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Redeeming The Billionaire Seal
Lauren Canan


Can a billionaire SEAL find love in the arms of a hometown girl?When navy SEAL Chance Masters returns to his Texas ranch, he can’t wait for his next assignment. Civilian life doesn’t suit him anymore. But then he runs into Holly Anderson. The young girl he remembers is all grown up and raising her baby niece.Soon Chance gets close to Holly and the child—too close. The situation sends up red flags; it feels like family. After what he’s seen in the line of duty, Chance can’t let himself get attached. But will Holly teach him that you can come home again?









How she wanted to kiss him. Right here. Right now. Right or wrong.


She couldn’t think of a better place for something she’d waited a lifetime to do. Moving closer to him, her focus dropped to his mouth.

“Holly.” He shook his head.

“What?”

“This is not a good idea.” His voice was rough.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But her focus remained on his lips, which had haunted her for over a decade, now a mere breath away.

“Yeah. You do.” But despite his hesitation, he reached up and smoothed some strands of her hair back from her face. He caught her hair in his fist and gently pulled her toward him. His mouth touched hers, gently, tentatively … But then he drew back, making her heart cry out. He watched her, carefully, intently.

“It’s just a kiss,” she whispered. She could hear the pleading in her own voice.

“We both know it’s a hell of a lot more than that.”

* * *

Redeeming the Billionaire SEAL is part of Mills & Boon Desire’s No 1 bestselling series, Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men … wrapped around their babies’ little fingers




Redeeming the Billionaire SEAL

Lauren Canan







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


LAUREN CANAN has always been in love with love. When she began writing, stories of romance and unbridled passion flowed through her fingers onto the page. Today she is a multi-award-winning author, including the prestigious Romance Writers of America Golden Heart


Award. She lives in Texas with her own real-life hero, four dogs and a mouthy parrot named Bird.

She loves to hear from readers. Find her on Facebook or go to her website, www.laurencanan.com (http://www.laurencanan.com).


This book is dedicated to Laurel Hamrick for the endless support and the many hours she gave so willingly. And to Kathleen for her patience and determination to make this story the best it can be. And to my closest friends (you know who you are!) who provided so much support when it was needed the most.


Contents

Cover (#u611503f8-df9e-5e33-bfd1-da3bf7d5e345)

Introduction (#ua5413747-209a-5dcc-a9c4-e593a5420b1a)

Title Page (#ube412623-2c04-54d8-b162-5dcea5be45e8)

About the Author (#uef49207d-9246-5481-8d2c-ee7a30f40bf9)

Dedication (#u360a6c04-de69-5e9d-b02b-a41c881365cf)

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Epilogue

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#u0d5f7d82-7e58-55cb-894b-9a52f04ad873)

Watching a newborn foal rise to its feet for the first time was a sight Holly Anderson would never tire of seeing. With a few staggered steps and some encouragement from its mother, the foal located its dinner bucket and didn’t have to be shown how to latch on to her first meal. The fluffy little tail flipped and turned as the warm nourishment filled her tummy.

“I thought we were going to lose this one,” said Don Jefferies, owner of the mare that had just given birth with considerable help from Holly. “I’ve been raising quarter horses most of my life and I guess I’ve been lucky. I’ve never had to deal with a breech birth.”

“They don’t happen that often,” Holly agreed. “Thank goodness.”

“I can’t say how much I appreciate you, Doc.”

“Glad I could help.” Holly took one last glimpse at the foal before stepping out into the hallway as Don closed the stall door behind her. She began gathering her implements, then walked to the truck and dumped them into a white bucket filled with a special cleaning solution. “I should come back out and check them both in two or three days. I’ll need someone here to contain Mother. She’s probably not going to like having her baby kidnapped for a few minutes.”

“No worries. I’ll call your office tomorrow, schedule a time and make sure someone is around to help if I can’t be here myself.”

With a final handshake, Holly tossed the last of her gear in the holding compartment in the back of her truck, climbed in behind the wheel and headed back to the clinic. The sun had set and twilight was quickly folding into night.

She’d finished scouring the equipment and was rinsing her hands when the little bell over the front door chimed. Someone had entered the building. She must have forgotten to put up the closed sign again. It had been a twelve-hour day with an emergency wake-up call at seven thirty this morning, and her body was screaming for a long hot soak in the old claw-foot tub.

Drying her hands on a paper towel, she made her way through the back of the clinic, rounded the corner and stopped at the edge of the front counter. She had already turned off the overhead lights but the glow from the lab area provided some illumination. Two men stood just inside the door of the small waiting room. She immediately recognized Cole Masters, one of the three owners of the ninety-two-thousand-acre beef operation across the road. She’d grown up with the three Masters sons; her aunt’s small house, where she lived now, was just across the road from their mansion on the hill. Although they were several years older, that hadn’t stopped any of them from forming a lifelong bond of friendship that was more like extended family.

As to the identity of the man who stood next to Cole, she had no clue. He must be a business associate out for the weekend. Cole and his brother Wade randomly brought people to the Circle M for a leisurely weekend in the country with horseback rides and cookouts over a campfire—by an accredited chef. Why anyone would need a professional chef to cook a hot dog over a grill was beyond her realm of understanding. To each his own, she supposed.

She didn’t sense any type of tension indicating an emergency. Cole just stood there with a stupid grin on his face. It was late. She was tired. And she needed to get home to the baby so Amanda, her friend and temporary babysitter, could go home. Whatever he was up to, she needed him to pull the prank and be done with it.

“Hey, Cole,” she said. He nodded. “Did you forget your way home again?”

“Ha. Ha.”

“How can I help you?”

“I wanted to pick up the antibiotics for the sorrel mare that cut her foot. Caleb intended to get them but something else came up. I told him I would stop by if you were still open.”

“Right. I’d forgotten. They’re in the fridge. Be right back.”

She slipped into the main room of the clinic, grabbed the drugs out of the refrigerator along with a few syringes, dropped them all in a plastic ziplock and returned to the front. “Here you go. Caleb knows what to do but if he has any questions, tell him to call.”

“Sure thing.”

Cole stood in the same place, making no effort to move.

“Was there something else?”

Cole glanced over to the other man next to him, then back to Holly.

Holly bent slightly forward and held out her hands, palms up, a silent way of asking, What do you want? “It’s a little late for charades. I’m sorry, but I’ve had a really long day. How about you skip the theatrics and just tell me what you need?” She glanced at the other man. “I apologize. He gets this way sometimes.”

The man shrugged, pursing his lips as though finding the situation funny. Cole’s grin grew wider. “Ah, man...this is too good,” Cole muttered to his friend. “We should have brought Wade.”

Holly didn’t know what to make of that statement. What was too good?

“Okay.” She patted the counter. “You both have a good evening. If you don’t mind, lock the door on your way out.” She turned to leave, headed for the rear entrance and made it all of three steps.

“Why do you have to leave so soon, Muppet?”

Holly froze. Her heart did a tiny dance in her chest. That voice, deep and raspy. That name. Only one person called her Muppet. But it couldn’t be. Could it? Holly turned as the big man with wide shoulders walked toward her, removing the Western hat that had been pulled low over his eyes. In one blinding flash the past twelve years vanished and she was looking into the eyes of her best friend.

She should have known him even if she hadn’t seen his face. It was the way he moved, silently, with the grace of a cougar. It was how he held himself, feet apart, broad shoulders back, big hands at his side, ready to handle any potential threat that came his way by any means necessary.

