“Thank you,” he said, standing next to Bullet and patting the horse’s neck.

“You’re welcome. If you need anything, just let me know.”

He nodded.

She walked back toward her car. When she was nearly there, he called, “Wait.”

She looked at him.

“Can you come with me?”

“Of course. I’ll clear the day.”

“I won’t be good company. I’ll probably act like a jerk.”

“You do have practice.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “Nice. Potshots at the cripple.”

“I do what I can.” She opened her car door. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I wish there was something magic I could say to make it all better.”

“Me, too.”

THE RICH REALLY were different, Mitch thought as he moved down the steps of the private plane Skye had arranged for their flight to Phoenix. A black Town Car waited on the tarmac of the private airport. She joined him in the back of the car.

“You doing all right?” she asked.

“Nice car.”

“I thought it would be easier to have someone else do the driving.” She looked at him. “You don’t want to tell me if you’re okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about my feelings.” They were too close to the surface. The funeral was going to be hard enough to get through as it was.

“I understand,” she said and touched his arm.

She’d dressed in a black suit and pulled her hair back. She looked dignified and serious. Did dealing with this make her remember Ray’s death?

For the first time since he’d heard the news about Pete, he allowed himself to think about what she’d said to him. That while Ray would always matter, she’d never stopped loving him.

Was it true? Did he want it to be true? Could he trust her?

Not the time or place, he told himself, but he was glad she was with him.

She put her hand in his. “If you need to yell or fight,” she said quietly, “just let me know. I’ll argue or be annoying. I’m good at both.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

They arrived at the church. Skye got out of the car, then waited for Mitch to join her. He took so long, she wondered if he’d changed his mind. Then he climbed out and stood on the sidewalk, looking as if someone had shot him.

There were well over a hundred people outside the church. Mitch stayed close as he introduced her to a few people he knew. They were all men, SEALs she would guess. Strong and confident, they moved easily through the crowd. But there was a restlessness about them-as though if they stopped moving they would have to deal with the loss of one of their own.

The service was difficult to get through, Skye thought two hours later, and she’d never known Pete. Several people had told moving stories about what he’d been like as a young man. Mitch talked about how Pete had saved him. He glossed over what must have been a terrifying and dangerous situation, instead focusing on how Pete was a funny, easygoing man who didn’t believe he was a hero. Sort of like Mitch himself.

Once they went to the graveside, they stood through a military burial. At the end, an obviously pregnant widow came up and spoke to Mitch. Skye didn’t hear what she was saying, but it was enough for Mitch to tightly hug her, then turn to Skye and say they had to leave.

He was quiet on the drive back to the airport. Once they’d cleared Phoenix airspace on their way back to Dallas, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

“It should have been me,” he said quietly. “I should have been the one to die. Not Pete.”

“You weren’t even there,” she told him. “How could you have taken his place?”

“I don’t know, but this is wrong. He’s a good guy.”

“From what I learned about him today, he wouldn’t want anyone to take his place. That wasn’t his way. He died in a firefight, doing something he believed in. Am I wrong?”

Mitch didn’t look at her. “It should have been me. He’s got a kid he’ll never see. A wife. A family.”

Skye wanted to tell Mitch he could have all those things, too. It hurt so much to see him this way, to feel his pain, and not be able to do anything to help.

“You’re the one who’s here,” she murmured. “Wouldn’t Pete tell you not to waste the opportunity?”

“Maybe.”

She wanted to push but didn’t. Later they would talk, but for now she forced herself to stay quiet.

They’d driven together in his truck. When they reached Glory’s Gate, she leaned over and turned off the engine.

“What are you doing?”

“Erin’s spending the night with Lexi and Cruz. My dad is gone. Come inside.”

He hesitated. “I won’t be very good company.”

“We’re not going to talk.”

She thought he might refuse. That he would wait until she got out of the truck, then drive away. But he didn’t. He collected the keys and followed her inside.

She led the way upstairs, to her bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Once there, she stepped close and put her hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then pressed her lips to his.

