SEALs of Chance Creek 01 - A SEAL's Oath

by Cora Seton

  Still, she didn’t dread the next six months so much anymore. Not since her friends had promised to stick by her, and not since she’d gotten to know Boone’s recruits. They’d been such good sports at the ball. It would be fun to have such a lively group so close to hand.

  Maybe it would be fun to live among them.

  As Riley took her turn in the lineup, she caught snatches of conversation.

  “…in charge of the hydroponics setup. We’ll use conventional gardens for most things, but hydroponics allows for more sensitive crops and the ability to extend the growing season nearly year round…” Angus was saying. Win, sitting next to him on a blanket spread on the ground, nodded her head and leaned nearer.

  “…so fascinated by solar technology,” Belinda was saying to Greg. “I had an array installed on my summer cottage.”

  “My great-uncle patented some of the basic solar technology,” Greg answered her.

  “Can’t wait to see the rest of it,” Avery was saying to Walker.

  “Happy to show you around,” Walker said.

  By the time she reached Boone, who’d taken over for Clay and Walker, she had reached a state of bemusement. She rested a hand on his shoulder. “What’s there to eat?”

  “Southwestern breakfast burritos.” He took a spoonful of the beans and rice and held it up for her to taste. Riley blew on it a time or two and took a mouthful.

  “Yum. That’s good.”

  “Your guests seem to like it.” He gestured at the crowd surrounding them and Riley had to agree the women were far happier than she’d seen them yet, despite the primitive surroundings.

  She found an empty corner of a blanket, sat down, balancing her plate on her lap, and studied Win and Angus surreptitiously. She was a little worried about the transformation in the woman as she chatted and laughed with the Scot. After all, she was due to be married soon.

  Choose wisely, she willed toward Win. Marriage was a serious business.

  She looked to Boone and was glad she’d found the man for her, even if they’d gotten off to a rocky start.

  Savannah sat down beside her. She had a burrito on her plate, but she didn’t take a bite of it.

  “Something wrong?” Riley asked her.

  “I can’t believe I’ve been so silly. I acted like if we took a break from our Regency life we wouldn’t be able to start it up again. I’ve been treating it like some gift from above, as if we didn’t make it happen ourselves. That’s not the case, is it? We managed to make it happen once. We can do it again. Meanwhile, we can be part of an interesting experiment.”

  “You think Base Camp is interesting?”

  “I didn’t realize how interesting until Jericho told me more about what they’re going to do. He’s really into alternative forms of energy and he’s good at explaining the science behind them.”

  Riley smiled. “Nice.”

  “There’s no piano down here.”

  “No, but there is at the manor. It’s not going anywhere.”

  “I guess I can still practice even if I can’t wear my gowns.” Savannah took a tentative bite of her food.

  Pleased to see her eating, Riley nodded. “I don’t see why not.”

  “What about Nora? Do you think she’ll be content while we wait?”

  Riley turned to watch her chatting with Clay. “I hope so.” It would be a shame if Fulsom’s demands kept her from a man she could love.

  “I still don’t think I can marry someone I just met.” Savannah’s gaze rested on Jericho.

  “You don’t have to decide anything today,” Riley told her.

  “We’re just a bunch of romantics, aren’t we?” Savannah asked.

  “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.”

  When Boone came to find her, Savannah shifted away so he could sit beside Riley.

  “This was a good idea,” she said.

  “I’m full of them. Wait until you see our new plans for the houses,” he said.

  “Will I like them?”

  “You’ll love them. But we can’t start building them until we start filming the show.”

  “I guess I’ll be part of the building crew, then.”

  “I’d like that.” Boone took a bite of his burrito. “They’re not the only plans I’ve been making.”

  “No? What else have you been working on?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He shook his head at her. “Don’t ask questions.”

  “Is it a good surprise?”

  “Definitely. Think you can put up with all of this for the next six months or so?” He indicated Base Camp and the people around them.