He had a ruggedly handsome face, with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw that stood out despite a five-o’clock shadow. His hair was the same dark saddle-brown color as his brothers’ but instead of a suave businessman’s cut, it was shaggy, disheveled—which capped off his devilish, sexy looks. His appearance had once driven most of the county’s female population crazy. The Roman nose would have given him the distinction of royalty had it not been broken due to his preference of football in his youth and no doubt some hard-fought battles on enemy lines. The cleft in his chin completed the image.

Holly knew those full lips were punctuated by dimples on either side and hid strong white teeth. It was the kind of smile you waited for. Hoped for. And when it finally came it was more than worth the wait. But it was the crystal blue of his eyes that conveyed the true power of his persona. It was as though they were lit from inside. His gaze could be as daunting as a thief at your window on a moonless night, as hypnotizing as a cobra, as erotic as two lovers in the throes of passion or, like now, it could sparkle with humor. She’d once wondered if he even noticed the second glances from people he passed on the street. Or was he so accustomed to people taking another look that he no longer paid any attention?

He was dressed in desert fatigues and a light brown T-shirt, which showed the chiseled muscles of his arms and chest to full effect. There was a black-banded watch that had more dials than an Apollo spacecraft on his tanned wrist.

In front of her stood a warrior. A US Navy SEAL.

Chance Masters had come home.

“Chance,” she whispered. She reached her hand out to him, needing to prove to herself he was really here. He caught her smaller hand in his, placed it firmly against his chest and held it there. She felt his heartbeat, steady and sure, beneath the thin material of his shirt.

Tears stung her eyes and she blinked rapidly, trying to prevent them from falling while she scrambled to gain control of her emotions. He’d been her best friend, her first crush and her first heartbreak when he’d left for the navy. The entire community had felt his absence. Some, mostly the women, had been saddened by the void his leaving created, while others, primarily the parents, had breathed a sigh of relief that he was gone. But his leaving had affected everyone in one way or another for three counties around. Her older brother had once told her he wished he had a nickel for every woman Chance turned down.

She stepped into his arms, her hands encircling his lean body while he held her close and let her cry. Hot, raw vitality surrounded her, causing her senses to ignite in a fire that swept through her. After a few moments, she stepped back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She sniffed and with a quick movement tossed the strands of hair that had come loose from her braid away from her face, determined to regain some measure of control. She pulled in one shaky cleansing breath, placed her hands on her hips and jutted out her chin with purpose. “Commander? It’s about damn time you came home.”

That earned her a smile. He looked down, shaking his head.

“I was about to say you’ve changed, Muppet. But maybe not,” he said teasingly, his voice deeper than she remembered. “But no braces. No pigtails. And you seem a bit taller.”

Holly smiled. “You think?”

She’d been barely twelve when he’d joined the military immediately after graduating high school, so yeah, in twelve years there had been changes. But all the change wasn’t on her side. She was intensely aware of the pure animal magnetism oozing from every pore in his body; he was an alpha male in every sense of the phrase. A jolt of awareness shot through her veins, pooling in her belly, making the temperature of the room rise fifteen degrees. At least.

Gone was the swaggering teenager with an easy smile and a reputation for knowing where to find trouble, the cocky guy who was too smart for his own good. He’d been replaced by a man who had seen the world through different eyes, used his above-average intelligence for things that mattered and trained to hold his emotions carefully in check. It was all there in his face. He oozed self-confidence; his nearness and the underlying power of his physique made her intensely aware of his utter masculinity.

Easily six foot four of hard muscle, he was more dangerous than she would ever have guessed a dozen years ago. She could see small glimpses of the old Chance beneath the hard exterior but it was as though the Chance of yesterday had faded away, leaving only minute traces behind. He’d finally made peace with whatever demons had been haunting him all those years ago, making him everyone’s number one nightmare. But she could tell the impatience and restless energy were gone, held tightly in check by the powerful man he had become.

“I’m so sorry about your dad.” Her glance swung to Cole, including him in that statement.

“Thanks,” Cole replied.

Her eyes returned to Chance. “He was so proud of you. We all are.”

Chance nodded, for the most part letting the comment slide. Holly remembered there had been rumors of discord between Chance and his dad. She hadn’t known Mr. Masters very well. He was rarely at the ranch. She remembered her brother once confiding that according to Chance, the man wasn’t proud of anything money couldn’t buy, except more money, adding he hoped when his old man died he could manage to take some of it with him because he’d never cared about anything else.

Holly stood next to Cole as Chance walked around the clinic noting the instruments, X-ray machines and microscopes. Two additional rooms were fully set up to conduct a surgical operation, and there was a separate smaller space for patients recovering from surgery. The kennel area for boarding was at the end of the hall, clearly marked by a sign on the closed door. “This is nice, Holly,” he said, glancing around. “Calico Springs has needed a vet for a long time. You always said you were going to get your license and build a clinic. You’re the one who should be proud.”

“I had a lot of help. Kevin Grady is co-owner. I couldn’t have pulled this off without him. He is a licensed vet who has wanted his own clinic for years. It worked out that I had the building, and in exchange for the use of, I could work under his supervision for my last two years of clinical instruction—the hands-on experience diagnosing and treating. And your brothers helped a lot with a loan for the equipment. But yeah, I’m glad it worked out. The hours are long, the work is hard at times, but it’s fulfilling.”

His eyes found hers. “I couldn’t have said it better.” A silent understanding passed between them. Chance felt the same way about the life he’d chosen.

His expression turned serious. “I’m sorry about Jason,” he said, referring to Holly’s older brother, who’d been killed in Iraq. “He was a great guy.”

She nodded and glanced down, suddenly uncomfortable. “There are some days I forget he’s gone. I’ll pick up the phone to call him then realize...he isn’t there.”

Chance and Jason had been best friends since fourth grade when Chance’s mother had finally won the battle for her sons to grow up in a normal environment, pulled them out of boarding school and enrolled them in the local public school. The two had hit it off immediately and remained best friends until the day Jason died. Holly imagined when Chance received the news that Jason had been killed it had been hard for him to take. Chance was closer to Jason than his own brothers.

“Listen, you’re tired. I’ll be here a while. We’re gonna head out but I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Chance nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And you...” Holly pointed at Cole. “You are so mean for not telling me Chance was home.” She scooted over to give him a sisterly hug. “But I guess we love you anyway.”

He just chuckled. With one last look at Holly, Chance followed Cole out the door.

Rather than drive, Holly took the footpath that extended from the clinic through the trees, over an old wooden footbridge that spanned Otter Creek and on a few yards farther to her small house. Chance is really home. He’d made it through how many deployments? She could only imagine. And he looked good. Better than good. It had been so many years. What had he done all that time? Fight wars? Dodge bullets? Probably accomplished feats that even if he could talk about them, she wouldn’t fully comprehend. Things she was no doubt better off not knowing.

She picked up her pace. Amanda Stiller, her good friend for many years and her temporary babysitter, might be anxious to go to her own home unless she’d become engrossed in something on television. At fourteen months, baby Emma could be a handful, and Holly was anxious to relieve Amanda.

But Amanda was a TV junkie and Holly had a satellite dish with some three hundred channels to keep Amanda occupied, so it was a good arrangement. Amanda often preferred to crash on her sofa instead of making the drive into town, especially now that she was in between jobs. She was an RN specializing in surgical care, and the local hospital had been forced to lay off half of its medical staff, but assurances had been given they would be recalled as soon as budget demands were met. Amanda saw it as an opportunity to catch up on her second job: being a couch potato.

