A SEAL's Consent (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 4)

by Cora Seton

  Surely he’d come to love his child, too—if he got used to the idea?

  She stood, too, plucking at the neckline of her dress. This late in August, the hot days were following one after another, and although mostly she felt fine, sometimes she found it hard to handle the heat.

  “Kai’s fixing us a picnic for dinner,” Jericho said as he led the way to the bunkhouse. “I thought we’d go down to the creek. Maybe it’ll be cooler there. We have a date tonight, remember?”

  How could she forget? She’d give this one more try, she decided. She’d dig deeper into Jericho’s reasoning for not wanting to have kids. Maybe she’d uncover some simple misunderstanding about parenthood she could put to rest. “Sounds like heaven,” she said before she realized she should moderate her response. After all, she had no guarantee she could change Jericho’s mind.

  “I think so too.”

  Jericho didn’t think he’d ever seen someone as beautiful as Savannah looked that night. She was seated on the blanket they’d spread by Pittance Creek, and as she lifted the packets of food Kai had prepared out of the basket one by one, even the presence of a camera crew couldn’t spoil his enjoyment of the moment.

  “Kai’s packed us three kinds of salad, chicken sandwiches, all kinds of fruit and…” She pulled out a bottle. “Oh.”

  Jericho grinned. “Good ol’ Kai. Hand me that.”

  Savannah passed over the bottle of wine slowly. Catching on to her hesitation, Jericho set it aside, wondering if she thought he wanted to get her tipsy and take advantage of her. The thought had crossed his mind. “We’ll get to that later. Food first.” He saw that Kai had non-alcoholic beverages, too. The man thought of everything.

  Savannah busied herself with opening containers and finding serving spoons. Soon they each had a plate of food and began to eat. With Kai’s delicious cooking and Pittance Creek rolling past, he couldn’t ask for a better setting.

  “It sure is warm tonight.” Savannah balanced her plate in one hand and pushed back tendrils of her hair that had escaped from her bonnet.

  “Why don’t you take that hat off? You’d be cooler.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Fondness welled within him as she undid the ribbons holding it in place and lifted her bonnet from her head. She placed it carefully aside and caught him looking. “What?”

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Savannah.”

  “Thank you.” She picked at her food with her fork. “Stop looking at me; I’m trying to eat.”

  Jericho chuckled. “You can’t eat while I watch?” He reached over and ran a finger along her jaw.

  “It’s hard to look alluring while you’re shoveling the most delicious potato salad ever into your mouth. I’m hungry.”

  Jericho liked a woman who liked to eat. “Well, dig in. I’ll pretend you aren’t even here.”

  “Perfect.” Savannah scooped up a pile of potato salad and popped it into her mouth. “Yum,” she said when she’d chewed and swallowed.

  “Do I have to learn to cook to win your heart?” Jericho asked.

  “Learn to cook, clean, do the laundry, walk the dog…” Savannah said lightly, scooping up another forkful.

  “We get to have a dog?”

  “Do you want one?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Sure. I love animals.”

  “You’re not worried a pet would tie you down? Sounds like you plan to have a busy career.” She licked a bit of potato salad off her finger.

  A certain part of Jericho’s anatomy woke up, but he made himself answer her question. “I plan to have a career, but I won’t let it run my life. I’ll pick and choose my projects carefully. Need to leave plenty of time to spoil my wife—which apparently means doing a lot of chores.” He’d like to do a little spoiling right now. If only these damn cameras hadn’t followed them like usual. He’d complained about it to Boone earlier. His friend was lucky—he’d wooed Riley before the show started.

  “Are you saying you’ll clean, cook, feed the dog, walk it, play with it… keep it safe?”

  “Of course.” Jericho bit into a sandwich. Savannah was right; the food was excellent.

  “You think you can handle the responsibility?”

