Bayou Heat (15 page)

His eyes were suddenly so bleak, she couldn’t resist reaching up and smoothing the
taut skin around his mouth.

“I wish I could help. Whatever it is.”

He stood still, allowing her to stroke his skin. “You do help,” he said roughly.

“If I understood …”

“You’d run hard and fast,
chèr
. Trust me.” He pressed a heartbreakingly gentle kiss on her fingertips, then tugged
her hand away. “You don’t want to know any more about me. Just do your job here,
chèr
. I’ll do my best to see that you’re left alone to do it.”

“That’s just it, Teague. I do want to know more about you. Good, bad, I don’t care.
It’s all part of what you are. Who you are.” Her voice dropped. “I want to know you.”

He jerked his gaze away, uttering a curse under his breath. He looked back at her,
then pulled her head to his, kissing her hard, until neither of them could
breathe. Still holding her head between his hands, he looked into her eyes, his breath
sharp and uneven.

“That’s what scares me most,
ange
. I want you to know me. And I’m scared to death once you do, you’ll walk out of my
life forever.”

Teague pulled the bateau to the dock and quickly tied it off. Three hours. It felt
like a lifetime had passed since he’d bared his soul to Erin, then slipped into his
boat and left her standing there, her fingers pressed to her soft lips.

It had taken everything in him to leave. He should have arranged an escort back to
the
hounfour
, but he’d been so close to the brink, so close to saying things he shouldn’t, doing
things he couldn’t …

Swearing none too softly, he pulled himself onto the dock and made his way up the
path. He hadn’t been able to find out any more about the
gris-gris
, and he was only halfway through clearing his desk at the Eight Ball and getting
orders put in when he’d heard from Skeeter. The deal was set for Sunday night. In
Bayou Bruneaux. The logistics of pulling this off right in the middle of one of Belisaire’s
rituals was a migraine waiting to happen.

Arnaud would be there along with the Haitian contacts Teague had been working on for
the last eighteen months. But Skeeter had uncovered a tidbit of information that had
just raised the stakes tenfold for everyone involved.

Arnaud’s boss, the man he acted as buyer for. The man that no one, not Teague, not
his superiors, had been able to trace. They didn’t have so much as a name or a description.
Just the knowledge that he was headquartered in the area. And now it looked as if
he might show. The buy down on this deal was apparently too important to trust to
a second in command.

If they could nail him …

He’d have Haitian and U.S. authorities nailing the suppliers offshore while he and
Skeet and their team nailed the agents and the mainland buyer and supplier to points
all over the States. A major drug channel into the bayou and the entire country would
be shut down.

His bayou. He’d gotten on to this case when they tracked the buyer to Louisiana. When
the location hit too close to home, he’d asked to be assigned directly to the case
as the middleman. Coming home had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. But Belisaire
refused to understand there was danger she couldn’t control or contain.

She’d accepted his return with surprisingly few questions, which made Teague suspect
she knew more about his true role there than she’d ever let on. All he wanted to do
was bring this deal off, make sure she wasn’t caught in the net, and slip away again.

But he’d gotten caught in a net he hadn’t seen.

Erin McClure.

Sunday night was taking on nightmarish qualities for him. Thank God, at least, she
wouldn’t be in the bayou that night, since he couldn’t accompany her. But try as he
might to get his head in the cold, unbiased mode necessary to pull off an operation
of this magnitude, he couldn’t shake that moment on the dock when she said she wanted
to know the man he was.

God, he’d never wanted so badly to be that man. The right man.

But one way or another, his role here would end Sunday. And along with it, his role
in Erin’s life.

To take any more from her now, no matter how desperately he craved it, would be unfair
to her. And, no matter how much he’d like to believe otherwise, to him as well.

Erin was waiting for him on the front porch. Just looking at her made his chest ache.
Definitely time to back off.

She grinned when she saw him and hopped down the steps. More time, he thought, I need
more time to steel myself against what she does to me.

But there was no more time. She was here, in front of him.

“You’ll never believe how great this afternoon turned out to be.”

