“There’s a washer and dryer in a utility room behind the kitchen. You can dry your things there.”
“Okay. What about your jeans?”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Holly held out her hand, palm up, her fingers waving in a gesture of “give them here.” “Give.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You need dry clothes.” She tilted her head, defying him to argue with logic. When Chance didn’t respond, she said, “Now who’s suddenly playing Mr. Modest? Sounds like a dare is needed. Let’s see...”
“You are just about the most ornery woman I’ve ever met in my entire existence.”
“Funny. That’s exactly what I say about you. Give me your pants.”
Shaking his head, he headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later he poked one hand outside the door and dumped his muddy clothes onto the floor.
“I’m covered in mud. Gonna take a shower.”
Holly grabbed his jeans, picked up his shirt and her clothes and headed for the laundry room. Every article of clothing was caked with mud. If she didn’t wash them, they would be ruined. Tossing everything into the washer, she added the detergent and hit the button. She returned to the den just as Chance was adding a couple of logs to the fire. He’d found an old pair of jeans from somewhere. The warmth spread out into the room, giving it a cozy, inviting feeling.
Holly idled around the room. In one corner a painting of the three Masters brothers sat on an easel.
“Did your mother paint this?”
“Yeah.”
She had captured each of their characters beautifully. Wade, the eldest, with that stern, in-charge face even when he was about fifteen. Something about the brown eyes softened his features, making him appear a little less arrogant. The picture showed his strength and determination. Confidence. He was very much in charge. Next to Wade was Cole, the middle son. At fourteen, he had a straightforward grin and his honey-brown eyes sparkled. He’d always had the tendency to see the humor in the world. He never appeared to take anything all that seriously, a trait that duped a lot of people. He was as sharp and cunning as a fox, something business adversaries discovered after it was too late. Holly had heard Cole was one hell of a negotiator. She had no reason to doubt it.
Then there was Chance, the playboy of the three: the impossibly handsome bad boy, adorable even at the tender age of ten. All of the brothers had had their fair share of women ogling them since they’d reached adolescence, but from what her brother told her, Chance had latched on with both hands. Once again, Elaine had captured him perfectly. There was a distinct difference between Chance and his brothers. His vivid blue eyes glowed in contrast to their brown. His hair was a bit lighter in color. Even so long ago, Chance had been unique.
“There is coffee in the kitchen,” he said. “On the counter to the right of the sink. The cups are in the cabinet above it.
“Thanks.”
When she came back with her steaming brew, Chance reached out to his own coffee cup he’d set on the edge of the stone hearth. He took a sip and put it back down, never taking his focus off the letter in his hand. Suddenly, with the small fire blazing behind him and his face drawn in concentration, she was looking at Lieutenant Commander Chance Masters, US Navy SEAL. Serious. Strong in both mind and body. Of above-average intelligence with a physique to back up any immediate, life-threatening decisions he made. It must have been how he’d looked planning his team’s next mission down to the last detail. They counted on him and he was there for them.
He always would be.
He was being summoned to California for the final decision by the medical evaluation board. Chance didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. He had assumed they would just send a letter notifying him he was either in or out. Apparently they wanted to do it in person.
“So is that your clearance? The news you’ve been waiting for?”
Holly stood next to him. Seeing her in his mom’s robe did odd things to his gut. She was so beautiful with her long hair unbraided so it could dry, the golden waves falling over her shoulders. He couldn’t imagine any other woman doing justice to that robe. From the sexiest of negligees to nothing at all, he’d seen everything. No other woman could compare with the vision of Holly he was seeing right now.
“The letter?” she prompted.
“Ah, kinda. I’ve been asked to appear at a final hearing in front of the medical evaluation board in three days. I guess I’ll find out then.”
“So after all of this waiting, you get to wait more. That is so unfair.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me,” he joked. Holly apparently didn’t take it that way. He saw her blink her beautiful eyes in rapid succession before she turned away.
