A SEAL’s Desire

by Seton, Cora

  “That fits you to a T,” Alice said, ignoring him. “Renata, you were made for the Regency. What a figure!”

  Renata had long ago learned to use her figure in an aggressive way to put men back on their heels, pairing mannish tailored shirts and lacy scarlet bras. Pencil skirts and knife-edged stilettos. The kind of clothes that told a man that yes, she was a woman, but he’d better not mess with her. She was the one in charge.

  This gown threw all of that on its head.

  “You could lose your wallet down that cleavage,” Clem drawled.

  “Why the hell would you have your wallet anywhere near a woman’s breasts?” Avery challenged him.

  Clem shrugged. “Some women like money.”

  “I bet any woman you’re with demands it.”

  Avery’s snappy comeback was exactly what Renata needed to regain her equilibrium. Even though Clem had gotten the better of her once or twice since he’d arrived, and currently had the winning hand, she had never felt vulnerable around him until she’d put on this gown. She knew how to take care of herself, and Clem was an idiot, but that look—that hungry look—put her off balance. She shouldn’t underestimate him.

  Alice fussed about her, pinching and pinning the fabric in various places until the gown met her specifications. Then she shooed Renata back into the changing room. “Come on, Clem.”

  “Coming.” Clem kept his gaze on Renata until she firmly tugged the fabric of the change room curtain into place. She swore she could still feel his gaze as Avery ducked around the curtain and joined her, beginning to undo the fastenings of her gown.

  “He’s gone,” Avery said.

  “Good.” But Renata’s skin still crawled when she thought of what she’d seen in his eyes.

  An hour and a half later, they were safely back at the bunkhouse, Renata clad in the gown that had fit her best, topped with a long spencer—an old-fashioned, ankle-length jacket—that somehow already fit her perfectly. She kept the jacket done up even when she entered the building, too aware of Clem’s proximity for comfort. He’d insisted on sitting next to her in the sleigh again on the way home, his thigh pressed against hers too firmly for comfort. Avery wasn’t laughing at them this time. Her lips had pinched together as she took in Clem’s encroachment on Renata’s personal space, and as the trip home continued, storm clouds had brewed in her eyes.

  Renata had shaken her head, telling her silently not to comment on the situation. Clem fed on comments. Loved riling everyone up. He was trying to throw her. To make sure he was the one in control of the situation. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of protesting. With the jacket closed to her neckline, he couldn’t see any of the cleavage that had caught his attention earlier, and this forest-green dress wasn’t nearly as low-cut as the wine red one, anyhow.

  Still, as soon as she entered the bunkhouse, the other women present—most of them, it seemed—crowded around.

  “Let’s see what Alice made for you,” Riley said happily.

  Reluctantly, Renata undid the fastenings of her outer garment. Greg appeared from the kitchen and strode over to take it from her and hang it up.

  “Wow,” he breathed when she turned. “That’s… stunning.”

  “It is stunning,” Riley said.

  “I know, right?” Avery put in. “Alice outdid herself, but you should see Renata’s ball gown. Alice plans to send it tomorrow with the rest of her things.”

  Greg’s gaze slid over Renata like a caress, far different from her experience with Clem back at Alice’s workshop.

  “You always look beautiful, Renata, but that takes the cake,” he said.

  Renata prayed she wouldn’t blush. Usually she could control that, another trick she’d learned early on, but something about Greg got under her skin. Made her skittish as a schoolgirl.

  “Makes you think maybe she’s not so frigid after all,” Clem brayed.

  “Fuck off,” Greg told him evenly. He kept his eyes on Renata, his gaze letting her know how much he liked what he saw.

  Did her gaze reveal she liked what she saw, too? A solid man who’d done a day’s work in worn jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt that stretched across a muscled chest. She’d never admit it to anyone, but from time to time she imagined his arms around her, and it felt—familiar. He was the kind of man you wanted next to you in a crisis, guiding your steps, whispering encouragement, steadying you when you thought you couldn’t make it through another moment.

