by Seton, Cora
“Oh, I’m well aware you aren’t one of my teammates,” he said, his eyes sliding over her perfectly feminine figure.
That sent her hurrying into the living room. But not before she sent him a scorching look. Part annoyance at his shameless flirting, part interested.
Once she had settled on the sofa, he cleaned up the leftovers and put the dishes away. Then he joined Cloe. He didn’t sit, though. Instead he stopped in front of her. “Where do you keep your aspirin?”
“You aren’t going to let me be until I take one, are you?”
“You know me well already.”
She just shook her head at him, but he could tell she was a little more at ease.
“In the bathroom cabinet above the sink. Only one, though. I don’t like taking meds.”
“How bad is your headache?”
“Not bad enough to need more than one aspirin.”
Her determined expression made him nod in acquiescence before striding into the bathroom. Aspirin in hand, he detoured to the kitchen for a glass of water, then returned to sit on the sofa with her.
She must not have heard him approach because she jumped when he sat down.
“Sorry.” He handed the aspirin and glass to her. She leaned forward, popped the pill in her mouth, and took a swig of water.
“I should thank you for taking care of that guy today,” she said, setting the glass on the end table. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“How did it feel punching that jerk in the nose?”
Not what he’d expected. He chuckled. “Pretty damn good.”
She nodded as a short silence stretched between them.
“Coffee’s done, want a cup?”
“I’ll get it.”
Donovan rose to his feet and headed for the kitchen. “Already on it. Do you take yours with cream or sugar?”
“A splash of milk, no sugar.”
Not quite as stubborn. Definitely getting more at ease. He poured two cups of coffee, added milk to hers, and returned to the sofa. Cloe had turned on the television, the volume turned down low.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like to watch?” she asked, sipping her coffee.
“I don’t watch much TV, so you choose.” With his schedule he was rarely home. His days were spent training, in the field, or at the restaurant.
She flipped the channel to a sitcom he’d seen once or twice.
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“We could put your Christmas decorations up.”
The color leached from her face and her hands tightened on the coffee cup. “No. I don’t think I’m up to that.”
Something flickered in her eyes. Pain? Not physical. Emotional. His pretty host had suffered a tragedy before today. And damn if he didn’t want to fix it.
“All right, no decorations. How about a movie? I can have one of my brothers bring one over.”
Her fingers eased on the mug. “That sounds good.”
He pulled out his cell phone. “What’s your pleasure?”
She thought for a moment. “Something funny. I’ve had enough drama for today.”
His brother picked up on the second ring. “This better be important.”
“I need you to run to the video store and pick up a couple movies. Comedies. And bring them to this address.” He recited Cloe’s address.
Shane groaned on the other end. “I’m a little busy, if you know what I mean. Can’t Gabby do it? She’s not working tonight.”
“She’s on a date.”
“So am I.”
Donovan knew exactly what kind of ‘date’ his brother was on. One that didn’t include wining and dining a woman. Women picked Shane up; he rarely had to take them anywhere besides his apartment.
“She’ll wait, trust me. See ya in a few.”
He hung up on Shane’s protest, knowing his youngest brother would come through. And the woman he had in bed right now would wait. They always did.
“Everything okay?” Cloe asked when he returned the phone to his pocket.
“Yep. Movie’s on its way.”
“Great. How many brothers do you have?”
“Four. And three sisters.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow. That’s a big family.”
“That’s what happens when you mix an Italian and an Irishwoman.”
“Your mother is Irish?”
“Yep. She was in the States on vacation when she walked into my dad’s restaurant. They married six weeks later.”
“Six weeks? And they’re still together?”
Donovan chuckled. “After twenty-five years they’re still like newlyweds.”
Cloe looked away, a hint of sadness crossing her features. “They’re very lucky.”
“They have something rare.”
She nodded and sipped her coffee, but not before heavy sorrow crossed her face. It didn’t stay long; she masked it quickly.
“How about you? Siblings?” he asked, wondering what had happened to make such a beautiful woman sad.
“No. Just me.” Her voice hitched and she rose hastily to her feet, almost spilling her coffee down her arm. “Did I see a bottle of wine in your bag? I could use a drink. How about you?”
Donovan followed her into the kitchen, sensing the tension in her. He took the bottle from her hand. “Can’t let you do that.”
Her green eyes narrowed on him. “Why not?”
“You have a mild concussion. Alcohol is a depressant, which will make you less likely to notice any adverse effects.”
“I didn’t plan on getting drunk.”
He put the bottle on top of the fridge. “Sorry, cara, no alcohol until the danger is over.”
“You know, beneath that charming exterior you’re a real pain in the ass.”
Donovan laughed. The fire in her pleased him. Much better than the sadness. Which he would get to the bottom of.
Whoa.
Mentally, he took a step back. His parents may have the perfect relationship, but he wasn’t looking for one. The military divorce rate was high. Especially in Spec Ops. Not many women were cut out to stand strong beside their man when he was gone more than he was home. The classified part of his career created a communication barrier. Women liked to talk, expected their men to share, but in his line of work that wasn’t an option.