Holly stepped through the back door and heard the sound of one of Amanda’s favorite shows. The background music foretold something bad was about to happen. Seconds later there was a gunshot. A woman screamed and another began to sob. This was Friday night. So that meant Amanda was watching You Can’t Hide. Good grief.

“Who died?” Holly asked as she dropped her bag into a chair.

“That old witch, Ms. Latham. She got shot.”

“Again? Are you sure it isn’t a rerun?”

“It’s not.”

“I wonder who did it this time.” Holly tried to contain the sarcasm. The fictional character had been shot, stabbed, choked and drowned more times than Holly could count and she didn’t regularly watch the show. Amanda and half the town were more than willing to bring her up to speed on who had done what, then ask if she had a guess who was behind it.

“I’m betting John because he wants to marry her daughter and the old biddy had it out for him. I mean, whoever pulled the trigger, she had it coming. She was up to something. I could tell. If somebody didn’t shoot her, she’d have really hurt John sooner or later.”

Holly clamped her mouth shut and headed for the kitchen. Amanda got so caught up in her soaps that she talked about the characters as though she’d just watched the evening news. Dear old Ms. Latham would be back in one form or another. Just today, the owner of one of Holly’s patients had remarked that the actress who played the crotchety old biddy had signed a contract for another year. But Holly wouldn’t spoil it for Amanda.

“Are you staying over?”

“Yeah. This sofa is way softer than my bed at home. And I still don’t have cable or satellite. All I can get is the local news and weather, and nothing exciting ever happens around here.”

“You do know there are stores that are only too happy to sign you up for three hundred plus channels?”

Amanda shrugged. “I’d rather be out here with you guys than sitting in that apartment alone. David won’t be back for another month. Oh. Almost forgot. I promised Emma we would go see the kites tomorrow.”

“Out at the lake?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d forgotten it was this weekend. That should be fun. She’ll enjoy it. It’s my Saturday to work but it’s only half a day.” Holly looked over the counter into the den. “Amanda, you don’t have to go to the park. You do so much for us anyway.”

“Please. I want to or I wouldn’t do it.”

“Thank you. I’ll close the clinic and get out there as soon as I can.”

The commercial ended and Amanda turned back to her program. Holly made herself a pimento-and-cheese sandwich before heading for the baby’s room, eating as she went. Emma was asleep on her back, her little arms splayed out on either side of her head. The silver-blond curls surrounded her face like a halo. She bent over the bed and placed a kiss on the small forehead.

Regret again filled her heart that Emma would never know her mother or father. Jason would have made a terrific dad. She hoped the pictures she had of her brother and the few she’d obtained of his wife would help Emma relate to them when she was older.

Every minute she was forced to leave the baby in someone’s care, guilt hit hard and heavy. Often on the days she worked in the clinic, Emma stayed with her, either behind the counter or in the small office just off the lab, in her playpen. But on those days of ranch calls, like today, even knowing Amanda was taking care of her didn’t help reduce Holly’s self-reproach.

Jason, her brother, had been killed two years ago in Iraq when an underground IED exploded, taking out his patrol vehicle and everyone on board. His death had brought on their father’s fatal heart attack. Four months later Jason’s wife died giving birth to Emma, making the baby an orphan before she ever opened her eyes. Now all they had was each other. Emma was safe and protected, and until the baby was grown and could make her own life choices, Holly would do everything in her power to ensure it stayed that way.

She switched on the little night-light in the corner of the room and set her sights on the bathroom and a long hot soak in the tub. After undressing and filling the tub, she turned off the tap, settled back into the hot water and let her mind drift. It immediately went to Chance. He’d changed, but then didn’t everybody in twelve years? Cole had told her a couple of months ago that Chance had been wounded during a mission. She’d felt her blood turn cold as the shocking news had set in. No further information had been forthcoming, and all Holly could do was cling to the old belief that no news was good news. When Chance hadn’t appeared at his dad’s funeral, she’d just known something horrible had happened. She’d carried that fear for days, refusing to bother Cole or Wade during their time of grieving. If they got any news—good or bad—surely they would tell her. Then tonight when Chance walked into the clinic, the relief had been so overwhelming all she had been able to do was hold on to him and sob like a baby. He must’ve thought she’d turned into a total and complete dork.

Bath over, she pulled on an old blue T-shirt, checked on Emma once more and fell into bed. She smiled in the darkness. Chance had finally come home. That thought ran through her mind over and over again as though daring her to believe it. She’d almost reconciled herself to the idea he might never return. In a way, he hadn’t. At least not the old Chance she’d known all her life. When she’d hugged him, it was like hugging a warm pillar of marble. The small scar on his jaw added to his intensity. There was a fierceness in his eyes. His face denoted wisdom far beyond his years. Cole had once mentioned Chance was thriving in the navy, moving up in rank much more quickly than others. Once he set his mind to do it, she wasn’t surprised.

The rabble-rouser he’d been in his youth, the solitary bad boy, had been reshaped into a soldier: the best this country had to offer. He was big and dangerous and no doubt very capable. But while they may have redirected his spirit, no one would ever control it. It was that streak of wildness that made him who he was. His brothers didn’t have it. Just as their brown eyes would never be a hot icy-blue like Chance’s, their spirit would also never rival his. Chance had always been different, always found his own road. He’d found his place in life, a place he was meant to be. Unfortunately, it required him to put his life on the line each and every day, and that was something Holly wouldn’t let herself think about.

For the first time, she knew why the older girls had gone a little crazy those dozen or so years ago. It was not something Chance did purposely. It was just part of who he was. It was in his stride, his voice, his touch—in the way he presented himself. It was the way he looked at a woman, making her very much aware of her own femininity and what he could do with it.

Just being in his presence for a few amazing moments, she’d felt that silent challenge to come to him. If she did, instinct told her she would never be the same again. Before, she’d been a child and sexual attraction wasn’t even in the picture. Chance had seen her as a little sister. Now, as an adult, the look of male want in his eyes reinforced the fact that she was a woman in every sense of the word and he knew it. And her body had responded accordingly.

With a moan she rolled over onto her side. Despite the years of dreaming he would someday come back and she would be the one in his life, she couldn’t imagine this was her wish coming true. Reality had long since become her guide. Chance was home because he’d been wounded and needed a place to recuperate. Then he would once again be gone. Twelve years and her life had gone on. She needed to let go of the little-girl fantasies. The world had changed and so had they. It was sad in a way, but the happy memories from her childhood, made even better with the passage of time, would always remain close to her heart.

She couldn’t help but wonder if Chance would still enjoy working with new colts and riding out to check the fences or rounding up the calves for annual inoculations and electronic branding. Horses used to be his passion. More than likely he hadn’t had that opportunity in a long while.

He had also loved the river that ran for miles through the ranch land. Before Emma, she would often ride out to the place he loved the most, sit on the boulder that jutted out over the rushing water and try to imagine where he was and what he was doing. As the years rolled past, like fallen leaves carried out of sight by the waters in the stream, she’d had to accept she might never see Chance Masters again.

But he was here. She would see him. Tomorrow. She wouldn’t think any further into the future than that. She absolutely would not, on the day of his arrival, consider how hard it would be when he left yet again. He is here. She could touch him, talk to him face-to-face and have an opportunity to make some new memories.

