The Navy SEAL's Christmas Bride

“Pitting themselves against SEALs?”

 

 

“Hell, yeah. I’m going to ask Mason if he’d like to take part now and then, and I bet he’ll know some other guys we can ask. There are one or two guys I’ve served with who might like to join me.”

 

He sounded pleased as punch with the idea, but Sarah was reeling. Real men things? What about real women things? And what was this emphasis on SEALs? The Army had plenty of primal knowledge to offer anyone.

 

She shivered when a breath of cool air touched her skin, and waited for his invitation to become a partner in his business as her heart rate slowed.

 

None came.

 

As he talked on about wanting to build an obstacle course just like the one the Halls had, reality crashed over her. After everything they’d been through, after everything she’d shown him, he still didn’t think she was good enough.

 

Sarah moved to climb out of bed, but Dan’s arms tightened around her. “Hey, where are you going? We’ve got plenty of time.”

 

“For what?” Sarah shoved him away and climbed out from under the covers. “For more screwing around?”

 

“Well, yeah.” Dan sat up. “I’m always up for that.”

 

“Well, I guess I’m not. Back to reality, SEALman.” She pulled her clothes on as she spoke, nearly ripping her dress in her attempt to pull its sleeves right side out. If she’d been smart, she never would have left reality. She’d have known that all Dan’s words about respect and equality didn’t mean a thing.

 

She grabbed the rest of her things and swept out of the door, slamming it behind her. She didn’t care if she woke up the whole house. She was done with Dan. Done with every military man. Done with all of it.

 

It didn’t matter how hard she tried or how good she was, it never counted, simply because she was a woman. She stomped back to her own room and began to pack, dashing a hand over her eyes when they began to burn with unshed tears. Tears? She hadn’t cried once during her tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. She certainly wouldn’t cry over a stupid SEAL. It was her own damn fault she’d let him worm his way into her heart, the better to smash it the minute she relaxed and let her guard down. How many times did she have to learn this lesson before it took?

 

A light knock several minutes later announced Regan’s arrival. “I heard a door slam. Are you all right?” She glanced around. “Are you going somewhere?” she asked softly after letting herself into the room.

 

“I’m going home. I’m going to start the paperwork to leave the Army. I’ll serve out my time and do the best job I can, and then that’s it. I’m putting the military behind me.”

 

Regan sat down on the edge of the bed. “Does this have anything to do with a certain rather enthusiastic ex-SEAL?”

 

“Maybe. Partly.” Sarah shoved a pile of clothing into her suitcase. “He’s just the tip of the iceberg, though. It’s all of them. It’s everyone—the whole damn world.” She whirled around, spotted her comb and brush on the bureau and grabbed them too.

 

“It must be hard to be a woman in the military.”

 

“It shouldn’t be.” Sarah rounded on her. “It’s the twenty-first century. Why on earth is it still hard?”

 

“I don’t know.” Regan was sympathetic. “What I do know is that it’s Christmas Eve. I wish you’d stay.”

 

Sarah stopped her frantic packing. “I’m not mad at you. I hope you know that. You’ve been a terrific hostess.”

 

Regan nodded. “I know you’re not mad at me. You’re not mad at all, really, are you? You’re sad. Did something happen between you and Dan?”

 

“Dan happened,” Sarah said darkly. “It’s like he doesn’t see me at all.”

 

“Are you sure? He’s been staring at you all week.”

 

“At my body, you mean. He hasn’t noticed who I am, or what I do, or what my skills are.”

 

“What is it you’d like him to notice?”

 

“That I’m one of the best soldiers who ever lived!” Sarah exploded.

 

“You don’t think he knows that after these past few days? My God, Sarah—it’s amazing what you can do.” Regan smiled at her. “Anyway, I thought you two were getting along pretty well yesterday. Did you have some kind of lover’s spat?”

 

Sarah bit back a spate of angry words. “We’re not lovers.” Her face heated at the lie. “So we had sex. So it was fun. It didn’t mean a damn thing.”

 

A sharp intake of breath from the doorway was her first indication they were no longer alone. Both women whirled around to see Dan’s face darken with anger. He hesitated there, his gaze hard as he searched Sarah’s face. Then he turned on his heel and shut the door behind him.

 

Sarah let her hands drop, the paperback and toiletry kit she’d gathered to pack forgotten. Dan had come after her. Did that mean he cared for her?

 

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