“That bandage needs changing.” Reluctantly, he let her go.
“I was going to take a bath anyway. I’ll change it after I’m done.”
Donovan smothered a groan. Staying here just might decimate him. “Let me know if you need help with the bandage.”
Once Cloe disappeared into the bathroom, he pulled out his cell and called Jack. Darci wouldn’t sleep until she knew everything was okay and he knew his buddy needed rest after their last deployment.
Jack answered on the second ring.
“All clear,” Donovan said.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on? Darci is in the shower.”
“The asshole who hit Cloe made a threatening call to her earlier. Veiled, but still a threat.”
“What’d he say?”
“Told her to watch her back.”
“What the hell is this guy’s deal?”
Donovan rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. He’s a hothead. Could be blowing steam, but I’m not taking any chances. From the looks of it Cloe is alone out here.”
“How’d he track her down?”
“I’m guessing he picked up her cell phone and wallet, because we never found it.”
“Damn. Well, we’ve got your back if shit gets serious.”
‘We’ meant the team. His brothers. Even during their leave they would jump in to help, no questions asked.
“Thanks.” He heard a woman’s voice in the background. Then Darci came on the phone.
“Tell me she’s okay.”
“She’s okay.”
“Good. Are you staying with her tonight?”
Donovan heard Jack muttering in the background and smiled. Darci was a feisty one and perfect for his laid-back friend.
“I am.”
“On the couch? She’s been through a lot.”
More muttering from Jack, then noise on the phone as Darci said something to Jack he couldn’t hear.
Darci came back on. “Okay, I got the scoop from Jack. I’ll let you go now. And don’t forget, you’re bringing biscotti for the party.”
Damn. He’d forgotten Darci had roped him into making his biscotti. His specialty. None of his family made it like he did and he always baked a few batches when he was home. Mostly for his dad, who loved biscotti and had taught him to make it.
“I won’t forget,” he promised. “Buonanotte tesoro mio.”
“God, I love it when you speak Italian.” He could hear Darci’s smile in her voice. “What did you say?”
Jack came on the phone. “Stop flirting with my wife.” His tone was light and teasing, not at all upset. “Catch ya later, buddy. I’m taking my wife to bed.”
Donovan chuckled when he heard Darci squeal before the line went dead. Jack was one of the lucky ones. He’d found a woman who would stay by his side through thick and thin. She’d never leave in the middle of deployment. It wasn’t Darci’s style and she loved Jack. What they’d gone through in the Caribbean left no doubt in anyone’s mind they were destined to stay together for life.
A twinge of jealousy hit him. He couldn’t be happier for his teammate, but it stung because he’d tried to have that and failed.
His phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen. Angela. “What’s up, Ang?”
“Darci called me and told me you left early because something happened with Cloe. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, good. You’re staying with her tonight, right?”
Did everyone want to know where he was staying tonight? “Yes. On the couch.”
“Not what I was asking, big brother. But, probably a good idea. For now.”
Donovan groaned. “Don’t even think about matchmaking. I swear, you and Darci are more trouble than you’re worth.”
“You still love us,” Angela said. “I’ll let you out of this one because you just got home. You still planning on going to the Christmas Eve party?”
“I’m bringing the biscotti.”
“I got antipasto.”
He chuckled, knowing his sister was the only one in the family who hated to cook. “If you’re nice I’ll help you make it.”
“Deal.”
God, he loved his sister. His chest swelled. “It’s good to be home, sis.”
Ang said softly, “We’re happy you’re home too. This Christmas we celebrate big.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Take care of Cloe. She needs someone.”
She disconnected and he stared at his phone for a second before sliding it into his pocket. Cloe needed someone to look after her, but that was as far as it could go. No matter how much he wanted to explore the attraction he felt.
****
Feeling more relaxed, Cloe climbed out of the tub and wrapped in a thick bath towel. Well, her muscles were more relaxed but her nerves were edgy knowing Donovan was right outside the door and he was spending the night.
Again.
A new record for her since Lance’s passing. And darn it, she shouldn’t be anticipating spending time with him. Her heart couldn’t take another break and with Donovan being a Navy SEAL his world screamed uncertainty.
Only a fool would fall for a man whose career could end his life at any moment.
Pushing those thoughts away, she towel-dried her hair and changed into her pajamas. Drawstring shorts and a tank top, since nights remained pretty warm here. So different from winter in New York.
