A SEAL's Pledge (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 3)

by Cora Seton

  She got out of the truck and shut the door behind her, the click sounding like a thunderclap in the quiet of the camp. Heading into the bunkhouse, she didn’t look to see if Curtis was following her. Of course he was. She hesitated near the door to the washroom. She had two choices; she could sleep in her clothing tonight, or she could ask Curtis to help her undo the things she couldn’t do herself.

  Under any other circumstances, she would’ve slept in her clothes. But like the women of Jane Austen’s time, she only had a few gowns. Avery had instructed her how to care for them when she arrived, and she was overly conscious of how expensive they were and how it was her duty to make sure they weren’t ruined.

  She took a breath and turned to Curtis. “I’m going to need your help. I can’t get out of these clothes by myself. Can you help me without taking advantage? Because this isn’t an invitation.”

  “I’ll be a gentleman,” Curtis promised her.

  He followed her into the bathroom, and so did the cameras. She wanted to protest, but she knew it was better for them to keep filming, to document that nothing happened between them. She turned her back to Curtis, and he began to undo the ties that held her dress together. When he had them undone, he took a step back. “There.”

  Samantha realize the next problem. He couldn’t reach her stays while she still had her dress on. She would have to take it off. After a long hesitation, she did so, and presented her back to Curtis again.

  “Jesus, my hands are shaking,” Curtis said a moment later. “Don’t know when the last time was that happened.”

  Samantha didn’t want to answer, but it seemed worse to let such a provocative statement hang between them like that. “Why are they shaking?” she asked reluctantly.

  “Because you’re so beautiful.”

  His fingers brushed her skin at the top of her stays as he began to undo the ties that held them tight. Samantha shivered involuntarily and told herself he had tickled her, that she wasn’t reacting to his touch.

  But she couldn’t deny how erotic it was to have a man undo her stays. In any other circumstances, this would be the prelude to something far more intimate. He stood so close, she could feel the brush of his breath on her neck. Curtis took his time, as if savoring the situation. Bit by bit, he undid the cords that bound the garment. As her stays loosened, so did her chemise, and its neckline lowered to display more of her cleavage. Looking in the bathroom mirror, she caught Curtis’s eye in the reflection. He was much taller than her. Standing so close behind her, he must have a terrific view of all her curves.

  When he had undone her stays, he peeled them off her in a gesture that was far too intimate for the circumstances. Samantha turned around to face him, and then realized her mistake. Her chemise was made of thin, delicate linen. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it, because Regency women didn’t wear bras. Her nipples were hard from the coolness of the evening, and she was afraid they were all too obvious beneath the thin fabric.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Curtis said again, and lifted his hands to undo the strings of her bonnet. Samantha knew she had to stop him, but somehow she couldn’t. This was all wrong, but the words she meant to say were strangled in her throat when he lifted the bonnet off her head, and in a quick movement she hadn’t anticipated, undid her chignon, sending her hair swinging down over her shoulders.

  “Beautiful.” Curtis leaned close.

  He wouldn’t kiss her. He couldn’t—

  Samantha held her breath as his mouth came within a fraction of an inch of hers. “Wait for me,” he breathed. “Don’t make up your mind until you know me. That’s all I’m asking, Samantha.” His lips almost brushed her ear. “We could be so good together.”

  Then he was gone from the room, leaving Samantha breathless, leaning against the sink for support. What was wrong with her? She wanted Harris, not Curtis. How had Curtis gotten under her skin?

  She looked up, noticed the cameramen still filming her and kicked the bathroom door closed in their faces.

  Chapter Ten

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  The shaft of the ax felt good in his hands, but even better was the burn of the muscles in his arms and shoulders. There was nothing as efficient for releasing anger as chopping wood. Harris stood in a clearing not too far from Base Camp, and set another chunk of wood on the stump he was using as a base. He swung his ax and cleaved the wood in two, tossing both parts into the pile that was growing a few feet away. It was early, but he had already been at work for two hours. He hadn’t slept a wink last night.

  Samantha and Curtis had come home late. Very late. He’d been exiting the door of his tent, having waited for them, when they climbed out of the truck, and both of them headed into the bunkhouse. They were in there a long, long time. Harris had held back, aware of the camera crew filming the proceedings. He knew if he burst into the building there would be a confrontation, and they would document it.

  When the bunkhouse door finally opened again, Curtis had come out alone, whistling. His hands had been jammed in his pockets, and there was no mistaking the bounce in his step.

  It was several more minutes before Samantha emerged, much more slowly. Even in the dim light, Harris could tell that her clothing was awry. The back of her dress was undone, and her silhouette was bulky, as if her stays were off. Had she let Curtis do the honors? Had the man gotten a good look at her curves?

  He told himself the cameras had been there with them the whole time. It’s not as if they could have done much of anything—let alone made love. But if Samantha was allowing Curtis to touch her, things had changed. Undressing was undressing, no matter how you sliced it.

  The thought of Curtis’s hands on her burned him, and Harris grabbed a new chunk of wood and swung the ax again. As hard as he worked, he couldn’t get the wayward thoughts out of his mind, though. He had to talk to her. He had to see if Curtis had changed her mind about him. Once again, he wondered how he could ever compete with the other man.