She had to wonder how he was doing up in the big house. Suddenly being thrust into the lap of luxury probably wasn’t comfortable to him. While some dreamed of having even a tenth of the wealth of the Masters family, Chance had always shrugged it off, never wanting to talk about it. Holly imagined that the living accommodations he’d had for the past few years were vastly different from the mansion. Was he sleeping? Was the fact he was at the ranch making him restless? Or maybe he normally kept different hours, awake at night and asleep during the day.

If she didn’t get to sleep pretty soon, she might go down to the barn. Anything beat tossing and turning in this bed. And if Chance Masters couldn’t sleep, the barn was where he would be.


Two (#u0d5f7d82-7e58-55cb-894b-9a52f04ad873)

“I’m not saying you have to leave the SEALs and transition into the corporation,” Wade defended himself. “I’m just saying I think that’s what Dad would have wanted.”

How in hell could Chance argue about something neither he nor his older brother could prove or deny? His father had said nothing about time frames the day he’d told Chance he was washing his hands of his youngest son and his outrageous behavior. He’d strongly suggested Chance join a branch of the military before he ended up in prison. So he’d enlisted in the SEAL program. He very much doubted his dad cared if he ever laid eyes on his youngest son again—and he never did—let alone expected him to slide into an executive position in the billion-dollar conglomerate upon his death. Apparently Wade hadn’t been told everything that had gone down that day in their father’s office. And tonight at least, Chance wasn’t about to enlighten him.

Wade had taken to the role of CEO in the corporation as easily as downing the first cold beer after working the cattle chutes on a hundred-and-ten-degree day. As chief financial officer, Cole had pretty much had the same experience. But corporate America had never appealed to Chance. Not when he was younger. And damn sure not now.

“It’s always been a family business,” Wade continued. “When his brother died, Dad carried on by himself. And he did pretty damn good. I think it was always his intention that his sons would join him.”

The kitchen staff entered to remove the empty dinner plates, inquire about dessert and offer more coffee. Chance nodded and pushed the twenty-two-carat gold-rimmed cup toward the man standing to his left. He knew the family saga. He didn’t have to hear it again. It was painfully ironic to him that their dad had devoted his entire life to building a dynasty for a family he’d all but ignored for the sake of building it. Wade could call it what he wanted, but that was screwed up. And from what Chance could see, Wade was going to be just like their father. He just hadn’t as yet met a woman who would put up with it. It was a bit disconcerting to think of the type of woman who would.

“Why don’t you take a day and fly into Dallas with us while you’re here.” It didn’t sound like a request to Chance, but he let it go. “Take a look at some facts and figures and get an idea of what Masters Corporation, Ltd., is about. What we do. What we are trying to achieve.”

Wade seemed impervious to the fact that Chance already had a company. It was the US Navy. And for the life of him, Chance didn’t know how to get that across without an out-and-out clash that might leave one, or both, wounded inside. Now was definitely not the time to go there.

“No problem,” Chance agreed and stood up from his chair, ready to get out of this room and check out something that did interest him: the ranch. “Name the day and let’s do it.”

It wasn’t that he had no concern or curiosity for the business. He would be glad to have an inside look at what had provided income for all the Masterses exceedingly well for three generations. He just doubted he was ready to put down his weapon and pick up a pen and a calculator. Still, he owed Wade enough to let him have bragging rights. Wade had always been there for him so a trip into Dallas was the least Chance could do.

Wade reached out, offering Chance his hand, which he readily accepted. “It’s good to have you back, little brother. Don’t think too badly of me for wanting to keep you around a little longer.”

“Oh, I absolutely understand. You’re still ticked off that you never could beat me in a game of chess.”

Wade’s smile was immediate. “Something I intend to change.”

“Yeah? Good luck with that.”

Wade laughed and Chance took the opportunity to leave on a high note. He’d known this visit would be hard. He just hadn’t realized he’d be drawn into such a nettle-filled quagmire. His emotions about his father dying were screwing with his head; he wasn’t sure if he should feel saddened or relieved. Wade was determined to make him part of the corporation, pushing him to leave the military. And heaven help him when he was near Holly. His body had hardened just saying hello to her earlier in the clinic. He was mentally at war between wanting to know this very sexy, beautiful young woman a lot better and staying well clear of his best friend’s little sister. It hadn’t been a full twenty-four hours since he’d arrived at the ranch and already she had him in knots.

It was dark when Chance ventured outside. The fresh night air felt good. He inhaled the scents of pine and freshly cut alfalfa. He was determined to not give in to the stiffness in his knee where the surgeons had removed a bullet and tried their best to repair bone fragments and torn ligaments. He’d never made it through a full thirty-day leave without being called in early for immediate deployment. But this time, he knew that was not going to happen. He rubbed his left arm, hoping it might relieve the dull pain that lingered from the injury to his shoulder. The last mission had taken out two of his men and left him with a couple of brass .45-caliber souvenirs. The first bullet had missed his heart by millimeters, so it could have been a hell of a lot worse. But the rounds from the AK-47 had still managed to do enough damage to kick his butt and put him in the hospital for a few weeks. The round that blew out his knee had been the real zinger. That was the injury that could change his life.

The attending doctor hadn’t been convinced Chance could get back to 100 percent. For the missions Chance was trained to do, it was crucial. The doc had been up-front with him. Further medical evaluation was warranted and he was sending the case to the medical evaluation board for review. A soldier might be physically able to return to a full life as a civilian, but the injuries could prevent him from performing his duties, especially the duties of a SEAL.

Chance had been told straight up this might result in a medical discharge, something he was not willing to even think about. What in the hell would he do if that should happen? The issue was not about money, but the way he lived his life. He’d found his place. Hell, he’d made his place, worked harder than most men to attain it. He wasn’t ready to step down to a trainer position or become a desk jockey, but at least he would have those options. Hopefully.

He was grateful for the time he had here with his family. He loved his brothers and he didn’t want to cause any hard feelings. If that should happen he would carry the regret with him a long time. But their roads had gone in different directions. He respected what they had accomplished. He hoped they would do the same.

He spotted a dull light on the next rise that seemed to flicker behind the branches of the trees as they caught the evening breeze. The main barn. As schoolkids, he and Jason had spent hours in there, grooming and cleaning tack—not because they had to but because they’d both enjoyed it. Holly was usually tagging along or hanging out with them. Busy hands provided a good environment to talk. When they weren’t in the barn they were in the saddle, riding the hills, checking fences, enjoying each day without considering that eventually it would all come to an end. It was strange. Only after seeing Holly tonight did he feel like he was truly home. But still, it was not the same without Jason.

His brothers had told him Holly had only one year left before she received her veterinary license and that she had a clinic across from the ranch entrance. But they omitted how much she’d changed, and for a guy who’d seen pretty much everything life could throw at him, he’d been unprepared for the vision standing before him. He’s been blown away.

He’d always thought her older sister was beautiful and had been surprised when she’d agreed to go out with him back when they were high school seniors. That one date was all he’d needed. Karley wasn’t the kind of girl he usually dated. She was a breath of fresh air in the purest form, and he was anything but. He’d never asked her out again. When she’d called, he’d shut her down. He knew she’d been hurt, but he’d needed to make sure there was no further contact between them. Through the booze-and drug-filled haze, he’d done the right thing. Now he was again facing temptation with her younger sister, but this time it was far worse.

Holly was utterly feminine, almost fragile in the way she moved, like a ballet dancer on stage, and conveyed an innocence wrapped up in a tough persona. He was intrigued from the second he’d stepped inside her clinic. She was nothing remotely close to the scrawny little kid who’d followed him around the ranch, asking one question after another, ranging from why frogs hopped to where the clouds went on a clear day. He had often wondered when she found time to breathe.

