SEALs of Winter: A military romance superbundle

by Seton, Cora

  “Worked…?”

  “Never mind. It’s not important now. Is that coffee I smell?”

  He’d never met a woman who kept her secrets hidden so well. She didn’t talk about her life, past or present. Just left impressions that something painful had happened to make her close off.

  He wanted to uncover her secrets. Find out what happened to her. Make her smile. A real smile, not the halves he’d been getting.

  She walked over to the coffee pot and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. Evading the conversation, but he wasn’t ready to give it up yet.

  “What time do you need to leave for work?”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “I don’t. I work freelance from home.” She brought a cup over to him. “You’re pushy even in the morning.”

  Donovan couldn’t help but grin. “That’s what my máthair always said.” He took a drink. “So, what kind of freelance work do you do?”

  They moved to the dining room table and sat. Cloe played with the handle on her mug before speaking.

  “I’m an advertising copywriter. I create marketing campaigns and advertisements for businesses to help increase traffic, boost profits, and raise their own awareness to the public. Most of my accounts are for small businesses.”

  “So you’re a creative type. Would I know any of your work?”

  She stared down into her coffee. “Like I said, most of my accounts are small.”

  Humble and beautiful. Or hiding something. He got the impression it was the latter. She still wouldn’t let him in. Damn it, he wanted in. As dangerous as that was.

  He lived with danger. Why stop now?

  “You like what you do?” he asked, steering his thoughts back to the conversation.

  Something flitted across her face. That same sadness he’d seen a few times now. Somehow it connected with her job. One way or another, he’d get to the bottom of her secrets.

  He’d never wanted anything more.

  “It pays the bills,” she said, sipping her coffee.

  Ferreting out a tango in the mountains was easier than getting information from this woman. Damn, but he liked a challenge.

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  She shifted in her chair. “Yes, I like the work. Happy now?”

  Her scowl made him stifle a grin. As much as he wanted to continue to push through her walls, he needed to get rid of some of this restless energy. “Do you have a car?”

  Her brows lifted in surprise. “It’s in the garage. I haven’t driven it in a while.” She stopped, her surprise morphing into a frown. “Why?”

  “I need to borrow it so I can run over to my place and grab some things.”

  Her cup landed on the table with a light thunk. “What’s wrong with your car?”

  He’d rather not tell her, but he wouldn’t hide anything from her. “Someone slashed my tires.”

  Those sexy lips opened in a gasp. “I can’t believe this. I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault. I’ve already made arrangements to have it serviced, but it won’t be finished until this afternoon.”

  She nodded. “Absolutely, you can use my car. Take it to work. Don’t worry about returning it until after your shift.”

  Amused, he leaned back in his chair. “I have the next few days off and you’re coming with me to my place.”

  “Why—no, I’m not.”

  “The threat against you has escalated from just a phone call. This guy knows where you live and I’m staying right here until that threat is eliminated.”

  The color drained from her face. “This isn’t your problem.”

  “He slashed my tires. It’s my problem.”

  “He probably thought it was my car. You don’t need to stay.”

  He leaned forward and covered her hand with his. Just so he could touch her. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got yourself a shadow until I can take care of this guy.”

  She met his gaze. “How do you plan on doing that? He hasn’t done anything to warrant involving the police.”

  “I’m reporting the tire incident to the local PD. Better to have a record of events until we can make a case.”

  “Good idea.”

  Her hand fisted beneath his. “All I want you to do is go on with your life as if nothing has changed. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  She dipped her head, an expression he couldn’t read crossing her face.

  “I don’t like taking you away from your family. I don’t imagine you get much time with them.”

  “I see my family plenty. Don’t worry about it.”

  “But, it’s almost Christmas. I refuse to keep you away from them this time of the year.”

  Might as well tell her about Darci’s party coming up. “We’ll work that out when the time comes. We do have arrangements on Christmas Eve, though.”

  That brought her head up. “What arrangements?”

  “My SEAL buddy and his wife are throwing a party for the team on Christmas Eve. It won’t be huge, just the team and some family and friends.”

  “How do you know you’ll still be here by then?”

  He laced her fingers through his. “I don’t. But, I’d like you to go with me. No matter where we are.”

  There it was. The first step toward his demise. It wasn’t a lie. Regardless of what happened between now and the party, he wanted Cloe there with him. And not as someone he had to watch over.

  Ah, damn. This fall was going to be a hard one. Worse than Jill.

  “You mean, as a date?” Cloe asked hesitantly.

  He looked her straight in the eye. “Yes.”

  She bit down on her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth. Not a good thing for him. Made him want to taste those gorgeous lips.

  He jerked his gaze up to hers. “I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to the party, cara.”

  *

  “Yes,” Cloe whispered.

  Darn it, that Italian got her ever time. The endearment rolled off Donovan’s tongue like dark chocolate, sweet and sinful. Like the man.

  What was she thinking saying yes to a date? On Christmas Eve, no less. The stress of the accident must be scrambling her brain. Stealing her good sense and making her agree to things she couldn’t possibly follow through on.

