by Tawny Weber
She blinked. No, she hadn’t been. Should she feel guilty about that or the fact she was sitting in what had been her mother’s council chair, thinking about sex?
Hope felt too good for guilt. She smiled instead.
“I’m sorry, I missed that. What were you saying?”
“I said that you’ve reached your maximum donation for the center. We’re going to have to count your bid in the auction against the funds raised, rather than adding to it.” His face drawn in an expression of regret so fake that his jowls wobbled, Pete March tapped the spreadsheet he held up for the council to see. “Which means we’re two thousand dollars short of your projection. And that means the community center will become an adults only venue.”
They couldn’t do that.
Stunned, Hope could only stare at the spreadsheet as the lines blurred together. It wasn’t until the mayor was congratulating Pete that she was able to think clearly again.
“Wait.”
They simply kept on talking as if she didn’t exist.
“Will you wait just a minute,” Hope said louder this time, coming to her feet with enough force to send her chair toppling over. “Hope,” Mayor Koss chided. “What would your mother say about such an unseemly display?”
The mention of her mother had the exact opposite effect of calming her down or shutting her up. Instead, it filled Hope with a desperate sort of determination.
“This isn’t right. Those funds were raised in good faith. If you insist on not counting them, that’s one thing. But you can’t count them against the other funds.”
“Of course we can. It’s in the fine print.” Pete waved the Diver’s Cove policy and procedure manual—the one that he just happened to have handy—in the air like a flag.
Hope growled. She actually leaned her fists on the table, leaned forward and growled.
It wasn’t the shocked faces that stopped her from spewing anger all over the council members. Nor was it her mother’s voice chiding in her head that ladies never showed excessive emotions.
It was reality.
The very simple reality that as good as a tantrum would feel, as much as she’d love to share the ugly truth of everything from the corruption of the council to the small mindedness of the town to the poor fit of the mayor’s toupee, she knew it was pointless.
She had one option.
And only one.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Just so I have this straight, you’re breaking our date. The one you paid a fortune for. Instead, you want me to go out with Rae.”
Cam shook his head. He’d heard it twice, but he still couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
“She’ll make good her last bid,” Hope said as if he gave a rat’s ass about the auction. “If you’re willing to make the switch, that’ll satisfy the council.”
And yet another rat’s ass he didn’t give a damn about.
He wanted to ask her why…
No, he wanted her to explain why the hell she cared so much about a bunch of uptight jerks and their arbitrary rules. There were enough ways to get around them. She just needed to be willing to stand up and fight.
Was she like the rest of the town? Quick to judge, unwilling to break away from the pack and do the right thing?
But Cam didn’t ask for an explanation.
He didn’t say a single word.
His gaze locked on her face, he simply nodded.
But Hope didn’t need words to sense his anger.
Her face beseeching, she reached for him but Cam got up from the couch instead of taking her hand.
“Cameron? You understand why I’m doing this, don’t you? It means a lot to me that the community center is exactly what my mother wanted.”
The way the house was decorated in the same fashion her mother had wanted. And how Hope’s career was the one her mother had expected. Pretty much the only thing Hope had ever stood up to her mother over was him, Cam realized. And she’d waited until her mom was dead and even then she wasn’t willing to stand firm.
He turned to leave.
“Cameron.” Hope hurried after him. “I had to do this. There isn’t time for anything else. Please, let’s see this through.”
“Talking’s done.” What good did talking do, anyway? He was actually grateful that she’d dumped this on him now, before he’d sat her down to talk about his feelings.
“Where are you going?” she asked as he reached the front door.
“I’ve got a date to get ready for.” He shot a dark look over his shoulder but didn’t slow down. “Thanks to you.”
* * *
“I can’t believe you gave your date with Cam to Rae.” As the two of them stood to one side of the ballroom waiting for the mayor to give the closing speech to mark the end of the benefit, Bonnie looked as if she were going to be sick.
“I did what I had to do,” Hope said for what had to be the fiftieth time. She couldn’t bring herself to glance toward Rae, though. The redhead had been strutting and preening for three days, her expression triumphant.
It didn’t matter if that triumph was over stealing the date away from Hope, or because she wanted Hope to think she’d slept with Cameron. Either way, it was irritating.
“You should have fought the council. That wasn’t right, what they did. Everyone I’ve talked to agrees. If you’d publically called them on it, they’d have had to back down.”
“I know.” Hope patted Bonnie’s arm, hoping to calm the other woman before she started a riot. “But it would have been ugly and it would have taken too much time.”
While her friend muttered about degrees of ugly and some fights being worth having, Hope let her rant. Because it wasn’t the ugly she’d backed down from.
It’d been the timing.
She had to fulfill this last obligation to her mother.
She simply had to.
As soon as she did, she’d be free to leave Diver’s Cove, to live her own life. If she’d gotten dragged into a battle with the town council, she knew she’d have won. But by then, Cameron would have been gone.
She hadn’t been able to tell him why it was so important that the center be funded by the end of the benefit, because that’d mean telling him that the new life she wanted to start was with him. Or around him. Or even in the same state as him.
