Lucky 7 Brazen Bachelors Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Caridad Piñeiro

  With an easy roll of her eyes, Bryanna dismissed her older brother’s oft-spouted beliefs. Beliefs that Noah had bought into, lock stock and barrel.

  “Are you okay?” the younger woman asked, gripping Gwen’s arm. “You’re kinda pale.”

  Pale, sick to her stomach and filled with such a flurry of emotions that Gwen was surprised her hair wasn’t standing on end.

  “I’m going to get a breath of air,” she excused, hoping she wasn’t wheezing. “Back in a flash.”

  She considered it a credit to her control—and her four-inch-heels—that she didn’t run for the balcony doors. Instead she made her way across the room in a sedate saunter, which was the best her shaking knees could handle.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  She liked Russell.

  She’d worked with him for two and a half years now, had known him even longer since they’d grown up in the same neighborhood. Russell, Bryanna and their older brother Eli had lived across the street from Gwen, and next door to Bryanna’s fiancé Sam and his brother.

  Russell was a sweet guy, and a great friend.

  And he’d been a great safety net the last few years, a nice buffer against her mom’s matchmaking and the idea of dating. But maybe she’d given him the wrong impression. She must have if he was thinking marriage.

  Marriage that he was going to propose tonight of all nights.

  Could this fiasco get any worse?

  Gwen took a long, deep gulp of the foggy San Francisco air, hoping it’d clear her head.

  Behind her, someone coughed a quiet bid for attention.

  Steeling herself with her best social smile, Gwen turned to offer an excuse or a dismissal. Whichever would get rid of the other person until she’d got herself together.

  As if the heavens had heard her question and mistaken it as a joke, there stood the man she’d never gotten over. One shoulder leaning against a pillar, his crooked smile was as familiar as her dreams.

  “Hey, babe. Miss me?”

  A SEAL’s Sacrifice: Chapter Two

  Damn, she was gorgeous.

  She’d grown her hair out. Instead of framing her face in a shaggy pixie, it flowed over her shoulders like black silk, the ends teasing the lush curves of her breasts. His hands warmed, itching to touch, to test their weight.

  Had they changed?

  Were her nipples still hypersensitive? Did she moan when they were licked, whimper when they were nibbled?

  Once upon a time, he’d known Gwen’s body as well as he did his own. He’d known what turned her on, what sent her over the edge. He’d known where her boundaries were and how to push her past them. He’d been able to read her every expression.

  Like the one she was giving him now.

  Wide-eyed shock combined with a million memories, a smidge of horror and, if he wasn’t mistaken, there beneath that sheen of fear was a nice layer of lust.

  She was so good at lust.

  Noah Riker rocked back on his heels with a wicked smile. Sure, it’d been three years since he’d last seen her. Things changed. But as long as that lust was there, he figured he had a shot at changing the important ones back.

  Despite his decision to confront Gwen, he’d wondered if his feelings for her were real or if he was in love with the memory of Gwen rather than the woman herself.

  That’s why he was here. To figure out his feelings, to find out hers. Before it was too late.

  But the tight heat in his body assured him that she could still get him hard and ready with a single glance. If he touched her skin, felt the silky texture of her hair on his body, he knew the need would shift to throbbing demand.

  Ready to find out, Noah stepped forward.

  Before he could reach out, before he’d taken three steps, Gwen’s expression shifted. It was like she’d turned to ice, her entire demeanor chilled, from her distant eyes to the stiff set of her shoulders.

  His grin faded.

  When had she learned to do that?

  “What are you doing here?” Her voice was so cold he was surprised he couldn’t see an icy fog drifting off her lips.

  “It’s my little brother’s engagement party,” he countered. He knew his confusion didn’t show on his face but his irritation might. “Where else would I be?”

  The look in her big blue eyes suggested she’d hoped he was dancing through the flames of hell. But unlike the Gwen he’d known before, the siren on the balcony didn’t hiss out a wish for his misery. She didn’t cuss at him or even throw out a sarcastic comment. She simply arched one of those slender brows of hers and inclined her head, royal to peasant.

  “Where else, indeed,” she murmured, flicking a glance toward the party happening behind him. “Then you should be in there with your brother, celebrating.”

  He’d finagled leave, spent a day on standby waiting for a plane, and then to top it all off, had been subjected to seven hours of his mother’s fluttering.

  No way in hell he’d have gone through all of that just to slap his brother on the back and wish the bride-to-be luck.

  He’d come for Gwen.

  But he knew better than to tell her that.

  Noah leaned back on his heels, his grin returning, this time with a wicked edge.

  He figured he’d piss her off, instead. A pissed off Gwen was a passionate Gwen. And he loved it when her passions ignited.

  “I’m good at multi-tasking,” he reminded her. “I can check out the view, hit on you and celebrate all at the same time.”

  “Hit on me?” she asked, her voice two decibels higher at the end of her sentence and her eyes shooting sparks.

  Satisfaction tangled with desire as a flush poured from her high cheekbones, down her throat and washed over her chest. He remembered in vivid detail that she blushed the same way when she was turned on.