  “Yes, I think I can handle the responsibility of caring for a dog.” Jericho wondered what this was about. “And I can probably learn to grill a steak. Pretty sure I know how to dial a phone to find a cleaning service—hey!” He caught the cherry tomato Savannah had picked out of a salad and thrown at him.

  “Cleaning service, my ass. You’re going to live in a tiny home.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, all right. Probably can keep it halfway decent if I have to. What about you—you’re just going to practice day and night and ignore me and the dog? Walter might not like that.”

  “Wynona won’t give a hoot because she’ll be too busy playing with you,” Savannah retorted.

  “I’m pretty sure Walter will want some mommy time now and then.” Jericho noticed Savannah had stopped eating. She had the most peculiar expression on her face, but she lifted her cloth napkin to wipe her lips and nodded.

  “I guess she will,” she said quietly.

  Did she really care so strongly about whether they got a female dog or a male one? Somehow, Jericho doubted it—and he doubted she was this concerned about whether he’d remember to feed the mutt. “Savannah—are you worried about your career?” he hazarded. “Do you think you’ve taken on too much?”

  She studied her plate as if it contained all the answers. “I have high goals,” she said. “For everything I do—not just my career. It’s important to me to do things right, and I’m not sure I can—without help. What if I fail?”

  Jericho had never seen her look so vulnerable. “Can you fail with music? I mean—not everyone can play at Carnegie Hall, but is that really your goal? I thought it was more about having the chance to entertain people.”

  Savannah bristled. “It’s not like I’m playing pop music.”

  Jericho’s gut told him not to back down. Savannah was worried about something, and he still hadn’t figured out what it was.

  “Would it be bad if you were? Don’t a lot more people listen to pop music than that classical stuff you play? That doesn’t make classical music any less important—” Damn, he was really sticking his foot in it. He tried again. “Listen, play what you want to play whenever you want to play it—that’s all I’m saying. Don’t wait for an audience. Don’t tell yourself you can’t be happy unless you’re headlining some big venue. It’s a great goal, but—”

  “But what—you don’t think I’m good enough?” She set her plate on the ground.

  “That’s not it at all.” Jericho tried to marshal his thoughts into order. “How many top-notch pianists are there? Classical ones—who get to play for audiences on a regular basis? A thousand? A hundred? Ten?”

  She shrugged, her lips set in a thin line.

  “When you graduated with a music degree you did something unusual. Now you’re throwing your hat into an industry that employs very few people, because its audience is small. What will you do when you’ve won? When you’re the best—the very best pianist in the world—for about a minute until the next person gets her turn? See what I mean? You can make it about that one shining moment when you’re on top—or you can make it about the entire journey.”

  “That one moment is all I need—”

  One of the cameramen swore and waved his cell phone at the others. “They’re playing pickup football up near the bunkhouse—shirts and skins. Chris says it’s off the hook; they want all of us there, right now.”

  The crew took off running up the track toward Base Camp without a backward look. Jericho and Savannah watched them go in stunned silence.

  “Did…that just happen?” Savannah asked a moment later.

  Jericho knew what she meant. The quiet the crew left behind was almost eerie.

  “Yeah, it did. You know what this means, don’t you?” He stood up, glad for
the opportunity to drop the fight before it got worse.

  “We should go back and watch the game?”

  “Hell, no!” Jericho laughed. He knew exactly why the men at Base Camp had chosen this moment for a pickup game. Thank God for Boone—always resourceful, that man. His friend was giving him time to seal the deal with Savannah.

  “What, then?”

  Jericho tugged her to her feet. “Time to go skinny-dipping.”

  Why the hell not? Savannah thought as she watched Jericho strip down to his skivvies—and then peel those off, too. Why not enjoy one last romp with this sexy man? Even if their conversation had her brain doing cartwheels? As much as she hated to admit it, the questions Jericho had raised made sense. He was right; she was tying her happiness to an achievement she could barely hope to approach. What if she never played Carnegie Hall—or similar venues? Would her whole life be a failure?

