A cold sweat broke over the bridge of Delaney’s nose as she shot up in bed, her hands gripping the covers. Her body trembled as she looked wildly around the dark room, her mind trying to process what was happening. Was Hugh here? An icy terror clutched her.

She heard the deep rumble of Corbin’s cry. “Help her! Please!”

Somehow, she managed to find her voice. “Corbin? Are you okay?”

No answer.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to do. She looked at the closed bedroom door, expecting it to burst open any minute. Nothing.

She heard more muffled cries. Sobbing?

A prayer for help sounded in her mind as she sat there, shaking. Finally, she pushed back the covers and got out of bed. Her heart in her throat, she rushed through the bathroom into Corbin’s room. A heady relief covered her, making her go weak in the knees when she realized what was happening. Corbin was having a nightmare.

She stood there, trying to figure out what to do. The tough guy was crying like a baby in his sleep. Compassion washed over her as she went to his bedside. Holding her breath, she touched his shoulder.

“Corbin?”

As he sat up and reached for his gun, she jumped back with a yelp. Terror seized her as she held up her hands. “Don’t shoot. It’s me!”

Corbin shook his head in a daze, trying to focus on her. Then he put the gun down. He sat back, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled so low that she wondered if she’d imagined it.

“You were crying.” The cold of the wood floor seeped through her bare feet, spreading ice up her limbs.

She heard a gulp, realized he was still crying … or at least trying to squelch it. She stepped closer. “Are you okay?”

“It was my fault.” The words came out ragged and hoarse.

“What?”

Long pause. And then another choking sound. “The girl’s death. If I hadn’t gone berserk and started shooting, she’d still be alive today.”

A thousand questions pummeled her mind, ending with, What girl?

He drew in a halting breath, letting out an embarrassed chuckle as he scooted to sit up. “Sorry, I was still half asleep. Scratch those statements.” He ran both hands through his messy hair. “Sorry … you probably think I’m a head case.” He wiped at his tears.

There were two things Delaney was well acquainted with—sorrow and regret. She’d never fault anyone for going through hardships. In fact, she was surprised Tuck’s death wasn’t plaguing her in her sleep. Her mother’s death did often enough. A sliver of moonlight shone in through the window, reflecting off Corbin’s strong jaw. Even Captain America had weaknesses. She got a good look at Corbin. Realized with a jolt that he was shirtless. A blast of heat went through her as she looked at his defined pecs and six pack. Okay, focus on his face, her mind commanded.

“I’m all right. Just a stupid nightmare,” he grumbled.

She clutched her nightgown, knowing how ridiculous she looked in the striped pink and blue gown. She never would’ve bought this for herself in a million years. She’d considered sleeping in her underwear. But that seemed inappropriate considering Corbin was right next door.

He sighed. “I’m okay now. You can go back to bed.”

But he wasn’t okay. She could feel his pain, filling the empty space between them. She wanted to know about the girl who’d been killed … had a right to know. After all, Corbin was the only thing standing between her and a certain death. She needed to know what had happened to him.

She motioned. “Do you care if I sit down?”

“Sure,” he said in surprise.

In the full light of day, Delaney was sure she could come up with a thousand reasons why being here in Corbin’s bedroom wasn’t a good idea. But at this moment, her guard was down. And Corbin needed to talk this out. She didn’t know how she was so tuned into a man she hardly knew, but like it or not, that was the case.

She sat down, hugging her arms. It was frigid in here. “Did you not plug in your heater?”

“No, I like it cold when I sleep. Gram used to say that the healthiest way to sleep was to be able to see your breath at night.”

“I’m surprised I can’t see my breath in here,” she said tartly.

He scooted over and patted the spot beside him. “Come here.”

Her heart pounded. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she squeaked.

“I assure you, I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I just don’t want you to freeze to death while we talk.”

“I could always plug in the heater.”

“Yeah, but it’ll take at least twenty minutes for the room to heat up.”

She spoke through chattering teeth. “I’ll be a popsicle by then.”

The last of her misgivings slipped away in the wake of his pleading expression. Being here with Corbin … this was right … something she didn’t need to be afraid of. The thoughts blew across her heart like a tender whisper, sending a blessed cushion of comfort around her.

Corbin motioned with his head to the spot beside him. That’s all the encouragement she needed. She hopped over and pulled the covers up over her. True to his word, he scooted to the other side, keeping a healthy distance between them.

She angled to face him. “Okay, tell me about the girl.”

* * *

The experience with the SEALs, Doug’s death, it wasn’t something Corbin liked to talk about. But for some reason, he felt like it would be okay to tell Delaney. Maybe it was the sympathetic look on her face, or the fact that she, too, had suffered pain and loss. Or maybe he simply needed to get the words out, unburden his soul. He cleared his throat attempting to gather his thoughts. “For you to understand, I’ll need to tell you from the beginning. When I first became a SEAL.”

The memories rushed out like water from a broken dam as Corbin told Delaney about BUD/S training. How it pushed him past any point he ever thought he could go. How Doug had been there by his side, urging him to keep going. He chuckled, remembering. “Unlike me, Doug grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. As Sutton Smith’s only son, the world was his oyster. He had every reason to be full of himself and yet he was the very opposite—the most down-to-earth guy I’ve ever met.”

Delaney sucked in a breath, looking puzzled. “So, your best friend was Sutton’s son?”

“Yeah. Doug’s the reason I became a SEAL. I would’ve tapped out early on if it hadn’t been for him.” He clenched his fist, bitterness coating his throat. “I should’ve been the one who died, not him.” How many times had he wished he could live that horrible night over again? Somehow taking Doug’s place. Doug had rushed forward to save everyone while he stayed back. How different things might’ve been had he gone with Doug to help?