  She also made the sweetest little mewling sound and sucked her lower lip between her teeth just before she came. A vision he planned on seeing before the clock struck midnight.

  Rock hard, Noah reveled in the anticipation pouring through his system. How many times had they ended up tearing each other’s clothes off in the middle of an argument, their spiking emotions setting off an explosion of lust. Hell, how many times had he wound her up for just that reaction.

  Then, just like that, she reeled her temper back. He could actually see her do it. A deep breath that did amazing things for the sequins covering her breasts, a quick clench of her fists so her nails dug into her palms instead of his back, and a tightening of her lips.

  “I’m going inside,” she told him, waving her hand in a shooing motion.

  Seriously? She thought he’d just get out of her way so she could walk out on him? All he did was shift his body, angling his shoulders just enough to block her exit. She wasn’t leaving until he’d achieved his objective.

  He’d made Gwen lose control once.

  Hell, he’d made her lose it thousands of times—only hundreds of which had been while they were naked.

  Looked like he was going to have to figure out how to make her lose it again.

  But his entire strategy was based on the years of knowledge he’d amassed by studying—okay, obsessing over—Gwen Kirkpatrick. But clearly he needed to modify his approach.

  “Don’t you want to hear what I’ve been up to the last three years? Ask me about the places I’ve seen?” He stepped forward, letting his grin ease into a smile of remembrance. She’d always quizzed him like a game show host when he’d come home on leave before. “Want to know how many cuisines I’ve tasted now? Or see pictures from around the world?”

  Once, she’d have done all of that. Three years ago he’d entertained the idea of bringing her with him to live on whatever foreign base he was assigned. Then he’d remembered that most of those assignments would be top secret, temporary and treacherous.

  His smile dimmed.

  “Why would I be curious about anything you’re doing or anywhere you’re seeing?” she countered with just a hint of heat. Then she ro
lled her eyes to dismiss the idea as ridiculous.

  “Because it’s a big world out there and you’re curious about all the fun it holds,” he said quietly, quoting one of her favorite sayings.

  Her eyes flashed hot. Then her lashes swept down before he could tell if they’d sparked with anger or pain.

  “Thanks to the internet, the world is much smaller than it used to be. Anything I want to see or know, I can find myself,” she said, jerking one silky white shoulder in dismissal.

  “You have changed,” he murmured.

  “Of course I’ve changed. What?” She gave him a derisive look, her eyes skimming from the top of his neatly shorn head to the tips of his glossy dress shoes. “Did you expect me to lock myself in a box, pining away for you like a sad schoolgirl?”

  It wasn’t the smart-ass comment that bothered him. He had a fine appreciation for Gwen’s mouthy remarks. It was the ring of truth in her voice. The lack of heat in her eyes. And the absolute indifference in her body language.

  She’d not only learned control, she’d mastered it.

  That shouldn’t piss him off. It wasn’t like he’d wanted her waiting at home, what’d she called it? Pining for him? He’d told her to get on with her life and he’d expected her to do exactly that. But he hadn’t thought she’d change.

  Did that mean she no longer got that little hiccup when she laughed and had stopped sighing just before she drifted into sleep? Had she quit tearing up over holiday movies or lost her taste for those pecan cookies she used to gobble up? What about her dreams, her goals? Were those different, too?

  That he didn’t know drove him crazy. That he might never find out again was like a knife in his gut.

  Irritated at how lost that made him feel, he shoved his clenched fists into the pockets of his slacks.

  He’d known what he was giving up when he’d walked away. And for the last five years, he’d told himself he was okay with that.

  But now he wasn’t.

  He wanted Gwen back. He didn’t know for how long, or for what purpose. That’s what he’d come home to find out.

  As if reading his mind, Gwen shook her head.

  “I don’t know what you’re up to, but it’s not going to work, Noah,” she told him, a hint of a frown creasing her brow. “Let me go inside before someone sees us out here and gets the wrong idea.”

  Noah was a man with many failings, all of which he readily acknowledged. He was pig-headedly stubborn, focused to the point of having tunnel-vision and held a grudge like it was the holy grail. He liked to be right, and had a good enough ego to know he usually was. He buried his sentimental streak deep, refused to admit mistakes and didn’t believe that happiness could last.

  And he couldn’t resist a challenge.

  Like the one standing there dismissing him with that look of chilly indifference.

  “Why?” he countered, his tone just as cold as hers. “Are you afraid to be seen with me?”

  The roll of her eyes was a work of art.

  “Why on earth would I be afraid of anything to do with you?”

  “Maybe you’re worried gossip about the two of us will get back to good ole Russell.” He had to stop and swallow to get past the bitterness in his throat. “Gossip that might mess up you achieving your ultimate goal.”

  “Which would be what, exactly?”

  Noah reached out to lift a strand of hair, rubbing the heavy silk between his fingers as he gave her a long look. He was close enough to see her pupils dilate and the pulse at her throat jump before she moved away so fast she almost stumbled.

  He was man enough to admit he liked her reaction.

  “A marriage proposal, of course.”

  A SEAL’s Sacrifice: Chapter Three

  Gwen shoved both hands into her hair, tugging to try to relieve the pressure building inside her head.

