To Seduce a SEAL (Sin City SEALs) Read Online Free

the star he needed to protect. And even if she wasn’t his boss, he was done playing fast and loose with his heart. He didn’t need a Vegas fling with a side of complications.
    “I’ll give you one night,” she said. “But in the morning, I think we’ll all agree that I don’t need around-the-clock bodyguards.”
    Without another glance in his direction, Ms. Chrissie Tate pushed through the door that separated the greenroom from the casino.
    “Ma’am,” Dante said, moving to follow her.
    “Quick trip to the ladies’.” She waved them off. “You don’t need to follow me there, do you?”
    The door slammed behind her.
    Dante shook his head. “Yeah, actually we do.”
    “Give her some space,” Ronan said. “Until she’s comfortable with having us watch her six.” His teammate glanced at the suits. “Watch her back,” he clarified for the businessmen.
    Dante nodded. He planned on keeping his distance. Even though he had a list of reasons to steer clear of complications, he still wanted to claim that kiss.
    But that was why he’d been hired to protect her. He’d bet half her fans took one look at the All-American country star with a body that would make most Vegas strippers weep with envy, and those fans wanted a piece of her, too.
    Not on my watch.
    This time, he would keep the girl safe without landing himself on the sidelines.
    …
    “This is all your fault, Mr. SEAL.”
    Chrissie placed her hands on her hips and waited for the overqualified bodyguard—whom she didn’t want or need—to respond. Sarcasm, anger, maybe a smile, she’d take any response that offered a hint of emotion. She’d been waiting for a few choice words about her deception this morning since he followed her to the ladies’ room earlier.
    So far he’d been professional. Period.
    And he appeared determined to stick to the employer/employee routine. Her bodyguard scanned the music video set as if programmed on autopilot. Observe the surroundings. Calculate the risk factors. Eliminate danger. And repeat.
    She doubted that he’d found a threat. The only person he seemed likely to attack, Jared, the backup singer who was supposed to be out here suffering under the afternoon desert sun, had called in sick.
    “Jared bailed because of you,” she continued. “And now, Mr. SEAL, I’m paying a crew to stand around.”
    “Dante,” he said, his gaze landing on her for a brief second before returning to the open space. “Please call me Dante.”
    She cocked her head and examined the wall of muscle. “Named after the author who wrote about the layers of hell?”
    “After my Neapolitan grandfather.”
    The corner of his mouth twitching upward. Finally, a reaction from Mr. No Nonsense SEAL.
    “That explains the Italian features,” she muttered, studying his profile. His dark Patrick Dempsey locks would probably look great on-camera. And he was 100 percent alpha male.
    But he wasn’t a cowboy. She needed the all-American look for her video love interest.
    She turned and glanced back at the crew. Mason, her manager, was on his phone, trying to find a replacement for Jared.
    Some people probably considered a Navy SEAL as all-American as a cowboy. And women might forgive the Italian features for a glimpse at those muscles…
    Me! Me! Me!
    “Seeing as this is your fault,” she began, her tone professional. Businesslike even. Because she was about to ask for a favor that had nothing to do with wanting to feel his body up against hers one more time.
    “That’s a matter of opinion, Ms. Tate,” he said blandly.
    “Seeing as I feel this is your fault, you could offer to fill in for Jared.”
    “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, eyes front as if he was expecting an attack at any moment. “But I have a job. And I’m afraid it doesn’t involve starring in your show.”
    “I thought SEALs were training to adapt to the situation.”
    He glanced at her. “Combat situations, reconnaissance missions—those scenarios don’t involve