The Navy SEAL's Christmas Bride

by Cora Seton

  Dan was taken aback. A one-night stand was the last thing he was after. He had a feeling a relationship with Sarah could hold his attention for a long time.

  “Just like I thought—you’re the same as every other asshole out there,” she went on before he could say a word of what was on his mind. “Well, head’s-up, hero. I’m not impressed by your Navy SEAL status. If I was allowed to try, I’d pass every test they could throw at me. And I’m not impressed by your super-hero looks. I care about character, kindness and honor far more than I care about muscles. I’m not looking to be your holiday fling. The next time I get involved with a man it will be for the long haul. So just…forget about me, would you? Just leave me alone.”

  She jogged off, leaving Dan speechless. There was pain behind those words—real pain. Some asshole had hurt Sarah—he was sure of it. And her inability to try out for the SEALS—or rather, the Special Forces, in her case—must have hurt her even more. He stood still, his breath fogging the air as he tried to picture how he’d feel in her shoes. What if he’d tried to become a SEAL and been told to go take a hike?

  He’d have been furious.

  He began to walk slowly, thinking it through. Was that why Sarah had such a chip on her shoulder? Because she felt like she’d been held back?

  Was that why she was leaving the military?

  It made sense.

  She must be sick of guys trying to bed her to prove their superiority, too.

  But that’s not what he wanted to do, he thought as he got moving again. He was teasing her so hard precisely because he did respect what she had accomplished, and he was flirting with her so baldly because she turned him on. He jogged after her. When Mason had suggested Sarah as a possible partner in his adventure course, Dan hadn’t taken him seriously. His clients would want to feel they were getting the real deal. They’d want to be taught by men who’d served in elite squads themselves. In his mind, Sarah didn’t fit the criteria.

  But maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was a place for a woman as accomplished as she was proving herself to be. She could attract a female clientele he hadn’t even considered. He decided to test her a few more times before approaching her with an offer, though. She was strong and she was fast, but it took a lot more than that to make an elite fighter.

  He increased his pace again, and was surprised to see how far Sarah had drawn ahead. He’d have to move fast if he wanted to give her a real run for her money. Sarah glanced back, saw him coming and re-doubled her efforts.

  It was too early in the race to push himself into a full-out sprint, but Dan didn’t see any other choice—Sarah had too much of a head start.

  Their friends were waiting for them near the Hall. Dan knew he’d have to race past them and touch the bannister on the stairs to the front door first to win. He ran for all he was worth until he was nearly neck and neck with Sarah. Time to leave her in the dust.

  He called on every ounce of his strength and pushed himself to the limit to pass her, just as they drew close to the cheering crowd.

  “Go, Sarah! Go, Sarah!”

  Wasn’t anyone cheering for him?

  He put that out of his mind and kept his concentration on his goal. Sarah’s gasping breaths behind him told him he hadn’t quite left her behind.

  In fact, when he slapped his hand down on the railing, her hand slapped down just a moment later and she crashed into him, sending him to his knees. She landed in the snow beside him.

  “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She scrambled back to her feet and paced in a circle as their friends mobbed around them.

  “Did you win?” Mason asked Dan, pulling him upright. “That looked awfully close.”

  Sarah was still muttering under her breath. Despite himself, Dan felt sorry for her. She’d nearly beat him, for Christ’s sake.

  “That was awfully close,” he said. Sarah turned toward him in surprise. Had she thought he’d deny it? “Never seen a woman move like that. I’m impressed.” He held out his hand to her. “Good race.”

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Sarah took Dan’s hand hesitantly. She’d lost again and her forfeit was two kisses. If he pulled her close and kissed her now—in front of everyone, like he’d done before—she’d die of humiliation. What if they thought she’d lost on purpose? She could feel her cheeks heating.

  Something in Dan’s gaze told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. He didn’t pull her close, though. He firmly shook her hand and let go. “I’m starving. When’s lunch?”