  Her parents had always thrown a party on Christmas Eve. Inviting the entire neighborhood for drinks and dinner and a good time. And it had been. As a kid she’d played with the neighbor kids until midnight, when her mother held her special ceremony of opening a gift. Kind of like a secret Santa exchange. Everyone who came brought a gift; never had they been short. How her mother planned such a big event and had it go off every year without a hitch was beyond Cloe. But, that had been her mother. The world’s best hostess.

  Until last year when Cloe decided to change tradition and treat her parents to a weekend vacation at a mountain ski lodge. She’d had it all planned. Booked the best suites the lodge had. One for her parents, one for her and Lance. She’d even sent the presents early so she and her parents could include Lance in at least one of their Christmas traditions and open one at midnight.

  It had taken some doing to get her mom to agree not to have her annual party, but Cloe’s promotion gave them reason to celebrate and her mom had never been able to say no to her. So she had agreed to skip it this year with the promise that they make it up to their friends the next year. Pleased, Cloe had agreed.

  Her chest tightened. That familiar ache gripped her.

  What had she done? She couldn’t go to a Christmas Eve party. Not without remembering what she’d done. What she’d lost because of that promotion.

  No, she’d have to find a way out of it. Tell Donovan she couldn’t go because…well, she’d come up with something.

  Damn the part of her that wanted to go. Her hormones would just have to deal. They didn’t understand how painful it would be for her. How she had promised her mother they would throw the annual Christmas Eve party together, even when Cloe knew she’d be
too busy to help. How this party should be at her parents’ house and they should be opening presents at midnight surrounded by friends. Her friends. The friends she grew up with. Her family and fiancé.

  Not as a date with a man she’d just met who knew nothing of what had happened to her last Christmas.

  A man she desperately wanted to get to know better. Who had a big, wonderful family that reminded her of those Christmas Eve parties because those people had felt like her family. She’d grown up with them. Dated the neighbor boy, found her best friend three doors down.

  Then she’d dropped her best friend like she’d never existed after the accident. She’d dropped everyone. Now she had no one and it was all her fault.

  “We can discuss the details later,” Donovan said. “For now, I need to get to my place.”

  “I’ll get changed.”

  Thankful for the excuse to escape her thoughts, she hurried to her bedroom and closed the door. She’d find a way to get out of her date.

  Somehow.

  Remorse replaced the ache in her chest as she changed into a pair of jeans and short-sleeved shirt. It wasn’t until she looked in the mirror that she realized the dark blue of her blouse matched Donovan’s eyes.

  Yep. She was in trouble. The man occupied her thoughts day and night. Proof, by the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep last night. As much as she’d tried, she couldn’t rest peacefully knowing a handsome man slept on her couch. Add to that the stress of everything since the accident. She was a mess.

  She looked it too. The bandage on her forehead stuck out like a sore thumb. Her skin too pale. Not even makeup would cover what she’d suffered.

  With a groan, she slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops. Then ran a brush through her hair, touched up her eyes and lips with a little makeup to help cover the effects everything was taking on her.

  And to think she’d once rolled with the punches so gracefully, she’d earned a huge promotion at the ad agency she worked for. One of the biggest in New York. Her ads for a nation-wide supermarket chain were still being used, haunting her every time she turned on the television or entered the store.

  Donovan waited for her when she came out. His eyes ran over her, slowly, as if he enjoyed looking at her. Even in jeans. Did his gaze linger a little long on her legs?

  Breathless, she said, “My car is this way.”

  She grabbed her keys off the hook by the door leading into the garage and handed them to Donovan. She hadn’t driven since she parked the car in the garage, and with her jittery nerves she didn’t want to drive now.

  What was it about Donovan that made her so nervy?

  Maybe because the man was pure, gorgeous male with good manners and the grace of a king? Or because when he touched her little sparks shot through her. Whatever it was, she had to steer clear of it. Losing another person she loved would end her.

  Cloe stumbled on the step leading to the garage. Love? She was getting way ahead of herself here.

  Donovan reached out and cupped her elbow to steady her and lead her down the last step. “Okay?” he asked. “Not feeling dizzy, are you?”

  She shook her head. “Just missed a step, thanks.”

  He led her around to the passenger side and opened the door so she could climb in. To her relief the sedan started right up.

  It only took a few minutes to reach his house, which wasn’t at all what she expected. A one-story Victorian on a quiet street of houses decorated for Christmas. All except his.

  As he pulled into the paved driveway she murmured, “You haven’t decorated for Christmas.”

  “Just got home from deployment,” he said as he came around to help her out of the car.

  His hand was on her back again, guiding her up the three steps to his beautiful front doors. Mostly glass, with a stained glass window above.

  He let her go in first. His home definitely belonged to a man. Black leather furniture and recliners, flat screen TV and hardwood floors without rugs. The floors looked original, as did the wood trim. Surprisingly, he had plants thriving all around the house. How did he keep them with his career and restaurant?

  “How do you keep your plants alive?” she asked as he closed the door behind them.

