A SEAL's Oath (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 1) (17 page)

She shook her head. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

“Riley. Listen to me.” He waited until she was looking him in the eye. “I don’t intend to marry twice. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

After a long pause, she nodded.

“You’re stuck with me. If we’ve made a child, it’s stuck with me, too. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her softly. “This dance is forever.”

Riley stood on
the manor’s front porch and watched Boone stride away down the path into the darkness toward the outbuildings.

Engaged.

She was engaged to a man who made her breathless, confused and aggravated in turns. To a man who’d rocked her world—and just possibly gotten her pregnant.

Twenty-four hours ago she’d arrived at Westfield a free woman with a dream to build a better future. Now her dream had been caught up in Boone’s and she had no idea what the future might hold.

They should have talked more. Instead, when Boone had gathered her to him, they’d made out like teenagers under the stars until she was so turned on she practically vibrated with need. Then he’d laid her down and they’d brought each other to completion again—while keeping safe this time.

Her cheeks burned at the thought of it. Letting Boone take his time over her body and make her cry out as she came seemed all the more intimate the second time around. She’d taken her turn and teased him with her mouth until he’d come, too. She’d felt so powerful knowing she could bring him to such a vulnerable place. When they were done it had been hard to stop touching him.

She thought he felt the same way.

She had a hundred questions now that he was gone. Where would they live? Would he give her a ring? And what about Fulsom and his television show? Riley couldn’t believe she hadn’t asked about that.

She lingered on the front stoop, her mood too fragile to go inside and face her friends. Would she have to be on the show, too? Probably, she realized. She wanted to save Westfield, after all. She tried to picture the manor invaded by cameras and a film crew. She wouldn’t be able to paint under those conditions. It would be hard for her friends to tend to their creative pursuits, also.

Speaking of which…

What would her friends say when they found out about her and Boone?

Riley knew she wasn’t ready to tell them yet. She hoped Boone would understand that she needed some time before she announced her engagement. Wishing she could slip away and hide, she opened the manor’s front door and found her friends gathered in the music room. Savannah was playing the piano softly, wincing whenever she sounded a sour note. Nora lounged on a sofa reading a novel. Avery was reading, too. She was seated on the opposite side of the sofa with her feet tucked underneath her and was studying a book on film techniques.

Savannah stopped playing. “How was your date?”

The others perked up, obviously ready for an interruption.

“Good,” Riley said. The house still retained a burnt odor from their ill-fated dinner, but it was fading and the interval had soothed her friends’ frazzled nerves. She cast about for something to say; something that would hint that she was beginning to fall for Boone, without revealing that she’d already agreed to marry him.

Or slept with him.

“Better than good, actually,” she added.

“I wasn’t sure you liked him all that much,” Nora said, putting down her book.

Riley came to perch on one of the armchairs across from the sofa. “I had a major crush on him when I was sixteen.”

“Before he brushed you off,” Avery said.

“You never got over him, did you? Even if you said you did.” Savannah snapped her music book shut and stood up.

“Is he a good kisser?” Avery almost sounded wistful. Savannah moved to a spot between her and Nora, and pushed Nora’s feet aside so she could sit down.

“He is,” Riley said. “Almost too good.” Much too good.

“Is that possible?”

“It is. When I’m around him… I don’t know.” She twisted her hands together. “I thought I’d have grown out of what I used to feel, but…”

“But he’s too damn sexy to fall out of lust with,” Savannah said. “Ha! Riley’s doing the landlord. Are we going to keep getting free rent?”

“I’m not doing him,” she protested even though that’s exactly what she was doing. A glance down at her rumpled dress told her she probably wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Good, because you should keep your distance,” Nora said.

“Why? It’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Avery said. “If she keeps our landlord happy, we’ll get to stay.”

“What if she doesn’t keep him happy, though?” Nora retorted. “This is a recipe for disaster.”

Would it set their minds at ease to know she was engaged to Boone? No, not under the circumstances. They’d want to know why she’d rushed into something like that and she couldn’t give them an answer that made sense.

“I’m happy for you,” Savannah said. “And we’ll all do what we can to support your relationship with the handsome Boone Rudman. Right, ladies?”

“I guess so,” Nora said.

“Of course,” Avery said.

Riley figured she’d need all the help she could get.

‡

D
awn was already
lighting up the interior of his small tent and Boone had barely slept a wink. All night long he’d relived his mind-blowing evening with Riley, the way she’d opened to him like they were made for each other, the way his body felt when he’d pressed into her—and the way she’d held him like she couldn’t get enough.

Now they were engaged, but he had a lot more work to do before the month was up. He knew Riley; she’d be full of doubt today—about herself and him. She’d especially second-guess making love to him without protection. Boone wasn’t second guessing that at all.

He wanted to do it again.

He’d hated leaving her at the manor last night. In fact, he didn’t want to be apart from her at all. He had no idea how a feeling like this could blaze up so brightly out of nowhere, but it was as intoxicating as the finest wine. He craved Riley. He wanted to see her now.

Was it too early?

Probably.

He’d be married within a month. Boone laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling of the tent. Thinking about the ceremony, he almost groaned. Why had he agreed to a Regency wedding? Could he really make it through that while the whole world watched?

Would Fulsom let him?

He didn’t know what Riley meant when she’d asked him to swear not to come between her and her friends, either. Would she help him recruit Nora, Avery and Savannah to join his community?

Or would she expect him to let her stay at the manor even after they were wed?