Jill hadn’t been able to handle it. She’d packed her bags and walked out on him while he was deployed. That had been six months ago. Hell, they’d been together over a year. Jill seemed to accept his career with no trouble. At least that’s what he thought. She’d never communicated with him about her unhappiness over him being gone more than he was home, or that he couldn’t talk about where he went or what he did. He thought he’d found the perfect woman just like his SEAL buddy, Jack Taggart. Jack and Darci were married and making it work. Then again, Darci was an exceptional woman.
Now, he dated just to date. With settling down off the table, socializing had become more fun. The women he dated understood where he came from, and most of them didn’t mind. They were after the same thing he was. No strings made sex incredibly pleasurable. And kept things less complicated.
Sex with this lovely woman would be off the charts with that fire buried carefully inside her. He got the impression she didn’t show it often.
“How about I tempt you with another cup of coffee and dessert.”
She glanced at the wine bottle, out of her reach, then met his gaze. “All right. You win this one, but don’t think you can tell me what to do the rest of the night.”
“Only when necessary.” At her look, he added, “But I promise to do it nicely.”
The corner of her mouth tilted, drawing his gaze to her lips. Damn, she had sexy lips. Catching himself before he did something stupid like kiss her, he guided her into the living room. “You sit. I’ll refill your cup.”
Cloe sat on the sofa with a grimace. “You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.”
“I
t’s my duty. Are you in pain?”
For a moment she hedged. “Some. I think the accident is catching up to me.”
“Anything I can do?”
She shook her head. “The aspirin should start kicking in anytime, thanks.”
He grabbed the throw off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders just as the doorbell rang.
“That’s probably my brother.” On his way to the kitchen he grabbed their cups and set them on the counter by the coffee pot.
When he opened the door his brother stood on the porch looking irritated. He held out the movies.
“You better like them because I’m not going back,” Shane said.
Donovan checked the titles. Two new releases, comedy. Romantic comedies, actually. “You call Angela before picking these out?”
Shane scowled. “Hell, yeah. What do I know about romantic comedies?”
“You know they’re romantic comedies.”
Shane flipped him the bird and headed down the steps. Donovan laughed. His brother would have chosen action flicks with lots of guns and shooting if he hadn’t called their sister first.
“Thanks, bro,” he called.
Shane waved as he climbed onto his bike, revved the engine, and drove away.
Donovan closed the door and carried the movies into the living room. “Matter which one I put in first?”
Cloe shook her head.
He popped one into the DVD player. “Be right back.”
Seconds later, he set their cups on the coffee table and dropped down on the sofa at her feet. “Remote?”
Cloe’s brow quirked as she hit play on the movie. “Sorry, buddy. My house, my remote.”
Resisting the urge to pull her bare feet into his lap and massage them just to touch her soft-looking skin, he held up his hands in surrender. “House rules, got it. Anything else I should know?”
Their gazes met and held. Something flared between them. Cloe looked away first.
“The movie’s starting.”
Getting comfortable, he turned his attention to the television. With luck, this night would go fast because he didn’t like where his thoughts were headed every time he looked at Cloe. She didn’t deserve it after what she’d been through.
But, damn if he didn’t want to watch her instead of the TV.
*
Cloe tried to focus on the movie, a new release she’d wanted to see, but Donovan sitting so close made it impossible. He put her on edge. Not uncomfortable, but aware. Like her nerves were on high alert every time he shifted to pick up his coffee cup or just moved.
He was an incredibly handsome man with his dark hair and sculpted lips. The bit of stubble shadowing his jaw made him more rakish. His dark slacks and crisp white shirt didn’t detract from his roguish appearance at all. This man was a heartbreaker for sure. After a night of mind-blowing sex he’d leave with her heart.
Oh, man. She had to stop before she did something stupid like throw herself at him and beg him to take her to bed just so she could feel again.
A ridiculous thought. She’d tucked her heart away somewhere safe so it wouldn’t get broken again.
That thought tramped down her hormones. Not even with Lance had she felt this kind of sexual pull. And she’d loved him, so how could her feelings be real? Right now she didn’t know up from down. The past year had been a blur, jumping from place to place, trying to find somewhere to stop her tailspin.
Then she’d landed here on this cozy island, which felt like the end of the earth because she could drive no further. The ocean stopped her. So she’d parked her car in the garage and hadn’t driven it since. The island was more suited for bike riding. At least for her.
Donovan chuckled, a low, masculine sound she wanted to hear more of. There had been no laughter in her life for a while now.
His cell rang, startling her. She never got calls anymore. The few friends she’d had finally stopped calling when they didn’t get a callback. She’d put her old life in the rearview and never looked back. It was just too painful.
“Sorry,” Donovan said, pulling out his cell.
She paused the movie. It hadn’t occurred to her that he may have a wife or girlfriend waiting at home for him. He didn’t wear a ring, but many didn’t.
