Never Surrender - Lindsay McKenna Shadow Warriors

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asked, his lips pressed against her hair, the curls tickling him.

      “Mmm, that sounds wonderful. Are you joining me?”

      God, how he wanted to, but Gabe knew better. “No, you need some down time, baby. We went at it pretty hard last night.” And then he smiled. “Pardon my pun.” Gabe traded a boyish grin with her.

      She sighed, closed her eyes and squeezed him. “I’ve never made love in a shower before.”

      “You said you wanted to swim with the sharks.”

      Laughing softly, Bay nodded. “So I did. It was my fault, but I’m not sorry. Are you?”

      “Sorry for loving you?” Gabe pressed a kiss to her brow, the curls soft and silky around her temple. “Never. I’ll have to be dead and gone before that would happen.” A chuckle rumbled up through his broad chest.

      “That’s true,” Bay whispered, turning her cheek to kiss the strong column of his neck. “A bath sounds perfect....”

      “Then let me get it ready for you. Stay here and just rest. All right?”

      Bay didn’t want to leave the circle of Gabe’s arms. His unselfish protection surrounded her and made her feel utterly loved. Pouting, Bay tipped her head back just enough to catch his lambent gaze. His green eyes glittered with lust for her. Instantly her body reacted, a slow heat spreading throughout her lower body once again.

      In truth, she was sore. Gabe was a careful lover, and she knew he would live in a special agony if somehow he accidentally hurt her. He knew what pain was all about and was always concerned he’d hurt her. It had never happened, and Bay knew it never would, but Gabe didn’t. Childhood pain patterns, she knew, bled over into an adult’s life like a stain they could rarely erase from their being. The care burning in his eyes touched her deeply.

      “Okay, call me when it’s ready?” His secrets were safe with her. Sometimes, Gabe was that scared little ten-year-old where she was concerned. She saw Gabe struggle every day with that unconscious knowledge that he’d never been good enough to really have been loved by his abusive father. To know he deserved to be hugged. To be told by his father that he was proud of him. To know that he didn’t carry his father’s sickness or need to hurt others. It was up to her to fill that void. Heal that deep wound within him.

      As Gabe kissed her brow and then left their bed, Bay closed her eyes. She was afraid he’d see or sense her sadness for him, and she in no way wanted him to see her unhappy. He could easily misinterpret it, blame himself instead of blaming his father who imprisoned him in that terrible, lonely, loveless space no child should ever experience. Bay had promised herself long ago that she would love Gabe with all she had, replace that darkness with her light, heal that soul-stealing wound within him and make him whole once more. She knew she could do it with time. She’d seen her mother heal her father’s war wounds, so she knew it could be done with her patience and love for Gabe.

      As she lay there, head nestled on the pillow, Bay stretched out her hand, slowly running her palm over the warm sheet where he’d lain moments before. Maybe that was why Gabe had been powerfully drawn to the SEALs. They were an intense, small family in their own right. The men called one another brothers. They were fierce warriors who always protected one another. Gabe needed a positive male environment, and Bay thought the SEALs had provided him with that. The SEALs had, in effect, become like a surrogate father for him to grow into the man he was with her today.

      God, how she loved him. She would work hard to ensure that he healed from his past and that their love was enough to make them whole.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      BAY TRIED HER best to hide her sadness over their inevitable separation, but it was a losing battle. Today was their last day together. She wanted to cry, feeling as if she were being wrenched away from Gabe. Her heart wept with sorrow.

      She saw him sitting out on the jetty where massive rocks had been laid a hundred years before to stop the erosion from occurring to the island of Coronado. The evening was upon them, the sun near setting. High clouds hanging on the western horizon were turning a gold-pink color, infusing everything, even the flat, mirror-like bay. The salty water was calm, and she noticed Gabe carving something between his long, spare hands. Hands that had loved her so well that she still felt wrapped in euphoria from their afternoon in bed together.

      Bay moved quietly, never believing for a moment Gabe didn’t sense and hear her approach. The first morning at his condo, after getting a delicious bath, she’d told him the story about the Incan jaguar warriors and their powerful clairvoyant abilities. He’d grinned and ruffled her hair, teasing her about it. Yes, SEALs did have heightened awareness. But to be able to invisibly travel to their loved one? Impossible, and Gabe had laughed, shaking his head over her flights of fancy.

      Hurt had flowed through her, and she’d tried to hide her reaction from him. Gabe had sensed it immediately, awkwardly trying to make amends. Grudgingly, Bay had allowed him his belief, but there was something inexplicable going on between them. Maybe telepathy? She didn’t know.

      Her mother, Poppy, had raised her to believe in the invisible realms that surrounded humans on this planet. She believed in fairies, gnomes and elves, too. And Bay had seen her mama at work with the invisible realms. Why were her herbal tinctures, her homeopathic remedies she made by hand in her medicine room, so potent? So healing and life-changing in the best of ways for others?

      She wished with all her heart Gabe could believe in her world, but his childhood had been taken away from him. No one had set him upon their knee to read wonderful tales of fantasy to him. No one had infused his mind with the possibility of magic and creativity actually existing side by side in their everyday world. He was a no-nonsense SEAL. She released her longing for him to share her world. He loved her fiercely; Gabe was doing the best he could, and it was enough for her.

      “Hey,” Bay called to him softly, moving from the lawn to the big black rock where he sat. “What are you doing?”

      Gabe barely turned his head, catching her curious gaze. He’d heard her approach, knew her footstep and the sound of it. No matter what Bay wore or didn’t wear, she was breathtakingly beautiful in his eyes. She had on a soft pink tee and body-hugging jeans that outlined her lower body to perfection. Her curly brown hair was loose and free about her shoulders, a perfect frame for her oval face.

      “Just whittling,” he murmured, gesturing for her to come over and join him. Gabe sensed her sadness, the parting coming tomorrow morning.

      She took his proffered hand, felt his strong fingers wrap securely around her own. She’d chosen a rock next to him, but instead, Gabe gently guided her across his long, hard thigh to sit upon his lap. Gabe wore a desert-tan T-shirt and a pair of dark blue swim trunks. He’d just run five miles a little earlier. Every day he ran down the beach of Coronado where the SEAL BUD/S trainees were trying to make the cut. He called it The Strand. Some small beads of sweat still clung to the short, fine hairs along his temple.

      “What are you carving?” she asked, settling on his lap, curving her arm around his broad shoulders. There was such stability and rocklike steadiness to Gabe. Bay could feel it, inhaled it and absorbed it. He was a rock of the best sort in her world. Sometimes, she was overemotional, and he could reel her in with a word, a tender look or by simply holding her.

      “Something for you,” Gabe murmured, working on a small figurine he’d been shaping for her all week. He closed his Buck knife and handed the carving to her. “Keep this in your Kevlar pocket. Another kind of guard dog to keep you safe while you’re downrange.”

      Gasping as he placed it in her opened palm, Bay’s eyes grew wide. “I-it’s a jaguar!” She stared in disbelief at the finely detailed jungle cat. He’d even stippled tiny patterns across the jaguar to symbolize the black spots on its golden fur. Bay didn’t know what kind of wood it was, but Gabe had chosen it carefully because of its golden color, the same color as a jaguar’s coat.

      The figurine wasn’t more than two inches long, delicately carved and with painstaking care

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