An Officer And A Millionaire

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?