through his mind—both women looking exactly like the one in front of him—or the bold declaration. But damn, he got hot.

      It’d been a long time since his squid days if a comment like that could make him blank on a response. But shore leave was like riding a bicycle. Hop back on, take a second to balance, then ride it for all it was worth.

      “I’ll be honest. I’ve never had to go looking,” he admitted with a rueful smile. “How about you? If I stay in this seat, is it going to be an issue for someone joining you?”

      She seemed to consider that question for a long moment before her smile widened. Reaching up, she slipped those oversize glasses off so the dark lenses no longer shielded her eyes.

      Nic could only stare.

      Damn.

      He’d taken a hit to the head once when blocks of an exploding building bounced off his helmet. It’d left him stunned, staring and stupid.

      Kind of like now.

      The woman was hot, no question about it. But those eyes? Those eyes were amazing.

      Huge, so big they almost overwhelmed her face. Round, with just the slightest tilt at the corners, her molten-gold gaze was lushly lashed and oddly erotic.

      Before he could say anything stupid—before he could even think of anything stupid to say—a movement caught the corner of his eye.

      Shit.

      Nothing put the skids on a successful pickup than a gregarious relative with a million stories to tell and family pride oozing from his veins.

      Before he could signal his uncle to stay back, the older man strode over with a wide smile and slapped Nic on the back.

      “Dominic, there you are. And with such a lovely companion. Welcome to Keola Hanalei, madam,” the large man greeted, lifting the brunette’s hand to his lips. Nic watched her face, noting her surprise at the move, but he was glad to see there was no insult or disdain on her face.

      “Your resort is lovely, Mr. Keola.”

      “Michael. Any friend of Dominic’s must call me Michael.”

      Nic sat back, silently watching as his uncle deployed his legendary charm and asked the brunette if she’d ever visited Hawaii before, then suggested sights to see, things to do. More, he watched her reaction. Respect, a hint of flattery and sincere interest as Michael covered topics ranging from his favorite meals to try to the best places to buy souvenirs.

      “It’s not often that my nephew is here to visit, but he knows the island and its delights as well as anyone. You’re in good hands. But if there is anything you need, you’ve only to ask.”

      With that and another of those old-world hand kisses that Nic figured only his uncle could pull off, the man left them to greet more guests.

      And the woman simply stared, those anime eyes assessing for a long moment before she smiled.

      “So, Dominic? What do you recommend?”

      He started to correct her. He was only Dominic to a few stubborn holdouts in his family. Everyone else had called him Nic since he was ten. But there was something about the way she said his name, the syllables rolling off her tongue, that stayed his words.

      “Are you a fan of fluffy drinks?” he asked instead.

      “Only inasmuch as I can now say I’ve had one,” she responded with a laugh.

      “Then I recommend we get to know each other better over a real drink.”

      “Define real.”

      Nic’s smile widened. He leaned back in the chair and prepared to enjoy himself. As he did, he noted that the band was setting up. Within twenty minutes of tuning up, the lanai would be crowded with bodies boogying to the island beat.

      “Real, as in not decorated with flowers. If you’re hungry, the food down here is good. Simple, upscale from the usual bar choices.” He tapped the menu she’d yet to check out. “I can recommend the taco platter. The chef has a way with pork and pineapple.”

      “Mmm.” She drew one long finger over