  “Yes. I think I can. The hard part is giving up our Regency experiment so soon. I’m afraid we’ll never go back to it, even when the show is over.”

  “I’ve got that covered, too. The day filming ends, I’ll burn all the modern clothes you’ve bought in the meantime. You’ll have no choice but to pull out your Regency duds again.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “Know what?” Riley said. “I think I already am.”

  WHEN THE WOMEN finally headed back up to the manor house to begin their preparations for the wedding, Boone asked Riley to stay behind.

  “I’ve got so much to do,” she protested as he took her hand and led her toward Pittance Creek.

  “Fifteen minutes. They can last without you that long.”

  “Boone.”

  He kept going. As soon as they reached the creek he pulled her close and claimed the kiss he’d been wanting all morning.

  “What was that for?” Riley asked when he finally let her go.

  “I’ve missed you,” he growled. “When are these women going home so I can have you all to myself?”

  “You’re greedy, you know that?” She wriggled in his arms, but Boone wasn’t about to let her go.

  “Yeah, I know that.” He kissed her again and reached into his pocket. Drawing out the little velvet box Rose had handed to him in the jewelry store, he opened it and sank to one knee. “Riley, I love you. You know what you’re getting if you marry me. A television show, a set of ridiculous goals, a whole lot of sustainability nonsense, and a scarred old Navy SEAL who should have been put out to pasture a long time ago. The only thing I can promise is that we’ll have sex a lot.”

  Riley laughed. “That’s your proposal?”

  “I’m not done yet.” He tugged her down to sit on his knee. “I promise to let you paint once in a while. I promise to cook for you over a fire whenever you’ve got a hankering for it. I promise I’ll buy you a horse. And when you’re ready, we’ll work on that kid thing again. Probably sooner rather than later. We’re kind of on the clock for that.”

  “I know.” Riley made a face.

  “I’m asking you to take a crazy ride with me these next six months. I promise after that it’ll get better.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay? Is that a yes?”

  “That’s a yes.”

  “You’ll be my wife?”

  “I’ll be your wife.”

  “Well, hot damn!” He slid the ring on her finger. “I love you, you know.”

  “I love you, too.” She sighed happily as she looked at the diamond sparkling on her hand. She loved the old-fashioned ring Boone had chosen. “Now I need to plan our wedding.”

  “No, you don’t.” He kissed her on the nose. “Leave it up to me. I’ve got it covered.”

  WHEN RILEY STOOD up, Boone knew she wanted to get back to help prepare for Andrea’s wedding, but he wasn’t done with her yet. “Uh-uh, not so fast.”

  “It’s been fifteen minutes.”

  “It’s been ten at the most.”

  “Boone.”

  He pulled her close. “It’s been far too long since we’ve been together.”

  “It’s been five hours.”

  “Seven. At least.” He slid his hands to her waist and then lower still, curving them over her bottom.

&n
bsp; “We don’t have time for that.”

  “We still have five minutes.”

  “Even you couldn’t be that fast.”

  “Ouch.” He kneaded her skin through the layers of her clothing. “I can be fast. What about you?”

  “For heaven’s sake—”

  He began to lift her skirts.

  “I’m not taking off my clothes,” she warned him.

  “You don’t have to. Except for this.” He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and tugged them down. When Riley stepped out of them he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He stashed the bit of silk in his pocket and scanned the banks of the creek. Spotting what he was looking for, he directed her toward a birch tree that forked at about shoulder height. “Hold on.” He lifted her hands above her head and she took hold of a wide branch. Boone shucked off his pants and boxer briefs, and lifted her dress again. “Can you keep this up?”

  She let go with one hand, arranged the folds of her dress, shift and petticoat over her arm and took hold again. “No one better see us.”

  “They won’t.” Boone let his gaze trail over her body. She was a sight for sore eyes.

  “Boone.”

