SEALs of Winter: A military romance superbundle

by Seton, Cora

  “I’m so tired,” she murmured. “It’s tomorrow, can’t I just go to bed?”

  Donovan resisted a groan himself. Yes, bed sounded perfect right now. With her in it and him sliding into her.

  Damn it. Why did his thoughts keep straying?

  “Nope. You can catnap, that’s it.”

  She lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. “Fine. Do you always do things by the book?”

  “It’s in my training.”

  “Ah. So you never do anything you weren’t trained to do?”

  “Oh, I do lots of things that I wasn’t trained to do, cara.”

  Her gaze lifted to his. The air charged around them. One kiss. Just to find out what she tasted like.

  “Like what?”

  A challenge? He never backed down from a challenge. Especially when it came from a beautiful woman.

  “Like this.” He bent his head until their breath mingled. Hers came in pants. She would taste like the crème from dessert. Sweet and delicious.

  “Donovan…”

  That whispered plea brought him to his senses. What the hell was he doing? How could she trust a man who put the moves on her?

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Maybe another time, mia cara.”

  A shudder worked over her, making him regret this wasn’t a different time, a different situation.

  She pulled away, putting distance between them. “Maybe we should just watch the movie.”

  Donovan turned his attention to the television. If he didn’t rein this in, it would be a damn long night.

  *

  Cloe kept her gaze focused on the television, but her heart pounded like a drum. She’d wanted Donovan to kiss her. Actually anticipated it. Which confused the heck out of her. They’d just met and she wasn’t looking for a relationship. Why on Earth would she want to go through that pain again? Especially with a Navy SEAL who put himself in danger for a career.

  No, better to stay on course. Try and put one foot in front of the other and get through the days until time eventually healed her wounds. If that were possible. It had been almost a year and she still hurt.

  The best thing for her to do was to get through tonight, and say goodbye tomorrow. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and tried to ignore the loneliness seeping into her. So many nights spent alone in front of the TV just like this, wishing she could go back and change the past.

  Except tonight she had someone to stay with her. And, God help her, she liked having Donovan there. His strong, steady presence made her feel less alone. Not so numb. If she wasn’t careful, he’d make her think she could have this life again.

  *

  “It’s nine o’clock, I should be able to go in and get a replacement phone.”

  Donovan glanced at his watch. “I’ll drive you. We can swing by the restaurant and grab breakfast.”

  “I think I’m still full from last night.”

  He rose to his feet and helped her to hers. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And you’ve got a few hours before you can sleep, so you’re gonna need your fuel.”

  “I feel fine.”

  He nudged her toward the door. “Twenty-four hours. No less.”

  She sighed. “You really do stick to the rules, don’t you?”

  “You’re a fast learner.”

  Her look made him smile. Even after being awake all night she still had some of that fire.

  It didn’t take long to get a replacement phone from her carrier. Although, Cloe didn’t seem all that happy to have her phone back. Probably just tired.

  On the way to the restaurant she remained silent. Her lids drooped a couple times during the short ride. Yep, she needed fuel to make it through this afternoon.

  He parked in the back and guided her into the restaurant. His mom and dad were behind the grill this morning. Luciano and his wife Camila, also a chef, usually worked the midday shift. They both preferred preparing lunch and dinner rather than breakfast. Where breakfast was his mom’s favorite meal.

  His mom glanced over her shoulder when they walked in. Her face lit up like it always did when one of her kids came in. She wiped her hands on her apron and rounded the counter. Donovan leaned down and kissed both her cheeks.

  “Good morning, Máthair.”

  She patted his cheek. He knew his career took its toll on her, but she never complained.

  “And this is Cloe?” She turned her attention to Cloe. “I’m Maureen. How are you feeling?”

  He watched Cloe’s eyes widen slightly when she heard his mother’s soft Irish lilt. In general she was a soft-spoken woman, but when she got riled, watch out. This tiny woman could unleash a temper like he’d never seen. He and his brothers had been on the receiving end of it too many times in the past. She always hugged them afterwards, though. No matter how upset she got over their pranks, she always gave them a hug after she chewed their ass.

  Cloe glanced at him before answering. “So nice to meet you. I’m feeling fine, thank you.”

  “You’re here for breakfast?”

  “If it’s not too busy,” Donovan said. “I can make us something.”

  His mom waved him off. “Nonsense. You aren’t home often. Go. Find a table and I’ll make you something special.”

  Donovan led Cloe to the front of the café and held out a chair for her at one of the only empty tables.

  “Is it always this busy?” she asked when he sat across from her.

  “Almost every day.”

  “After the meal I had last night I can see why. Is your entire menu authentic Italian food?”

  “My dad won’t have it any other way. For that matter, neither will my mom.”

  His sister, Francesca, approached the table with two demitasse glasses. She set one in front of each of them before leaning down to kiss his cheek.

  “Ciao fratello,” she said before turning to Cloe. “You must be Cloe. I’m Francesca, Donovan’s sister. How are you feeling?”

  Cloe glanced at him before answering. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through what you did. That guy sounded like a jerk.”