  Renata had a flash of the night she spent in Peru when she’d combed through the woebegone refugees who’d made it down the mountain from where the slide had wiped out most of Colina Blanca. Again and again she’d asked for news of her young charges’ parents. Again and again she’d gotten the same answer—gone—until she wondered if anyone was left alive in the whole world.

  Someone had walked with her. Steadied her. Kept close through the night.

  She’d forgotten all about that until now.

  Who—?

  “You’d be fun to fuck in that gown—Hey!” Clem protested as Greg twisted his hands in the fabric of the man’s shirt at the back of his neck and his waist and half dragged, half carried Clem across the room, turned the door’s handle, shoved it open and threw the director out into the snow. When he shut the door—and locked it—a cheer went up in the room.

  “As I was saying,” Greg said, back a moment later, “that’s some dress. Kai’s got dinner just about ready. Can I get you a chair?”

  “I guess.” She was still angry at him, but she couldn’t help the smile curling her mouth. Clem was such an ass, and it was rare in her life that someone stood up for her.

  That didn’t change anything, though. Greg had put her in an awkward position. She had to reclaim her job and hold on to it for three more years.

  The last thing she could do was fall for him.

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  He was going to regret tossing Clem into a snowbank, Greg thought the following morning, when he’d finished an early round of checking the energy systems and entered the bunkhouse looking for breakfast. He didn’t know where or when Clem would take his revenge, but he was sure it was coming. It had still been worth it. When he’d shut the door on the man last night, he’d turned back in time to catch Renata smiling, even if she’d been short with him for the rest of the evening.

  “I’m not marrying you,” she’d told him before they turned in for the night.

  “We’ll see” was all he’d said.

  He caught sight of her now across the room and went to fetch each of them a folding chair after divesting himself of his outerwear. The bunkhouse filled up, the noise level increasing as people grouped in knots of two or three and chatted, waiting for Kai to ring the cowbell that announced it was time to eat.

  “Savannah’s back!” Nora exclaimed as the door opened again and Jericho ushered his wife into the bunkhouse solicitously. She was holding baby Jacob in her arms.

  “We just popped in to say hello,” he called out as everyone circled around them. “I’m going to get Savannah and Jacob settled in our house, and then I’ll be back to fetch some breakfast for us.”

  “I’m doing just fine and so is Jacob,” Savannah added. “But Jericho insists we take it easy for a day or two, and I don’t mind being spoiled.”

  Greg gathered close like everyone else and caught sight of the tiny baby in her arms, but when he turned to make sure Renata could see as well, the expression on her face arrested him. Pure longing had softened the sharpness of her features, and Greg’s chest tightened. That was the second time he’d seen her look like this. Did Renata want a family?

  He did.

  Anders cleared his throat. “Hold up a second, if you don’t mind. While you’re here, Eve and I have an announcement to make. An important one. We’re hoping to finish what you and Jericho started. The baby requirement,” he clarified when no one seemed to get it. “It’s early days yet. Really early. But Eve’s pregnant. That’s baby number three for Base Cam
p.”

  A cheer went up, and Savannah moved forward to embrace Eve while others shook Anders’s hand. Greg clapped Anders on the back when he got the chance. “Congratulations!”

  But he was looking at Renata, who was looking at Eve, biting her lip and blinking just a little too fast.

  Was Renata—jealous?

  That strange feeling washed through Greg again. Did the director want a family so badly she’d envy another woman who was starting her own? If so, why was she resisting marrying him? Aside from the rushed forty-day aspect of it all. And the fact she was being filmed. And Clem taking her job—

  Things weren’t auspicious now, but maybe that would change in time. He knew he hadn’t imagined the spark between them when he kissed her at the hospital. Renata liked him—at least a little. And despite her hard-bitten determination to excel at her job, she had a softer side, too. He remembered how she’d been in Peru. A natural with children. Her arms open to any and all of them that terrible night.

