Page 12 of Hot SEAL, Under Pressure

If this were a shoot for a Navy ad, what was the recruitment message supposed to be?

Judging by this odd mix of sailors and hot chicks who could all fit into the cast ofAmerica’s Next Top Model, the new recruiting slogan might well be something likeJoin the Navy and get all the hot girls.

“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to ask you to clear the beach. We’ve got a permit to film here this morning.”

At the sound of the voice behind him, Stefan raised his brows in a mix of shock and defiance at being ejected from what he considered his territory.

Turning, he was about to tell her he didn’t give a shit about her permit, when he found himself face-to-face with one of the aforementioned hot chicks.

This one a blonde that would look far better, and less out of place here, in a bikini instead of the business attire she wore.

Blue eyes met his as she flashed him a bleach-white smile that was most likely meant to soften the blow of her telling him he had to leave.

She was tall with mile-long legs but she was curvy in all the right places. The kind of woman he’d probably flirt with had they met one night at McP’s Pub and he was in the mood for female company.

The one unattractive thing about her was, judging by her clipboard and her attitude, she thought she was in charge here.

She also obviously thought that she could tell him what to do. There she was wrong.

He folded his arms. “This equipment is base property.”

She nodded. “Which is why I obtained permission from the base to be here.”

“Why?” he asked.

A frown marred her formerly smooth brow. “Because we need to film the obstacle course.”

“Why?” he repeated, hoping to get a better answer this time.

Her sweet as pie demeanor cracked a bit more as she frowned deeper. “I’m sorry if it’s an inconvenience for you, but—”

He snorted at her non-answer as a dark-haired man, who was maybe in his forties, walked up and said, “Shelly.”

Shelly. At least now he had a name to go with the hot but evasive woman standing between him and his goal—that goal being his kicking his teammates’ asses on the O-Course.

At the interruption, she turned to face the newcomer.

She let out a loud exhale. “Clay. Thank God. You were so late I was worried you weren’t coming. Where’s Tasha?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about. Inprivate.” The guy she’d called Clay glanced briefly at Stefan before focusing back on her.

If they wanted privacy, they probably shouldn’t be meeting here and now. But Stefan was fine with taking a step back if it would move things along a little faster.

He turned and glanced at his teammates. Raising both hands palms up, he shrugged and hoped that told them he didn’t know any more than they did yet. But he wasn’t giving up.

When he turned back he found his nemesis had been pulled a few yards away where she was in deep in what looked to be a serious discussion with the guy who, like a lot of the others with the group, had the look of a SEAL about him.

Judging by the body language and the expression on the face of the blonde—Shelly—things were not well in Hollywoodtown.

A couple of long minutes later, the guy left and she turned. He took the opportunity to move in before she escaped into a conversation with someone else.

Trotting to where she stood looking distraught, he said, “Hey, can we finish our conversation?”

Her gaze came back to him as she drew in a big breath and let it out.

“I’m sorry. What did you want again?” she asked.

With all the color drained out of her face except for two pink spots on her cheeks, the look made her appear even more like a porcelain doll.

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