He reacted instantly, grabbing her around the waist, holding on as if he would never let go. His mouth claimed hers, demanding, taking, then suddenly gentling to barely a whisper of contact. He kissed her over and over again, tender kisses that offered every part of him.

Surrender wasn’t necessary-she’d given herself to him the first time they’d made love nine years ago and there was a part of her she’d never reclaimed. It came to life now, burning for him, but also feeling, embracing, wanting more than just the passion that always flared between them. She wanted the connection.

He ran his hands up and down her back, then pushed off her suit jacket. It fell to the floor. He licked her lower lip. She parted for him and he swept inside.

Their tongues played a game of tag, teasing, dancing, before the need began to grow. She tilted her head. He deepened the kiss. She pushed off his jacket. It was the first time she’d ever seen him wear a suit and he’d looked good. But right now she wanted to touch bare skin, be close to him. Make love.

He stroked her face then moved his fingers into her hair. One by one, he pulled the pins free until her hair tumbled down her back. He buried his fingers in the soft curls.

She worked on his tie, first loosening it, then tugging it until she could let it drop to the floor. He unzipped her skirt and it puddled around her feet.

She stepped out of her pumps. He moved down her back to her butt, where he grabbed her and squeezed. She shifted toward him, bringing her belly in contact with his arousal.

He was already hard. She rubbed against him, wanting to feel his erection, wanting to know he wanted this, too. She was already wet and hungry.

He slid his hands under her blouse, up to her breasts. There he made quick work of the front closure on her bra. He pushed the cups aside and cupped her curves in his big hands.

He continued to kiss her. His warm fingers stroking her skin made it difficult to think. When he brushed her nipples with his thumbs, fire shot through her. She wanted to cry out, but contented herself with a soft moan, then closed her mouth around his tongue and sucked. He tensed. Then he backed her toward the bed.

When her thighs bumped the mattress, she lost her balance and abruptly sat. He unfastened the buttons and shrugged out of his shirt, then reached for his belt buckle, only to pause. His eyes locked with hers.

She didn’t have to ask what was wrong-she knew. Just like she knew his hesitation had as much to do with him as with her.

They’d had sex twice before. It had been hot and fast and possibly safer for him because they’d never undressed. She’d never actually seen him naked since his return. She’d never had to deal with his amputation directly and he’d never had to deal with her reaction.

Without saying anything, while still holding his gaze, she pushed him back a step so she could stand. She pulled off her blouse and let her bra fall to the ground. Then she stepped out of her black panties. When she was completely naked, she took his hand and guided it to between her thighs.

“I want you,” she whispered, moaning as he explored her swollen center.

He rubbed all over, sliding against that one spot of pleasure before thrusting a finger inside of her. She grabbed onto his shoulders to keep herself from falling. Her eyes fluttered closed.

He moved in and out, filling her, then leaving her empty and wanting. Her insides tightened around him, trying to get more. There was something about the way he touched her-it had never taken much to get her over the top.

“Skye,” he whispered, as he withdrew his hand. “We have to talk.”

She did her best not to whimper that talking wasn’t what she needed right now.

She put her hands on his shoulders and smiled at him. “So talk.”

“I’m having trouble concentrating. You’re naked.”

She smiled. “I know. I want you to be comfortable.”

He glanced down at his erection. “Comfortable isn’t the word I’d use.” He returned his gaze to her face. “It’s not horrible, but it’s a shock.”

“I’m pretty clear on what to expect.” She’d been doing some reading online. She’d seen pictures. None of which had been Mitch, but she was reasonably confident she could manage without reacting.

“I want to be inside of you. I want to be on top.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure how to make that work.”

Why would he have a problem being…

Leverage, she thought, answering her own question. Everything would be different. He couldn’t brace himself the same way.

“Then we’ll just have to practice and practice until we get it right,” she said with a smile. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make because that’s just the kind of person I am.”

He didn’t return her smile. She read the worry in his eyes and wished she knew how to make him feel better. Probably the only way to reassure him was to go through the experience.