An Officer And A Millionaire

Eight

Hunter didn’t mind helping out, he told himself a few days later. After all, he was here, wasn’t he? And there was just so damn much to do. There was the construction at the company headquarters to look after, and there was Simon’s birthday party. Since Margie couldn’t really be expected to do it all, and since he didn’t have a clue about how to arrange a blowout party, Hunter had taken over the work on the building in town.

He met with the contractor, talked to the employees to get their ideas and helped to draw up plans for the remodeling. Now, sitting in Simon’s study, with blueprints spread out in front of him on the desk, he asked himself how he’d managed to get sucked so far into the life of the town.

His grandfather was upstairs, taking a nap, Margie was off in the kitchen talking to Simon’s cook about the caterer’s party menus and Hunter was sitting behind the very desk he’d spent most of his life avoiding.

“So, how’d you get here?” he muttered and poured himself a glass of scotch.

“We turned left into that freeway out front you call a driveway,” a familiar voice said, answering the rhetorical question Hunter had posed.

“As long as you’re pourin’, brudda,” another voice told him, “get two more glasses out.”

Only one man Hunter knew used island slang in every conversation just to make sure people knew he was a proud, full-blooded Hawaiian. Hunter was grinning as he stood up to face two members of his SEAL team. Jack Thorne, “JT,” his team leader, and Danny “Hula” Akiona were standing in the open doorway of the study.

“Where’d you guys come from?” Hunter asked as he came around the desk, hand out to welcome his friends.

JT was tall and blond with sharp blue eyes that never missed anything. Hula was just as tall, with black hair, black eyes and a smart-ass outlook on life. Damn, Hunter’d missed them both.

“We were on our way up to Frisco for a little R and R,” Hula was saying. “Thought we’d stop and see how you were healing up. Didn’t know we’d find you sitting in a mansion.”

Hunter winced. Exactly why he’d never told his friends about his background.

Hula sniffed the air, then slid his gaze to where the decanter of scotch sat on the edge of the desk. “Hmm. Thirty years old. Single malt.”

Hunter laughed. “How the hell do you do that?”

“It’s a gift.” Hula shrugged, looked around the immense study, then shifted a look back at his friend. “So how come you never told us you were stinkin’ rich?”

JT frowned at him. “Nice. Real subtle.”

“I don’t do subtle,” Hula told him and shifted a pointed look at Hunter. “Takes too long, life’s too short. Gotta wonder why a friend keeps a secret like this, though.”

Hunter blew out a breath. “So I wouldn’t have to listen to you saying things like ‘stinkin’ rich.’”

“No offense, you know?” Hula glanced around the big room again, then slid his gaze back to Hunter. “Just surprising finding out one of our own is a gazillionaire.”

“Shut up, Hula,” JT said and walked into the study, his gaze also darting around the room, taking it all in.

“Have a seat,” Hunter said, glad to see his friends despite the fact that they now knew his secret. He retrieved the scotch, got two more glasses and then sat down across from two of the men he routinely trusted with his life. They were looking around as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing, and he couldn’t really blame them.

In all the time they’d been together, Hunter had never once mentioned that his family was rich. He hadn’t wanted them or the others on the team to treat him differently. All he’d wanted was to be one of them. To be accepted for who he was, not what his family had. Now, though, he had to wince. Had to look to his friends as if he’d been lying to them for years.

Because he had been.

JT braced his elbows on his knees, stared at him and asked, “So why’d you never say anything?”

“Yeah, brudda,” Hula said, his dark eyes flashing. “Seems you like to keep secrets, huh? What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll borrow money after one of our poker nights?”

Hunter sprawled in the chair, balanced his glass of scotch atop his flat abdomen and shot first one man, then the other, a hard look. “This is why I never said anything. You’re both looking at me like I’m a rich sonofabitch.”

“It’s only the rich part that’s new,” Hula told him with a wink. “Seriously, man, why’d you hide it? If I had a great place like this, I’d be telling everybody.”

“Yeah,” JT said with a shake of his head. “We know. But then, you tell everybody you meet every minute of your life story.”

“Well, I’m a fascinating man,” Hula said with a smile before he took a sip of scotch. “Like the time I tangled with a tiger shark off the coast of Maui…”

“We already heard it,” Hunter and JT said together.

Then the three of them grinned at one another like loons. And just like that, things were back on an even keel. The secret of his family’s money was out, and his friends had put it aside already. Made Hunter wonder what the hell he’d been worried about for so long.

“I actually missed you guys,” Hunter told them.

“Good to know,” JT said, easing back into the leather chair. “When we didn’t hear from you, I started thinking maybe you were reconsidering coming back to the team.”