  She touched her belly, then quickly dropped her hand before Jericho saw the gesture. Of course it wouldn’t be. No matter what, she’d have this child.

  And maybe—just maybe—a husband who loved her. She still had hope of Jericho, if she was honest. Even if she couldn’t imagine backing down from her plan to impress her parents. Otherwise, she’d never be fumbling to undo the ties of her dress, then turning around to let him take a crack at it.

  Jericho moved behind her and pulled at the fastenings of her dress. “Hell, this is complicated,” he said when he’d gotten it off her and stood looking at her stays.

  “Get busy,” she told him, still trying to make sense of the desires competing within her. Fame—success—motherhood—

  Jericho.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a chuckle. He got to work and Savannah braced herself as he tugged and pulled the laces free. By the time he’d wrestled her out of them, Savannah had stopped trying to sort out the future. She was far too busy second guessing the present. Letting Jericho undress her had to be a huge mistake.

  But when he reached for the hem of her chemise, pulled it over her head and turned her around, she forgot all her doubts when she saw the look on his face.

  Pure desire.

  His want spurred her own, but she bit back a chuckle when she saw where his gaze rested.

  Not on her belly, as worried as she’d been it might give her away. Typical. She might feel every one of the four pounds she’d gained since getting pregnant, but Jericho hadn’t noticed the slight rounding of her stomach.

  Instead, his gaze rested squarely on her breasts.

  Savannah couldn’t blame him.

  If she’d added some weight to her waistline, she felt like she’d gained at least that much again in her bust—a fact that had driven her to Two Willows more than once so Alice Reed could let out the bodice of her dresses.

  So far she’d managed to hide that from everyone—except maybe Samantha. She’d swear Sam had overheard her talking to Alice the last time they’d visited Two Willows, but the newest addition to Westfield hadn’t mentioned it yet.

  She was still on her honeymoon with Harris at the moment, so Savannah could count on a few more days of peace at least. Maybe Jericho would guess what was going on, though, given how thoroughly he was examining her body.

  He stepped forward, cupped her breasts with his hands and Savannah forgot everything in a wave of sensation that nearly swept her off her feet.

  “Easy,” she gasped. “They’re… a little tender.”

  “Sorry.” Jericho made as if to pull away, but Savannah grabbed his wrists and kept his hands exactly where they were.

  “Don’t be. It feels—amazing.”

  Jericho looked pleased and he began to explore her body with his hands, spending most of his time and effort on her breasts. Savannah, weak in the knees, closed her eyes and gloried in the feelings his touches and caresses spun out of her willing flesh. All she could do was brace her hands on his shoulders and let him have his way with her. It was as if Jericho knew everything about her—and could play her body like a fine instrument.

  When he bent to take one oh-so-sensitive nipple into her mouth, Savannah thought she’d found heaven. Her body was on fire for him. The length of him bobbed against her stomach when he pulled her closer. Savannah couldn’t resist sliding a hand down his hard chest, his washboard abs, to wrap around his thickness and slide her palm along him, glorying in the moan that escaped his mouth.

  “Savannah,” he growled against her neck as she teased him. He grew harder beneath her fingers and Savannah imagined what he’d feel like inside her.

  “Mm-mm,” she moaned, pressing kisses along his shoulder. “Jericho—”

  He pulled her close and she could feel him scanning the vicinity, his gaze settling on the creek. “Come on.”

  He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, stifling another groan as his hardness pressed against the part of her that ached for him most. She clung to him as he bent to fetch something from the jeans he’d discarded, then walked into the creek until he was thigh-deep in it and continued to wade up to their waists.

  Savannah gasped as the cold water lapped over her bottom and thighs, then held on as Jericho tore open a condom wrapper with his teeth and quickly sheathed himself. “We took a chance last time,” he said in explanation.

  If only he knew, Savannah thought.

  Both of them looked at the now-empty wrapper in his hand.

  “Don’t you dare throw that in the water,” she told him.