She was still slim, but maturity had added some appealing assets. Her hair fell in a long, flaxen braid down her back. Her fine features were timeless; the delicate arch of her brows enhanced soft, honey-brown, almost golden eyes. The small button nose was now refined, adding to the delicate balance of her face. And heaven help him, her lips were made to be kissed. He let out a long breath and tried to gain control of his body, which suddenly had a will of its own.

In the years he’d been away, Holly Anderson had matured into a remarkably beautiful woman. Chance abruptly realized where his mind was headed and brought it to a halt. That type of awareness was completely inappropriate. Holly had always been like a kid sister to him. Theirs was a special friendship, a unique bond, and he would not do anything to change that. At least that was his steadfast intention.

Without conscious thought he walked across the natural stone courtyard around the pool, bypassing the twelve-foot-high waterfall, to the wrought iron gate between open pasture and the estate grounds.

Like the main house, the huge barn structure utilized a lot of natural stone beneath log beams reaching up some fourteen feet high to support an A-frame dark green roof. Accents of the same mossy color were added to the cross boards in the doors and the shutters outside each stall. Inside the massive structure, there was a lobby with trophy cases and a sitting area. To the left, a hallway with mahogany wainscoting led to the office on one side and two wash and grooming stalls on the right. Straight down the main aisle of thirty-six stalls, there was a grain room, blanket closets, tack room and two separate oversize stalls for foaling. To the right, there was a three-bay equipment garage. The indoor arena, with its elevated viewing area, was only slightly smaller than the outside arena.

Soft nickers welcomed him. The vibrant scents of cedar and pine shavings, alfalfa and leather soothed him. The barn, for all its amenities, seemed smaller than he remembered. He strolled down the center aisle, glancing at the horses in their stalls, some still munching their evening grain or pulling a bite of hay from their overhead rack. They were all bred to be the best and they appeared to fulfill that expectation. Their silky coats shone, even under the dim nighttime lighting. Alert and curious, some were excited at the prospect of leaving their stall for exercise in one form or another, regardless of the time, day or night.

He reached the open door to the tack room, and the scent of all the leather and the oils used to clean and condition the various pieces of tack lured him in. Western saddles sat five deep on the twenty-foot-long racks. Bridles covered one wall, halters another, with various other tools and grooming equipment in the floor-to-ceiling cabinet in the corner. He noticed an English saddle at the end of one of the saddle racks. That was new. You sure couldn’t work cattle with it. But then a lot of the wrangling was done on four-wheelers today. He reached over and picked it up. It was light, less than half the weight of a Western saddle. It was probably there to appease some guest who came out for a weekend and didn’t care for the Western riggings.

Back out in the central hall, he walked to the far end of the barn to an open area where hay for the stalled horses was kept. He sat down on a bale, leaned back against the wall and gazed at the sky. He missed this. He’d done plenty of night maneuvers, but the last thing he thought about then was gazing at the stars.

He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. Until a decision was made regarding his ability to perform his job, all he could do was walk the tightrope and keep his fingers crossed. He’d been assigned to see a civilian doctor while he was here. Hopefully he could add some positive input. But Chance had a sickening feeling in his gut that his life as a SEAL was over. It was how he’d deal with the news that caused the turmoil in his head. He was thirty years old. A lot of guys dropped out of the program by now. No doubt all of them wished they had the opportunity Chance was being given by his brothers. But he didn’t want to go there. If his brothers were content with the corporate side of things, good enough. But he wanted no part of it.

* * *

Holly again flounced onto her back, staring at the ceiling fan’s blades whirling silently in the darkened room. This was so not working. She was tired. She’d had a long day. But even after a soak in the tub she couldn’t go to sleep. Her mind refused to shut down. Glancing at the clock, she calculated she’d been lying in bed tossing and turning for almost two hours. Sleep was not even in the neighborhood, let alone knocking at her door. And she knew the reason was because Chance was home.

He was probably up in the big house with Wade and Cole. It was well after midnight. They were probably asleep. Even if they weren’t, she wasn’t about to disturb them on Chance’s first day home. But. What if he wasn’t with them? What if he was restless and couldn’t sleep either? What if he’d wanted some air? There was only one place he would go at one o’clock in the morning.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. A quick peek into Emma’s room assured her that the baby was sleeping soundly. Finger-combing her hair, Holly grabbed her phone and slipped into the tennis shoes by the back door.

“Are you leaving?” Amanda mumbled, half-asleep but still glued to the television.

“Couldn’t sleep. Just going to take a walk. Have my cell if you need me.”

“’Kay.”

Holly stepped outside and began jogging toward the main barn. If he wasn’t there, at least she could run off some restless energy. But if he was there, she didn’t want to waste a second that she could be spending with him.

The night air was cool to her skin with a hint of moisture. The creatures of the night continued to chirp as she jogged down the path, across the bridge and onto the main ranch road. She passed the driveway to the big house and finally reached the barn on the far rise.

The large outside double doors were open. The center hall had been swept as usual and there was no sign of anyone inside other than the current four-legged residents. She took a quick peek into the office. Finding it empty, she ventured down the hall, glancing inside the grain and tack rooms. No sign of Chance. Her shoulders dropped in disappointment. She turned around and started walking back the way she’d come when she heard a sound. It sounded like a snore. She stopped. After a few seconds, there it was again. It was coming from the far end of the building. Curious, she headed that direction. Sure enough, in the open area on the left, intended for keeping a monthly supply of hay for the horses that were stalled, two long muscled legs were propped up on a bale of hay. As she stepped closer, she knew it was Chance. He was sound asleep, his hat pulled down over his eyes. She should just go and let him sleep.

She really should.

She chewed her bottom lip and glanced at the stacks of baled silage. He could always go back to sleep. This was too good to pass up. Pulling a foot-long strand of hay from a nearby bale, she checked to make sure it had the dried seedpod on one end before slowly creeping toward him. Crouching on her knees, she reached out and touched the wispy end of the straw against his nose. He stirred and batted at his face. Holly had to work hard to stifle a giggle as she reached out again.

In less time than it took to blink he grabbed her arm, propelled her over his body and down onto the hay with him on top, one hand around her throat, the other holding her hands above her head.

Time stopped. His face was mere inches from hers, his look fierce, his eyes hard and deadly. She didn’t know if she should try to speak or just remain absolutely still. She’d heard of soldiers with PTSD having bad nightmares. But Chance’s eyes were open, glaring and focused on her.

“Chance?” She said his name, barely over a whisper. “Chance, it’s me, Holly.”

“I know it’s you,” he assured her, his voice low and angry. “I know what you were doing. And I know you came damned close to getting yourself killed.”

“Sorry. Lesson learned,” she squeaked. But he wasn’t letting her up. His granite body was pressing her down into the hay, making her intensely aware of the absolute power and total control he commanded. He released her neck, but still held her hands above her head. His eyes were mesmerizing, entrancing, and changed her need to escape into an almost desperate desire to stay. Her fright faded, turning into something else entirely. She could feel part of his body becoming more rigid, more unyielding, and she fought the overwhelming temptation to press her hips against him. She threw her head back, closing her eyes as she battled the need for him. She could smell the sweat from his body. All sounds around them stopped. Then it was too much. She was burning and she knew Chance was the only one who could make it stop.