  “Coming right up!” Regan led the way back inside and Sarah bent to remove her snowshoes. She didn’t notice until the bulk of the crowd had gone indoors that Dan had hung back too.

  “I mean it,” he said, “that was a hell of a race.”

  “Sure.” She knew he was lying. He’d held back long enough for her to take a lead he’d barely overcome. Why had he done that? He could have beat her handily.

  He took her arm when she tried to go inside. “Sarah, slow down a minute. I’m trying to tell you I have a lot of respect for how hard you’ve trained. You’re right; you should be allowed to try out for the Special Forces.”

  She pulled back. “You really believe that?”

  He shrugged. “The process weeds out anyone not strong enough to succeed. Most men don’t pass the tests. I’m not worried about anyone unqualified slipping through.”

  “Right.” She tried to turn away but he held her there.

  “It isn’t a game, Metlin. You know that. The ban on women isn’t about men trying to keep women down. There are some situations that take strength and endurance women just don’t have. But if any woman might have them, it would be someone like you.”

  Anger and acceptance warred within her. She knew what he meant. She could be the strongest, fastest, most capable woman alive and still there’d be men stronger and faster than her. But not more capable; she wouldn’t admit that. And she felt sure that capability stood for a lot. SEALs worked in teams. So did the Special Forces. Not every member of every team had to be the strongest man in the world, right?

  But this was where her doubts crept in, because every man she’d ever spoken to on the subject claimed that capable wasn’t enough. They stood shoulder to shoulder to block her entry to any elite unit. It wasn’t fair.

  She tried to pull away again. She knew what was coming next. Knew she’d honor the bet, too. That was the kind of woman she was. She also knew Dan’s kiss would short circuit her wiring and take her places she didn’t want to go. Whatever this longing was that she battled these days, it wasn’t for a man like him.

  Dan raised his hand to cup her chin and took his time bending down to brush his lips over hers. She held her breath in anticipation.

  She wasn’t disappointed. His mouth on hers sparked a reaction in her body that was all too overwhelming. The truth was, she hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. In the Army, she met plenty of single men, but like she’d said to Dan, they all seemed interested in besting her rather than forming any real attachment. Once the men had seen she could do a salmon ladder—and once they’d taken her informal Krav Maga classes—it was as if she’d ceased to be a woman and instead was some kind of freak. It was never smart to date a fellow service-member anyway, so she hadn’t let it bother her. But she’d grown lonely over the years seeing friends and acquaintances match up while she remained single.

  Dan’s kiss told her she was still a woman. She felt its burn in places that she’d tried to ignore for a long time. As his arms tightened around her, she found herself relaxing against him. Normally she held herself rigid; ready to defend herself. Dan made her feel safe.

  The thought snapped her eyes open and she pulled away.

  “Uh uh—not so fast, Metlin.” Somehow Dan had backed her up against the wall of the house. “I get two kisses and I say when they’re done; not you. Let’s try that again, shall we?”

  “You already got one kiss.” Why did her voice sound so breathless?

  “N
o, I started one and you broke it off. It doesn’t count. But this one does.” Before she could say a word, he kissed her again and oh, what a kiss. She was helpless against this onslaught. Dan used his body to pin her against the wall and she was aware of every part of him. The movement of his lips over hers seared her straight to her soul. He was making it absolutely clear how much he wanted her. Not overtly—not offensively. But clearly enough that she couldn’t pretend not to notice.

  His kiss went on and on until Sarah thought she would lose herself in it for good. When he finally pulled back she could barely keep her feet.

  “Now we’re done.” He straightened, but kept her pinned in the cage of his arms.

  “What about the other one?” Shit. That sounded like she wanted him to kiss her again.

  “I think I’ll save it for later.”

  Disappointment pulsed through her and he grinned as if he knew it. “Anticipation is a good thing, don’t you think?”

