A SEAL’s Resolve

by Cora Seton

  “Yes. Go to bed. All of you. You’re driving me insane. I have to sleep so I look pretty for my wedding tomorrow.”

  Hope stifled her warning that there might not be a wedding tomorrow. Raina didn’t need to hear that again. Instead, she kissed the top of Raina’s head and made her way to the smaller bedroom.

  “Good night,” she said to Curtis. “And—thanks. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” He came closer, and for a moment she thought he’d kiss her again.

  She wanted him to.

  So badly.

  He didn’t. He simply nodded and turned to the pallet of blankets and comforters he was using to make a bed on the floor.

  Come sleep with me, she wanted to say but didn’t.

  Alone in her room, she wished for once she’d tossed her plans to the wind and followed her heart.

  He had to let her go, Curtis thought. It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. Hope deserved to live the life she wanted without his interference. She’d made contacts that would help her secure a job. She’d undertaken to get Raina to her wedding—mostly because she loved her friend but also to do a favor for a man who could help her along that road.

  And something had happened in her past to make her shy away from long-term commitments. If she was clear that she wasn’t able to have a relationship with him, he should thank her for her honesty.

  Not sit here scheming about how to change her mind.

  What he was feeling was just an infatuation, he told himself. It was an impulse honed by evolution to make sure the species survived. He hadn’t known Hope long enough to know he wanted to marry her for real. It had been nice to think so, given his circumstances, but chances were time would tell them they weren’t any more compatible than he and Michele had been.

  So why did it feel like they might be? Every time he saw the little things Hope did to make sure Raina was safe, happy, comfortable, he knew she was the kind of person he valued in the world. The kind of person who saw the web of interconnectedness shared by everything on earth. The kind of woman who tended that web.

  That was why she wanted to go to Yellowstone so badly, and he couldn’t blame her. Where else could someone work among the most beautiful scenery of the world and possibly influence the thinking of so many people?

  Visitors came to the park to be awed by the geysers and the grandeur of the scenery, but once there they were taught about food chains, the importance of predators, the way fire interacted with the landscape and the ways humans should—and shouldn’t—mess with that system. And so much more.

  Of course, she wanted to keep that dream. If he hadn’t committed to Base Camp, she easily could have persuaded him to come with her. He had committed to Base Camp, though, and he wasn’t a man to walk out on commitments.

  Which meant he had to let her go.

  Pain squeezed his heart, and something more—something too close to panic for comfort. He had to marry someone the day after tomorrow. Boone had promised him a backup bride, but he was still stuck out here in the snow. Still miles from where he was supposed to be.

  What if he didn’t make it?

  What if he didn’t marry?

  What if he ruined everything for everyone?

  He couldn’t stand it if that happened, but he wasn’t sure he could stand losing Hope, either. He wanted to hold her close. To be with her. Spend his days—and nights—with her. He’d tried to keep himself from envisioning the latter but had failed miserably, and his discomfort grew with every tantalizing imagined moment.

  “Oh my god, would you stop snoring?” Raina cried.

  “I’m not snoring.” Curtis propped himself up on his elbow, the better to see across the dimly lit room. He didn’t snore. And he hadn’t even been sleeping.

  “Yes, you are. You’re going to shake the whole house down. It’s my wedding tomorrow, Curtis. I need sleep.”

  “Sorry.” But he was sure he’d been awake.

  Raina sighed theatrically and rolled over to face him. He could see the whites of her eyes in the dim firelight. “Starting tomorrow there’s going to be a man in my bed every single day for the rest of my life. Do you think it’s selfish of me to want to spend one last night alone?”

  Hell. He wasn’t used to Raina making demands. Kind of rude ones at that. He slowly got to his feet, though. He didn’t know much about brides. Maybe she was having jitters. Maybe she was pissed that she’d have to hobble down the aisle rather than walk it.

  Maybe she was afraid she wouldn’t get there at all.

  “Not there, you idiot,” Raina said, shaking him from his thoughts. He’d just been about to open the door to Blake and Byron’s room.

  “Then where?” He was losing patience, fast. He needed sleep, too.

  “There!”

  He could barely make out her arm in the gloom. Was she pointing to Hope’s room?

  “I don’t think—”

  “Oh my god, you are so dumb! You need a wife, Curtis. Like… in the next forty-eight hours. Am I right, or am I right?”

  “You’re right.”

  “And you’re totally lusting after Hope.”

  Was it that obvious?

  “You told her you were going to marry her,” she pointed out.

  “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

  “Wishful wussing out, you mean. I didn’t think you were a quitter, Curtis Lloyd.”

  “I’m not, but—”

  “Get in there and make a play for my friend. She likes you, too. That’s obvious. And I don’t want to wait ten years for her to be married. I’m going to have kids next year. I want to do mommy things together. I want our girls to be best friends, just like we were. So get in there and make it happen!”

  “I’m not going to force my presence on someone who doesn’t want me.”

  “Then go ask if she wants you.”

  “She said she doesn’t want a relationship.”

  “Ask her to marry you.”

  Curtis winced. “What if she says no?”