  Donovan watched Cloe withdraw slightly. He got the impression she’d been through more than just the accident yesterday.

  “He was a jerk,” Cloe agreed. “Your brother took care of him for me though.”

  Francesca sent him a knowing smile. “Donovan is good like that. I’ll leave you two to your macchiato.”

  Once she walked away, he picked up his glass and took a sip.

  “What is this?” Cloe asked after taking a sip of hers.

  “A long macchiato. Double espresso with steamed milk.”

  “It’s potent, but very good. Definitely got a kick.”

  He started to reply but her cell rang. She frowned at the screen, then answered. Her eyes widened and all the color leeched from her face.

  What the hell?

  “Don’t ever call me again,” she said and dropped the phone on the table like it had bit her.

  “Who was that?”

  Her gaze met his and he saw fear there. His instincts kicked in and he grabbed the phone to scroll through the recent calls. Blocked number.

  “Cloe, who called you?”

  Her hand trembled where she wrapped it around her glass. “The man who hit me yesterday.”

  His gut clenched. “What did he say?”

  “He said I cost him everything and to watch my back.”

  Anger shot through him. Along with the urge to protect her. “In those exact words?”

  She nodded. “How did he get my number?”

  “We never found your cell phone. Maybe he grabbed it.” He reached over the table and covered her hand with his. “I won’t let him come anywhere near you.”

  “You don’t think he’s serious, do you?”

  “Do you?”

  Something flickered in her eyes. “He sounded like it. But, how could he blame me for anything? He hit me.”

/>   He didn’t know but he sure as hell was going to find out. “Let me handle it.”

  She shook her head. “No, he was probably just blowing off some steam because he lost his expensive car.”

  Donovan knew better than that, but could tell she wasn’t ready to process so he didn’t correct her.

  She pushed her glass aside and began to rise. “Could you take me home, please? I’m really not hungry anymore.”

  Francesca approached the table with their plates. “Oh, where are you going?” she asked, setting a plate in front of Cloe, who froze halfway out of her chair. “Your breakfast is here. Prepared special for you by Máthair. She wanted me to tell you to eat every bite because you need some fattening up.”

  Donovan watched Cloe sink back into her chair and force a smile. “Tell her thank you and I’ll try.”

  Francesca’s smile faltered as she set his plate in front of him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her gaze bouncing from him to Cloe and back again.

  “Nothing. Everything is fine,” Cloe said, picking up her fork.

  Donovan sent his sister a look that told her to let it drop. She sent him one back that said she’d get answers from him later. And she would. As the oldest sister she was a mother hen to her siblings. Even though she was the third oldest of all of them.

  His expression hardened and she sent him an obstinate look before saying, “Well, if there is anything you need don’t hesitate to call.” She sent him one last stare before walking away. He knew that look. She was going to get the truth out of him and the rest of the Demarco family would know something was up by the end of the day.

  He loved that they stuck together and supported each other, but he wasn’t sure Cloe would be okay with it. She played her cards pretty close to the vest.

  Right now she poked at her food, pushing it around on her plate without taking a bite. Deciding to run interference, he pushed out of his chair.

  “Be right back.” He strode into the kitchen, grabbed two to-go containers and explained to his mom that Cloe wasn’t feeling well, but he would make sure she ate every bite when she did. He got out of there with only a small argument and a promise to stop over soon because work wasn’t the place to sit and visit with her busy son, as his mom so bluntly put it.

  After kissing her cheek, he joined Cloe at the table, boxed up their food and helped her to her feet. Her expression verified he’d done the right thing.

  At his car Cloe said, “Thank you for taking me home.”

  “You looked ready to leave.”

  She climbed into the car and he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. When they arrived at her house she turned to him. “I appreciate you staying with me last night.”

  “You have a couple more hours before you can sleep.”

  He moved to open his door, but she stopped him. “No. Please. I’m fine. I won’t sleep until bedtime, promise. You’ve done enough already.”

  He had promised Jack and Darci he’d come over for dinner tonight. But he didn’t want to leave Cloe alone. Not just because of the concussion, but the phone call. The guy hadn’t made a direct threat, but a veiled one. The worst kind. Left it open as to if he were serious or not. Could be he was just blowing steam because he lost his expensive car, as Cloe thought. Or not. There was no way to know. And Cloe couldn’t go to the PD on a ‘watch your back’ threat. They would only tell her to call them if the guy made an actual threat.

  “Let me see your cell phone,” he said.

  With a frown, she handed it over. He programmed his number and gave it back. “If you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

  She nodded and got out of the car before he could go around to open her door. He met her on the sidewalk and handed the to-go containers to her. “Take these. I have dinner plans so they’ll only get wasted. Besides, I promised my mom you’d eat yours.”

  Although she hesitated, she still accepted the boxes. He walked her to the door and waited until she’d gone inside to say goodbye. Only after she closed and locked the door did he linger. Convincing himself she’d be all right, he strode back down the walkway and got in his car. After one last look he drove away, something gnawing at his gut he couldn’t identify.

  Maybe after dinner he’d stop by and check on Cloe.