  The sun rose in the sky, and he knew it had to be breakfast time. Time to face the music. When he got back to camp, he would look at the way Samantha and Curtis positioned themselves, and he would know how things stood between them. As he approached the fire pit, he breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed Curtis chatting with some of the other men, and Samantha sitting and eating with the women. Nothing too momentous could’ve happened the night before, he told himself.

  But then Samantha looked up, caught Curtis’s eye and blushed.

  The rise of color in her cheeks stopped Harris in his tracks. He stood just beyond the circle of logs that surround the fire pit. Curtis must have felt his presence, because he turned and gave Harris an ironic salute. The burning bands of anger that had squeezed his chest earlier tightened again.

  Harris wasn’t sure how he got through the rest of the day. As usual, he made his way over to the Egans’ right after breakfast. But even Egan noticed his distraction, and gave him a good dressing down after lunch when he broke a piece of metal that he was working on by hammering too long after it had cooled down.

  At the end of a long, long day, he returned to Base Camp. Every instinct made him want to grab a plate of food and take it somewhere he could be by himself, but that was how Curtis would win. For once, he couldn’t use distance to avoid an uncomfortable situation. If he wanted Samantha—and he did want her—he needed to try something different. He took a seat next to Samantha on a log, but he was still struggling to figure out what to say when she spoke up.

  “Are we—? Are we going out tonight?”

  “Do you want to?” Harris growled. Damn it—he needed to keep his cool, but he kept picturing the way Curtis had left the bunkhouse whistling last night—and the way Sam had slunk out a few minutes later with her clothes all awry.

  “Of course I want to. If you do.” There was a question in her voice, and Harris hated that he got some satisfaction from it. Despite whatever gains Curtis had made last night, she still wanted to know if he cared about her. He stil
l had a chance, but he needed to make the most of it.

  Harris thought fast. What would really make an impression on Sam?

  She liked it when they connected. When they spoke about things that meant something.

  When he was real with her.

  Had Curtis ever been real with her? Or had he dished out a constant stream of engaging—but ultimately meaningless—conversation?

  Harris had definitely connected with her that first morning they were together. First with their words and then with their bodies. Something told him that despite what had happened last night, Curtis and Samantha hadn’t done either of those things.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked her to buy time.

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “How about… ice cream?”

  “Ice cream?”

  “Why not?” It didn’t matter where they went. Only what they said—and did.

  Sam nodded. “Ice cream it is.”

  They didn’t speak much on the way to town, but that was all right with Harris. Curtis was the big talker. When he reached over and took Sam’s hand, her fingers curled around his willingly, and the smile she sent his way made him relax.

  This was better. He had to stop reading so much into everything Curtis said and did. Sam kept telling him he was the one she wanted to be with.

  He couldn’t seem to make himself believe her.

  At the ice cream shop, they each ordered a cone, then sat on the hood of the truck to eat it. Just being with Sam was good enough for him, but he’d begun to worry again it might not be enough for her when she said, “I wish we could be alone.” She nodded at the cameras.

  “You sure about that?”

  Samantha turned toward him and licked her cone from bottom to top in a big swirl. “I’m absolutely sure about that.”

  Harris’s spirits soared, and more of his tension drained away, but he needed to be clear. “What would you do if we were alone?”

  Samantha gave her ice cream another long, sensuous lick, swallowed, opened wide, took most of the ice cream into her mouth and pulled the cone away, letting her lips slide over the creamy mound. “Get the picture?” she murmured.

  “Yes.” Harris took a moment to tamp down his rising libido. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d changed your mind about Curtis,” he admitted.

  “I haven’t changed my mind. I’m not going to.”

  She couldn’t be any clearer than that. Samantha held her cone in her right hand and her left braced against the hood of the truck. Harris switched his cone from his right to his left, and tangled the fingers of his free hand in hers. He hoped his touch conveyed everything he wanted her to know. How much he wanted to be with her. How much he hated having to wait.

  “Remember what you said?” she asked softly. “Any time?”

  Harris’s pulse jumped. “Yeah,” he said just as softly, not quite believing his ears.

  “Tonight. Please.”

  “You got it.” At this point, Harris was willing to risk everything. If she’d let him be with her tonight, he didn’t care what happened tomorrow. “Later,” he said. “First, we have to have a date.”

  They walked along Chance Creek’s main street, such as it was, window shopping in the few stores that made up the downtown, checking out restaurants they hadn’t tried yet, and commenting on the other people they saw. Harris touched her whenever he could get away with it—and she touched him, too, understanding the game without him having to explain it. He accidentally brushed her breast on the way to smoothing aside a tendril of her hair. She accidentally pressed up against him when stepping aside to let others pass on the sidewalk. They stopped in at the Dancing Boot for a beer and slow danced to a couple of fast numbers. Not too many, though; Harris knew much more of that and he would give himself away.

  He made sure it was past eleven o’clock before they headed back to Base Camp. They made a show of saying their good nights, and Harris made sure Win was around to help Samantha pretend to get ready for bed. He’d been half-hard all night and he ached to be with her. The next couple of hours would be long, but worth it.