A twinge shot through her chest. Her first green Christmas. She’d always loved the holiday in New York. The city lit up at night was breath-taking.
Sobering, she ran her fingers through her hair. Christmas held no good memories for her anymore. Only grief. Good thing it didn’t snow here or she’d be in real trouble.
Satisfied the tangles were out of her hair, Cloe walked out of the bathroom to find Donovan stretched out on the sofa watching a sports channel. For a moment she paused to stare at him. One jean-clad leg crooked on the floor and the other dangled over the arm of the couch. His hands were stacked behind his head, the remote resting on his broad chest. The navy t-shirt he wore stretched nicely over his muscular frame.
He looked as good in jeans and t-shirt as he did dress slacks and white shirt. And she’d thought him incredibly handsome in dress clothes. This relaxed, rugged side to him only made her nerves go even crazier.
It had been a long time since a man had looked good to her.
“Hey,” Donovan said. “Feel better?”
“Much. I’ll go grab some bedding for you.” Anything to get away from temptation. And, goodness, he was tempting.
She escaped into her bedroom to get a pillow and blankets, taking longer than necessary, but her darn heart wouldn’t slow down. How could a man’s presence make her respond so intensely? That had never happened before. Not even with Lance.
Unsure how to process that, she carried the bedding out to him. He rose to his feet with grace and agility, reaching for the stack in her hands.
“I can make up the sofa for you,” she offered.
“Nah, I got it. Go on to bed, you look exhausted.”
She was tired. Maybe now she would sleep knowing he protected her and no one would get past him.
If anyone tried. For their sakes, she hoped no one had and she’d heard an animal on the porch.
“Let me know if you need anything.” She headed back to her room, closing the door behind her. But only after she tore her eyes away from the sight of Donovan making a bed, muscles in his back and arms rippling.
Leaning back against the door, she drew in a deep breath. If she wasn’t careful she’d do something stupid like invite him into her bed. And not to sleep.
Oh, boy.
Maybe sleep wouldn’t be so easy tonight.
Chapter Five
With a groan, Donovan pushed to his feet. He’d slept in worse places than Cloe’s couch, but that thing was worse than a medieval torture rack. A glance at his watch showed five a.m. Just like clockwork,
he woke up the same time every morning.
He didn’t have a change of clothes with him or he’d go through his morning workout. He could slip home, grab his things, and return in under fifteen minutes. Routine meant everything for him. Missing it would throw his entire day off. He’d already missed yesterday by staying up all night with Cloe.
After a few seconds of debate, he decided to leave a note for her, and hurried out the door. He could workout at her house; he just needed clean clothes to put on afterward.
At his car, he stopped short, a rock sinking in his gut. Someone had slashed his tires. He walked slowly around the car. All four of them. And not only once. They had been shredded. A vicious act, not a prank.
Donovan scanned the quiet street. Most of the cars were parked in the owner’s driveway or garage. Only a couple sat on the street. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. None of the Christmas decorations had been bothered and the cars he could see didn’t have flat tires.
His car had been the target.
Cloe had definitely heard something last night. The bastard who did this had probably been on her back porch. If it was the guy who’d hit her then he had something to go on. Donovan would track him down to the ends of the earth if he was making good on his threats to Cloe. He would not allow the scumbag to intimidate her. Hell, he wouldn’t let him harm one more hair on her head.
Gripping his keys in his hand, he turned on a heel and strode back into the house. He locked the door behind him and pulled out his cell. His brothers were going to have to cover for him at the restaurant for a few days, because he wasn’t leaving Cloe’s side until he got rid of the danger.
After calling Luciano he made a call to tow company to have his car serviced, then made a pot of coffee. Energy thrummed though his body, searching for an outlet. He could run to his house from here, but it would take too long to get there and back. And running in jeans didn’t appeal all that much.
Leaving Cloe alone appealed even less.
“Good morning.”
Donovan turned to see Cloe standing just outside her bedroom door, wrapped in a silk robe that fell mid-thigh. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, slightly tousled. Stunning.
“You’re up early,” he said, tearing his eyes off her long, shapely legs.
“So are you.” Her lips tilted in a tiny smile. “I’m usually up by six. Habit from when I worked—” She stopped abruptly, dropping her gaze.
“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.
A SEAL for Christmas (Novella) Page 5