She felt his warm breath on her face and her eyes opened, her gaze falling on his lips, full and enticing, only inches away. Absently she pulled her bottom lip inside her mouth, moistening it with her tongue. In the dim light she saw his face harden, the muscles of his jaw working overtime. In spite of his anger, she craved to know what his kiss would feel like. Twelve long years ago when she’d jumped into his arms and kissed him goodbye, she’d just been a kid. Her action had taken him by surprise and he had immediately set her away from him as shock and aggravation covered his face. But she’d held on to the memory even though it hadn’t been enough. Not nearly enough. It only provided a childish dream she’d carried in her pocket all this time. Now he lowered his head, his mouth coming closer while at the same time she felt the solid ridge of pure adult male begin to throb.

* * *

“Goddammit, Holly.”

With an abrupt move, he rolled off her and onto his feet. Disgust at himself for almost kissing her waged war with the frustration that he hadn’t. It wouldn’t have stopped after a few kisses. She was too damn enticing and it had been too long since he’d felt the pleasures of a woman. Damn. Gritting his teeth, Chance strove for control. Holly was more than just another available female. He would not take her like this, even if she asked. Not in a barn. Not in a bed. Not anywhere for any reason. He sucked in a deep breath and held out a hand to help her up.

She scrambled to her feet without acknowledging him then sent a glare in his direction. He probably should apologize, but he had a tough time saying he was sorry for something he didn’t regret. She appeared decidedly uncomfortable, looking in any direction but at him. She’d offered herself and he’d rejected her. But dammit, didn’t she understand? She wasn’t a one-nighter, a onetime roll between the sheets. She was so much more than that.

“Use a small bit of common sense.”

“You sure do wake up grumpy.”

Grumpy? He’d call what had almost happened a lot of things. Grumpy wasn’t one of them. He dropped his head and let out a sigh. Rubbing the back of his neck, he contemplated how to explain why he appeared grumpy.

“Holly, I spend most of my time, night and day, in areas of the world—in situations—where the only way you stay alive is by use of a sixth sense. It’s awareness. And you can never turn it off. If someone sneaks up on you, you have to assume it’s the enemy, and we are trained, if he’s that close, to take him out and ask questions later. If you don’t assume it’s the enemy, in all likelihood you’ll be dead before you figure it out. It’s an automatic reaction.”

“I didn’t know.”

Chance nodded. “Now you do.” He rested his hands on his waist. She hadn’t commented on the fact he’d come perilously close to permanently changing their friendship, and as long as she was feeling insulted, he might as well get it all out. “And there is one other thing I feel the need to mention. I will not have sex with you. We will never have sex. You are a friend. A very special friend. You are also Jason’s little sister.” He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “I will not touch you in that way. Ever. It would end what we have now and I don’t want to lose that.” If she had so much as raised her head a quarter of an inch, touching those amazing lips to his, they might be having a completely different conversation about now. Or no conversation at all.

“Fine by me,” she huffed right back at him. “What makes you think I would ever want to have sex with you anyway? Of all the unmitigated gall. Your arrogance defies description.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “I don’t even find you interesting...in that way.”

“Sweetheart, make no mistake. Our feelings greatly differ in that regard. I want you until it hurts. You are without doubt the most beautiful and the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. But I will not touch you, even if it kills me. And it very well may. Now, why are you here? What did you need?” He couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice and no doubt sounded a lot more surly than intended.

She adjusted her stance and the look on her face was somewhere between insulted and incredulous. “What did I need?”

“You woke me up, so you must have a reason.” He barked out his explanation then waited for an answer.

Her arms hugged her body in a protective stance as she glared at him. Silence ensued.

“What?” He enunciated the question. “Has it become a secret all of a sudden?”

She narrowed her eyes in anger. “I was just trying to place who you are. Because you’re sure not my friend Chance.”

He shook his head and huffed a sigh. “Holly...look. I’m sorry, okay?” How long had it been since he’d apologized to anyone?

“I didn’t want anything, Commander Masters. I didn’t expect to be attacked. I didn’t come looking for a good time. And I sure didn’t anticipate a lecture on how not to wake up an ill-tempered, arrogant grump. When did you get so bossy? You used to be nice. Sorry I bothered you.” She spun around and marched toward the exit at the front of barn.

“Holly.”

“Good night,” she snapped without turning around.

Just let it go. You’re asking for trouble if you don’t let her go.

“Holly.” Shit. He ran a hand over his face. “Wait.”

She slowed her steps, finally stopping, but she still didn’t turn around. Her hair fell in gentle silver-gold swirls past her waist. Small bits of hay clung to the silken strands. He watched as she slowly turned around, saw her chin jut out, displaying the stubborn streak she’d had since she could talk, and silently cursed himself for getting into this situation. With that angelic face and a body Playboy would kill to add to its centerfold collection, he knew he’d just made a big mistake. Another one. His body was still erect and throbbing, ready for action of a different kind that had nothing to do with the battlefield. Spending too much time around her he could easily lose his mind. Or find himself in a whole lot of trouble. Maybe both.

“I...I couldn’t sleep,” she said finally, her voice soft. “I guess it’s because you’re home.” She huffed out an embarrassed laugh as though she now thought the idea was completely lame. “I considered maybe you might be out here and could use some company. I thought we could talk. Like we used to. Sorry I woke you up.”

Chance muttered a string of silent curses, all aimed at himself. He could feel all the little spears of warning jabbing his body and mind, each one screaming No! as he nodded, sat back down on the old blanket he’d found in the office and patted a corner, silently inviting her to join him.

“I would like your company. I’ll try to be nice.”

With a shift in body language, Holly approached him, moving the loose strands of hay around and fussing over the makeshift bed like a hen building a nest. When she finally had her spot the way she wanted, she sat down and grinned up at him. She was radiant. She smelled of some kind of berries, probably her shampoo. It was nice. Not all flowery like what some women used. He could feel the slight heat of her smaller body next to him as she relaxed against the wall.

This was a very bad idea.

“So have your brothers hit you up about quitting the SEALs and coming home permanently?”

He wondered which of them told her about their little plan. “Wade?”

“Cole.” She smiled. “I take it that’s a yes. And let me guess. Might your answer have something to do with you being out here in the barn?”

“You know, Naval Intelligence could use your talent.”

“It isn’t that I’m snoopy,” she countered. “All that much,” she qualified. “People just like to blab. Especially men.”

“I’m going to let that pass.”

“That might be wise.” A frown covered her face, an indication of sincerity.

“So tell me about your clinic.”

“It’s there. You saw it. We’ve had this conversation. I’d rather talk about you.”

“I’m sure I’ll regret this...but what about me?”

“Exactly.”

She sounded pleased that he understood. He didn’t understand a damn thing except the need to adjust his pants. He turned his head and looked down into her eyes. Their faces were separated only by the width of their shoulders. He watched as her eyes dipped to his mouth. And stayed there. Her teeth were so white against her slightly open lips. His ability to remain indifferent dropped to below 2 percent. Give or take. With jaw-clenching determination, he looked away. “What can I tell you?”

When she didn’t immediately answer, he turned back to her, noting how she’d again lowered her gaze to his mouth.

“I’m not exactly sure how to put it.” She chewed her lower lip. Then let it slide from between her teeth until her mouth was again slightly open. Moistened. Full. Ready for kissing. Her soft honey-brown eyes looked directly into his.

“Is it hard?”


Three (#u0d5f7d82-7e58-55cb-894b-9a52f04ad873)

Chance froze as a flare of heat once again surged to his groin. He cleared his throat and tried to weigh the question. He’d been around the men in his platoon too long. They all tended to break the tension and stress by intentionally putting the wrong connotation on something another said. This was Holly. Especially after what just happened, it was better to be safe.

