My Greek SEAL Read Online Free PDF Page A

thighs, giving him my worst get serious stare. “I don’t take orders, especially from annoying men.”
    “Oh, I see.” He pauses and brushes a fingertip over his thick upper lip. He shakes his head and then speaks again. “You have very big problem. Always assuming men are bad, controlling people when that’s not true. I’m sure that is what they mean when they say women have baggage.”
    Too loud words fly from my mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Yes, you do. I see it in those beautiful brown eyes. They tell many stories of sadness. But we can talk about this later. I am sure we will be spending a lot of time together during this week.”
    When hell freezes over, I want to shout. Is this Eros a psychologist? And if so, did I ask him to psychoanalyze me? I think not. I swivel around on the beanbag so I can look out at the water. Our boat, the Ionian Goddess , is slowly motoring from our original anchor point toward the mouth of the bay. Everywhere, there are boats. There are hundreds of them in the harbor. Some are slick and shiny. Some are constructed of wood that’s been battered and weathered from many days at sea like ours. Who wouldn’t want to own a boat here? Everywhere there are islands and brilliant blue Ionian Sea.
    “Please, Miss Maya. There is something we can fix if you will stand up for a second.”
    I turn back around to face him. I push my right buttock deeper into the beans, trying to adjust my lopsided position. These things aren’t as comfortable as I they look. “What’s that?” He probably wants to shake my hand for another truce, which will only serve to light up all my erogenous zones again and make it difficult to hate him even though his personality definitely warrants it. I’m not falling for it.
    “Last year I learned something very important about these bean bag chairs.”
    I don’t care if his cousin sewed them herself and his grandmother painted the tour company logo on them after that. “Why do I have to stand to hear about it? Does this thing have a leak? Are beans falling overboard that might kill the fish?”
    Eros shakes his head and gives me a questioning look. “Please, Maya. If you stand up and we count to three and drop into the beanbag at the same time, the spot where you sit won’t be lopsided. You will be much more comfortable.”
    Damn. That’s all there is to this? I guess I really need to lighten up. “I see. We have to count to three.”
    “Yes, that’s right.” He reaches for my hand and without waiting for me to rock my way upward from the too-low position, the muscles in his shoulders bunch and flex and he pulls me up like I’m a sack of feathers. I’m sailing straight toward his chest. Holy crap.
    The hot tingles of electricity racing up my arm were already distracting as hell. Falling into his bulging, muscular arms and being surrounded by his hotness would be too much to bear. I imagine his steely biceps bracketing my shoulders, the protective grip of his large, sinewy hands behind my back.
    Maybe we’d be so close I’d be able to sense his arousal. Or maybe holding me wouldn’t excite him at all. I’m instantly irritated with these random thoughts. This is the worst possible time for a hot man obsession.
    I jerk my weight back to stop the imminent impact. I’ve halted the inertia, but not by much. He’s standing so close, his hot breath tickles my cheek and I can smell his spicy aftershave that is a mingling of cinnamon and ginger and manly sweat. “Okay, now what?” My voice sounds raspy, breathless, unfamiliar. As if I haven’t had a sip of water for hours or just smoked a cigarette. I try to be subtle as I shuffle inch by inch away from him.
    His gaze wanders down the length of my body. Now it is my turn to play psychologist. I see raw sensuality in the depths of his dark eyes. The gold flash I see makes me think of a roaring lion or other wild beast about to attack. I’m more afraid than ever. Afraid he