Page 114 of Cowboys & Navy SEALs

“Thanks,” Corbin said curtly as he continued to the mansion. It was in a private area of an exclusive section of Coronado Island, overlooking the San Diego Bay. Corbin had spent a handful of weekends here lounging by the pool and doing various other leisure activities, but never without Doug. His gut twisted as he thought about his best friend and fellow SEAL member, who’d been killed during a rescue mission in the Philippines when their platoon was ambushed. It had been seven months since Doug had passed, but tonight on the grounds of his estate the wound felt as raw as it had in the beginning.

When he reached the mansion, a valet attendant approached. “May I park your car, Sir?”

Corbin got out and tossed the keys to the attendant in exchange for a claim ticket. Then he smoothed down his white tuxedo jacket and adjusted the bowtie. He wasn’t looking forward to the pretense of making small talk with a group of strangers at some party. And the worst part … wearing this stupid monkey suit constricting his shoulders like a strait jacket.

Even though the event was black-tie, Corbin had planned to wear nice jeans and a sports jacket. But then, this afternoon, a tux was delivered to his room compliments of Sutton Smith. Too bad it was about a half size too small. Corbin couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel to strip the thing off and put on jeans and a t-shirt.

He ran a quick hand through his spiky hair, figuring he was as ready now as he’d ever be. His gaze took in the sprawling English Tudor mansion. The only reason Corbin knew the architectural style was because Doug mentioned that his dad had brought in an English architect during construction to make sure the style was authentic. Sutton Smith’s enormous wealth was staggering, and yet Doug had been so down-to-earth.

The place was brimming with high-society people dressed to the nines. As Corbin strode up the front steps, he thought back to the phone call that brought him here. Corbin was surprised to hear from his late friend’s dad. He hadn’t spoken to Sutton since Doug’s funeral. At that time, Sutton was withdrawn … angry at the world. Corbin didn’t blame the man. He felt the same way about Doug’s death.

Sutton opened the conversation by inquiring what Corbin was doing professionally. Then he extended an invitation to a gathering. Corbin grunted as he looked at the large staff of servers dressed in uniforms, scurrying to wait on guests. When he heard the word “gathering,” Corbin assumed there might be twenty or thirty people present. But this was a full-fledged soirée with more people than he could count.

Corbin was currently living in Denver, Colorado and was short on funds. Before he could make up an excuse about why he couldn’t attend the gathering, Sutton explained briskly that he’d already purchased Corbin a first-class ticket for the following day and booked him a room at The Luxe, a five-star hotel. Sutton went on to say that he had a proposition for Corbin and that he would pay him twenty-five hundred dollars for his time.

A free trip and an extra twenty-five hundred bucks were too good to turn down. Besides, Corbin’s curiosity was piqued. He couldn’t imagine what Sutton Smith wanted to talk to him about. He scoped the crowd, hoping to catch sight of Sutton. No luck.

He glanced at the string quartet off to the side, playing a merry tune. All around him, people were engaged in lively conversation. The air crackled with the excited hum of people enjoying themselves. The corners of his lips pulled down. There was nothing worse than being a loner in a crowd. Hopefully, he’d find Sutton soon.

“Would you like an appetizer?”

Delaney smiled politely before placing two spinach triangle pastries on her plate. “Thank you.”

The server nodded and moved to the next guest.

It was too bad that Milo couldn’t be here tonight. Then Delaney wouldn’t feel so out of place. Milo had arranged her meeting with Sutton Smith, then realized that his girlfriend’s son had the starring role in a school play. She sighed, taking a bite of the pastry. It was dryer than a chunk of sawdust. She coughed, trying to clear the crumbs from her throat. Now she needed a drink of water. She signaled to the closest server.

“How may I help you?” he said in a brisk, formal tone.

She touched her throat. “Could I get a glass of water?”Before my windpipe closes off.

“Certainly.” He raised his hand and motioned to a girl across the room. She hurried to Delaney’s side and gave her a glass.

Delaney took a few gulps.Okay, no more pastries.She glanced around the room, looking for a place to sit. When she first arrived and told the greeter her name, she was directed to an older lady who introduced herself as Agatha.

“Sutton is expecting you,” Agatha said, “but he’s tied up with guests. As soon as he’s done, he’ll find you. In the meantime, make yourself at home.”

Delaney let out a long sigh. From the looks of things, it was bound to be a long night. She really couldn’t complain though because she was just glad Sutton agreed to meet with her. Ever since Hugh had threatened her in the hospital, Delaney had been beside herself. Right after it happened, she called Milo, bawling so hard that she could hardly get the words out. He’d met her at a coffee shop, and she told him the whole sordid story. At first, Milo told her to go to the police. Then she explained how ruthless Hugh was and how she feared the police wouldn’t be able to protect her against him.

Finally, Milo said he might have another option. Delaney had laughed out loud when that option turned out to be billionaire philanthropist, Sutton Smith. Then Milo told her a story about his girlfriend Leslie and how Sutton had saved her from her abusive husband Howie. But Sutton didn’t stop there. He also gave Leslie money to pay for her son’s leukemia treatments. Those treatments had saved the boy’s life.

It was hard to believe that someone like Sutton Smith would do something so kind, asking nothing in return. Sure, he was a philanthropist. But most people like him simply donated money to charity and left it at that. Milo told Delaney that he would putout feelers, see if he could get in touch with Sutton and explain her situation.

The whole thing sounded farfetched, but Delaney was desperate enough to try anything. Fear was eating her alive. She had no doubt that Hugh would make good on his threat, and Tuck’s prognosis wasn’t looking good. The bullet wound had gotten infected. The doctors were amazed that he was still hanging on. Delaney had spent the last few days in a fog, hardly eating or sleeping. She’d tried to work, but it was impossible to get into a creative frame of mind with this hanging over her.

Even though Tuck had been so horrible to her, she didn’t want to be responsible for his death. And then to add Hugh’s threat into the mix, it was too much to deal with. She felt like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Prayer was the only thing keeping her functioning. She’d been praying every day for a miracle. And today, the dark curtain of clouds had parted for one tiny second, giving her hope that help might be around the corner.

Milo called this morning, telling her the good news. “Sutton agreed to meet with you at his estate. But he’s having a party, so it’ll have to be afterwards.”

“I’ll just wait and go after the party’s over,” Delaney had said.

“No, Sutton’s assistant was adamant that you come to the party.”

Milo couldn’t remember the lady’s name he spoke with, but Delaney was sure it was the older woman she’d met earlier … Agatha.

The plate of uneaten pastries was starting to feel heavy in her hand. She didn’t want to hold the blasted thing all night. She caught the nearest server. “Can I give this to you?” Her feet were aching. Why hadn’t she worn lower heels?

The man nodded. “Of course. May I take your glass also?”

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