  “Then you’ll sulk and moan and get over it. Get in there. Ask her. Make her love you, Curtis. Do it for me.” She clasped her hands together like an old-fashioned heroine.

  “I thought you’re going to live in Bozeman—”

  “We’ll see about that. Besides, Bozeman isn’t that far from Chance Creek.”

  That was true, and Curtis knew damn well that Hope and Raina were the kind of friends who shouldn’t be separated. He changed direction and made for the door of Hope’s smaller bedroom, telling himself he was doing it for Raina. It was a total lie. He wanted Hope badly, and he was running out of time. If he didn’t make a play for her now, he wouldn’t get another chance.

  Daisy stood up, yawned and followed him.

  Raina patted the couch cushion beside her. “Daisy? Stay.” The dog looked from her to Curtis questioningly.

  “Stay with Raina,” he instructed.

  He needed time alone with Hope.

  “Hope? You asleep?” someone asked.

  Hope turned quickly in bed and found her door open a crack. It unnerved her she hadn’t heard the handle turn, but there was no mistaking that deep voice.

  Curtis.

  “I’m awake.”

  He slipped inside the room and shut the door behind him, then crossed to sit on the edge of her bed. She pushed herself to a sitting position.

  “What’s wrong? Is it Raina?”

  “No—well, yes. She’s fine, but she says I snore. She kicked me out. Told me to come sleep in here.”

  Hope was going to kill her. She’d almost been asleep, after struggling to clear her mind of a series of salacious images of herself and Curtis in intimate position after intimate position. Now all those images came raging back.

  He was so close she could reach out and touch him.

  “She’s matchmaking,” she said.

  “Blatantly matchmaking,” he agreed with a chuckle.

  “It’s the marriage thing. She wants everyone a
round her coupled up.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  “I guess not.”

  “So, do you mind if I sleep in here? Contrary to your friend’s assertion, I don’t snore.”

  “I don’t mind.” Although she wouldn’t sleep a wink if he did.

  He began to lay blankets on the floor, and Hope curled up her knees and rested her chin on them. It was going to be cold down there. The floor was hard. There was no reason they couldn’t share a bed for one night.

  “Curtis—” She didn’t know how to go on. Would he think she was coming on to him? “I’m not going to have sex with you.”

  “Glad we cleared that up,” he said dryly.

  “I mean—you can sleep up here. With me. If you don’t touch me.” She patted the bed.

  In the dim light she saw the glint of his eyes as he turned to her. “You and me in a twin bed are going to touch, no matter what I do. You sure you want me in there?”

  “Yes. We’re both adults. It doesn’t have to mean anything—if we do touch.”

  He sighed, but he stopped messing around with the blankets on the floor. Instead, he peeled off the T-shirt he still wore, which left him in his boxers, she realized, and he lifted the blankets to climb in.

  “You need to sleep by the wall,” she told him, clambering out. “I get claustrophobic.”

  “Okay.” He got in, slid over and stretched out full length, then held up the bedclothes for her to climb in, too.

  Hope did, and he tucked the blankets around them both, brushing her arm as he did so.

  “Sorry. See? Touched you already,” he said.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “It was a pretty clear message.”

  Curtis took up most of the bed, and Hope found herself clinging to the edge of the mattress to stay on it. When he turned on his side behind her, she could feel the heat of him all along her body, even if he did try to keep a few inches’ distance between them.

  He was being silly. If he put his arm over her waist, they’d both fit so much better.

  She was the one who’d forbidden any touching, though.

  She let out a gusty breath and wriggled backward until she pressed along the length of him. That was better.

  “Hey, you’re breaking the rules,” he said, his voice tickling her ear.

  Now that they were this close, she wanted more. She reached back, grabbed his wrist and circled his arm around her waist. There, that was much better.

  “Lady, you are on very thin ice,” he warned.

  “Am I going to get a citation?” Somehow that sounded sexy. Why did that sound sexy?

  “You better believe it.” He pulled her in closer and kissed her neck. Hope closed her eyes. The touch of him was heavenly. Her entire body was drinking in his proximity, energized by it.

  God, she wanted him.

  Would that be wrong? she wondered. To touch him? To turn over and kiss him? To invite him to—

  “Hope Martin, I want you,” Curtis breathed. “I want you so bad.”

  Her pulse leaped.

  This wasn’t in her plans.

  This wasn’t sensible—or correct—or anything. But she wanted him, too.

  Hope turned over, wrapped a leg around his waist, twisted her fingers in his short, dark hair and kissed him like she meant it.

  “I want you, too.”

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  Curtis stifled a groan. Hope was going to kill him if she kept up like this. He’d climbed into her bed telling himself he’d be a gentleman and appreciate being close to her, but that was all. Hadn’t he just wrestled his conscience to the ground out in the living room and told himself to let her go?

  He couldn’t be a gentleman when she was wrapped around him, her curvy, wonderful body warm from the heavy covers on the bed.

  “Hope,” he groaned.

  “Don’t think. Make your mind a blank,” she told him. “That’s what I’m doing.”

