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the
    room with her charm and casual photos. The Fiesta executives leaned forward in their seats, hanging on her
    every word as she walked them through a novice dive. Her sassy suit probably didn’t hurt, either, because
    looking at her while she talked was no hardship.
    She strolled past him as she returned to her seat, mouthing, “Gotcha,” and then shifted her monstrosity
    of a bag to his seat when he stood up.
    If she thought he was going down without a fight, she was even crazier than he remembered. The Piper
    of his childhood had relished a good fight. Even as a girl (or maybe because she was a girl with three older
    brothers), she’d always done her best to outrun, outjump and generally outdo anyone who crossed her path.
    She would have made an excellent SEAL, if Uncle Sam allowed women on the team. So he bumped her
    shoulder casually with his hip, leaned down and whispered sotto voce in the most condescending tone he
    could dredge up, “Good job, Piper.”
    He wasn’t going to make this easy for her at all.
    Firing up his PowerPoint presentation, he started stepping his audience through the slides. He’d planned
    a series of challenging adventure dives, along with a mission theme and faux combat training for college-
    aged divers and older. “All of our dive masters are former Navy SEALs. We can train divers to get to the
    next level.”
    The female executive looked intrigued. “So you’re proposing extreme diving.”
    “We’ll coach you to dive like a U.S. Navy SEAL.” He gave her a winning smile. “I think you’d enjoy it.”
    Piper stirred in the back of the room. Clearly, she’d concluded that the business portion of today’s
    agenda was done and the executives wouldn’t see her unless they turned around. She put her feet up on the
    chair ( his chair), stretching her legs out in front of her, and he wondered briefly if her knee hurt. Then he
    stared at her long legs and those shoes.... Those shoes should be illegal. She stretched and her dress fell up
    her thigh. He swallowed. Paused. Danger.
    Quickly, he advanced to the next slide, explaining the SEAL-style obstacle course Deep Dive was
    building. Or, rather, Tag and Daeg were building, because Cal’s head still refused to get with the program.
    He was useless in the water, which made winning this contract that much more important. At least he could
    contribute here.
    Piper shifted and the final shreds of his focus flew out the window. The room was warm, and in a nod
    to the heat, she slid off the jacket. The move pulled the material of her dress tight across her breasts,
    making it clear that her lingerie of choice for today’s business meeting had been a pink-and-black bra,
    despite, or perhaps because of, her white dress. Typical Piper. She loved bold statements.
    And he was staring.
    Focus, sailor.
    He wouldn’t be distracted by happy-go-lucky, viciously competitive Piper Clark again. Although...his
    eyes narrowed even as he kept a pleasant smile plastered on his face. What were the odds she was doing
    this on purpose? She lifted her arms, twisting her hair up into a loose knot. Ran her fingers down her
    throat. His imagination rioted, and his body behaved as if it hadn’t gotten the memo he didn’t like Piper.
    Definitely on purpose.
    She fiddled with the buckles on her shoes, fingers stroking over her ankles, leg drawn up. The shadow
    of her dress on her thigh prevented him from seeing too high, but if she moved another inch, he’d have a
    clear shot of paradise.
    He was going to kill her.
    Ten minutes later, they wrapped up the meeting and headed for the door, the cruise ship executives
    promising a call in the next couple days. Cal had no idea what he’d said at the end, but it must have
    sounded okay because nobody was staring at him with pity in their eyes or a smirk on their lips.
    “Nice job in there,” Piper said, falling into step beside him, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Was she
    being polite, or did she feel