Redeeming the Billionaire SEAL

by Lauren Canan

  “Ready?” she asked when she caught up to him.

  “It’s this way. Let’s go.” Gathering the reins, he headed back to his mother’s small cabin.

  * * *

  The thunder continued to roll across the sky. It was so dark, it looked like midnight. The wind picked up. They were in for a whale of a storm. Only a couple of hours earlier, it had been a bright sunny day with not a cloud in the sky. Typical Texas weather. If you don’t like it, stick around a couple of minutes. It will usually change.

  Holly urged Sin into a gallop. The thunder became louder, streaks of lightning hitting the ground all around them. The faster they went, the harder the rain stung Holly’s face. They had to traverse about a mile of open range before once again entering a tree line. His mother’s small house sat some distance deeper into the forested area. Entering the thickening trees, Holly slowed, allowing Sin to pick his way over fallen branches and around thornbushes.

  “There.” Chance pointed ahead.

  Holly could just catch glimpses of the blue roof almost hidden behind the trees. Chance guided them into the clearing around the house and into a small barn slightly to the left and behind the cabin. Jumping down, he pushed open the tall double doors and motioned for Holly to go inside. Compared with the main barn at the Masterses’ ranch, this was tiny. At some time in the past one of the six stalls had been converted to a feed-and-tack room. It appeared fresh bedding had been spread in the stall floors, the individual water troughs filled with fresh water.

  “Somebody knew we were coming.” Holly laughed and slid down from Sin’s back.

  “I think the foreman keeps this area fairly clean for just what happened to us today. The storms come on fast. This is about the halfway mark between the house and the butte with the views, where most guests eventually wind up.”

  After riding up under the protective covering, Chance began to unsaddle his gelding and Holly followed suit with Sin. Everything needed a chance to dry out. Holly led him into the closest stall and removed his saddle, blanket and the headstall. With a good shake of his massive body, Sin dried himself off.

  “I think there is some hay at the far end. You might check and make sure it’s fresh.”

  Holly headed in that direction and sure enough, five bales of hay had been set in the corner. Breaking apart one of the bales, she checked for any sign of mold. All was good. She grabbed a couple blocks of the bale and tossed them into Sin’s stall before going back for more for Chance’s gelding.

  While Chance took care of the tack, Holly stood in the structure’s opening. The rain was still coming down in heavy torrents. A glance up at the charcoal sky made her wonder if they were going to be bedding down in the other stalls. As a kid, she’d slept in worse. The image came to mind of her huddled next to Chance in the hollow of a giant hickory tree, listening for signs that the black bear had come back. But she’d never felt true fear. Not when Chance was there with her. But being stuffed in that tree hollow had made it a very long night.

  “Let’s go,” Chance said, coming up from behind her.

  “Where?”

  “In the house.”

  This was where his mother had lived the last years of her life. It was a special place. Holly hesitated, thinking it might be better if she just remained on the porch.

  “If there is a blanket, I’ll be fine out here.”

  His dark brows drew together in a frown. “Holly, it’s fine. Come inside. You need to get out of those clothes. We’re both soaked.”

  She looked at Chance long and hard before finally nodding her head in agreement. She’d been very young when his mother died but she remembered the deep grief that had plagued him for weeks—no, months. She’d once overheard Wade ask Chance where he’d been for three days. He’d said, “Mom’s house.” It was a two-word answer that had been tossed to his brother as he’d walked past him headed to the barn.

  “You can’t find her there, Chance. You need to accept she’s gone and get over it.” For the first time Holly had witnessed Chance lose it. He’d had his eldest brother on the ground, his fist slamming his face in less than a heartbeat. Some ranch hands had pulled him off. With one last glare at his brother, Chance had disappeared into the barn. Instinct had warned Holly that it wasn’t the time to approach him. She remembered the haunted look that covered his features, the straight line of his mouth, the dead look in his eyes. He’d disappeared shortly after. He’d reported to the Naval Special Warfare Center in Coronado, California, and she’d never seen him again. Until two weeks ago.

  He broke into her reflections. “Holly?”

  “Yeah. I’m coming.”

  Holly knew that even after all these years the memories would be as fresh as if the events had occurred yesterday. Though he tried to hide it, she could feel his pain and regret at losing his mother at such a young age. And the anger at his father for contributing to her sadness and consequently, her early demise, stirred the anguish in Chance’s heart.

  Inhaling a deep breath and blowing it out, Holly walked to the front door and stepped inside.

  Eleven

  The house was small, especially when compared with the mansion on the hill, but she could see how Chance’s mother could be comfortable here. Raised ceilings made it feel a lot bigger than it probably was. The kitchen with granite countertops and oak cabinets opened into the den. Frilly curtains hung over the windows. The four canisters on the counter intended for flour, sugar and such were shaped mushrooms, with small bright orange spotted mushrooms painted on the sides and lids. It was colorful, bright and cheerful.

  Holly walked through the house at a leisurely pace. The bedrooms each had an accent wall painted in a cheery color of blue, yellow or green, the decor just as delightful as the kitchen’s. Whimsical. That was the word. The entire house was whimsical. And she loved it.

