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big white bed with tubes in four places and his body burning like someone had rammed him through a giant garlic press.
    Six months in rehab had brought him back to seventy percent of his fighting strength, and Gabe was battling for more every day. He only wished he could track down the idiot who’d designed the shipboard ignition wiring that had exploded. It would have been a pleasure to teach him the value of quality control the old-fashioned way.
    With Gabe’s fists shoved down his throat and any other available body parts.
    He touched his knee by reflex and scowled. But he’d get by. That’s what SEALs did.
    His first order of business was to yank his mind out of the pleasant gutter where it was currently wallowing, thanks to the sight of Summer Mulvaney’s flat, naked stomach inches away from his mouth.
    Oh, the things a man could do against an amazing stomach like that.
    Like making that stomach clench hard in sweaty, groaning sex that went on all night.
    Sweat trickled down Gabe’s brow. “It could happen. They’ve got McDonald’s in Peking. Gatorade can’t be far behind.”
    â€œBack off.”
    â€œSome of those things could be pretty damned memorable, honey.”
    â€œLike getting your nose broken by my knee?” Summer muttered. The words were rough, as if she were having trouble breathing.
    Gabe knew the feeling. “That’s one possibility. Of course, with the right woman, a broken nose would be worth it.”
    â€œTrust me, I’m not the right woman.” Her voice was low and tight.
    Just like her lace panties, only inches away from Gabe’s face.
    â€œAnd stop pulling down my skirt.”
    Gabe bit back a sigh of regret at what could have been a major spiritual experience and looked up toward the roof.
Mind out of the gutter, sailor.
“Don’t blame the skirt on me. And do us both a favor, okay? Get up on the damned roof.”
    â€œWith pleasure.” Summer kicked one leg, smacking Gabe hard in the head. “Sorry. It’s—pretty cramped up here, but I’m almost through.” As she spoke, her ankle flashed down, striking his shoulder. The one that still gave him occasional painful moments.
    Gabe bit down an oath, climbing higher on the ladder. Something about the woman was nagging at him. She seemed efficient, calm. Too calm?
    â€œYou okay? Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
    Her naked stomach twisted, shoved into his face, and Gabe had a mind-blowing impression of rose-scented soap mixed with a faint edge of sweat. “Just get out on the damned roof,” he said harshly.
    Before I tear your clothes off and take you against the wall.
    â€œI’m trying, but there’s a piece of metal caught in my skirt. Give me a minute here.”
    Gabe closed his eyes as the rose-sweat scent hit him again. It was woman and sex, innocence and eroticism, and the combination went straight to his groin. He winced with the sudden straining at his zipper, and when he opened his eyes, there was a bead of sweat on her stomach. It took a monumental act of willpower not to lick it off with his tongue.
    The straining at his jeans got tighter. “Let me have a look. I’ll get you free.” He had to do something fast.
    Something besides pull off her skirt and see what she looked like naked beneath it.
    â€œNo, I’m almost done. Just one more tug and—” She made a little puffing sound and bucked hard against his hands, one leg digging into his chest.
    â€œTake it easy or you’ll kick us both over.”
    At least he could talk. For a minute there, with her stomach pressed against his face, Gabe had been sure he’d never talk again.
    â€œYou can stop holding me so tightly.” Summer wriggled against his hands. “Morgan, are you there?”
    â€œStill here. Just trying to hold you steady.”
    â€œWell, loosen up, because I’m going out to the roof.”
    Her body rose