  Was this for real? Maybe she was really home having a nightmare brought on by her traditional New Year’s Eve binge on ice cream, wine and Sees chocolates.

  But she knew better.

  Because in her dreams, even the most painful ones, Noah never came back.

  Which meant this was real. All of it. The delicious temptation standing there, just three feet away, was actually Noah in all his gorgeousness.

  And in his own words, he was here to hit on her.

  Panic gripped her belly, turning her knees to water and sending her heart into her toes.

  “Why does everyone think Russell is proposing except me?” she asked, throwing her hands in the air to grasp the only thing she could handle debating.

  “Word gets around.” The shrug was pure Noah, dismissive and amused at the same time.

  Gwen growled low in her throat, but she was grateful to finally have something to distract her from the wicked cocktail of emotional shock and overwhelming lust churning through her system.

  What was with New Year’s Eve?

  First she’s bombarded by memories, none of which made her feel like kicking up her heels and celebrating. Then the biggest temptation of her life struts back through the door looking as sexy as sin and totally off-limits. Now she finds out—from multiple sources, no less—that her boss, a guy she’d always thought of as a friend, wanted to marry her?

  Gwen felt like a champagne bottle, all shook up and ready to burst. And here she was in skyscraper heels. How could she keep from exploding if she couldn’t pace?

  “Where did you hear Russell is going to propose?” she challenged, both because she wanted to know and because she really, really wanted to wipe that smug look off of Noah’s face. Why did he always have to look so damned good? Even while most of her wanted to shove him aside and storm out of his life the way he’d run out of hers, the rest of her wanted to lick his clothes right off that gorgeous body of his.

  A fact he looked quite aware of as he leaned against the a marble column and gave her that wickedly crooked smile of his.

  “Let’s see, where did I hear?” he mused. “I got it from Sam at Christmas who got it from Bryanna who’s mom overheard Russell telling Eli.”

  Her lips moved as she silently worked through the twists of the gossip vine. Her mouth fell open, comprehension dawning in one fell swoop, like the ball dropping.

  “You came home because you thought I was getting engaged,” she accused, unwelcome delight tangling with anger and shock in her belly.

  “I’m home on leave for the holidays,” he pointed out. “And this is my little brother’s engagement party.”

  “Uh huh.” One brow arched, Gwen crossed her arms under her breasts and cocked her hip to one side. “You came back because you’re jealous.”

  “Of Russell?” Noah’s laugh was pure ego. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Russell’s been here and you haven’t,” Gwen said stiffly, using the only point she had to burst that bubble of bravado.

  “And that’s what you’re looking to hook up with for life? Someone who’s around?”

  He snorted his disbelief but she could see the hint of concern in his eyes. It was like her every dream—at least the clothed ones-from the last three years were coming true.

  Noah was here, right here. Close enough to touch. Her fingers itched because, oh man, she really wanted to touch.

  And he wanted her.

  Her mind reeled with flashbacks of the many times and many ways he’d wanted her, pleasured her.

  Gwen’s heart tried to climb out of her toes and do a little happy dance but she squashed it back down.

  He wasn’t here because he wanted to spend his life with her. He wasn’t even here to claim her as his own.

  He was here to prove a point. Like a dog with a bone he’d buried away. He didn’t want her, but he didn’t like the idea of someone else having her.

  “You’d rather have Russell than me?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amused and shocked.

  Gwen surreptitiously cupped her fingers around her opposite wrist. Yep, she still had a pulse. Which meant the answer to that was not
only no, it was hell no.

  But she wasn’t about to tell Noah that.

  “How do I put this in sailor speak,” she mused instead, tapping a finger against her chin and pretending her insides weren’t shaking. “How about this. Three years ago I offered you a ride on the love boat and you walked away. Now you can live with the fact that this ship has sailed.”

  “And if I said I was ready to commit?” he asked, his words as quiet as the night and just as intense. “What would you say then?”

  Three years ago she’d have begged to hear those words. And knowing she wouldn’t, she’d offered to wait instead, without a commitment, without any promises. But Noah, so mired in his belief that a SEAL couldn’t be anything but, had told her to get on with her life.

  So she’d got on with it.

  She didn’t have any illusions about forgetting the pain of Noah’s rejection, but after years of trying she’d finally patched over it.

  But if she gave in to the passion heating her belly, the same passion she saw in his eyes, she’d be ripping away that patch, leaving herself bare to the misery.

  She couldn’t risk it.

  Even as her body practically whimpered its protest, she stiffened her shoulders and her resolve.

  “I’d say that you had your chance and you walked away. Now you can watch me do the same.”

  With that, despite the miserable pain in her heart, Gwen turned on one heel and forced herself to march through the double doors. Unable to leave without explaining her departure to Russell, but unwilling face anyone, she hurried toward a side-corridor and the haven of temporary peace it offered.

  She was halfway down the hall when Noah grabbed her arm. Her stomach jumped into her throat, knotting there so she could barely breathe.

  His fingers were hot on her skin as he spun her around, his body pinning her against the cool marble wall.

  Her legs went weak as she caught the look in his eyes. Her nerves didn’t stand a chance against the hot passion in those hazel depths.