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Book: Revealing Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 4) by Kat Cantrell
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Authors: Kat Cantrell
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ready for bed and fell into a fitful sleep until something nudged her partially awake. Faint sounds traveled through the wall. Yeah, the walls were thin but not thin enough to recognize what was happening on Evan’s side of the Sheetrock.
Her eyelids blinked open and she stared at the ceiling, straining to hear. Murmuring. Was Evan talking to someone?
Not her business. He could make a phone call in the middle of the night if he wanted to. If she’d been sleeping like she should be, she’d never have known. He was much quieter than Anna, which was the whole reason she’d come up with the idea of moving in here in the first place.
So of course she cursed the fact that she couldn’t tell what he was saying.
Hell. He might actually have a person in there. There was nothing that said he hadn’t brought a girl home. They could have taken a shower together. Maybe he did that three times a week. But she didn’t think so. Evan never talked to anyone, let alone the multitudes of women who continually tried to catch his eye.
It had taken her a month to get a smile out of him. If he had someone in his room, she’d turn in her Girl Card in a heartbeat.
The muffled sound came again, followed by a low yelp.
She sat up and pressed her ear to the wall. Shoot. That wasn’t any better, and Evan had gone quiet.
More murmuring. Another faint yelp. Dex’s warnings about being the person Evan needed floated back to her, but it had completely different context now. Should she check on him?
A loud thump reverberated against her cheek, like something had hit the wall. That decided it. She bolted out of bed, threw on a robe over her boy shorts and tank top and eased open her door. Evan’s was ajar, thank God, and the hall light was on.
Good. He was probably doing pushups or something because he couldn’t sleep. She’d peek through the crack and make sure, then go back to sleep. None of this was her business anyway, and stalking a man in his bedroom wasn’t how she normally operated.
Of course, men typically summoned her into theirs without a lot of hoopla. This was the first time she’d ever contemplated bearding one in his lair without a previous invitation.
Evan was sprawled out under the sheets, eyes closed. The hall light beamed across his face as he murmured something over and over. Jordan . A former teammate? The river? Then he threw his arm up above his head to whack the wall. Rachel flinched. Surely that would wake him up and he’d catch her ogling him as he slept.
But he didn’t open his eyes, and she realized he was dreaming. He yelped again, thrashing against the sheets as if they’d turned into a living thing.
Not dreaming. Having a nightmare more like.
This was totally out of her realm of expertise. Should she wake him up? Seemed like that was the wrong thing to do, especially when Evan outweighed her by a million pounds of muscle. But he might hurt himself.
All at once Evan threw off the sheet and rolled onto his side, hand pillowed under his head. His breathing grew rhythmic, and his face settled. Was that it then? Everything was okay?
The light shone across his bare body in a long slice, and since it was her civic duty to ensure his safety, she took a moment to look her fill. Her gaze wandered down the exquisitely sculpted torso that eclipsed every fantasy she’d ever had about Evan Silva. The man was gorgeous.
That’s when her gaze registered the indents strewn across his chest. Lots of them. The pale light didn’t provide much detail, but her stomach swirled with a sick lurch just the same.
The indents were places where his flesh had torn, only to be unevenly sewn back together.
Until recently she’d never known anyone who’d seen combat, but it wasn’t difficult to put context to what her eyes were telling her. Evan had been shot. Many times by the look of it. And if he’d wanted to advertise that fact, he’d have paraded through the living area with his shirt off, pointing to the
Her eyelids blinked open and she stared at the ceiling, straining to hear. Murmuring. Was Evan talking to someone?
Not her business. He could make a phone call in the middle of the night if he wanted to. If she’d been sleeping like she should be, she’d never have known. He was much quieter than Anna, which was the whole reason she’d come up with the idea of moving in here in the first place.
So of course she cursed the fact that she couldn’t tell what he was saying.
Hell. He might actually have a person in there. There was nothing that said he hadn’t brought a girl home. They could have taken a shower together. Maybe he did that three times a week. But she didn’t think so. Evan never talked to anyone, let alone the multitudes of women who continually tried to catch his eye.
It had taken her a month to get a smile out of him. If he had someone in his room, she’d turn in her Girl Card in a heartbeat.
The muffled sound came again, followed by a low yelp.
She sat up and pressed her ear to the wall. Shoot. That wasn’t any better, and Evan had gone quiet.
More murmuring. Another faint yelp. Dex’s warnings about being the person Evan needed floated back to her, but it had completely different context now. Should she check on him?
A loud thump reverberated against her cheek, like something had hit the wall. That decided it. She bolted out of bed, threw on a robe over her boy shorts and tank top and eased open her door. Evan’s was ajar, thank God, and the hall light was on.
Good. He was probably doing pushups or something because he couldn’t sleep. She’d peek through the crack and make sure, then go back to sleep. None of this was her business anyway, and stalking a man in his bedroom wasn’t how she normally operated.
Of course, men typically summoned her into theirs without a lot of hoopla. This was the first time she’d ever contemplated bearding one in his lair without a previous invitation.
Evan was sprawled out under the sheets, eyes closed. The hall light beamed across his face as he murmured something over and over. Jordan . A former teammate? The river? Then he threw his arm up above his head to whack the wall. Rachel flinched. Surely that would wake him up and he’d catch her ogling him as he slept.
But he didn’t open his eyes, and she realized he was dreaming. He yelped again, thrashing against the sheets as if they’d turned into a living thing.
Not dreaming. Having a nightmare more like.
This was totally out of her realm of expertise. Should she wake him up? Seemed like that was the wrong thing to do, especially when Evan outweighed her by a million pounds of muscle. But he might hurt himself.
All at once Evan threw off the sheet and rolled onto his side, hand pillowed under his head. His breathing grew rhythmic, and his face settled. Was that it then? Everything was okay?
The light shone across his bare body in a long slice, and since it was her civic duty to ensure his safety, she took a moment to look her fill. Her gaze wandered down the exquisitely sculpted torso that eclipsed every fantasy she’d ever had about Evan Silva. The man was gorgeous.
That’s when her gaze registered the indents strewn across his chest. Lots of them. The pale light didn’t provide much detail, but her stomach swirled with a sick lurch just the same.
The indents were places where his flesh had torn, only to be unevenly sewn back together.
Until recently she’d never known anyone who’d seen combat, but it wasn’t difficult to put context to what her eyes were telling her. Evan had been shot. Many times by the look of it. And if he’d wanted to advertise that fact, he’d have paraded through the living area with his shirt off, pointing to the
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