“Is what hard?”

“What you do. For a living. Being a SEAL.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling with a piece of straw. “I know you guys are the best, but even then, sometimes... Sometimes bad things happen. Like...what happened to Jason. I know you were hurt. Wade told me. I hear about an accident in Iraq or Afghanistan, like a chopper going down or our men being killed by some hidden bomb, and it’s all I can do to take another breath. I know what it’s like to get that phone call from a near hysterical wife who is calling to tell you your brother—her husband and the father of their baby—is dead. I can’t imagine what it must be like on the other side. To actually see someone killed or badly injured.”

He felt her struggle to not break down.

“After Jason... It became so real. It was no longer just a news report that happened to someone else. They could be talking about you. I pretty much held my breath every time they announced another casualty or bombing involving our guys, only relaxing when Wade didn’t call to tell me anything after a few days.”

That surprised him. He’d never considered that Holly would follow the news reports from that part of the world out of concern for him. He sensed she needed to know more than she’d probably been told. “It’s a job, Holly. One that needs doing. I try not to think any further than that. I trust my team. I know they’ve got my back and in return they have confidence in me and we get it done. Sometimes bad things happen. But that’s true wherever you are, whatever you’re doing.” They all prepared for that moment; they all knew the next breath could be their last, especially in SEALs. But he refrained from saying that out loud.

She was quiet for a long time.

“I wanted to write to you.” She shrugged. “Especially after Jason was killed. Wade offered an address.” She shook her head. “I was afraid I would say something that might cause you to lose your focus.”

“Nah. You should write. I’d enjoy hearing from you.”

She looked up at him. “Really?”

“Well, yeah.”

She settled back against the board wall and he felt her relax. One of the horses nickered; another answered.

“The horses are always ready to go. Night or day. I love their spirit. So eager to be saddled and taken on an adventure. I think they enjoy it as much as the riders do.”

“I would have to say you’re right. The biggest problem I used to encounter was holding them back when they wanted to tear ass and run.”

“Do you think you can still do it?”

Chance had to get a grip on this. There were so many ways this question could go.

“Do what?”

“Ride a horse.” This time she looked over at him, frowning. “What did you think I meant?”

He shrugged and hoped she would let it go. Distraction was the key. “Hell, yeah, I can still ride. It’s like a bicycle. Once you learn...”

“Isn’t that what they say about sex?” she asked. “I suppose it fits both scenarios.”

Sex? Did she bring that up on purpose? He glanced over and saw the look of pure innocence on her face. Nah. “What do you know about sex anyway?” It was out before he could stop it.

The cool look she gave him didn’t require words. But she answered anyway.

“Really. Are you honestly going there?” A look of disbelief covered her fine features. Her mouth was open in awe. Again. “Chance, I’m twenty-four years old and a year shy of being a doctor. I probably know more about sex than you do.”

He absolutely refused to take up that challenge. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“What way did you mean it? That I’m just a dumb little girl who never left the farm?”

“Your intelligence has never been questioned. I know you’re smart,” he murmured, adjusting his jeans in the most unnoticeable way he could. “You always have been.”

“Okay. Well, that kinda narrows the options.”

Chance didn’t like where this conversation was going. He didn’t want to think about Holly in another man’s arms let alone his bed. Hell. It was none of his business. Holly was an adult and she could date whom she wanted. But he still didn’t like it. Those bullets had done more than knock out his knee and shoulder. Apparently they had severely screwed with his head.

“Who is your boyfriend? Maybe I know him.” Safe subject.

“Don’t have one. Once the clinic caught on, I barely had time to breathe. That’s when we hired Jolie to run the office, take the calls, set up the appointments.”

“You said Kevin Grady is the co-owner?”

She nodded.

“I remember him. Red hair? Thick glasses?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and smiled. “You should see his kids! Anyway, he has the experience but couldn’t handle the workload by himself. I had the land and the old house that was left to me when Aunt Ida died. And that old masonry building sitting empty. So we formed a partnership. So far it’s working. There are two high school boys who work weekends and evenings, cleaning and caring for the boarded animals. Even then it’s still hectic at times. Right now we are all struggling to learn the new computer system.”

“You’ll get there. Look at how much you’ve accomplished already.”

“I guess. I owe a lot to your brothers. They fronted the money for the equipment. We’re making payments but I’ll be so glad when I’ve paid them back.

“Hell, I doubt if they’re worried about it.”

“So when are we going to saddle a couple of horses?”

Chance hesitated. In actuality, he wasn’t so sure he could still swing up into a saddle. His right knee was still healing. It was mended enough that he could hide the tendency to limp. And the left knee took the brunt of the weight when he put his foot in a stirrup. Maybe he could manage without doing any more damage. “I don’t know. I think Wade is expecting me to spend some time in Dallas but that probably won’t be until next week.”

She let her head fall back against the wooden wall and grinned like a cat that had just found the key to the milk vault.

“What?”

“I have something I want to show you while you’re here. Something I’ve recently gotten into. I’ll bet if you give it a try it will have you flat on your back and begging for mercy in about eight seconds.”

Mother of God. He wasn’t going to ask. He. Would. Not. Ask.

“Aren’t you going to ask what it is?”

“No.”

“You sound grumpy again.” Her eyes narrowed as she gave him the once-over. “You must be really tired. I know you’ve experienced a lot of emotions today. I’ll wait until you get your strength back and show you. Give you a live demonstration. It’s easier than trying to describe it anyway. I guarantee you’re going to think I’ve gone absolutely wild-child crazy. But I love it. You get into this rhythm and feel all that power beneath you, pushing you up and slamming you down, and know you control it...ah man, there’s nothing like it.”

He pinched his eyes closed and took a deep breath. He could feel her looking at him. For the life of him, he didn’t know how to tactfully respond.

“Can we change the subject?” He cleared his throat. Why had he ever decided to come to the barn?

“Sure. Are you in pain?”

“No.” Yes. But not in a way he could do anything about at the moment.

She nudged his arm playfully. “What do you want to talk about?”

He hadn’t found one safe topic of conversation so far and he was quickly running out of ideas. When he’d thought about coming back to the ranch to recuperate, he hadn’t envisioned this. He hadn’t considered how Holly would have grown and matured into someone he would love to know better. A lot better. And thoughts like that wouldn’t cut it. He needed to clamp down on his wayward thinking and he needed to start right now.

“How about on Sunday we grab a couple of horses and disappear for a while? I’ll tell Wade we will go into Dallas later in the week. I’d like to see how things have changed on the ranch.”

“That sounds great.” She yawned. “Maybe then I can show you my new passion.”

He let his head bounce against the back wall. Goddamn. This was so messed up. He needed a smoke. Or a beer. Or both. The last time he’d seen Holly she’d been a child. For some reason she’d taken to him and he’d not been able to stop her from following him around the ranch, first with her brother there, then the few times when he wasn’t. She’d been too young to take a hint and he wasn’t about to hurt the feelings of a little ten-year-old by telling her to get lost and leave him alone. She had persisted and not only had he begun to enjoy her presence, he’d missed her when she wasn’t around.

She’d been a cute kid, smart, never hesitating to speak her mind and not caring if she insulted someone in the process. He’d respected that. Especially in one so young. It was just over fifteen miles between her home and the school, so hanging out with her friends and classmates had rarely been an option for her, even after she’d joined 4-H. He’d definitely been like a second big brother. That status forever changed the second he’d stepped inside her clinic earlier tonight.