  “One-thirty,” he whispered in her ear when he got the chance. “Keep to the shadows on the way to the creek. I’ll take a roundabout way and meet you there.”

  Then he went back to his tent and began the long, long wait.

  Samantha’s heart was pounding as she slowly undid the zipper of her tent and climbed outside. Win had helped her prepare for sleep, and while she’d pulled her gown back on, she’d left her stays, chemise and petticoats behind. She felt almost naked, despite the fact the gown fell to her ankles. It swirled around her feet as she tiptoed through the camp and down the track toward the creek. The distance between the camp and the water felt endless, but Sam nearly danced her way there. She couldn’t wait to feel Harris’s hands on her body. The touches they’d stolen all night had her dizzy with longing, and when she reached the flowing water and there was no one there to meet her, Sam bit back a frustrated groan.

  She pace the creek’s banks, and nearly screamed when Harris seemed to materialize from nowhere and took her arm. He didn’t speak, just drew her close and kissed her. Samantha lost herself in that kiss and all her worries faded away.

  Hungry for him, she returned his kisses with an intensity that surprised her. In the past she’d been a much more passive participant in these kinds of games. Now she was the one leading the way. Harris must have wanted her just as badly. He devoured her mouth with a passion that left her breathless—and aching for much more.

  “I want you inside me,” she gasped into his ear when he bent to slide a series of kisses down her throat. “Now, Harris; I want you in me now.”

  “Come on.” He led her a hundred yards or so into the woods, gathered up the skirts of her dress and tugged the whole garment up and over her head. It slid off easily and Samantha laughed to feel the brush of the cool night air on her skin as Harris tossed it aside.

  He held her at arm’s length with a grin and she knew he appreciated the fact she hadn’t been wearing anything under it. “Hell, you look good” was all he said. He pulled a blanket out of the rucksack he was carrying, spread it on the ground, got to work shucking off his clothes, and a moment later, Harris was as naked as she was. When they came together again, his desire for her was obvious and Sam twined her arms around his neck, wishing he was inside her already. But she could wait. Every touch of his hands on her skin sent tremors through her. She wasn’t sure when she’d ever felt so alive, and when they lay down and he gathered her in his arms, she knew she was right where she belonged.

  She didn’t need a big house or a room with a lock; she needed Harris. He would be her home, and she would be his. He began a thorough exploration of her body with his mouth that had all her senses reeling and her need for him setting her nerves alight. Sam surrendered to the experience, watching the stars play with the branches of the trees far overhead. Everywhere Harris touched her warmed under his attention, and anticipation swirled through her veins until she was clinging to him, begging him with her body for more. When neither of them could wait a moment longer, he reached to search through his jeans pocket, pulled out a condom and soon had it on. Covering her, he bent down for a thorough kiss, nudged open her thighs with his knees and positioned himself between them. Samantha let out a shaky breath that was almost a whimper. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You’re ready?”

  She nodded, digging her fingers into his shoulders, wanting him so badly she was trying to pull him in even as he moved into place.

  “Good.” He shifted above her and pushed inside, filling her with a slow, long stroke that drew an animal-like moan of pleasure from her throat.

  Nothing had ever felt so good. Sam realized she’d been ravenous for Harris, needing him to possess her.

  She moved her hips, and Harris took pity on her, beginning a rhythm of strokes that soon had her crooning with need. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her sensitive breasts pressed against his
hard chest, Samantha wanted more. She urged him on until he was plunging into her with strong, hard thrusts. Even then it wasn’t enough.

  Samantha ran her teeth over his shoulder, eliciting a groan from him. She liked the feeling of power that gave her and she did it again. Harris redoubled his efforts, one hand cradling her head, the other cupped under her bottom, increasing her pleasure every time he stroked into her.

  When he bent down and took one nipple into his mouth, Sam lost the battle; she came with a crash of heat and ecstasy that went on and on, finally leaving her stunned and breathless, panting for air as he continued until he came with a series of thrusts that pushed her over the top a second time. Harris cradled her while she cried out this second release and when she shuddered to a stop in his arms, all she could do was hold on, breathing hard, her mouth pressed against his neck. She wanted to stay like that forever. Wanted to be in his arms for all eternity; joined to him, nothing between them. Two hearts made one.

  After a long time, he carefully pulled out of her, but she didn’t let him go far, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

  She didn’t realize she was crying until Harris wiped her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just want to be with you. That’s all I want.”

  “It’s what I want, too, but we need to make sure no one figures out we were together. We can’t stay here long.”

  “I don’t care. You’re my husband. You are my husband… aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am.” He crushed her against him again. “All that bullshit Renata said about annulling our marriage? They wouldn’t go through the effort. We’re married. They can’t take that away.”

  She clung to him even more tightly. “Make love to me again. Make love to me all night. I need to know I’m yours. Please, Harris.”

  “Just for a little while.” He rolled over, pulled her on top of him, and she straddled his hips, anticipation building again for what would come next. Harris would fill her, move inside her—make love to her.