“Tell me about it while we walk to the dock.” If his overly abrupt tone bothered her,
she didn’t let on. She fairly skipped beside him. He’d never seen her so wired.

God, he wanted to touch her. Taste her. Absorb
some of that positive
vigueur
into himself. Infuse his empty soul with her spirit.

“Belisaire let me take samples. Samples, Teague! Do you know what this means?” Her
breath was shallow and rapid and he knew if he touched her pulse right now it would
be jack rabbit fast.

He curled his fingers into his palms. “I can imagine.”

“I have to get back to the lab. Can you take me there? Or I can call Marshall. Or
take a cab.” Her words tumbled out in a rush. She turned in front of him, walking
backward as she talked. “This is more than I’d hoped for. I’ll get the second grant
for sure.”

“Sounds like you’ll be busy in the lab for a while. Just make sure Marshall or I know
where you are at all times.”

Even his autocratic demand didn’t dampen her high spirits. “No problem. I’ll be working,
eating, and sleeping at the lab for at least a week. Probably longer.” She twirled
away and moved on down the path. “God, I wish Mac was here.”

“Mac?” he asked, then scowled at the slip.

She slowed and let him catch up. “My father.”

“He’d be proud, I’m sure.”

Erin snorted. “Pride has nothing to do with this. He wouldn’t care who or how it was
done, just that it had and he could be part of it. Which is exactly how I am. Oh,
to see his face in the lab.” She patted her bulging backpack. “To work with him on
this.”

Teague slipped his hand in hers. He had to touch her. Be touched by her. “Sounds like
you have a lot of
respect for him. I imagine he would think the same of you as well.”

Eyes shining, she leaned up and bussed him loudly on the cheek. “If he thought about
it, maybe.” She laughed. “He was always more involved with specimens and research
than something as fleeting and insubstantial as people’s emotions and feelings. But
I understood that. He was an amazing scientist. His ability to focus and let his incredible
brain spin out on multiple tangents. He never forgot anything. Incredible man.”

“Yes, he must have been,” Teague said quietly, thinking that the man’s greatest accomplishment
was standing before him, totally unaware of how special and rare she was. Totally
unaware of just how intensely aware he was of that fact.

“I guess this makes up for Sunday.” He groped for conversation, anything to keep him
from pulling her into his arms and never letting her go.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?”

Frowning, he pulled her to a halt. “Tell me what?”

“Belisaire granted me permission to attend.”

“She what? No, Erin.”

His sharp words managed to penetrate her euphoria. “I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t want you here on Sunday.” In fact, if he could have her out of the state,
he’d feel much better.

“Well, you really don’t have much to say about this, Teague.”

“Erin, we still have no idea who is threatening you. Stepping into the middle of a
ritual, especially a private one …” A stubborn frown settled on her face and he
bit off an oath. “They are generally wild and can easily get out of control. Even
Belisaire understands that, which is why I can’t believe she’d okay this.”

“She asked me to come up early and watch her prepare so I could observe and make notes.
She wasn’t going to let me stay for the actual ceremony, but we discussed it—”

“Discussed it? Erin, for all we know it’s one of her initiates that is feeling threatened
by you. Anything could happen.” He turned and stalked a few feet away, raking his
hand through his hair. Nothing he said was going to dissuade her, he knew that. “Damn
Belisaire,” he ground out. “She knows about the
petro gris-gris
. I can’t believe she’d allow this.”

“I’m sure she has her reasons, Teague, but—”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,
chèr
,” he broke in, striding back to where she stood. “But one thing you have to understand
about Belisaire, she serves her interests first, her followers second, and everyone
else as she sees fit. Don’t ever forget that, Erin. God knows it took me long enough
to figure it out.”

“I can take care of myself, Teague. Believe it or not I’ve managed just fine on my
own in situations far more volatile than this one.”

He took her by the shoulders, gripping harder than he should. “You don’t know what
the hell you’re getting into here, Erin. I do!”

“Then tell me, dammit!” she railed back. “I’m an observer, I won’t be involved. What
are you afraid of?”