He felt Holly snuggle into his shoulder, her hand falling across his waist. It wasn’t long before the sounds of the night were the only things he heard. He leaned farther back against the board wall, scooting down in the hay, absently smoothing his hand over her long silky hair.

How many times over the past ten years had he sat for hours against a stone wall, his senses alert to any sound out of the ordinary? The desert air had been dry, dusty, with a smell like something was rotting, the nights cold, the landscape harsh. In his mind he’d always walked through the plan of attack they would carry out just before sunrise, going over it in detail time after time. Recently, though, images of this ranch had pushed strategic preparations out of his head. The lush green pastures, the smiling faces. And sometimes he’d begun to wish he could come home to exactly this, although he hadn’t really envisioned Holly snuggled in his arms. But that made it even better.

He had to question what was changing inside to make him start thinking of home after twelve years. Twelve years next month. At that time he would sign up for another three-year stretch if the medical evaluation board didn’t determine he was out of the military forever.

Chance heard footsteps and looked up to find Wade walking in his direction. The smile on his face and a slight shake of his head said he wasn’t surprised to find Holly asleep in his brother’s arms.

“Just checking,” he said in a lowered voice. “You both okay?”

“Yeah. I was just about to walk her home.”

Chance stood up, then gathered Holly into his arms. She weighed next to nothing. A couple of tentative steps told him his knee could do it.

“Her house is behind the clinic a few yards. There’s a path and light. You’ll see it. It was her aunt’s old house, if you remember.”

“Thanks.”

Walking to the front of the barn, Chance stepped out into the semidarkness. Holly had tucked herself into his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. He could feel her soft breath against his neck. When the smell of berries infused the night air, it was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.

A sudden sense of being home wrapped around him like a heavy fog. He could see only the road beneath his boots and the gentle face of the woman who slept in his arms. Drawing a deep breath, he inhaled the familiar smells of the ranch and heard the sounds of nature that stirred in his mind memories he’d carried since forever. He felt uplifted, although exactly what caused it, he didn’t know. For the first time since he was wounded—maybe further back than that—he didn’t feel the restlessness that speared him on each and every day. He felt at peace.

Stepping off the gravel road onto a well-worn path, he heard the water running in the stream seconds before he felt the cooler temperature inside the tree line. He smelled the rich, raw earth. Then he heard the hollow sound of his footsteps as he crossed the wooden footbridge that had existed long before he’d discovered it. He skirted the clinic, and with one last glance down at Holly, he stepped up onto the small patio of her home and opened the door.

If the woman watching TV in Holly’s house thought it strange to see a man step inside with Holly in his arms, she hid it well.

“And you are?”

“Chance Masters. And Holly is fine. Just asleep.”

“That way.” The woman pointed to her left. “Down the hall on the right.”

“Thanks.”

He laid Holly on her bed, pulled off her shoes and covered her with the blanket. He had to get a grip on this. Fast. Less than twenty-four hours back on the ranch and he was putting her to bed and fighting the desire to climb in with her.

Holly was a beautiful temptation. But Chance knew it would be unethical to come on to her, especially when his future was not set in stone. Some women were in it for the sex and were okay with no promises of forever. When he disappeared on a mission, the women he dated just found someone else. He couldn’t see Holly in that light. She was as special now as she’d ever been and she would expect more from him. Maybe a lot more than he could give.

He needed to find something that would guarantee that distance was maintained between them. With every breath Holly reminded him he was a man. Every muscle in his body tightened, making him throb with painful need. The vision of Holly beneath him, the delicate features of her face glowing in mindless captivation of their sexual joining, her eyes locked to his as he moved inside her.

He had to stop it. Now.

But even so, the innocence of their friendship was forever gone. Whether a good thing or bad, there would be no going back to the way they were.


Four (#u0d5f7d82-7e58-55cb-894b-9a52f04ad873)

Holly awoke to Amanda shaking her shoulder. “It’s almost eight. Are you opening the clinic today?”

Holly moaned, nodded her understanding and sat up.

“You slept in your clothes?”

Looking down, Holly realized she was fully dressed except for her shoes. “I guess I did.”

“And you fell asleep in Chance Masters’s arms? Are you like kidding me?”

Holly nodded. “We were talking and I guess I did fall asleep.” And Chance had brought her home. More than likely she’d been in his arms. It was typical of her rotten luck that she couldn’t remember it. “We’ve known each other as far back as I can remember. He and my older brother were really tight.”

“If I was with that man, the last thing I would do is fall asleep.” Amanda sipped her coffee. “Go. Have your shower. I’m preparing Emma’s cinnamon oatmeal. How long is the hunk staying, and is he married, engaged or involved?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Amanda muttered as she returned to the kitchen. “That is one fine man.”

When Holly emerged from the shower, Amanda had already dressed Emma and was helping her eat breakfast. Holly paused to kiss the baby good-morning and gave Amanda a grateful hug before she left the house.

A quick peek around the corner of the clinic to the front parking area showed no cars in the lot. After entering the building, she put on some coffee, turned on the computer and scrolled through the appointments for the day. There were eleven scheduled and none was serious: annual vaccinations, a horse for pregnancy confirmation and a pig that limped. Probably stepped on a nail or cut its hoof in some way and it had become infected. Not a biggie. But hogs took everything to the extreme. One touch in an area they didn’t want you to touch and they would scream. And scream. And scream. And they were loud. The town should find a way to use them for storm warnings. Everyone in the county would hear it.

She poured a cup of coffee and headed back outside to the far end of the building where there were four pipe-and-cable pens. Inside two of the pens were two mares that were due to be picked up today. They were recovering from founder brought on by too much spring grass. Some horses could handle it. Some couldn’t. But both mares were looking good, back on their feed and ready to go home. And with no boarders scheduled, the clinic would be closed.

It was shaping up to be a perfect weekend. She could make it to the Kite Festival and enjoy the afternoon with Emma. And then Sunday maybe she and Chance could go riding. Just as she stepped back inside the building, the little bell over the front door chimed and she welcomed the first appointment of the day.

* * *

Following the curving road through the trees, Holly slowed the truck as she neared the parking area for the Calico Springs County Lake. It wasn’t a huge lake, but covering several hundred acres, it was big enough for skiing and fishing tournaments. Its ever-growing popularity attracted families from Dallas on summer holiday. They had recently added more camping grounds and additional shower facilities. She found a parking spot and hopped down from the truck. Kites in every shape, size and color filled the sky. Amanda said they would be near the B section of the campgrounds and Holly headed in that direction.

A lot of the people brought their own food. Ice chests and containers of various sizes filled every available space on the picnic tables and lined the brightly colored quilts that had been spread out over the green grass. The aroma of hickory and mesquite wood filled the air as people grilled hot dogs and hamburgers. There was face painting, and vendors sold an array of food and sweet temptations along with lemonade, souvenirs and, of course, hundreds of kites and plenty of cords of string to fly them.

Holly caught sight of Emma as Amanda knelt before her holding a pink kite. Jogging over to them, Holly swung Emma into her arms, giving her a big kiss that made her giggle. Emma pointed to the colorful paper birdies in the sky and couldn’t contain a squeal of excitement before Holly put her down. Taking her hand, they made their way through the crowd toward a grassy knoll that bordered the lake. Amanda held a pink kite and a spool of string while Holly attempted to tell Emma what they were going to do with it. The baby’s eyes were wide as she sucked on her first finger and looked at the sky.




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