  Pulling away from the curb he glanced one last time in the rearview mirror. His motives for wanting to stop by later were purely driven by his gut feeling.

  At least that’s what he told himself.

  *

  Cloe watched Donovan’s car drive away until it disappeared around the corner. Silly of her to feel alone in her own house, but it wouldn’t be the first time. Since she’d moved here she’d felt that way. Heck, she was alone. And he had dinner plans. He’d told her he wasn’t involved, but that didn’t mean he sat at home by himself every night like her. And the fact he didn’t mention who his dinner plans were with told her it was a date.

  Not liking the stab of jealousy, she turned away from the window and walked over to the kitchen counter to set the food down. Despite the heavenly smell, she had no appetite. Not after that phone call.

  It replayed in her head over and over. His voice. The threat. The pure viciousness in his tone. She’d known animosity in New York, but never had it been directed at her. Not like this.

  A shudder worked its way down her spine and she wrapped her arms around her waist. Best not to think about it. She’d only drive herself crazy and be afraid of her own shadow. That was no way to live and she refused to do it. He wanted to scare her and she couldn’t let him do it.

  Taking out one of the food containers, she quickly microwaved it then carried it into the living room and sat down to eat it. She turned on the television, not really watching as she ate. The box she picked had fluffy waffles with fresh strawberries and bananas, topped with homemade cream, powdered sugar and the maple syrup. On the side were eggs and potatoes. A meal fit for a king and way more than she could ever eat.

  Good thing Donovan got her out of there when he did or else she’d feel pressured to finish it. His mother seemed the type to stand over you and make sure you ate every last bite of her delicious food. An impossible task when her stomach churned like it did.

  Cloe set the mostly full container aside and lay down on the sofa, pulling the quilt over her. Her head pounded, much as it had since the accident. Now, more from lack of sleep than hitting the curb.

  She glanced at the clock, tired. She didn’t want to think about the phone call, the accident or how empty the house felt without Donovan’s presence.

  The thought made her chest ache with loss. Pulling the wrap tighter around her, she tried to push the twinge away and turned her attention to the TV.

  A Christmas show played. A romantic movie, no less. Salt in an open wound for her, but she was too tired to change the channel so she watched until her lids drifted closed.

  *

  A loud noise startled Cloe awake. She opened her eyes to darkness except for the dim glow of the television and the reflection of Christmas lights from her neighbors’ houses and yards. Reaching for the remote, she turned off the TV and sat up. What woke her up? Probably the neighbors coming home or letting the dog out.

  Rubbing her neck, she rose to her feet and groaned. Good Lord, her body felt battered. A long, hot bath sounded good to ease her sore muscles. She headed for the bathroom, stretching her aching muscles as she went.

  Something thumped against the back door. Cloe froze. Heart pounding, she looked toward the door. No shadow stood in front of it, but that didn’t mean no one was out there. Her cell sat on the coffee table right where she’d left it.

  Hoping it was just a stray dog or something equally innocent, she forced her legs to carry her to the door. She grabbed her cell phone on the way and flipped on a lamp next to the sofa. Soft light filled the room, making her feel less isolated.

  At the back door she drew a deep breath and pulled it open. Nothing there except an empty porch. Hesitant
, she stepped outside. No way would she be able to sleep unless she checked it out and made sure no one was out there.

  Slowly, she walked to the other end where it met the windowed tower. Admittedly, the tower had drawn her to the house in the first place.

  A warm breeze blew past, at odds with the colorful Christmas decorations surrounding her. Not seeing anyone or anything out of the ordinary, she turned and went back inside, locking the door behind her.

  Must have been the wind or a tree branch. Feeling a little spooked, she walked the house, making sure the windows and front door were locked. Of course they were; she’d done it earlier.

  Turning her back to the door, she looked around the house. She didn’t like not feeling safe in her own home. Rented or not.

  Convincing herself it had been the wind at the back door would take some doing. It sure had sounded like someone bumped against it. And nothing like that had ever happened before. What if the jerk who’d hit her found out where she lived? What if he came after her?

  Fear raced through her veins. Made her want to pack up and run like she had a year ago. Only this time it wouldn’t be outrunning her demons, it would be running from someone who wanted to hurt her.

  Her phone vibrated in her hand. Stifling a scream, she brought it to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Cloe? It’s Donovan.”

  Clamping a hand on her chest she said, “Donovan. Hi.”

  “Are you all right? You sound upset.”

  “I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting a call.”

  A pause. “Did something happen?”

  “No. Nothing. I was just getting ready to take a bath and go to bed.” Right, like she would be able to sleep anytime soon. As tired as she’d been, now she was wired.

  “I thought maybe I’d stop by. Check on you.”

  Her heart began to race for another reason. She wanted to see him again. And didn’t that raise all kinds of complications?

  She rubbed her forehead. “Um, it’s a little late. I’m fine, really.”

  “You don’t sound fine. Tell me what happened. Let me help.”

  Unless he could heal a broken heart and bring her family and fiancé back, he couldn’t help. She’d never leaned on anyone. Not even Lance. He’d liked that about her. Liked her independence. Then that autonomy cost her everything.