  “Here I am.” Coming up behind her, her ran his hands up her waist to her breasts, but they were still encased by her stays. He did his best to dip his fingers under the neckline of her dress and find her nipples, but it was difficult at best to gain the access he wanted. He’d have to try again tonight when the wedding was over. Meanwhile there were other parts of Riley’s body he wanted to explore.

  He pushed her legs apart with his, tugged her back so she was bent at the waist and ducked down between her legs. When his tongue found her core, Riley whimpered. “Oh, that’s good.”

  “Yes, it is.” Despite the need to hurry, Boone took his time, savoring Riley. He loved the way she tasted and the way he could elicit moans from her with the touch of his fingers and tongue.

  “It’s been more than five minutes,” Riley gasped. Her legs were trembling and she rocked her hips against him as he played with her. He knew she was ready.

  So was he.

  He stood up, sheathed himself in a condom, and pressed into her from behind, wrapping his arms around her and teasing her with his hand at the same time.

  She sighed as he stroked in and out of her again. She felt so good he wished he could stay like this for hours.

  “Boone,” Riley breathed.

  He knew what she wanted. Riley liked it fast and hard. He did, too. He sped up and Riley hung on to the branch for dear life. He kept his hand between her legs, knowing the added sensation would soon drive her over the edge. When Riley came, she cried out and slammed back against him. Boone bucked with his own release, spurred on by her cries. His orgasm was long and hard, and by the time he was done, Riley was clinging to the branch, her head hanging down.

  “Are you okay?” Boone grew concerned.

  “Better than okay. That was the best… ever. I just need to catch my breath.”

  Boone tightened his arms around her. “Lots more where that came from.”

  “Thank God.” She straightened, let go of the branch and shook out her arms. “I don’t suppose we could do that again now.”

  “No time.” He kissed her. “But I’m at your service whenever you like. We can get it on while Andrea and her fiancé take care of all that nonsense up at the altar.”

  “No, we can’t.” Riley was scandalized. “We’ll wait until they’re cutting the cake.”

  “It’s a date.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‡

  “HOW IS OPERATION Regency Wedding going?” Jericho asked a couple of hours later when Boone joined him in the entryway to the biggest barn on the property. A few days ago it had been a dark, dank structure musty with the smell of old hay. Since then, under Mia’s instructions, Boone had set the men to cleaning it up in preparation for the wedding. They’d even given the interior a whitewash. The building was fresh, clean, and strung with lights powered by solar panels on the roof; it made a perfect rustic wedding venue.

  Hay bales, liberally topped with quilts they’d borrowed from all the farmhouses around, would act as benches during the short wedding ceremony, and then be lined up at the trestle tables they would use for the meal. Later they’d form overflow seating around the dance floor once the tables had been disassembled. Boone couldn’t be happier with the plan that Riley had presented him. She and Mia had managed to combine Regency opulence with downhome sustainable practices for this wedding. The result would be unique.

  “I think it’ll do just fine for the reception. Once Riley and the women get through decorating, it’ll look great.”

  “Can you believe we start shooting the show in a week?” Jericho said.

  “No. I can’t believe I’ll be marrying Riley either.”

  “She’s still not wearing your ring. I noticed at breakfast.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I proposed for real this morning. She’s wearing my ring now.” Boone glanced around. “I’ve got to go grab a ladder; Riley’s coming with more garlands.” He turned away, but Jericho whacked him on the arm to get his attention.

  “Who’s that?” He pointed to a limousine pulling into the driveway.

  “Must be a wedding guest.” It was hours early, though. The ceremony wasn’t due to start until four and Boone had a feeling Riley would freak out if people came before it was time. A driver got out and opened the rear passenger door. Boone bit back a curse when he saw who emerged.

  “That’s Fulsom.”

  “It can’t be—he’s not coming until June.”

  “That’s him all right.”

