Redeeming The Billionaire Seal

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.