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A Soldier's Honour
Regan Black
One soldier's long-lost secret is alive and wellWhen a security snafu turns his world upside down, Major Matt Riley reunites with his long-lost son.And fourteen years later, the military man is still captivated by his ex, Bethany Trent. Matt must convince her that their new family bond is for keeps – but first, he must keep them alive…
One soldier’s long-lost secret is alive and well
Regan Black’s thrilling new miniseries: The Riley Code
When a security snafu turns his world upside down, Major Matt Riley reunites with his long-lost son. And fourteen years later, the military man is still captivated by his ex, Bethany Trent. Matt must convince her that their new family bond is for keeps—but first, he must keep them alive...
REGAN BLACK, a USA TODAY bestselling author, writes award-winning, action-packed novels featuring kick-butt heroines and the sexy heroes who fall in love with them. Raised in the Midwest and California, she and her family, along with their adopted greyhound, two arrogant cats and a quirky finch, reside in the South Carolina Lowcountry, where the rich blend of legend, romance and history fuels her imagination.
Also By Regan Black (#ub017a5ec-faf0-5d43-853e-c074a2e5f3b3)
The Riley Code
A Soldier’s Honor
Escape Club Heroes
Safe in His Sight
A Stranger She Can Trust
Protecting Her Secret Son
Braving the Heat
The Coltons of Shadow Creek
Killer Colton Christmas
“Special Agent Cowboy”
The Coltons of Red Ridge
Colton P.I. Protector
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A Soldier’s Honour
Regan Black
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09355-2
A SOLDIER’S HONOUR
© 2018 Regan Black
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“You’re angry,” Bethany murmured.
“Bethany, you’re one of the strongest, most stubborn people I know. What good would arguing have done? All this time I’ve kept out of the way, giving you space and privacy at every turn. Everything you said would make you happy, I agreed. Now I want more.”
“More?” Her voice cracked. “Why are you doing this?”
“Last night you said you’d give me whatever I wanted,” he reminded her.
“And look how that ended,” she muttered. “I keep hurting you, Matt.”
“Not intentionally,” he said. He kissed the soft, delicate skin where her neck and shoulder merged. Her body seemed to sigh in response. “I want you. Trust that.” He turned her slowly within the circle of his arms. Her gaze was fixed on his chest and he tipped up her chin, the moonlight painting her face in a lovely glow. “Trust me.”
As soon as his lips touched hers he knew. Nothing had changed...
Dear Reader (#ub017a5ec-faf0-5d43-853e-c074a2e5f3b3),
Allow me to introduce the Rileys. Rooted in love and bound by honor and heritage, this close-knit family maintains the highest expectations of what military service entails both at home and abroad.
During my husband’s thirty years of military service there were moments that left me wondering what I’d married into. The laughter we shared over silly things—like whether POV meant point of view (as it does for authors) or personally owned vehicle (as it does for the army)—was offset by the tears and stress of deployment separations and other challenges.
We made good friends along the way and came out of the experience stronger as a couple and as a family. It takes determination and no small amount of courage to do what needs to be done, especially when doing so isn’t much fun.
As the eldest of the five Riley children, Major Matt Riley followed his father’s footsteps from West Point into a career as a US Army officer. Through it all, he has done everything in his power to uphold the standards of the army as well as the strong values he was raised on.
Having a child out of wedlock—and keeping both the mother and child a secret for fourteen years—will definitely change the family dynamics...
Live the adventure!
Regan
This book is dedicated to military families everywhere. Thank you for courageously serving through love, care and support of the men and women in our armed forces.
Contents
Cover (#u8d7162c5-426e-52ba-ab1d-8246e899e0af)
Back Cover Text (#ubb6510ae-f9d0-5403-97ab-00099acd8317)
About the Author (#u595fbec5-db2f-5ee4-bce6-2c40cef824b5)
Booklist (#uf87d36f2-8925-5186-b311-9dedf91acc7e)
Title Page (#ub8fa1124-0356-594a-98f8-e2f916bcf8c9)
Copyright (#u5c13643b-6819-53d5-a9fb-737cf90594bf)
Introduction (#uffada952-8c86-5d4f-80ae-2b768e1a5e06)
Dear Reader (#u268878ff-e7fe-5772-98c0-ee5540fa8dbe)
Dedication (#u9e95bab8-47e1-536d-a9cf-3ad8442c61ee)
Chapter 1 (#ud7a6c621-da6b-5f7e-85bf-aaaeb303eebe)
Chapter 2 (#u151ecc25-cea1-58a8-aa4a-139c3885ebe6)
Chapter 3 (#u5ff0dcab-457a-5d27-a09f-f07db2047f18)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ub017a5ec-faf0-5d43-853e-c074a2e5f3b3)
Bethany Trent pulled into her driveway and checked the clock on the dashboard. Her son, Caleb, still had thirty minutes of soccer practice. She’d arranged for him to have a ride home so she could swing by the grocery store and get a head start on dinner. Overhead, tall white clouds puffed slowly across the rich blue of the October sky, and she paused to appreciate the view as she unloaded the car. This was her favorite time of year, with the heat of summer gone and winter still weeks away.
