She and Finn sat in silence for a long time, listening to the waves crashing on the beach in a lulling, hypnotic way and the sound of crabs scurrying about the sand some distance off. She wasn’t used to being at a loss for words, but for once, she really didn’t know what to say. And for once, she felt truly uncomfortable being with Finn.

Up until now, she had brushed off any sexual interest he had exhibited toward her as being a matter of wolfish prowess. And since she’d wanted the intimacy as much as he had, she’d assumed he’d needed to satisfy some feral desire, nothing more. That didn’t necessarily mean he wanted her. It was just a way of showing how hot he thought he was while taking care of baser instincts. And being a SEAL on top of that? Alpha to the max.

But now? He’d revealed that he truly had been interested in her all those years, and that made her feel—differently.

That’s when the oddest feeling washed over her. Hunter had been saying for years how she was too choosey. That she’d never find the right mate. And that’s when she realized it. Deep down, she was afraid of men. Well, not any man, but specifically alpha males. She couldn’t take up with a beta because she couldn’t see having a mate who wasn’t up to the challenge. But she was afraid an alpha would quash her own natural alpha tendencies. She wanted—and feared—an alpha male.

She let out her breath with a heavy sigh and noticed Finn turn his head in her direction.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his tone gentle, not pushy.

She shook her head. No way would she tell him or anyone else how she felt about alpha males. She’d successfully hidden her feelings all these years—from herself, even, it seemed. No sense in letting anyone else know how she truly felt. Awkwardly uncomfortable, she started to poke the stick into the sand some more, digging until she had a deep, narrow hole. Doing something physical helped her control her unwanted nervousness.

“If Hunter didn’t want me around you guys, why did he leave me in your protective custody now?” she asked, figuring her brother hadn’t any choice this time.

“He knows any one of us would protect you better than someone who wasn’t one of our team. I just happened to be the only one available for the job.”

Just happened to be? What about Paul? He could have come for her. Unless he had been busy. Maybe he’d been somewhere more inaccessible so he couldn’t get there in time to warn Hunter.

She wanted to know what the guys had really said about her, if they’d bothered to speak about her at all. They’d have to have done it in private, she imagined, when Hunter hadn’t been around. He could be annoyingly protective, even when she didn’t need or certainly want his protection. He’d broken up more potential dates than she could remember.

She poked her stick even deeper, annoyed at Hunter for messing up what might have been a possible mating in several instances if she’d only been able to go her own course without his interference. Now she had Finn watching her every move and no chance to return to her cabin to manage the rental units until this was over. And then? Hunter would be back.

She glanced over at Finn, expecting him to be watching the ocean again as if he were his ancestor Leif Erikson, looking at his real home in the deep blue sea and wanting to sail away to new lands, when instead he was stuck protecting Meara on the beach. He was actually watching her poke the stick into the hole she had made in the sand. He caught her eye, raised his brows, and gave her the most wickedly evil grin. He clasped his hand over hers and pulled the stick out of the hole.

He held her hand firmly and leaning closer to her, his whole posture stating that he was in charge. She frowned at him, not knowing what his problem was.

“Hunter didn’t say how much trouble you could be,” he said, and winked. “We ought to go inside now.”

Her lips parted in protest as she narrowed her eyes at him. But he just gave her a small crocodile smile back and raised his brows a hair.

Heat filled her whole being when he didn’t release her hand. She glanced down at his fingers wrapped around hers, the stick poking at the tip of the hole in the sand.

“I’ll follow you up in a minute,” he said quietly.

She noticed then that his voice was downright husky with sexual overtones. Her gaze quickly shifted to his jeans. Ohmigod, he was fully aroused. As if he knew what she’d realized, he grinned at her. “Follow you up in a minute?” he asked this time.

Hell, he probably couldn’t walk with a boner like that.

Then she wondered what had brought that on? His hand squeezed hers, bringing her attention to the stick in her hand and the hole she’d made in the sand. Her mouth dropped open for a second. Her poking the stick in the hole had given him ideas?

Men were absolutely incorrigible. At least this SEAL was.

***

Meara would be the death of him, Finn thought glumly as he waited for her to enter the house while he attempted to reign in his raging erection. He’d tried to let her down gently, to explain that he couldn’t be the one for her. Yet if he hadn’t been a thrill seeker, Meara would have been just the wolf he wouldn’t have minded settling down with.