Not wanting to eavesdrop on his conversation, she picked up their cups and carried them into the kitchen. The headache pounding at her temples hadn’t subsided any and her body felt battered. Especially her back where she’d skid across the cement sidewalk. That felt raw in places. When she’d showered the water had stung the abrasions on her back.
Sleeping would be difficult. When she could sleep. Then again, she hadn’t slept well in the past twelve months anyway, so a few scrapes wouldn’t make that much difference.
Instead of filling their cups, she grabbed a couple water bottles out of the fridge and returned to the sofa. Donovan nodded when she held out the water, so she set it on the coffee table with hers. Gingerly, she sat down and pulled the blanket around her shoulders.
“No need to bring over tea, máthair,” Donovan said, glancing at her. “She’s fine. I’m staying with her tonight.”
A long pause. Donovan rubbed his forehead, sending her an apologetic look.
“Yes…I promise… Tá grá agam duit.”
Cloe’s belly fluttered. He wasn’t speaking Italian this time, but it was equally sensual. Not only hearing his deep voice speak it, but the words themselves. Endearing.
Donovan disconnected and replaced his phone in his pocket. “My mom,” he said. “She heard about your accident from my sisters and offered to bring over a pot of tea. Her cure for everything that ails you.”
“That was kind of her. She isn’t coming, is she?”
“No, I talked her out of it. But, she’s a stubborn Irishwoman so don’t be surprised if you have tea delivered to your door by morning.”
A knife stabbed her chest. How many times had her mother called for a visit and Cloe had been too busy working to accept? The past couple years their visits had been reduced to an occasional weekend and holidays. And even then Cloe had brought her work with her. Her mother had never once complained. Just smiled that understanding smile and let it go.
God, if she could go back in time…
“Hey, you okay?”
Her gaze snapped to Donovan, who frowned at her. “Yes, fine,” she said quickly. “What kind of language were you speaking just now?”
“Gaelic.”
Of course. If she wasn’t so busy regressing to the past she’d have put the pieces together. “How many languages can you speak?”
“Five. Italian, Gaelic, Russian and Azebek.”
“Did the Navy train you?”
“Italian and Gaelic were taught to me by my parents. I pick up languages pretty easily so the other two came naturally.”
Evading her question. Guess she wasn’t the only one with secrets. Although his probably had to do with national security.
“I’m sure that proves useful in your line of work.”
He sent her a ghost of a smile and she knew she would get nothing else from him on the matter.
“I should have asked before, do you have someone you need to get home to? I don’t want to be responsible for keeping you from your significant other.”
“No trouble there. I’m not seeing anyone.”
That made her happier than it should have. She shouldn’t care if he was single.
“I’m not going to have to defend myself against a boyfriend walking in on us, am I?” he asked.
“No. I’m not involved with anyone either.” And never would be again. Never would she put herself out there to get hurt again. The loss of another fiancé or worse, husband, would end her. “Should we get back to our movie?”
She hit the play button, her thoughts troubled. She’d made too many mistakes to allow herself to be attracted to Donovan. Too many regrets. The last thing she needed was more.
Why was she thinking about this anyw
ay? They’d only just met and after tomorrow she would probably never see him again. Unless she went to his restaurant, and that wasn’t happening because she couldn’t bear to dine alone. Besides that, he was a SEAL. He would be busy with his career and have no time for her.
If she were interested in having a relationship.
Which she wasn’t.
Chapter Three
‡
“How about dessert before we start the next movie?”
Another romantic comedy sounded like torture, but for Cloe he’d do it. Give him an action flick anytime. Cloe had smiled briefly during the funny parts, but never laughed. He wanted to hear her laugh. Something had stolen the laughter from this woman and damn if he didn’t want to give it back.
She covered her mouth to hide a yawn. “A little sugar might help keep me awake.”
“I can make another pot of coffee.”
“I’m good with water. Thanks.”
While he served up dessert she switched movies. He heard her groan as she rose from the couch. She would be sore for a few days.
Carrying the bowls, he came back into the living room. Cloe perked up when she saw the rich dessert. He handed her a bowl before settling on the end of the sofa.
“Oh. My. God. This is incredible,” Cloe said after taking a bite of the sweet dessert. “How do you stay in shape working around so much great food?”
“Navy doesn’t like it if we’re out of shape.”
She licked her spoon and all his blood flowed south. Damn, had he ever seen anything so sensual?
“Right, I didn’t think of that.”
He tore his eyes off her lips, glistening with crème. If Cloe found out what he was thinking, she’d never trust him.
She finished hers and set the bowl on the table next to his. He refocused his attention on the television and the movie playing.
Safer that way.
Halfway through, Cloe’s head dropped on his shoulder. He looked down to see her lids closed. His own lids had drooped a couple times. Just off deployment, he needed a good eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. That could wait. Cloe mattered right now.
Shaking her shoulder, he said softly, “Cloe. Wake up.”
Her groan went straight to his groin.