Redeeming The Billionaire Seal. Lauren Canan

and as long as she was feeling insulted, he might as well get it all out. “And there is one other thing I feel the need to mention. I will not have sex with you. We will never have sex. You are a friend. A very special friend. You are also Jason’s little sister.” He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “I will not touch you in that way. Ever. It would end what we have now and I don’t want to lose that.” If she had so much as raised her head a quarter of an inch, touching those amazing lips to his, they might be having a completely different conversation about now. Or no conversation at all.

      “Fine by me,” she huffed right back at him. “What makes you think I would ever want to have sex with you anyway? Of all the unmitigated gall. Your arrogance defies description.”

      “Is that right?”

      “Yes,” she hissed. “I don’t even find you interesting...in that way.”

      “Sweetheart, make no mistake. Our feelings greatly differ in that regard. I want you until it hurts. You are without doubt the most beautiful and the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. But I will not touch you, even if it kills me. And it very well may. Now, why are you here? What did you need?” He couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice and no doubt sounded a lot more surly than intended.

      She adjusted her stance and the look on her face was somewhere between insulted and incredulous. “What did I need?”

      “You woke me up, so you must have a reason.” He barked out his explanation then waited for an answer.

      Her arms hugged her body in a protective stance as she glared at him. Silence ensued.

      “What?” He enunciated the question. “Has it become a secret all of a sudden?”

      She narrowed her eyes in anger. “I was just trying to place who you are. Because you’re sure not my friend Chance.”

      He shook his head and huffed a sigh. “Holly...look. I’m sorry, okay?” How long had it been since he’d apologized to anyone?

      “I didn’t want anything, Commander Masters. I didn’t expect to be attacked. I didn’t come looking for a good time. And I sure didn’t anticipate a lecture on how not to wake up an ill-tempered, arrogant grump. When did you get so bossy? You used to be nice. Sorry I bothered you.” She spun around and marched toward the exit at the front of barn.

      “Holly.”

      “Good night,” she snapped without turning around.

      Just let it go. You’re asking for trouble if you don’t let her go.

      “Holly.” Shit. He ran a hand over his face. “Wait.”

      She slowed her steps, finally stopping, but she still didn’t turn around. Her hair fell in gentle silver-gold swirls past her waist. Small bits of hay clung to the silken strands. He watched as she slowly turned around, saw her chin jut out, displaying the stubborn streak she’d had since she could talk, and silently cursed himself for getting into this situation. With that angelic face and a body Playboy would kill to add to its centerfold collection, he knew he’d just made a big mistake. Another one. His body was still erect and throbbing, ready for action of a different kind that had nothing to do with the battlefield. Spending too much time around her he could easily lose his mind. Or find himself in a whole lot of trouble. Maybe both.

      “I...I couldn’t sleep,” she said finally, her voice soft. “I guess it’s because you’re home.” She huffed out an embarrassed laugh as though she now thought the idea was completely lame. “I considered maybe you might be out here and could use some company. I thought we could talk. Like we used to. Sorry I woke you up.”

      Chance muttered a string of silent curses, all aimed at himself. He could feel all the little spears of warning jabbing his body and mind, each one screaming No! as he nodded, sat back down on the old blanket he’d found in the office and patted a corner, silently inviting her to join him.

      “I would like your company. I’ll try to be nice.”

      With a shift in body language, Holly approached him, moving the loose strands of hay around and fussing over the makeshift bed like a hen building a nest. When she finally had her spot the way she wanted, she sat down and grinned up at him. She was radiant. She smelled of some kind of berries, probably her shampoo. It was nice. Not all flowery like what some women used. He could feel the slight heat of her smaller body next to him as she relaxed against the wall.

      This was a very bad idea.

      “So have your brothers hit you up about quitting the SEALs and coming home permanently?”

      He wondered which of them told her about their little plan. “Wade?”

      “Cole.” She smiled. “I take it that’s a yes. And let me guess. Might your answer have something to do with you being out here in the barn?”

      “You know, Naval Intelligence could use your talent.”

      “It isn’t that I’m snoopy,” she countered. “All that much,” she qualified. “People just like to blab. Especially men.”

      “I’m going to let that pass.”

      “That might be wise.” A frown covered her face, an indication of sincerity.

      “So tell me about your clinic.”

      “It’s there. You saw it. We’ve had this conversation. I’d rather talk about you.”

      “I’m sure I’ll regret this...but what about me?”

      “Exactly.”

      She sounded pleased that he understood. He didn’t understand a damn thing except the need to adjust his pants. He turned his head and looked down into her eyes. Their faces were separated only by the width of their shoulders. He watched as her eyes dipped to his mouth. And stayed there. Her teeth were so white against her slightly open lips. His ability to remain indifferent dropped to below 2 percent. Give or take. With jaw-clenching determination, he looked away. “What can I tell you?”

      When she didn’t immediately answer, he turned back to her, noting how she’d again lowered her gaze to his mouth.

      “I’m not exactly sure how to put it.” She chewed her lower lip. Then let it slide from between her teeth until her mouth was again slightly open. Moistened. Full. Ready for kissing. Her soft honey-brown eyes looked directly into his.

      “Is it hard?”

       Three

      Chance froze as a flare of heat once again surged to his groin. He cleared his throat and tried to weigh the question. He’d been around the men in his platoon too long. They all tended to break the tension and stress by intentionally putting the wrong connotation on something another said. This was Holly. Especially after what just happened, it was better to be safe.

      “Is what hard?”

      “What you do. For a living. Being a SEAL.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling with a piece of straw. “I know you guys are the best, but even then, sometimes... Sometimes bad things happen. Like...what happened to Jason. I know you were hurt. Wade told me. I hear about an accident in Iraq or Afghanistan, like a chopper going down or our men being killed by some hidden bomb, and it’s all I can do to take another breath. I know what it’s like to get that phone call from a near hysterical wife who is calling to tell you your brother—her husband and the father of their baby—is dead. I can’t imagine what it must be like on the other side. To actually see someone killed or badly injured.”

      He felt her struggle to not break down.

      “After Jason... It became so real. It was no longer just a news report that happened to someone else. They could be talking about you. I pretty much held my breath every time they announced another casualty or bombing involving our guys, only relaxing when Wade didn’t call to tell me anything after a few days.”

      That