  “I don’t. My mom and sisters water them while I’m gone.”

  A green thumb she didn’t have, but the fact his family helped him out made her long for her mother. Before the feeling overtook her, she pushed it down.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll go pack a bag quick.”

  He disappeared through the closed door to the left and seconds later reappeared and held out a small gold pin. She took it, intrigued by the golden eagle clutching a U.S. Navy anchor, trident, and some kind of pistol.

  “My trident. Proof I’m the real deal. I received it after completing BUD/s.”

  “BUD/s?”

  “Basic Underwater Demolitions/SEAL. Hardest six months of my life.”

  She ran a finger over the eagle. This badge represented honor and strength. Like the man who earned it. He’d stepped up to protect her, knowing nothing about her, and she couldn’t deny that unwavering sense of duty attracted her.

  Before she got in over her head, she handed it back. “Thank you.”

  He winked at her and her belly fluttered.

  “Happy to serve. Be right back.”

  Within minutes they were back in the car, returning to her house. After being in Donovan’s house, she realized how lonely her house really was. No family pics. No reminders of the past and the biggest mistake of her life. She had a box of keepsakes; she just hadn’t been able to find the courage to open it.

  “I need to get some work done,” she said, needing a distraction from her thoughts. And from the gorgeous man standing next to her.

  “I’m going to change and go for a run. Will you be all right by yourself for a little bit? I’ll carry my cell in case you need me.”

  “I’ll be fine. Take your time.”

  She’d spent the last year alone. She could handle an hour.

  Cloe walked over to her desk in the corner of the living room and sat down. Donovan changed in the bathroom while she booted up her computer. Her situation had changed drastically and she didn’t know how to process it.

  Hoping work would ground her, she logged on and focused on her newest account instead of the handsome man sharing her home.

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  A knock on the door brought Donovan’s head up from where he lounged on the sofa watching a replay of yesterday’s football game. Felt good to sit back and relax and watch a game. He missed the day-to-day benefits of being a civilian.

  Cloe started to rise from her chair where she’d been most of the day. He didn’t mind. Work seemed to relax her so he let her be.

  Figuring it was the tow company returning his car, he rose from the couch. “I got it.”

  She nodded and sat back down, her attention once again turned to her computer screen. He unlocked the door and opened it after a cursory glance out to see who was there.

  “Máthair,” he said, leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  “Dia duit, son. I’ve brought tea and biscuits.”

  “Come in.” He stood aside so she could step inside. She looked around before saying, “Where are the Christmas decorations?”

  “Mrs. Demarco,” Cloe said, joining them. “What a surprise.”

  “Dia duit, Cloe.”

  Cloe glanced at him with a slight frown.

  “Mom brought tea and biscuits and she said hello,” he translated.

  “Oh, how nice. Please, come in and have a seat.”

  His mom handed her bags to him and followed Cloe to the dining room table. He trailed behind, hearing his mother ask again about the decorations. At Cloe’s lost expression he broke in.

  “Cloe’s been busy with work. Like me, she hasn’t had time to decorate.”

  Relief crossed Cloe’s face as she sat down across from his mother. His mot
her nodded in understanding.

  “Donovan, will you brew the tea, please?”

  He went into the kitchen to make the tea the way his mom had taught him, keeping an eye on the women at the table. Cloe looked uncomfortable even though his mother had a way of putting people at ease.

  “So tell me what kind of work you do,” his mom said.

  Neutral ground. Good.

  “I’m a freelance copywriter. I work on marketing materials, such as writing brochures, direct mail, press releases, ads, things like that.”

  Donovan put the kettle under the tap and filled it with cold water, then set it on the stove to boil.

  “You know, dear, Roman—that’s my husband. I think you met him at the restaurant.”

  Cloe nodded and his mother continued.

  “We have been talking about giving our menu a makeover. Roman, see, he likes to keep everything authentic, from the old world. But, my son, Luciano, who does most of the cooking with his wife Camila, prefers to add a more modern touch to his dishes.” She waved her hands. “I’m forever breaking up arguments between the two of them about what should be served on our menu. Maybe you could help solve our problem.”

  “I’m not sure how I can help,” Cloe said, shifting in her chair.

  “Well, if I give you a menu, maybe you could put your talent to work and design something new that accommodates both my husband and my son.”

  Donovan found three mugs and dropped a tea bag in each one. His mother’s intentions were good, but his dad and Luciano had been at each other for years about the future of the restaurant. His dad had an iron grip on the past and Luciano was stubborn as a bull. They had yet to find a happy middle.

  The ‘menu’ issue had been a thorn in everyone’s side ever since Luciano started sneaking his own dishes onto the daily specials. The customers loved everything his brother made, but his dad just wouldn’t take that step into the modern world.

  “If you brought me the old menu and the changes you’d like made, I might be able to come up with something.”

  The teapot whistled. But Donovan was too busy staring at the beautiful woman who’d agreed to help solve a family issue. The genuine look in her eyes made his chest swell with pride. She didn’t say yes because she felt pressured. She wanted to help.