“I told him that was cracked,” Hula said after a long, appreciative sip of scotch. “No way Hunter doesn’t come back, I said. Hell, Hunt lives for the buzz, man.”

The buzz. What they called the adrenaline-laced rush they got just before a mission. What they all felt when they were given orders to complete and dropped behind enemy lines. What they celebrated when they were all back home safe.

The buzz had a hold on Hunter, and he couldn’t deny it, but lately he’d been asking himself if the buzz was enough to live on. And how much longer could he do this job to the degree of perfection he expected of himself? He wasn’t getting any younger, and already two or three of the guys he’d entered SEAL training with had retired or taken on stateside training jobs.

JT was rolling his glass of scotch between his palms and watching him quietly.

“What?”

“Nothing,” his boss said. “You just seem…different, I guess.”

“I’m not,” Hunter assured him and wondered silently if he was trying to convince JT or himself. Because the truth was, everything had changed. In town. Simon. Margie. But had he? No, he told himself firmly, squashing the very idea. “Nothing’s changed.”

“Hunter?”

All three men whipped their heads around to face Margie when she entered the room. And then all three quickly stood up.

She was surprised and had stopped just inside the room. She wore a pale yellow, short-sleeved blouse over her favorite jeans and brown sandals on her small, narrow feet. Her hair was windblown into a tangled mass of curls that made a man want to run his fingers through them, and her green eyes were wide in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”

“It’s okay,” Hunter said, glancing from her to the friends, who were looking at her with clearly admiring gazes. A flicker of irritation came to life inside him as he saw Hula give her a smile that had won him countless women over the years.

Hunter felt a stab of territorialism that surprised the hell out of him. But damned if Hula was going to make a move on his wife, right in front of him.

He didn’t stop to ask himself if this was another secret he should keep. Why introduce her as his wife when he knew damn well there was a divorce hovering on the horizon? Because he didn’t want Hula looking at Margie like a hungry man eyes a steak. Because she looked wide eyed and uncertain what to do and Hunter didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Because, damn it, for right now anyway, she was his.

“Come on in, Margie. I want you to meet these guys.” When she was close enough, Hunter draped one arm around her shoulders. “Jack Thorne, Danny Akiona, this is my wife, Margie.”

JT grinned, clearly stunned. “Nice to meet you.”

Hula coughed. “Your wife?” Shooting a look at Hunter, he said, “Man, what happened to Gretch-”

JT shoved him and said, “Sorry, Hula. I make you spill your scotch?”

Hula wiped the liquor off his black T-shirt and glared at his team leader. “No problem.”

Margie looked confused, then smiled at both men. “It’s nice to meet Hunter’s friends. Can I get you anything? Food? Coffee?”

“No, ma’am,” JT said quickly. “Thank you, though. We just stopped for a quick visit. Then we’re heading into the city.”

“You sure you’re his wife?” Hula asked, stepping away from JT before there could be another “accident.”

Margie grinned. “I’m sure.”

“That’s too bad,” he said with a slow shake of his head.

“Well.” Margie backed up a step or two, turned for the door and said, “I’ll let you visit. It was nice to meet you both.”

Hunter watched her walk away, and despite his best intentions, his gaze dropped to the sway of her hips in those worn denim jeans she preferred. It didn’t help any to finally look at his friends and see that Hula had been enjoying the same view. Irritation clawed at him.

“What the hell were you thinking bringing up Gretchen?” Hunter whispered when Margie was gone.

“Hey, man,” Hula said in his own defense, “I was surprised is all. I mean, last time I heard, you were dating this Swedish goddess-now you’re married to somebody else.”

Hunter shot a look at the empty doorway and wondered if Margie had caught Hula’s slip or if JT had managed to shut him up in time. And why the hell did he care if she knew about Gretchen? He and the model weren’t together anymore. Besides, it wasn’t like he and Margie were really married. He didn’t owe her an explanation. So why, then, did he feel like a cheating husband who’d been caught in the act?

“So nothing’s changed, huh?” JT asked.

“That’s right,” Hunter told him, knowing he didn’t sound convincing. Hell, how could he?

“You know,” Hula mused, “I like this one a hell of a lot better than Gr-” He stopped, covered his glass with the top of his hand to prevent spillage and stepped back from JT. “That other one, she was cold, man. Sort of empty. This one…” He smiled and nodded. “She’s a different story.”

Yeah, she was, Hunter thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to ignore the rattle and clang of thoughts and notions running through his mind. Despite wanting to keep an emotional distance between him and Margie, she had gotten to him. She’d sneaked beneath his defenses and had managed to make him question the way he lived his life. Forced him to look at his decisions. His-

JT just looked at him for a long moment or two. Then thoughtfully, he said, “You know, you wouldn’t be the first of us to choose to stay with his wife rather than risk his life every other day.”

