Redeeming the Billionaire SEAL(20)

Emma was fretful for the first time Holly could remember.

“What’s wrong with her?” Chance asked. “Is she sick?”

“I don’t think so,” Holly said. “I think it’s because she’s in strange surroundings. Maybe she’s picking up on my emotions.”

“You look dead on your feet.”

“Yeah. That’s pretty close.” She tried bouncing Emma on her knees, but to no avail. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done, Chance. I don’t know how any of us would have gotten through it were it not for you.” Especially last night, but she wasn’t going to bring that up. She wished the circumstances could have been different.

“You would have been fine.”

She shook her head but was too tired to argue. “I’m going to take Emma upstairs and see if I can get her to sleep.”

“All right. Get some sleep yourself. See you in the morning.”

Because of Emma’s fussiness, Holly let her play longer than usual in the big bathtub of the en suite where Holly was staying. Story time followed, and finally with a warm bottle of comfort milk, Emma fell asleep.

Holly ditched her dirty clothes and headed back into the bathroom. That jet tub had her name written all over it. Lying back, she let the jets massage away the weariness. An hour later, dressed in clean clothes and feeling a lot better, she jumped in the big bed, hoping tonight she could sleep. But sleep didn’t come easy. Chance wasn’t here tonight and there was no reason to ask him to be.

Still, the silk sheets felt amazing, especially compared with her sturdy cotton bedding at home. The thick silk comforter made a soft rustling sound when she moved; the fragrance in the room was a beautiful blend of cedar and honeysuckle. All of it served as a heady reminder that she was in the ranch mansion with Chance sleeping steps away.

She must have slept a while but before long, she was again wide-awake. The large house was quiet. Feeling thirsty, Holly slipped out of bed, checked on Emma, who was sleeping peacefully, and headed to the stairs. She should have thought to bring a glass into the bedroom before retiring, but then she rarely became thirsty during the night. It was nerves. Had to be.

The large timber joists crossing the top of the den and on the staircase were amazing from this elevated angle. At the bottom of the stairs she padded into the kitchen, found a glass and filled it with cool tap water.

Sipping the water, she meandered toward the huge den and the French doors that opened out onto the flagstone patio with the giant columns bordering the outside dining area, the lagoon-style pool and the large waterfall in the background. A splash drew her attention. Minutes later Chance’s head broke the surface of the water. He began to swim the length of the pool, back and forth, his powerful arms and his muscled legs propelling him at a fast pace. Curiosity got the better of her and she walked up next to the glass panes of the French doors.

He was magnificent, so powerful. Put all the sexier-than-hell ingredients into a bowl and stir. The final product was right in front of her. And his apparent unawareness of how he affected the female species just made it worse. Or better, as it were.

She set her glass on a nearby table, careful to make sure it wouldn’t leave a ring. When she looked again, Chance was coming out of the water.

Without one stitch of clothes on that hard, muscular body.

He grabbed a towel and began to dry himself off. Holly realized he was headed for the door, directly in front of where she stood. He was coming inside and she was standing there gawking. He hadn’t seen her yet. She turned, intending to make a break for it. But where? She’d waited too late to run up the stairs. There was no place to hide in the kitchen. She spun around and folded herself into the linen draperies framing the French doors.

Holly listened as Chance pulled open the door and closed it behind him. The lights came on in the kitchen. She heard movement. Then the lights went out and all was quiet. Peeking through a slit between two drapery panels, she saw him walking toward the stairs, one thick white towel fisted in his hand. His body was incredible. The muscles in his back moved beneath the tanned skin; his legs were equally well defined.

When he made it three steps up the stairs, he stopped. Holly held her breath. She didn’t want to be caught lurking, ogling a naked man, even if it was Chance. Especially if it was Chance. She snapped her head back, closing the tiny gap in the blinds, and made like a statue, barely allowing herself to breathe. After what seemed like hours, she again cautiously moved the panel aside. No sign of him on the stairs. No indication he was in the kitchen. She strained to listen and heard nothing. Feeling assured he must have gone on to another part of the large house, she stepped out from behind the drapery.