  A good thing? Hell, no—she wanted that kiss right now. Sarah leaned back against the house and closed her eyes. Good God, she’d lost her mind.

  “Yeah—me, too,” Dan took her hand and squeezed it.

  She opened her eyes as he led her to the door, puzzling over what he meant by that last remark. Him, too? Did that mean he felt the same heady mix of anticipation and lust she did? If so, they were in trouble.

  One of them needed to stay in control.

  “It’s Christmas time,” Regan protested. “That means celebrating and eating too much food—not a shooting match!”

  “I promise we’ll all eat plenty of food at dinner time after we shoot at our targets. Come on, it’ll be fun.” Mason dropped a kiss on his wife’s nose. The gang was spread through the Hall’s kitchen and dining room, cleaning up after the noon-day meal and discussing how to spend the afternoon. Mason had proposed a shooting contest. So far, Regan wasn’t buying into the idea.

  Dan tried hard not to look at Sarah. Failed. He wondered if he’d exposed too much of his own feelings after their last kiss. When he’d told her he’d save the next one for later, she’d collapsed against the Hall and closed her eyes in what looked like utter defeat. He knew exactly how she felt. He too had longed for another kiss—for far more—but he needed to keep his head on his shoulders if he wasn’t going to embarrass himself. Sarah had made it clear she didn’t want a fling; she wanted something long term. He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Newly out of the military with a business to start, he’d put off any thought of romance.

  Now here it stood in front of him.

  His desire was getting away from him. Twenty-four hours ago he didn’t even know Sarah Metlin. Twelve hours ago, he thought she’d be a fun fling. Then he’d started to consider her as a possible business partner.

  Now he thought she could be more. Much more.

  But that was crazy-talk. He didn’t know Sarah. He didn’t know what he wanted. Except to kiss her again. And again.

  “What’s in it for the winner?” he asked aloud.

  “I’ll tell you one thing; I ain’t kissing you if you win.” Mason shoved him good-naturedly as he passed with a stack of plates.

  Dan grabbed an armful of condiments and followed him into the kitchen where he headed for the refrigerator. “Glad to hear it.”

  “Winner gets a pass on dinner dishes,” Regan announced.

  “And a kiss from his favorite lady under the mistletoe,” Mason added. “See? I learned something from you, Hemmins.” He stole another kiss from Regan.

  “Who says it will be a he?” Ella said from where she was washing up at the sink. “I bet Sarah can outshoot any of you.”

  There was a swell of masculine protest at this idea.

  “It’ll be me and Mason,” Zane said. “We always win at target shooting.”

  “Dan’s pretty good, though,” Mason said. “He might give us a run for our money.”

  “My money is still on Sarah.” Ella smiled at her.

  “You’d better stop betting on me. I’ve already cost you twice.” Sarah opened a cupboard and put the dish she’d just dried away.

  Dan frowned. Was she so easily shaken up? He expected more confidence in someone of her caliber.

  But when the targets had been set up in one of the empty pastures, and Mason had stamped a thick line in the snow for everyone to stand behind, Sarah’s confidence seemed to be back full-swing. “No bets?” she called out to him as she took up her position several paces away.

  “I thought you were sick of losing them.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet. I’ll have you running those laps around the Hall before you know it.”

  “Ooh, I’m scared, Metlin.”

  “Three laps if I beat you.”

  “That’s three kisses if you lose. And you will lose. Is that your angle? You want more kisses? You don’t have to suffer public humiliation to get them, you know. Just ask me nicely.” He puckered up and blew her one.

  She put out her hand, pretended to catch it, crumple it up, toss it to the ground and step on it. “I’ll be happy if I never kiss you again, Hemmins.”

  He only smiled. They both knew that was a lie.

  “Practice round first!” Mason called out. “Is everyone ready?”

  Dan looked down the line to make sure everyone was behind it. He could instantly tell who knew their way around a weapon and who didn’t. Those with any kind of experience were all looking up and down the line as well. Regan, Ella and a couple of the others had their attention on Mason, instead.