If she hustled, she could get chocolate chip cookies—his favorite—into the oven before he made it home. Motherhood had taught her that teenage boys were easier to manage and more prone to chatter over food, particularly when their mouths were full. She figured the two of them had earned hazard pay for surviving his angst-ridden year of thirteen, and she was grateful that the sharpest of those edges had smoothed out over the past year.
As was the habit of children, change was inevitable. With Caleb, the changes and growth spurts often happened before she was ready. With his fifteenth birthday just over a month away, he’d started pushing back and, in some instances, shutting her out. His grades were still good, and he hung out with the same friends, but something had shifted. A girl, maybe? She didn’t know because so far she hadn’t found the key to open him up.
While putting away the groceries and gathering the ingredients for the cookies, she let her mind wander through the various approaches. She understood the logic and timing as Caleb asserted his independence. She’d been a teenager herself and recalled that internal tug-of-war between wanting to be autonomous within the steady framework and safety net of her wonderful parents.
She set out the butter to soften, preheated the oven and stirred dry ingredients. Cookies would never make up for the fact that Caleb was still one parental unit short. The pang of guilt she hadn’t felt in years prickled under her skin. As a single mom, she’d counted herself blessed with Caleb from day one. He was an amazing kid, who was growing toward a remarkable adulthood. He was a wonderful teenager, who had never met his father.
Beating the butter and sugar, and then adding the eggs, she coached herself a bit. It wasn’t as if she’d hidden everything from him, only the name. Through the years, when he’d ask, she’d assured Caleb his father was an upstanding man, who was committed to his Military career. She’d told him over and over that his father cared and provided for him; he just had to do it from a distance.
Caleb had never demanded to learn his father’s identity. He’d never thrown a fit, insisted on a meeting or raged at her about the situation. All things she’d heard other mothers cope with, usually in the case of divorce. Yes, she had an amazing kid.
Still, as she finished mixing the cookie dough, the scent of chocolate wafting up as she stirred in the chocolate chips, she worried. If having a father-in-absentia was the source of his recent withdrawal and curt moments, what would be the best next step?
She cut short the litany of “what-if” scenarios that crowded her mind. Caleb had given her no signals of the precise trouble weighing on him. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t help either one of them. Please let it be girl trouble, she thought.
Well, the cookies were her strategy for today, and with luck, they would soften him up. Dropping the dough on baking sheets, she reminded herself she’d been strong enough for everything else, from giving birth to teething to sitting through the Alien movies while he recuperated from wrist surgery. She slid the first dozen cookies into the oven and set the timer. Telling Caleb the whole truth about his father was likely to expose her to a world of hurt, but she’d do it.
She’d do anything to ensure her son continued to feel safe, valued and loved. Maybe rather than aching over the past, explaining the circumstances and their choices would grant her a sense of relief and closure. And maybe pigs would sprout wings and put on an aerial display in that pretty afternoon sky.
The oven timer went off at the same moment the security system chimed and announced that the front door was open. She’d count that perfect timing as a good sign.
“I’m home,” Caleb called out as the door closed with a thud.
“Kitchen,” she replied, pulling the finished cookies from the oven and sliding the next baking sheet inside.
She turned as he walked in, his backpack slung over one shoulder, cleats dangling by their laces. There were grass stains on his knees, the side of his shorts and one shoulder of his T-shirt. The ripeness of his practice gear almost overpowered the aroma of freshly baked cookies. With his hair mussed and damp with sweat, he took a deep breath and a smile bloomed across his face. The one dimple, inherited from his father, creased his cheek. Here was her heart, her whole world. Today, her normal influx of love and pride was overshadowed by the lingering remorse that she’d kept Caleb to herself all these years.
No. She would not presume to know the trouble. She’d wait for him to confide in her. And she would answer his questions honestly and completely—if he asked. The answer to “why” had been rattling around in her head since the beginning: leaving his father out of the equation had been the best decision for everyone at the time. At twenty, they’d both been too young, with too much on the line to try to build a life together. It would have been a disaster.
Every year around this time, she debated broaching the topic first and asking Caleb if he wanted to extend an invitation for his father to become involved in his life. Every year, she managed to pull back before she blurted out the words and changed everything.
The idea of sharing her son wasn’t the problem. It was the potential for a disastrous fallout that scared her. Opening herself to those old emotions made her feel vulnerable in ways she’d never learned to overcome. She and Caleb were a family of two, a team where the dynamics were clear. For years, she’d chosen to give Caleb that familiar stability over the unsettling unknowns of a father on a high-profile Military career path.
After dropping the mail on the counter for her, he kept going toward the laundry room, where he dumped his cleats and backpack and stripped off his sweaty socks and shin guards. “How much longer on the cookies?” he asked.
She checked the oven timer. “Give this first dozen another minute before I take them off the cookie sheet. Then they’re fair game.” She plucked a spatula from the utensil carousel on the counter. “Did you have a good day?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugged and eyed the bowl of raw cookie dough.
“Don’t.” Bethany laughed. “I saved you the beater. It’s in the fridge.”
“Sweet!” He lunged for the refrigerator and pulled out the treat.
She pounced on his good mood and stole a hug before he could protest or dodge. Leaning away, she fanned her face. “Whew! Finish that and go grab a shower. You stink.”
“You always say that’s the smell of hard work,” he joked around a mouthful of cookie dough. He hooked a finger around the beater, dragging another chunk of dough into his mouth.