  “Okay if I take a shower?” The force of the storm was increasing. It would be a while before they were able to return to the ranch. She could feel the dried mud on her face.

  “Of course. Help yourself.”

  The robe she found in a bedroom closet must have belonged to his mother. After taking a quick shower, she reentered the den. The robe fit perfectly. She set her dirty clothes on the kitchen floor, spreading them so they would dry a little bit. Chance had a small fire going in the fireplace. She couldn’t help but notice he still wore his wet jeans but his shirt had been removed and lay on the floor of the kitchen.

  “There’s a washer and dryer in a utility room behind the kitchen. You can dry your things there.”

  “Okay. What about your jeans?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.” Holly held out her hand, palm up, her fingers waving in a gesture of “give them here.” “Give.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You need dry clothes.” She tilted her head, defying him to argue with logic. When Chance didn’t respond, she said, “Now who’s suddenly playing Mr. Modest? Sounds like a dare is needed. Let’s see...”

  “You are just about the most ornery woman I’ve ever met in my entire existence.”

  “Funny. That’s exactly what I say about you. Give me your pants.”

  Shaking his head, he headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later he poked one hand outside the door and dumped his muddy clothes onto the floor.

  “I’m covered in mud. Gonna take a shower.”

  Holly grabbed his jeans, picked up his shirt and her clothes and headed for the laundry room. Every article of clothing was caked with mud. If she didn’t wash them, they would be ruined. Tossing everything into the washer, she added the detergent and hit the button. She returned to the den just as Chance was adding a couple of logs to the fire. He’d found an old pair of jeans from somewhere. The warmth spread out into the room, giving it a cozy, inviting fee
ling.

  Holly idled around the room. In one corner a painting of the three Masters brothers sat on an easel.

  “Did your mother paint this?”

  “Yeah.”

  She had captured each of their characters beautifully. Wade, the eldest, with that stern, in-charge face even when he was about fifteen. Something about the brown eyes softened his features, making him appear a little less arrogant. The picture showed his strength and determination. Confidence. He was very much in charge. Next to Wade was Cole, the middle son. At fourteen, he had a straightforward grin and his honey-brown eyes sparkled. He’d always had the tendency to see the humor in the world. He never appeared to take anything all that seriously, a trait that duped a lot of people. He was as sharp and cunning as a fox, something business adversaries discovered after it was too late. Holly had heard Cole was one hell of a negotiator. She had no reason to doubt it.

  Then there was Chance, the playboy of the three: the impossibly handsome bad boy, adorable even at the tender age of ten. All of the brothers had had their fair share of women ogling them since they’d reached adolescence, but from what her brother told her, Chance had latched on with both hands. Once again, Elaine had captured him perfectly. There was a distinct difference between Chance and his brothers. His vivid blue eyes glowed in contrast to their brown. His hair was a bit lighter in color. Even so long ago, Chance had been unique.

  “There is coffee in the kitchen,” he said. “On the counter to the right of the sink. The cups are in the cabinet above it.

  “Thanks.”

  When she came back with her steaming brew, Chance reached out to his own coffee cup he’d set on the edge of the stone hearth. He took a sip and put it back down, never taking his focus off the letter in his hand. Suddenly, with the small fire blazing behind him and his face drawn in concentration, she was looking at Lieutenant Commander Chance Masters, US Navy SEAL. Serious. Strong in both mind and body. Of above-average intelligence with a physique to back up any immediate, life-threatening decisions he made. It must have been how he’d looked planning his team’s next mission down to the last detail. They counted on him and he was there for them.

  He always would be.

  * * *

  He was being summoned to California for the final decision by the medical evaluation board. Chance didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. He had assumed they would just send a letter notifying him he was either in or out. Apparently they wanted to do it in person.

  “So is that your clearance? The news you’ve been waiting for?”

  Holly stood next to him. Seeing her in his mom’s robe did odd things to his gut. She was so beautiful with her long hair unbraided so it could dry, the golden waves falling over her shoulders. He couldn’t imagine any other woman doing justice to that robe. From the sexiest of negligees to nothing at all, he’d seen everything. No other woman could compare with the vision of Holly he was seeing right now.

  “The letter?” she prompted.

  “Ah, kinda. I’ve been asked to appear at a final hearing in front of the medical evaluation board in three days. I guess I’ll find out then.”

  “So after all of this waiting, you get to wait more. That is so unfair.”

  “Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me,” he joked. Holly apparently didn’t take it that way. He saw her blink her beautiful eyes in rapid succession before she turned away.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said as she walked to the kitchen. “What do we have in here to eat?”

  Holly rarely showed signs of an appetite. Grabbing a piece of cheese or a carrot and eating while on the go had always been her MO. She was upset. She was upset about the letter and what it meant.

  “Holly,” he said, getting to his feet. He could see how she was fighting to maintain the thin sliver of control as a battle raged within her.

  “Got any peanut butter?” She opened a cabinet, closed it and moved to another one. She grabbed the small jar of Peter Pan and lowered it from the shelf, turning it round and round in her hands. He knew her mind was a thousand miles away. In Coronado.