“Well, well,” he said, standing right next to her, one bulging arm braced on the wall. His gaze held her motionless. His lips pursed as he hid a smile. “It would appear we have a Peeping Tom.”

She could feel the deep blush run up her face and back down her neck. “No...no, you don’t. Me? You mean me? I was just going to the kitchen to get some water.” She knew her eyes were as big as saucers. “See?” She pointed to the small occasional table and the glass of water sitting on top.

A few droplets from his hair dripped onto his broad shoulders. She watched them trickle down over his chest.

“The kitchen is over there.”

“I know where the kitchen is,” she snapped back at him. “You scared me, that’s all.”

“I scared you? How exactly did I do that?”

“You were in the pool.”

“Oh. People swimming frightens you.”

“Nobody goes swimming at two o’clock in the morning. Especially without any... Especially outside.”

“Especially buck naked?” Yet again, those sexy dimples cracked the surface and that devilish bad-boy look danced in his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.”

He frowned and sidestepped until he was in front of her, placing his other hand against the wall on the other side of her and leaning in. He tilted his head, as if trying to figure something out. “You’re twenty-four. And you’re a doctor.”

“Almost.”

“And you know more about sex than I do. Isn’t that what you said? That first night in the barn?”

“I really don’t remember.”

“Uh-huh. So seeing a naked man cooling off in his own pool is no big deal. Right?”

She shrugged her shoulders, acting nonchalant. “Right.” Her chin jutted out as though daring him to contradict it. “So why are you making this such a big deal?”

“Me?” He adjusted his stance. “Sweetheart, I’m not the one hiding in the draperies.”

With an unhurried motion, he shook out the towel and draped it around his hips, tucking in the corner. “Better?”

“It doesn’t make any difference to me.”

“I wouldn’t have thought a grown woman—a doctor, no less—would be embarrassed by a little nudity.”

“It wasn’t a little nudity.”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head once again, suggesting she might want to explain that remark. The devilish light danced in his eyes.

“That’s not what I...I mean...” The blush returned, this time twice as strong, covering her face and neck. She even felt her ears burn. “You’re twisting what I say.”

“How am I doing that?”

Chance ventured closer to her and she couldn’t breathe. The awareness overwhelmed her once again, making little prickles dance over her skin, her senses excruciatingly acute.

Placing her hands against his broad chest, she attempted to push him back. Granite boulders the size of her house would be easier to move. His bare skin was cool at first touch but heated to a sweltering glow beneath her hands. “You’re in my space,” she snapped. “Please move back.”

“Why? I like being in your space.” A wicked smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I’ll share mine if you’ll share yours. Tit for tat. How about that?”

“This is ridiculous. I’m not having this conversation. It’s pointless and stupid.”

She heard his masculine chuckle as she spun on her toes, ducked under his arm and headed for the stairs.

“Maybe ridiculous is not what you’re feeling. Maybe frustration is a better description?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Then she caught herself. She was walking into his web. She raised her hand in a signal of stop. “You know what? I don’t want to know. Forget I asked. I’m not having this conversation.”

She paused at the bottom of the stairs, feeling a little bit safe now that she was a few feet away from him. “But if it was frustration—and I’m not saying that is true at all—you caused it. You probably did it on purpose.”

“So hiding in the drapes gawking at a naked man is my fault?” He barked out a laugh.

“You’re the SEAL, not me.”

Chance frowned and raised his hands to his hips. “You’re going to have to explain that one.”

“If you weren’t a SEAL you would never have known I was in the drapes and none of this would be happening.”

With a flip of her hair she again turned toward the stairs. She almost made it to the fourth step before she was scooped into his arms. And as soon as he turned around and crossed the threshold of the French doors, she knew where he was going.