  “The range is hot, folks! Commence firing!”

  Dan took a handful of practice shots, confident he didn’t really need them. Target practice was a number one training priority; he wouldn’t have lost his ability in the last couple of weeks.

  His attention was soon drawn to his right, however, where Sarah was taking a series of shots, each one carefully aimed. He squinted to see the results on her target and drew in a quick breath. She was a hell of a shot. Before he had time to process the information, Ethan’s voice rang out again. “Cease fire. Cease fire!” Dan automatically clicked on the safety, emptied the chamber of his rifle and left the action open, pocketing the cartridges and leaning the rifle against the pasture fence before heading downrange to check his target.

  Sarah arrived at her target ahead of him. He read satisfaction in the set of her shoulders before she balled the paper up and stuffed it in her jacket pocket.

  “Looks like some good shooting,” he said as she passed him going the other way. She shrugged.

  “I did okay.”

  Okay, his ass. She was trying to hide the fact she was a crack shot. He was a crack shot himself, but it looked like she might give him some real competition.

  When everyone had gathered their targets, put up new ones and were back behind the line, Mason called out, “This is the real deal, folks. Five shots! Tightest grouping wins. Ready? Range open!”

  Dan fitted his cartridges back into his rifle, drew up to the line and sighted down the barrel. Five shots. He could do this.

  The rat-a-tat of gunfire cracked down the line. Dan knew he could lose to Mason or Zane just as easily as to Sarah—more easily, probably. After all, Mason was a SEAL and Zane was a Marine. Sarah was just regular Army.

  Worry made him check his sightings twice, though, and that extra work messed with his aim. His grouping was decent, but not as tight as he’d like. When he was done, he slid a glance over to Sarah and found her rigid. Rigid in a good way or a bad?

  He checked her target.

  Damn it, she was quivering because she must be holding back the urge to whoop out loud. And well she might. Even from here he could tell she’d won. Murmurs from Mason and Zane and the others told him he wasn’t the only one who’d seen it.

  “Wow!” Regan’s voice cut over the din. “Sarah—that’s amazing!” She moved forward, rifle still in her hands. Sarah and Mason both grabbed for her simultaneously.

  “Babe—the range is still hot!”
Mason shifted her gently behind the line.

  “Shoot. Sorry! I always get that wrong,” Regan said, hurrying back in place.

  Dan exchanged a look with Mason. That was one thing you didn’t want your wife getting wrong. At least with Sarah he knew she’d be safe around weaponry.

  Dan checked himself. He wasn’t going to be with Sarah—not like that. But when he thought of them going their separate ways after this holiday, his jaw tightened.

  “Cease fire! Range closed!” Mason shouted. Dan went through the motions of making his firearm safe again. By the time he joined the crowd around Sarah’s target, he knew from the exclamations he heard that he’d definitely been beat.

  “Three times around the Hall in the buff, sailor!” The look Sarah turned on him was almost gleeful as the others’ laughter surrounded him.

  Well, he guessed he deserved that for the way he’d gloated over her earlier. But he’d get his revenge. He’d definitely get his sweet revenge.

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  “I can’t believe how good a shot you are!” Regan said to Sarah as she and the rest of the women lined up on the porch to watch Dan’s naked laps around the Hall.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to ogle another man when you’ve got this to look forward to tonight!” Mason called from the doorway where the rest of the men had gathered.

  “I won’t look—much,” Regan said. “It’s your fault for inviting the streaker to stay with us.”

  “It’s Sarah’s fault for winning that damned bet,” Austin said. “Ella, get inside!”

  “I’m just here in solidarity with Sarah,” Ella said with a wink.

  “You better not ogle him!”

  “If Dan’s the only one naked, then he’s my only choice for ogling!”

  “The hell you say.” Austin burst out of the house and unbuttoned his shirt as he clattered down the front steps.