  “Of course not. Hold on to me.” He surged out of the water again, carrying her with him, until he could shove the wrapper back into his pants pocket. “Next time I’ll open it on land.”

  “We could stay on land,” she pointed out reasonably.

  “No fun in that.”

  Back in the water they went, and Savannah whooped when he nearly tripped and dunked her into the creek.

  “Get back up here,” he told her, grappling with her thighs.

  Savannah, laughing too hard to hold on, did her best to wrap them around his waist again. “You’re taking too long—oh!”

  He slid inside her without preamble, filling her completely. She was so slick and ready for him, Savannah nearly slid over the edge into an orgasm right then and there, but she wasn’t ready for that yet. She wanted to make this last.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she eased up and back down around him again, causing both of them to sigh.

  “Damn, woman—you feel… hell, you feel like everything I’ve always wanted.”

  Savannah didn’t know how to respond to that. She knew exactly what he meant. She felt it, too.

  “What have you done to your breasts?” He sighed as they bobbed against his chest with their rhythmic movements. “They’ve always looked good. But today—”

  He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he pushed into her again, slipped a hand up to cup one and bent to brush his hot, wet tongue over her nipple.

  Savannah gasped and gave herself up to the experience, her whole body swirling with sensation. Jericho was teasing her everywhere, and it felt so good she didn’t want to be anywhere else. When his other hand slid down to cup her bottom, Savannah gloried in the pressure of his touch, the cool water and the heat of their connection.

  Soon Jericho sped up and all she could do was cling to him while he coaxed her to the edge and brought her over into a cascade of ecstasy that pulsed through her body, bringing her bucking up against him, wanting more and more.

  When he came, thrusting deep within her, Savannah knew she wasn’t through with Jericho yet. He had her hooked. She couldn’t imagine sharing this experience with any other man. As she rode out his ecstasy, she explored the idea fully.

  She needed to be with him.

  Wanted to be with him.

  Was—

  A shout warned them someone else was coming. Savannah stiffened, suddenly aware of her nakedness and the intimate position they were in.

  Jericho swore, pulled out of her in a rush and scanned the banks. “
Come on!”

  She still clung to him while he dashed for dry land, scooped up her clothes, set her down and handed them to her. “Run—into the woods. I’ll come back to help you dress when I’ve got them away.” He was fiddling with the condom, racing to get it off. When he tied a quick knot and flung it into the woods, Savannah was shocked.

  “Jericho!”

  “I’ll get it later.”

  “You’re littering!”

  “I’ll get it later! Go!”

  Savannah dashed over the uneven ground, stubbed her toe in the process and danced and hopped her way into the woods, biting back a string of swear words. Couldn’t they have even a few minutes alone? Was that really too much to ask?

  She supposed it was, given their situation.

  She’d barely made it to the cover of the trees before a woman strode down the track. Savannah caught a glimpse of her as she bolted behind a clump of hemlocks to hide. A tall, angular blonde who didn’t look happy.

  “Jericho? For God’s sake, get some clothes on,” the woman snapped.

  Savannah didn’t recognize her, and jealousy reared its ugly head before Jericho exclaimed, “Hold your horses, sis. If you don’t want to see my bare ass, don’t surprise me while I’m skinny-dipping.”

  “No one wants to see your bare ass.”

  Savannah smiled as she slipped her chemise over her head and picked up her stays. She liked Jericho’s bare ass. Too much. She wrapped her stays around her waist backward and began to do up the laces in front. She wouldn’t be able to get them too tight by herself, but she could do them up, shimmy them the right way around and thread her arms through the armholes, at least. Later, she could get one of her friends to help redo them.

  She listened to Jericho’s conversation while she worked on her complicated outfit.

  “How’d you know where to find me?”

  “I know you like to slack off while everyone else is working.” Jericho’s sister’s voice was teasing, but carried an edge.

  “That’s not true. Besides, they’re playing football.”