Saying that kind of thing was guaranteed to scare a man off. Of course, Cameron had left anyway.
“Oh my God.” Bonnie’s gasp was as effective as the elbow she rammed into Hope’s side. “Look. Holy cow, look. Hope, you called in the Navy.”
It was as if the entire ballroom had exploded with whispers, the sound drowning out the mayor’s pontificating.
Her eyes wide with shock, Hope watched Cameron lead three other men, all in Navy uniforms, into the ballroom. Without looking left, nor right, they strode directly toward the front of the ballroom, climbed the steps of the stage and stood, at ease, while the mayor tried to ignore them.
But he could only hold out for so long against the twitters and whispers and, soon, shouted questions before he heaved a sigh so loud it screeched through the sound system.
“I assume you have a reason for this rude display?” he said, his hand over the microphone doing nothing to drown out his question to the men.
Nor did the question have the intimidating effect he clearly intended.
As one, Cameron and the other men simply stood, waiting, until the mayor gave one last hard look and stepped away from the microphone.
Already too shocked to move, Hope’s jaw simply dropped when Cameron stepped forward. He rarely spoke as it was, but to get up in front of the entire town and speak?
Her heart raced, her mind spinning in a dozen directions as she tried to guess why he was there.
“I’m here to make another donation to the community center,” he announced, as if reading her mind. His voice was neutral and his expression remote. But his eyes were hot when they locked on Hope’s. “The proceeds of selling my Harley will go to t
he children and teen section of the community center. As you all know, the funds for those programs were already raised by Hope Goodwin. These funds will simply ensure that the program is funded for a good, long time.”
Hope’s smile trembled, tears filling her eyes at his gesture. Not just in donating the money, but in putting the facts right there in everyone’s face. Before she could begin the applause, though, Cameron raised one finger.
“We’re here,” he pointed over his shoulder at the other men, “to ensure nobody is thinking about finding some rule or reason to funnel those funds elsewhere. We’ll be here until we are satisfied that Grace Goodwin’s vision of the Diver’s Cove Community Center is fulfilled.”
As her heart filled so full with love and appreciation that she felt it’d burst, Cameron waited a beat, but not one person voiced protest.
He nodded as if he’d expected nothing different, then without another word, he hopped off the stage.
“Hoo, boy. He put them all in their places,” Bonnie said, cackling as the crowd recovered from Cameron’s abrupt order.
The man Cameron had introduced as Morelli stepped up to the mic and smiled. The sound of giggles and sighs filled the room.
“So, I hear you auction off guys around here. I’ve got a couple of single buddies with me who’re up for grabs.” His steely gaze slid to the Mayor. “Assuming the funds are used for the kids, of course.”
When the mayor, a man well versed in the necessities of reelection, gave a jerky nod, Morelli beckoned his friends forward.
“Ladies, who doesn’t love a SEAL? Let me tell you about these two men. On my left, we have Mr. Wizard. Yes, the man is magic. And on my right, the guy we call Cowboy. So let’s talk bids.”
The catcalls and bids faded into a soft buzz as Cameron stepped in front of Hope. Her pulse keeping time with her dancing heart, she gave him a giddy smile.
He’d understood.
She hadn’t had to spell out for him what she was facing or why it was important to her. She hadn’t had to resort to deals or begging to get him to go along. Without knowing her reasons, even though he’d been furiously angry, he’d supported her.
“Hi,” she said softly because I love you seemed too personal to say in a crowd.
“Hi.” Then, because Cameron clearly didn’t mind getting personal in public, he leaned forward to take her mouth in a hot, wet kiss. When he leaned back, Hope had to grab hold of him because her knees had turned to jelly.
Before she could recover, he lifted her off her feet and carried her out to the veranda, ignoring the whoops and hollers but nodding a thanks to the kid who closed the door behind him.
Outside, he set Hope back on her feet, but didn’t release her. She had a million questions, but Cameron shook his head before she could ask the first.
“We’re not done yet. We’re too good together, in and out of bed, to be finished after a week.” He gave her an entire second to respond, then continued before she could open her mouth. “There’s a need for community development liaisons in Southern California, and the less I have to travel, the more time we have for sex.”
This time he waited two seconds, but Hope didn’t even try to protest.
“Well?” He frowned.
“My bags are already packed,” she told him before sliding her hands up to cup his cheeks. “I love you. I’ll go anywhere you want.”
His sigh of relief was strong enough to ruffle her hair, then Cameron smiled.
“I love you, too, you know.”
“I know.” Hope brushed a soft kiss over his mouth, her tongue dancing along his bottom lip before she smiled. “You’d do a lot of things for sex, Cameron Drake. But getting up on stage like that? That, you’d only do for love.”
THE END
* * * * *
Read on for a sneak peek at
CALL TO REDEMPTION
an exciting new Team Poseidon Novel from
New York Times bestselling author
Tawny Weber!