True. He’d seen plenty of other guys fall in love, get married and leave the military. But their situations were different. They were in love with their wives. He was deeply in lust. But he couldn’t admit to more than that. If he did, too much in his life would be affected.

“I told you, boss,” Hunter said tightly. “Not gonna happen. I’ll be back. My…marriage won’t stop me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Hunt. I’m glad you’re coming back, and we all know the buzz is good, man,” Hula said quietly. “But you have a woman who loves you? That’s a buzz, too.”

Did she? Love him? He thought about that and wondered. Or, he asked himself, was she just enjoying him as he was enjoying her? Was she trying to make him need her? Was she hoping that he’d make this marriage a real one? And why was he thinking about all of this anyway? He knew what he had to do. What he always did. His duty.

“Not the kind I need,” Hunter told him. “So why don’t we quit talking about my wife and you guys tell me what’s been happening while I’ve been gone.”

They sat down again, and while his friends talked and filled him in on life on base, Hunter’s mind drifted. He wasn’t sure why. He should have been hanging on the guys’ every word about the base and the other teams. Should have been eager to turn his mind back to his job, back to the world he’d sought and built. Instead, his gaze slipped to the doorway through which Margie had disappeared, and his mind filled with thoughts of her. How she looked, the scent of her, the sound of her laughter and even the soft whisper of her sighs.

She was more than he’d expected, more than he’d wanted, and playing this dangerous game of theirs was getting more complicated. Now he was lying to his friends about her, and they’d no doubt have questions when he and Margie got their divorce, too. He never should have agreed to this insanity.

Because there was a part of him that was buying into it. A part of him sliding almost effortlessly into the rhythm of married man. Of Margie’s man. And that couldn’t happen. Because his life wasn’t here. No matter what Simon or Margie might want.

He’d be going back to the Navy because that was where he’d always felt he belonged. His friends, his team. The missions. He’d signed on to do a job and he would continue to do it. He’d given his word, and he knew what that entailed. He belonged to the Navy, not this little town.

But for the first time, that call to adventure seemed a little less compelling than it once had. For the first time, a part of Hunter felt that he would be leaving behind something important when he left.

Margie stood outside the open study doors and listened to the three men talk.

There was laughter and the rumble of deep voices, and she hugged herself as she picked Hunter’s voice out of the crowd with ease. He sounded happy as he sat and talked about missions and danger and adventure, about the bonds that tied the men together.

This was something she couldn’t fight. These men who were closer to Hunter than brothers had a hold on him that was so deep it couldn’t be defeated. Even if she were trying to.

She knew that no matter how she wished things were different between them, Hunter would never stay with her. Even if he actually loved her-which he didn’t-he still wouldn’t stay. He was a SEAL, and she doubted that would ever change.

And just who was Gretchen?

A few days later, Hunter was feeling just as itchy as he had when his team members had visited. He felt as though he should be doing something, but he couldn’t figure out exactly what. He worked out at the local gym, did his morning runs down country roads and in general tried to get back into shape for his return to duty.

But through all of it, a different kind of duty kept rearing its head, demanding he take notice. Over the last few years, when he’d come home to see Simon, he’d made fast visits, in and out and back to base. But this time, with his medical leave and Simon’s precarious health and Margie, the visit had been a longer one. Long enough to remind Hunter that there was a world outside the Navy, that there were other duties every bit as important as the one he owed to his country.

And Hunter was having a hard time reconciling what he wanted to do with what he knew he should do.

“Hunter. Good. I was looking for you.” Simon walked into the study, and his steps were slow and careful.

Hunter stood up to help, but the older man irritably waved him off. “I’m not helpless yet,” he muttered, walking around the edge of the desk to pull out the bottom drawer.

His heart fisting in his chest, Hunter watched his grandfather and tried to tell himself that despite appearances, the old man was as tough as any SEAL recruit. There was steel in that old man’s bones, he thought with pride. But even as he thought it, he knew that his grandfather wasn’t as strong as he’d once been. That the years had taken a toll that Hunter had never allowed himself to notice before now.

Had he really been so selfishly determined to live his own life on his own terms that he’d avoided noticing how much Simon needed help? Was he really ready to turn his back on his grandfather? After all the elderly man had been to him? What the hell kind of man would that make him? Choose duty to country over duty to family?

Shaking his head, Hunter pushed away the thoughts crowding his mind, because he didn’t have any answers. Instead, he concentrated on what his grandfather was doing. In the bottom drawer there were dozens of files, neatly arranged. While Hunter watched, Simon quickly thumbed through them all until he found the one he wanted. Then he set the file onto the desk and flipped it open. “I want you to look these over and sign them before you go.”