  He couldn’t argue with that, even when a sensible voice in his head told him he was sure to regret it in the morning—when he had to deliver Hope and Raina to Bozeman and walk away.

  He’d regret it more if he didn’t have this one night with her, he told that voice. Something to cling to when he went and married whoever Boone had chosen for him. He pushed all thought of Boone and backup brides out of his mind, focused on Hope—and the way she was making him feel.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he growled into her neck. He slid his hands toward the hem of her tank top but got distracted when he palmed her breasts through the thin fabric of her top, and she moaned again, arching back, the better to give him access.

  Curtis tugged the garment up and over her head, ripping the neckline a little.

  “Sorry.”

  “Not sorry,” she breathed back and let out a shaky breath when he covered her breasts with his hands again. “Curtis—that feels so good.”

  Up on one elbow, Hope on her back, he leaned over her, dipped his head and took one of her hard nipples into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, teasing the nub until she arched again.

  He could play with her breasts all day. Soft handfuls of loveliness that revved him up and made his body come alive when he touched them. Curtis couldn’t get enough—

  But he wanted to explore every part of her.

  Hope shimmied out of her panties, and he shucked off his boxers. “Should we slow down?” he asked. “Check your planner to make sure sex is on the schedule for tonight?”

  “Hell, no. I want this. I want to feel you—”

  He knew what she meant. He couldn’t stop skimming his hands over her curves, loving the dip between her breasts and hips, the feel of her ass.

  Curtis rolled over onto his back and brought her with him to straddle him. The heat of her perched over his erection made him throb with want, but before they went further, he wanted to look at her.

  In the low light she was a goddess, her heavy breasts and wide hips a wonder of nature. Curtis settled her firmly on him. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked her, somehow knowing she didn’t. Most women didn’t.

  That was a crime.

  Hope shrugged.

  That wasn’t good enough for Curtis. “Say it,” he commanded her, rocking his hips a little, just to feel her on top of him.

  “Say what?”

  “Say you’re beautiful.”

  “Curtis—”

  “Do it.”

  “I’m beautiful.” She leaned forward and shook her head. “Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

  “It isn’t stupid. It’s true, and you should know it down to the very heart of you. Hope, you are something special.” He skimmed his hands up her body. The flare of her hips gave way to the curve of her waist and then the exquisite bloom of her breasts. Why didn’t women play with themselves all day? There was so much to appreciate.

  “I’m beautiful,” she said again, leaning farther forward to tempt him with her nipples.

  It worked. Curtis gave them their due, nuzzling them and teasing them until he knew Hope was as desperate as he was to get even closer.

  “Protection?” he asked, hoping against hope they were good. It wasn’t like he was carrying a condom.

  “I’m on the Pill,” she affirmed. “I’m good.”

  “Me, too.”

  He couldn’t wait anymore. Seizing her hips, he lifted her and positioned himself beneath her. As he nudged against her, the warmth of her inner folds caressing the tip of him required him to exert every ounce of control he had. She slid down around him effortlessly, wet enough to welcome him inside in one slick swoop. Curtis’s breath went ragged.

  This was heaven.

  This was everything he wanted.

  He began to move.

  Hope clung to Curtis’s shoulders, allowing him to set the pace, loving every sensation he was creating inside her, acknowledging how right it felt to take him inside.

  She’d never known this k
ind of desire. Had never found it this easy to become this intimate with a man. It was as if her body had always known his, that it was welcoming him home, not inviting him in for the first time.

  She loved this. Loved connecting with Curtis, feeling him, encircling him, taking him in.

  She loved feeling this womanly, knowing her breasts made his heart beat harder, knowing that every way they touched was driving him closer to losing control.

  Hope didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want this to ever end.

  This room. This night—were everything.

  She closed her eyes and rocked with him, and as he sped up inside her, she opened to him, allowing him deep, giving up control, letting him move her, position her, make love to her.

  He imprisoned her wrists behind her, and the angle increased her pleasure even more. She arched her back, spread her thighs and settled more firmly on his hips.

  A sound escaped him, and she knew Curtis was close. Hope tilted back her head, sent her consciousness deep inside, wanting to feel every last sensation.

  She came with a cry that tore from her throat as if it had a life of its own, and pleasure pulsed along with every thrust Curtis made inside her. He followed suit, grunting with the energy of his thrusts, his orgasm taking her into another wave of release. Sensation crashed through her, shaking her body, wringing her dry of feeling until she collapsed on top of him, breathing as hard as if she’d run a race.

  Curtis gathered her to him, whispered something into her hair and kissed her forehead. Hope listened to the strong, regular beat of his heart. This was a man to reckon with. A man who made her feel things no one else ever had.

  Could she really walk away from him tomorrow?

  Hope didn’t know.

  It was a long time before Curtis spoke, and she didn’t want to break the spell, either. His body pressed against hers still felt wonderful, as did the lazy strokes of his hand over her skin.

  The real world was already intruding, though. Hope wondered if everyone in the cabin had heard her cry and known what she and Curtis were doing. She wondered what it would be like tomorrow morning when it was time to get up.