The Poseidon team are hard-bodied, fiercely competitive Navy SEALs. But when a sensitive mission goes disastrously wrong, three of the team’s finest will have to trust their hearts and instincts to uncover the truth…
No strings. No questions. Just pleasure. For a few blissful days, Lieutenant Commander Nic Savino is enjoying a wild fling with the sexiest stranger he’s ever laid eyes—or any other body part—on. It’s almost enough to make the stalwart SEAL let down his guard for once. Until he learns that assistant US attorney Darby Raye—his Darby—is heading an investigation designed to destroy him…and Poseidon.
PROLOGUE
“LIEUTENANT COMMANDER DOMINIC SAVINO, you stand accused of conduct unbecoming an officer, disobeying orders and conspiracy to commit treason.”
The voice boomed like a cannon, its roar a vivid contrast to the courtroom’s silence. As he stood at attention on the stand, the sound ricocheted down Nic’s spine like a piece of shrapnel, ripping and tearing.
“Commander, do you understand these charges?”
Understand? Nic had a solid understanding of the fact that he’d been framed, that he was the fall guy for some treasonous sonofabitch. Someone in power with a network of Navy personnel focused on lining their bank accounts at the expense of their country. Yeah.
He understood that.
That, and everything that came with the charges leveled against him. Court martial. Prison time. The end of his career. The loss of his freedom. The destruction of his team. Fury rose, rolling like waves that crested higher with each heartbeat.
But none of that was evident on his face. Neither awareness nor fury was allowed to show.
“Affirmative.”
“How do you plead?”
Nic’s gaze didn’t shift left, didn’t move right. His deadeye stare aimed straight ahead, focused on the rippling glory of the American flag hanging over the courtroom’s double doors.
He replayed the accusation. He thought back over the previous year’s events.
An operation gone horribly wrong that’d resulted in life-threatening injuries to one team member, and the supposed death of another.
The realization that a SEAL, a man sworn to serve his country, would steal classified information to sell to the highest bidder, put his teammates lives in peril and fake his own death—all for money. That shocking acceptance the same man would target a young child, a defenseless woman and kill a fellow SEAL.
And now the emotional train wreck of watching his team targeted by an asshole with an agenda who was determined to ignore the fact that Poseidon was being framed by a traitorous sociopath with psychotic tendencies.
It’d all been coming down to this.
The moment of truth.
After fourteen years of service protecting the safety and freedom of his country, it wasn’t Nic’s life on the line this time. This time, it was his team. His career. His reputation. His own freedom.
Ignoring the tight knot in his gut, he shifted his gaze to the right. He gave Lieutenant Thomas a look cold enough to freeze the man’s innards and, in a clear voice, stated, “Not guilty.”
Thomas’ eyes narrowed, his lips tightened. Why the man should flash frustration was baffling. Any first-year JAG would have expected that exact plea. Nic filed the expression away to decipher later.
For now, he simply let his stare intimidate until the Lieutenant turned away. But not before Nic caught the line between his brows twitching.
For the first time since he’d walked into the courtroom that morning, the tension tying his intestines in knots loosened.
He was innocent.
Poseidon was clean.
No matter what information the Lieutenant and his team thought they’d bring to the table over the course of this trial, Nic knew that neither he, nor any of his men, had done anything illegal, against orders or in any way traitorous.
But knowing that didn’t ensure he’d walk away from this trial. Not with his freedom. Quite possibly not with his career and reputat
ion intact. The odds of keeping his command, of holding together an elite special ops team after being brought up on charges were slim.
But now?
Nic watched as Thomas exchanged frowns with the Lieutenant Commander seated at the prosecutors’ table.
Now? He had hope. More, he had faith that he’d not only be vindicated, but that he’d keep his command, his team and dammit, that they’d nail the real traitor before this was over.
It was then and only then that he allowed his gaze to shift. For a millisecond, he glanced toward the gallery.
His team spanned the first row. Ten men in uniform, each one wearing a look of implacable determination. Each one radiating strength and dedication. And yes, each one looking equally pissed at the insult they knew they’d been served.
Nic’s gaze shifted to the right, toward the woman sitting just behind the prosecution.
Beneath an edgy fringe of bangs, a pair of huge gold eyes stared back at him. In those molten depths he saw two things. Strength and challenge.
How had he got this far in life without her?
And what the hell was he going to do now that he’d found her?
Nic had spent his adult life training, leading, fighting for his country. Without hesitation, he’d put his life, his guts and his reputation on the line time and time again. But today, his innocence wasn’t the only thing at stake.
Nor was this a simple matter of justice.
He was a Lieutenant Commander in the United States Navy.
He was a multi-decorated Navy SEAL.
He was a SEAL Team platoon leader, he commanded over a hundred military and civilian personnel.
He’d fought in wars. He’d led missions. He’d orchestrated clandestine operations. He’d conceptualized, created, evaluated and nurtured the elite force of Team Poseidon. He’d honed his skills in leadership, combat and procedure.
In the last six months, he’d lost a man. He’d killed another. He’d had a building explode around him. He’d been betrayed and brought to trial to face the accusation of the very crimes he’d fought to end.
And for the first time in thirty-three years, Nic risked something that many people—including himself—had come to believe didn’t exist.