  “Holly,” he said, leaning over her, his arms on either side, balancing his weight on the counter. “I’ll come back. Even if I’m cleared for duty, I swear I will come back.” Coming back to the ranch was not a promise he wanted to make, but it was a promise he would keep. For Holly. If Wade gave them time.

  He saw her nod and brush her hand against her cheeks.

  “Come on, Holly. Turn around and tell me you believe me.”

  “I believe you,” she said but didn’t turn to face him.

  Damn. He couldn’t do this anymore. He could not deny them what they both wanted. The muscles in his body tightened as the idea took hold, and before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed her shoulders, turned her around and cupped her face in his hands. “I will come back.” He leaned toward her and their breaths fused into one as his lips covered hers, their tongues mating until she sighed and her exquisite feminine body melted into his.

  Holly opened her mouth wider, giving him as much as she got, and his body surged to readiness as the kisses deepened and grew more impassioned with every breath. His hands encircled her waist and he set her up on the kitchen counter.

  With the ease of experience, he parted her legs, opening them wide enough to accept his girth. Then he stepped up to fill the space. One hand cupped her face, caressing the velvet softness of her cheek. His other hand reached behind her and pulled her forward to the edge of the countertop, nestling his erection at the apex of her thighs. She made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan and moved against him. He felt the heat between them scorch like fire and her body went limp. She grabbed the belt loops on his jeans, holding him to her as she pressed harder against his throbbing shaft.

  Hell. He wanted to say no. He wanted to stop this before it changed everything, before it could never be taken back. He wanted to ask her if she was sure. But he did none of those things. Instead, he scooped her up into his arms and walked into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them.

  Settling her gently on the bed, he felt almost disconnected with what was happening. They had denied the passion growing between them for so long, to know what was about to happen felt surreal. The thought of it increased the fire in his loins, his erection throbbing.

  “Be sure this is what you want.” Was that his voice? So deep and demanding with more than a hint of frantic worry that she would say no. “Because in about three seconds there will be no turning back.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes soft and clouded, her lips swollen and moist from his kisses. A fierce possession gripped him.

  “One. Two. Three,” she said. “Take off your jeans.”

  Chance unsnapped the button on his waistband and lowered the zipper. Then, bending over her, he parted the robe. Drawing back, he let his eyes roam over her. Holly was so perfect; her skin was so fair, like a porcelain doll. Her breasts were full and heavy, the light pink tips fully erect. Chance lowered himself to suckle one pale rose tip while his hand kneaded the other, his thumb rubbing and teasing. She inhaled deeply, then moaned and arched her back. Her response told him she needed more, and he was ready to give her what she needed.

  But she wasn’t ready to take him yet. He kissed her silken skin as he worked his way down her body from her lips to her belly. The dark blond curls at the joining of her legs enticed him to explore what other secrets she was keeping. Pushing her knees apart, he cupped her hips, raising her to him. He had to taste her essence. He wanted to acquaint himself with all of her.

  She drew in a deep, long breath when his tongue tasted her for the first time. As he completely enjoyed the silken skin and scent of her, her legs dropped open fully and his erection surged past hard to painful. He was about to lose it, but this had to be for Holly. Suddenly her hands gripped his hair and
she stiffened, then cried out. Chance continued to draw out her climax as long as possible, loving the idea he had brought her pleasure. After several minutes she collapsed back on the bed.

  Like a wild animal ready to mate, he ditched the jeans and crawled up her body until his swollen shaft was pressing against her. Returning to the succulent nectar of her mouth, he fed, his tongue probing deep before withdrawing, again and again. A slow, increasing beat of pleasure gripped them both.

  “Are you ready for me, Holly?”

  Her breathing was fast and shallow and she only managed to nod. Her hips pushed against him. “It’s so hot...there.”

  “It’s about to get a lot hotter.” He smiled at her through the darkness. Removing a silver patch from inside his wallet, he tore it open and slipped the condom on. With his hand, he positioned his heavy erection at her core. She was so wet. And she was right about the heat. He couldn’t remember ever being so turned on by a woman. He wanted to take her hard, give in to the lust that gripped him, sink into her womanhood, feel her grip him with her silky wet core and send them both to the moon. Some sixth sense axed that idea. She was small of stature and he didn’t want to hurt her. Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, he entered her, his hands fisted to maintain control. Suddenly, she grew very tight inside and cried out, pushing at his shoulders. All movement stopped. He drew back and their eyes locked. He saw her look of discomfort and was shocked. This was not happening.

  “Holly, tell me you’ve had sex before.”

  She shook her head. “I never wanted anyone but you. There was no one else I felt drawn to. No one I wanted to be with. Please don’t be mad.”

  His nostrils flared; his jaw clamped down so hard it was sheer luck his teeth didn’t shatter from the force. For a second he considered pulling out before it was too late. Even through the shock, he was still highly aroused. She’d saved herself for him. She had never been with another man. Holly moved her hips, pushing up and against him and hurting herself in the effort. It would take more than that. It would require him to do his part. Another look into her beautiful face and Chance knew he would see this through.