He looked at Delaney, surprised to see tears glistening in her eyes. She scooted closer and touched his arm, sending electricity surging through him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “What happened?”

While Corbin was trying to decide what to tell her and what to hold back, the whole thing gushed out. He told her about the rescue mission, how he’d gone nuts when Doug was killed, started shooting up the place like Rambo. And finally, how he’d been the cause of the girl losing her life. When the words ran dry, he sat there, a guilty man waiting for the jury’s verdict.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself. You didn’t shoot the girl.”

A hard laugh escaped his throat. “Can’t I? I disobeyed a direct order from my CO. He told me to stand down, that my actions were putting the team and the family at risk. And he was right.” The self-loathing rushed back with a vengeance. But it felt good to say the words out loud to another person.

“It was one moment in time. You lost your head … made a mistake. It could happen to anyone.”

He could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth, thought maybe he’d imagined them because that’s what he wanted to hear. “No,” he finally said, “I was trained to do better. I should’ve kept my cool.”

“No amount of training could prepare you for losing your best friend. What happened afterwards?”

“The situation was investigated. The ballistics test came back unclear if Doug had been killed by enemy or friendly fire. The government slapped a lid on the incident to prevent a public outcry, and I was transferred to another team. I left the SEALs shortly thereafter.” Shame blistered over him, and he could hardly make himself look at Delaney. He forced the words from his dry throat, knowing he had to get them out while he could. “Now that you know what type of man’s protecting you, it might be a good idea to call Sutton and request a replacement. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He looked down at his hands, his gut sinking like a lead balloon. It was good that he was being honest with Delaney. Her life was on the line. She deserved to know what kind of man he really was.

“Look at me.”

The authority in her voice took him by surprise.

Reluctantly, his eyes met hers, and he was struck by the fierceness of her expression.

She cupped his face, the warmth of her skin flowing into his. “You’re a good man. I trust you to keep me safe. You did it once before in the car with Anton, and I know you’ll do it again.”

Her words burned into his chest, kindling an unexpected hope. “Really?” Tears brimmed in his eyes. He felt like such a fool for crying in front of her and yet the emotion was too much to contain.

“Absolutely.”

He chuckled at the reference to Pops. “I can’t believe you met my grandfather one time and are already quoting him,” he said dryly.

“Well, he seems like a smart guy.”

“He’s all right, for an old dude,” he said offhandedly.

A smile tipped her lips, her dark eyes sparking with a hint of mystery that gave him the feeling that no matter how much time he spent around Delaney, it would never be enough. “So, Corbin Spencer, will you still be my pretend boyfriend?”

He looked down at her ridiculous-looking nightgown, his gaze lingering on the ruffles around her neck. “I dunno,” he drawled. “My woman would never wear that.”

She laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

“It’s okay for a nineteenth-century farm girl.”

Her smile grew larger. “You know, I thought the exact same thing. Did Sutton have this hidden away in some trunk?”

“Maybe it belongs to his assistant Agatha. It looks like something an old lady would wear.”

She giggled. “Yes, it does.”

Corbin’s heart felt lighter than it had in a long time … longer than he could even remember. He’d bared his soul to Delaney and she was okay with the things he’d done. He still found it hard to believe, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He leaned in, closing the distance between them. “So,” he said huskily, “would it be okay to give my pretend girlfriend another kiss? For practice?”

Delaney’s cheeks grew flush, but she didn’t retreat. There was a smolder of desire in her eyes that matched the fire igniting in him. “Okay, but only for practice.”

He pulled her into his arms, his lips taking hers. She tipped her head back, a groan sounding in her throat as she slid her arms around his shoulders. This time, he didn’t hold back. He ran his fingers through her hair, their lips moving together in a burst of energy and flames. He was being consumed by this woman. And it was happening so fast, he could hardly process it.

She pulled back, breathing hard. “I think we’ve got that move down pretty good.”

“I believe you’re right.” He grinned. “But I’ll never say no to practice.”

Her eyes grew troubled as she looked around like she just now realized what was happening. “I shouldn’t be here with you.” She shuddered. “I’m not that kind of woman.”

Panic raced through him. She was retreating. It was like a switch suddenly flipped in her brain. She moved to escape, but he caught her arm. “Hey, don’t do this.”

“What?”

“Run … from us.”

She gurgled out a laugh. “There is no us. This is pretend—a charade invented to keep me safe.”

He let go of her arm and trailed a finger down a tendril of her hair. “This is real.” His eyes locked with hers. “You know it.” He could tell from her expression that he was right.

“I can’t get involved with you right now. Not when we’re in the middle of all this.”

He held her gaze. “Afterwards?”

She shrugged, giving him a small, sad smile. “Afterwards, we’ll see.”

He could tell she had no intention of entertaining a relationship with him, and it cut. All the angst rushed back. “Because of what I told you? About my past?” It was stupid to think she could accept him, that anyone could. After what he’d done.

“No. Because of me … and my past.” Her eyes teared up. “I’m damaged goods.”

He touched her face. “No, you’re an angel … the most beautiful, intoxicating woman I’ve ever been around.” He could tell from the doubt in her eyes that she didn’t believe him. “I wish you could see what I see. You pulled yourself up from nothing. Made something of yourself. You looked fear in the eyes and kept moving forward. All of those things are heroic.”

She drew back from him, a tear dribbling down her cheek. Hastily, she brushed it away with her palm. “I need to get some rest … in my own room.”

Maybe they were a lost cause. He was no psychiatrist, couldn’t imagine all that Delaney had been through to bring her to this point. He didn’t know how to reach her. Every time he felt like he was getting close, she retreated even farther away. A bleak emptiness settled over him as he nodded. “All right. Good night.”

She scuttled out of the bed. “Good night,” she said over her shoulder, rushing out of the room.