  A woman climbed out after him. Boone recognized Fulsom’s secretary, Julie. Together they surveyed the ranch. Boone could only imagine how it looked to a stranger’s eyes. His men were dressed in work clothes: jeans, boots, T-shirts, and work gloves. Riley and her friends had just approached carrying baskets overflowing with linens. The table runners, he surmised. The women looked fresh and pretty in their walking gowns—Boone had to chuckle that he now knew the designations for their various outfits—but to someone unfamiliar with them, they must seem a bizarre apparition.

  “Boone? Boone Rudman? What the holy hell is going on here?” Fulsom’s booming voice cut through all the activity.

  “Fulsom!” Boone strode forward to meet him before the man could lose his cool. “We didn’t expect you for another week.”

  “Obviously not or I wouldn’t have interrupted this… tea party. Who the hell are they?” He gestured to the women, who had halted in their tracks at Fulsom’s angry exclamations.

  “That’s my fiancée in the lead, so keep a civil tongue in your head.”

  “What’s she doing in that getup?”

  At least Fulsom had lowered his voice. Boone did the same. “Like I told you, my fiancée is a fan of Jane Austen. She’s hosting a Regency wedding this weekend.”

  “I told you, no way in hell does that play with Middle America. Put a stop to it right now.”

  All conversation ceased around them as Fulsom’s words rang out.

  “We are putting a stop to it for the duration of the television show, which doesn’t start filming for a week.” Boone hoped Fulsom caught the steel beneath his words.

  “I don’t think you understand what’s happening here, Boone.” Fulsom leaned closer. “I’ve invested millions of dollars to bring your community to life and televise the process around the world. If I show up a little early, we start filming a little early. If you can’t take this seriously, let’s cut the cord right now.”

  “I am taking it seriously,” Boone growled. “We all are. We’ve worked our asses off to get ready for you—when you arrive in June.”

  “Doesn’t look like it. What the hell have you done to this barn?” He stalked over to it and peered in.

  “We’re preparing for a wedding which is going to take place in about five hours. We can’t film today.” B
oone wanted to drop kick Fulsom into the next week, but he tried to keep control of his temper. He sensed the rest of his men gathering around him. He knew they wouldn’t be pleased with Fulsom’s tirade, either.

  “Whose wedding. Yours?”

  “No.” Boone struggled for control. “The bride and groom are my fiancée’s guests.”

  Fulsom heaved a big sigh. “I don’t expect this kind of incompetence from a Navy SEAL.”

  “And I don’t expect this kind of rudeness from a billionaire.”

  Fulsom cocked his head—and then guffawed. “All right, all right. Jesus, Boone, learn to take a joke.”

  Boone bit back another angry answer. If Fulsom wanted to find a way out of the corner he’d backed himself into, he’d give him room to turn around.

  As the man scanned the activity around him, Boone could practically hear the gears in his brain turning. “Okay—a wedding. This is good. We can use this,” Fulsom said. “We’ll film it; it’ll be a before sequence to show how the ranch was used in the past.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Boone said diplomatically.

  “Of course it’s a good idea.” Fulsom clapped his hands together and men and women spilled out of a second vehicle that had just arrived. Within minutes they were unloading video equipment. “All right, folks,” Fulsom shouted. “We’ve got a wedding at oh-four-hundred hours. I want shots of the preparations, cameras capturing every angle. Let’s get those waivers signed.”

  “Boone, make him stop.” Riley, who’d so far hung back, rushed up to him. “He can’t film Andrea’s wedding.”

  Fulsom turned on her. “Why not?” he demanded.

  “It’s a private wedding. A Regency wedding. I’ll be wearing a historical gown, as will the bride, all her bridesmaids and most of my female guests.”

  “And I’ll be wearing a replica uniform, as will most of the men present,” Boone added.

  Fulsom paused, apparently taken aback. “We can change that,” he said, clapping again. “Wardrobe!”

  “We’re not going to change it,” Riley said.

  “The lady’s right. Nothing’s going to change.” Boone backed her up.

  “Do I need to remind you who’s footing the bill for your experiment?” Fulsom stepped closer.