He hauled her closer, pushing his face in hers. “I’m afraid you’ll get caught up in
what’s going on and won’t
see the danger until it’s too late. I’m afraid that I won’t be there to see it for
you.” His voice dropped. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stand it if something ever
happens to you. I’m afraid I’m falling in love with you and there’s nothing I can
do to stop it.”

She gasped. “Oh, Teague.”

“You’re killing me, Erin.”

She pulled his head closer, then buried her face in his neck, holding him tightly.
Against his jaw, she whispered, “Nothing will happen. This is too important to me.
I know how to be careful, how not to be seen. I was taught by the best, Teague. You
have to trust me.”

He held her tightly, his heart warring with his mind. The need to tell her what was
really going on in the bayou that night, knowing it was his only hope in keeping her
away, was almost undeniable.

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to cause you more pain,
Teague. I don’t want to worry you, add to whatever burden it is you carry.” She kissed
him, the tender pressure of her lips on his shattering his heart. “But don’t ask me
to stay away. Please.”

“Would you?”

She held his gaze. “I think I would do almost anything for you.” Then she added, “You’re
not the only one who’s afraid here, Teague.”

He kissed her gently. Then it came to him. The one way he might be able to make her
understand without compromising his responsibility to his job. “Then do one thing
for me.”

“What?”

“I want to show you something. I know you want to get to the lab but—”

“I’ll go.”

He released a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. “Thank you,
ange
.”

“I want to understand. If this will help, then the lab can wait.”

They were silent as Teague maneuvered the bateau farther up the bayou. Erin’s mind
was reeling with everything that had happened in the last several hours.

But demanding center stage in her mind was Teague’s confession that he was falling
in love with her.

It wasn’t until he’d uttered the words that she realized how desperately she wanted
to hear them. How close they were to the tip of her own tongue. Only his obvious displeasure
with the fact had kept her silent.

They rounded a lazy bend and Teague moved the boat toward shore. Erin scanned the
gnarled cypress root shoreline for a track or some landmark. Nothing. But one quick
glance at Teague—all she dared—showed he obviously knew exactly where they were headed.

He tossed a line over one of the heavier exposed roots and climbed out. Once he had
the boat secure, he turned to help her. His hands on her arms and waist made her heart
beat faster. Hell, everything about this man made her pulse pound.

“Watch your step. The path is a few feet in.”

He held her hand and helped her tiptoe across the exposed roots until they were on
the somewhat more
stable, marshier ground. She spied the trail. It was wider than the ones leading to
the
hounfour
, yet Teague held on to her hand as she followed behind him. The contact with his
skin, with his warmth, felt intensely vital to her. Her grip tightened instinctively.

Her body hummed when he very deliberately squeezed back. She had no idea where he
was leading her, or where their relationship was headed. But nothing could have deterred
her at that moment from finding out.

Several minutes later they came to a small clearing. The swamp was slowly reclaiming
the area, but it was still open enough to make out the charred ruins of a tiny house.
Only part of the stilt frame and the rear quarter were left, though they, too, were
being encroached on by vines and new vegetation.

Teague stopped several yards from where the front steps would have been. Erin watched
him without speaking. He was staring at the moldering shell so intently, she wasn’t
sure he even knew she was standing beside him.

His hand tightened on hers, and after a long moment he turned to face her. She swallowed
a gasp at the anguish and pain on his face.

“Teague?”

“I was born here.”

Her mouth opened, but she could think of nothing to say. Maybe there was nothing for
her to say. It was his need to speak that had brought them here. The dozens of questions
teeming in her mind were abruptly dismissed
by her need to be there for him, for whatever it was he needed to unburden onto her.

“My mother lived here. Belisaire’s people built this for her when she turned twenty-one.
She was to be the next
mambo
. All the people treated her as one. This was their tribute to her.” He moved forward,
stopping near one of the support beams that had held the house above the dangers of
the swamp. “She didn’t want it. The house or the mantle Belisaire was so damned determined
to pass on to her. But she took the house, mostly so she could escape.” His short
laugh was harsh and totally void of humor. “Not that she could.