He shook his head at himself and glanced at the dark hillside, wondering if Bjornolf had been watching them. He was sure the lone wolf had been, which was the only reason Finn hadn’t given into his more wolfish desires and kissed Meara again on the beach. He couldn’t do that when his mission was protecting her, not ravishing her.

After a few minutes, he put out the fire and headed to the stairs, unable to set aside the thought of Bjornolf kissing her in the lobby. The overwhelming question was: why had he done it?

To goad Finn into action? To announce his claim? Or was that just his usual MO with a woman he found attractive? What the hell was Bjornolf trying to say?

Finn ran up the stairs and entered the house, then locked the door behind him.

Meara was still in the bathroom showering when Finn walked down the hall. He breathed in the sweet, tangy fragrance of tangerines, fresh water, and Meara. He paused to take his fill and thought of her soaping up all that silky soft skin of hers. Then, with the utmost difficulty, he finally let go of thinking of her and entered the bedroom. For an instant, he wanted to haul her into his bedroom, the master bedroom suite of the house, and take her to bed. He sighed. Best to leave things the way they were. If he ever took her to his bed, trying to keep his distance would be a lost cause. As long as they stayed in one of the guest rooms, it felt as though they were more on equal footing.

He stripped out of everything but his boxers and climbed under the covers of the guest bed, then waited expectantly for Meara to return to the bedroom. He should have gone right to sleep. He shouldn’t have been anticipating wrapping his arms around her and snuggling until they both fell asleep. But no matter how hard he tried to see this as just a mission—protect Hunter’s sister at all costs—somehow the demarcation line between what he should be doing and what he wanted to do was blurring.

He’d expected her to be wearing her skimpy pajama shorts set when she walked into the room, but instead, a long terry cloth robe covered her body, and her feet were bare while she towel-dried her hair. She hadn’t seen him in the bed as she moved to the chair where he finally noticed her pajamas were set out. She hung the towel over the back of the chair and then began to untie the robe.

She should have known he was here. Smelled him. Even heard his heart beating at an increased rate. But barring that, he should have made an audible sound, cleared his throat, done something to let her know he was in bed already and watching her with feral desire.

Unable to move, he observed her with fascination as she peeled the robe off her shoulders until she was standing naked and dropped the robe onto the chair. She was turned so he could see her profile, the lovely curve of her breast, the peak of a dusky nipple, her hip, her shapely leg. She moved dreamily as if she was already half asleep, lulled by the heat of the shower, as she pulled the skimpy tank top over her head, the rest of her naked still.

She reached for her shorts, but something made her turn to look at the bed, as if she’d finally realized he might already be there. Her eyes widened and her luscious lips parted, but she didn’t say anything. Expecting her to scold him for being so quiet and watching her in silence, he was surprised when her mouth curved up fractionally, her eyes matching her amusement.

“I don’t imagine this is what Hunter had in mind when he said he wanted you to watch me.”

Finn smiled, and he was certain his wolfish grin looked as needy as he felt.

She slipped on her shorts and sauntered to the bed in a sultry, sexy way. He pulled the covers aside, inviting her to join him—close, and she obliged, her back to him, his body comfortably spooning hers. He should have left well enough alone. Snuggled with her. Enjoyed the heat, the softness, the fragrance that was Meara, yet he couldn’t let go of the niggling exasperation he felt over Bjornolf kissing her in the lobby of Anna’s hotel. And her letting him.

“Why did he kiss you, Meara?” Finn asked, wrapping her in his arms.

Meara sighed heavily and didn’t say anything for the longest time. Finn caressed her shoulder, sweeping her hair aside, and then nuzzled her neck, enjoying her sweet fragrance but wanting to know what Bjornolf’s reasoning was, even though he didn’t expect Meara to have the answer.

She was barely breathing as she relaxed more deeply against him and then finally said, “Why does any man kiss a woman? He just wants to.” She sounded sleepy and… slightly amused.

“He didn’t kiss Anna.” His answer was short and quick and to the point. And annoyed. No matter how much he tried to keep this unemotional, he couldn’t.

He toyed with the thin strap of Meara’s pajama top, his fingers caressing her bare skin, itching to push the straps down and feel her creamy breasts in his hands.

“Did you ask her?”

He stopped what he was doing and considered what she’d said. Meara had a point. Maybe that’s why Anna thought Bjornolf was handsome. Maybe he’d kissed her first and then Meara later.