  Did she want a child of her own? A rush of desire washed through him at the thought of making a family with her, and he took a step closer to Renata, wanting to take her hand in his and make a connection. He suppressed a grin. Stake a claim, more like. He wanted Renata to be his and his alone.

  Renata was backing away, though, heading for the kitchen. He followed, slipped out of the crowd without anyone noticing and found Renata leaning against a counter in the smaller room.

  “What are you doing?” she challenged him when he entered.

  “Just keeping you company.”

  “I don’t need company.” But she didn’t send him away.

  “You seem… tired. It must be hard directing this show—having to keep everyone in line.”

  She met his gaze with suspicion but nodded.

  “I wish I could make it easier for you.”

  She shifted uncomfortably, and Greg decided he’d said enough to let her know he cared what was happening to her. “Looks like it’s going to be a few more minutes before breakfast. Come on.” He gestured her to precede him back into the main room.

  Just in time.

  Kai hurried into the kitchen and seemed surprised to find them there together. Addison came, too. Greg ushered Renata out of there before there was time for them to ask questions and found Savannah, Jericho and Jacob gone and everyone else back to hanging around and chatting.

  Renata still looked pale, and Avery was eyeing her as if she’d guessed something was wrong. Greg knew Renata wouldn’t want to be questioned, so he thought fast. A competition would change the energy between them. She seemed to thrive on competitions. Searching in his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change, counted out two nickels and handed one to Renata. “First one to ten.” He gestured toward the wall and used his toe to point to the crack between two floorboards. “Here’s the foul line.”

  “You want to pitch pennies?”

  Her British accent made it sound positively Dickensian.

  “I want to play nickels.” That’s what they’d called it at the commune. He’d thought he’d have to explain the game to her, but it seemed like she knew it already. “It’ll pass the time until we eat.”

  “Fine.” Renata took her place behind the foul line and tossed the coin toward the wall. It landed about four inches away. She stepped back so Greg could have his turn. His landed three inches away, and he strode forward to collect them. When he handed one back to her, she shook her head. “You’re supposed to keep it when you win.”

  “Do you have change hidden in that dress somewhere?” he asked.

  Renata looked down as if surprised to see the old-fashioned gown. “No,” she admitted.

  “We’ll just play for the glory of it,” he told her and put the nickel into her palm.

  Clem snorted. “No one plays for the glory.” Greg hadn’t seen him come in. “Make a bet,” he goaded Renata. “That’s what real players do.”

  “Don’t let him get to you,” Greg said. “I’ll go first this time.” He stepped up to the line.

  “Twenty dollars,” she said flatly before he could toss his coin. “First one to ten wins twenty dollars.”

  “Okay.” Greg knew if he refused she’d be angry since Clem was watching. He had a feeling if he won the twenty dollars, she’d be angry as well. He couldn’t let her win, though. She’d hate that worst of all.

  He was going to lose no matter what, he realized. Clem’s grin told him that was exactly the point.

  Greg tossed his coin and bounced it off the wall hard enough it landed a foot away.

  “Don’t let him get to you.” Renata parroted back his earlier advice, tossed her coin and won handily. “We’re tied up at one.”

  They took their turns, a small crowd gathering around them as people realized what they were doing. By the time Kai came out to announce lunch, Renata had seven, and he had eight.

  “Don’t let the food get cold,” Kai called out when no one moved to come get it.

  “Hurry up,” Boone told Greg.

  Greg took his shot. Landed the coin within an inch of the wall.

  Renata frowned. Took hers.

  “Oh, lucky shot!” Hope exclaimed. The coin had landed only a millimeter or so away from the wall.

  “Eight–eight,” Riley called out.

  Renata went first. This toss wasn’t nearly so accurate. A good six inches separated it from the wall, and Greg was confident he could beat that.

  He did. But Renata took the next one.

  “Nine–nine,” Riley said. “This is it!”