He didn’t like that idea at all. Forget for a minute the need for her to live with him while the film crew was present; he didn’t want to be without her more than strictly necessary. Once they were married he wanted to make love to Riley every night.

Hell, he wanted to make love to her now.

He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. How would she react when he told her about the goals they had to meet in six months? Would she commit to help him succeed?

One thing at a time. First he would solidify his relationship with Riley. Then he’d figure out how to deal with her friends. Then he’d make sure winning was never an issue.

And he’d make sure Riley never, ever knew about Montague’s plans for the ranch should they fail. Once she found out that he intended to develop the land she loved, she wouldn’t be able to think about anything else.

First things first, he needed to win over Riley’s friends. He remembered the story she’d told him the previous night about the cooking fiasco at dinner. Maybe he could start there. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was cook over a fire. If he could endear himself to Savannah, Avery and Nora, Riley would grow to trust him, wouldn’t she?

With that settled, Boone lay back down and thought about the work ahead of him. He had expected to have some finagling to do with the county planning office, but Fulsom had already greased those tracks. It seemed like Fulsom was well-connected everywhere. That meant they’d be able to get started with building right on time. Meanwhile, Boone had begun to work on a governance document, patched together from ones he’d found on the Internet. It boggled the mind how many details there were to sort out, especially when what he was trying to obtain was freedom from the kind of restrictions that bogged down so many lives. But people were complicated, which meant everything needed to be spelled out to prevent trouble down the road. He was supposed to spend the morning sorting it out, but after what had happened with Riley the night before, he had something far more pressing on his mind.

A short time later, Boone emerged from his tent and looked at the ten housing perimeters he’d staked out the day before. When he’d begun working on his sustainable community, all the decisions he’d made around housing had been prompted by a desire to recycle materials already in use and to eschew society’s conceptions of how a normal house had to look. He’d wanted his industrial-style boxes to proclaim to the world they were an antidote to consumption.

Now he realized that by doing so, he’d alienate the very people he wanted to convince.

He made a phone call and cancelled the delivery of the shipping containers he’d intended to use as frameworks for the houses. He was just about to call Clay to consult him on a new design when the clip-clop of hooves startled him from his reverie and Boone turned to see an incredible sight. Two high-stepping horses pulled a black, open carriage up the service road to the barns and outbuildings.

“Hello!” called a man in a dark, old-fashioned waistcoat and a powdered wig. He was seated high on a bench seat behind the horses. Boone blinked a few times, wondering if his sleepless night had just caught up to him, but the man remained. When the man brought the horses to a halt in front of him, Boone could only stare. He wore knee britches, socks, old-fashioned shoes and a patterned vest under his coat. A woman seated behind him in the carriage had on a getup similar to Riley and her friends—a long dress with a fitted bodice and straight skirts. Both looked to be in their sixties, with friendly, open faces. They looked amused at his surprise.

The man jumped down from the driver’s seat. “I’m James Russell, and this divine creature is my wife, Maud. You must be Boone. We’ve heard all about you from your parents. When we found out you’d taken up residence just two miles down the road we had to come and see you for ourselves.”

He strode forward and vigorously shook Boone’s hand, then hurried back to help his wife from the carriage while the horses waited patiently. Her large stature made this an awkward task. “How was your journey?” James asked over his shoulder. “And are you really lately come from her majesty’s navy?”

“From the U.S. Navy,” Boone corrected him, utterly lost at sea. Did this strange person really know his parents? He couldn’t picture that. “I believe we separated from the queen about 240 years ago.”

The man ignored that. “What a fine thing it must be to ride the high seas on a sailing sloop. What stories you must have to tell.”

Sailing sloop? The closest to that Boone had come was an aircraft carrier. Had these people simply decided to pretend they were two hundred years back in time, or had they lost their minds?

“Anyway, we’ve come to welcome you. We hear that there will be a whole contingent of naval men here before you’re done. What an addition to the neighborhood!”

“And is there a Lady Rudman?” the woman—Maud—asked, finally safe on solid ground. She offered her hand and Boone shook it.

“No. Not yet.”

“Ah, sounds as if one is pending, though,” James said. “I smell a mystery. Who is she? Is she here?”

“Not here.” Boone couldn’t help sending a glance up to the manor house.

“At the manor, then? Well, this is a surprise.”

“Don’t tell me that the manor itself is to be occupied.” Maud touched his arm. “There hasn’t been a family at Westfield in years. Will the young lady in question be accompanied by her parents?”

“No. She’s there already with her friends.” Boone was beginning to regain his equilibrium. At first he’d suspected that Riley had sent these two theatrical individuals to bother him, but she’d barely been in Chance Creek for a day—that seemed too short a time to set up such an elaborate joke. He couldn’t imagine how James and Maud knew his parents, although now that he thought about it, his mother had mentioned they’d been involved in some kind of historical re-enactment. But hadn’t she spoken of the Civil War? The Russells weren’t dressed for that.

“With friends! How modern,” Maud remarked to her husband. “No chaperone at all?”

Boone hesitated. He could refuse to play along. He wasn’t used to make believe. But the two people in front of him seemed harmless, and he had to give them credit for living their lives the way they wanted to. A lot of people were going to look at his community and think he’d gone off his rocker. Shouldn’t he have a little patience for other people’s eccentricities?

“No.” Boone answered Maud’s question gravely. “They are greatly in need of mature counsel, too. The things they get up to.”