“Don’t be silly,” she said as she walked to the kitchen. “What do we have in here to eat?”
Holly rarely showed signs of an appetite. Grabbing a piece of cheese or a carrot and eating while on the go had always been her MO. She was upset. She was upset about the letter and what it meant.
“Holly,” he said, getting to his feet. He could see how she was fighting to maintain the thin sliver of control as a battle raged within her.
“Got any peanut butter?” She opened a cabinet, closed it and moved to another one. She grabbed the small jar of Peter Pan and lowered it from the shelf, turning it round and round in her hands. He knew her mind was a thousand miles away. In Coronado.
“Holly,” he said, leaning over her, his arms on either side, balancing his weight on the counter. “I’ll come back. Even if I’m cleared for duty, I swear I will come back.” Coming back to the ranch was not a promise he wanted to make, but it was a promise he would keep. For Holly. If Wade gave them time.
He saw her nod and brush her hand against her cheeks.
“Come on, Holly. Turn around and tell me you believe me.”
“I believe you,” she said but didn’t turn to face him.
Damn. He couldn’t do this anymore. He could not deny them what they both wanted. The muscles in his body tightened as the idea took hold, and before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed her shoulders, turned her around and cupped her face in his hands. “I will come back.” He leaned toward her and their breaths fused into one as his lips covered hers, their tongues mating until she sighed and her exquisite feminine body melted into his.
Holly opened her mouth wider, giving him as much as she got, and his body surged to readiness as the kisses deepened and grew more impassioned with every breath. His hands encircled her waist and he set her up on the kitchen counter.
With the ease of experience, he parted her legs, opening them wide enough to accept his girth. Then he stepped up to fill the space. One hand cupped her face, caressing the velvet softness of her cheek. His other hand reached behind her and pulled her forward to the edge of the countertop, nestling his erection at the apex of her thighs. She made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan and moved against him. He felt the heat between them scorch like fire and her body went limp. She grabbed the belt loops on his jeans, holding him to her as she pressed harder against his throbbing shaft.
Hell. He wanted to say no. He wanted to stop this before it changed everything, before it could never be taken back. He wanted to ask her if she was sure. But he did none of those things. Instead, he scooped her up into his arms and walked into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them.
Settling her gently on the bed, he felt almost disconnected with what was happening. They had denied the passion growing between them for so long, to know what was about to happen felt surreal. The thought of it increased the fire in his loins, his erection throbbing.
“Be sure this is what you want.” Was that his voice? So deep and demanding with more than a hint of frantic worry that she would say no. “Because in about three seconds there will be no turning back.”
She looked up at him, her eyes soft and clouded, her lips swollen and moist from his kisses. A fierce possession gripped him.
“One. Two. Three,” she said. “Take off your jeans.”
Chance unsnapped the button on his waistband and lowered the zipper. Then, bending over her, he parted the robe. Drawing back, he let his eyes roam over her. Holly was so perfect; her skin was so fair, like a porcelain doll. Her breasts were full and heavy, the light pink tips fully erect. Chance lowered himself to suckle one pale rose tip while his hand kneaded the other, his thumb rubbing and teasing. She inhaled deeply, then moaned and arched her back. Her response told him she needed more, and he was ready to give her what she needed.
But she wasn’t ready to take him yet. He kissed her silken skin as he worked his way down her body from her lips to her belly. The dark blond curls at the joining of her legs enticed him to explore what other secrets she was keeping. Pushing her knees apart, he cupped her hips, raising her to him. He had to taste her essence. He wanted to acquaint himself with all of her.
She drew in a deep, long breath when his tongue tasted her for the first time. As he completely enjoyed the silken skin and scent of her, her legs dropped open fully and his erection surged past hard to painful. He was about to lose it, but this had to be for Holly. Suddenly her hands gripped his hair and she stiffened, then cried out. Chance continued to draw out her climax as long as possible, loving the idea he had brought her pleasure. After several minutes she collapsed back on the bed.