  Renata tossed her coin and landed it a fraction of an inch from the wall.

  How was she doing that?

  Greg slid a look her way. Caught a tiny, satisfied smile on her lips that threw him for a loop and did distracting things to him low in his anatomy. That was the look of someone who knew exactly what she was doing. Renata had played this game before, hadn’t she? A lot, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  “Take the shot. Let’s eat!” Boone exhorted him.

  Greg took the shot, realizing only after the coin had left his hand he’d barely stopped to aim. He swore, knowing before the coin landed how badly he’d miscalculated.

  “Renata wins! That’s twenty bucks for the lady,” Avery crowed.

  Greg took out his wallet and handed over the bill, shaking his head. He leaned in close to Renata, keeping his voice low so no one else would hear. “I think I’ve been played.”

  “Spend enough time in the foster care system, and you learn all sorts of things.” She snapped her mouth shut, and Greg realized she hadn’t meant to say that.

  Foster care system? Renata?

  He let it go for now but promised himself he’d ask about it later. “Come on,” he said instead. “Let’s eat.”

  “I could beat you. Easy,” Clem sneered when the meal was over and people were trickling out the door to their morning pursuits.

  Renata, waiting for Greg to come back after dropping their dishes in the kitchen, stood with a hand in a pocket she blessed Alice for putting in the gown, her fingers curled around the twenty-dollar bill she’d won. Twenty dollars closer to the amount she’d pledged to send the girls’ school in Peru over the next three years. Twenty dollars closer to the day when she could explore other work options.

  Or have a baby of her own.

  Stop that, she told herself. Her mind was out of control these days, and she needed to focus on her goals.

  In the beginning, when she’d first taken on responsibility for the girls, she, Mayra and Gabriela had set a budget to cover their expenses—a certain amount per girl per month that Renata had assured them she could pay. Over the years, that number had diminished as the older students graduated and went on to support themselves. Seven students left with twenty-nine months until they all graduated still added up to a substantial number—but a finite one. Renata hated to focus so much on the money when she’d always loved helping the girls, but she was looking forward to a time when she’d have more options.


  “Baloney,” she told Clem. “You couldn’t beat me if my hands were tied behind my back and I had to toss the coin with my teeth.” Too late she realized how he’d take her words.

  He leered at her. “I’ll beat you any way you like.”

  “Ick,” Avery said, passing by. “Clem, why can’t you say anything normal?”

  Clem ignored her. “First to ten. Right now.”

  “And let me guess. You want to bet twenty dollars,” Renata said tiredly.

  “Not twenty. One hundred. I’m a man, not a weasel.”

  Avery snorted. “Debatable.”

  “Fine,” Renata said. “Let’s bet.” Why not? She’d barely unleashed her potential in her game with Greg. It had been fun seeing the moment Greg had realized she’d been playing him. She couldn’t count the number of games she’d participated in as a kid in one group home or another between placements in families. She’d practiced all the time when she was alone back then, a way to stave off the fear of what might come next. She wasn’t just good at pitching pennies—or nickels; she was an expert.

  She stepped up to the foul line she and Greg had used before, took out the same nickel Greg had given her and tossed it, deliberately making a creditable, but not very good, shot.

  Clem stepped up next, tossed and won, of course, his triumphant smugness laughable as he retrieved the coins. Her skin crawled when he deliberately stroked a finger over her palm as he handed her coin back, but Renata didn’t let it get to her: she’d faced plenty of that, too, back in the group homes.

  She let Clem win four out of the five first shots.

  “Four to one,” Avery announced. The bunkhouse wasn’t nearly as full as it had been, but those who were there began to gather around.

  “Pathetic,” Clem said to Renata. “See? I can beat you any time.”

  Renata took the next round. And the next. And the next.

  Clem began to sweat.

  She won the next round. And kept winning, mercilessly landing every coin within an inch of the wall.

  Clem swore when the score reached eight–four. Swore again when it became nine–four.