Hunter lifted one eyebrow. “Getting me another wife?” he asked wryly.

“Wouldn’t waste my time,” Simon snapped. “You don’t have the sense to appreciate the one I already got you.”

The hell of it was, Hunter did appreciate Margie. Too damn much.

“Simon…”

“I’m not here to talk about Margie, boy. This is something else.”

“What?” Wariness crept into his tone. Lamplight speared up from the desk, illuminating Simon’s face from beneath, giving the older man an almost eerie look. Shadows crept over his eyes, and every line and crevice on his face was deeply defined.

Simon straightened up, looked his grandson square in the eye and said, “I’m turning over the family business to you.”

“Damn it, Simon,” Hunter said, lifting both hands as if to ward the other man off. “Even if I wanted to take over, I’ve got seven more months on my enlistment. I won’t be here.”

“You can do most of the work through power of attorney, and I can keep an eye on things until you come back.”

Hunter stood up, moved away from the desk and walked to the wide window that overlooked the acre of tidy green lawn and perfect flower beds. A colorful sunset was spreading across the sky and lengthening shadows from the row of trees at the edge of the yard. The road was lying beyond those trees, the road Hunter had taken so long ago when he’d made his bid for freedom. Strange now that the same road had brought him back. And wasn’t he turning into a damn philosopher all of a sudden?

“That is,” Simon added, “if you plan on coming back.”

Hunter threw the older man a look over his shoulder and saw the expectation, the damn hope shining in his eyes even in the dim light of the study. And Hunter knew he couldn’t fight it anymore. Knew that the only way he’d ever be able to live with himself was to accept the duty that had been waiting for him since childhood.

He knew too, at some deep-seated level, that this is how it was meant to be all along, what he’d been headed toward all his life, despite his attempt to avoid it. Maybe, he told himself, he’d had to go away to see where he really belonged.

“I’ll come back, Simon.”

A delighted smile creased his grandfather’s face, and for one brief moment Hunter actually did feel like the hero he’d always wanted to be. Then reality crashed down. If he was going to be leaving the SEAL and coming home to stay, there were plans to set in motion, decisions to make. And he had to talk to Margie, he told himself.

The old man clapped his hands together and scrubbed his palms against each other. “I knew you’d do the right thing, boy. Eventually.”

A wry smile curved Hunter’s mouth. “Thanks. I think.” Then he shoved one hand across the top of his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I still have to go back to the base at the end of the month.”

“Understood.”

Hunter nodded, turned to face Simon and pulled in a deep breath. Finally, the tension in his chest had loosened. For days now he’d been torn about what to do. Questioning his own loyalties, feeling the tug of home and duty fighting with the call to return to the life he’d built. He’d been engaged in a silent battle within himself, and now that a decision had been made, he could breathe easy.

Yes, it would be hard leaving the Navy, but he was needed here. And, as he felt a slight twinge in his side, he reminded himself that he’d been thinking about the possibility of retirement ever since he’d been shot. So, maybe this was how it was supposed to be.

“What about Margie?”

Hunter focused on his grandfather. “What about her?”

“Well,” Simon said, “if you’re going to stay, there’s no reason for her to go either, is there? You’re already married. And I’ve seen the way you look at her, boy. I’m old, not blind.”

He hadn’t had time to consider all the options here. He’d just this minute decided to retire, for God’s sake. It’s not as if he’d thought everything through. But now that he did think about it, he wondered if Simon wasn’t right. But, “We agreed to divorce.”

“Damn hardheaded-”

Hunter wasn’t willing to budge. He’d make up his own mind about Margie-without well-meant interference. “Simon, don’t push it. Whatever happens between me and Margie is up to us, not you.”

“She makes you happy, Hunter. Or hadn’t you noticed that?”

Happy. With a wife he hadn’t chosen. With a wife he’d suspected for too long was nothing more than a scam artist out for whatever she could finagle out of a lonely old man.

With a woman who set him on fire with a touch.

But damned if he’d let his grandfather run his personal life, too. “You can’t screw with people’s lives, Simon. You can’t arrange everything the way you want it.”

“Don’t see why not, when I can see perfectly clear what should happen,” Simon muttered.

“Because you don’t get to decide my life, Grandfather. And you sure as hell don’t get to decide Margie’s.” He loved the elderly man, but damned if he’d fall into line just because Simon demanded it. And if this was a sign of how things were going to be once he came home and took over the family business at last, then they were in for quite a few battles.

So, Hunter decided, it was best to stand his ground right from the get-go. “Back off of this, Grandfather.”

“You look me in the eye and tell me you don’t care for that girl,” Simon challenged.

Well, that was the trouble, Hunter thought, as he deliberately looked away. He didn’t know what the hell he was feeling at the moment.