Dane - A MacKenzie Novel (14 page)

“You know, your people skills need work,” she
said. “You haven’t been able to keep your mouth shut for the last
week, barging into my house and trying to piss me off by
disagreeing with me on every stance I have just to be contrary, and
now all of a sudden you can’t find anything to talk about. What are
you hiding from me, Cade?”

Cade smiled at her, the flash of his white
teeth disconcerting in the darkness, and he threw back the whiskey
like it was water.

“Why do I need to talk when you do it enough
for both of us?”

“If I was a normal woman, I’d probably be
offended by that, but I have brothers. And I promise I’ve heard all
the insults before. I also know when a man is being stupid and
trying to stall the conversation. You might as well tell me what’s
going on. I can be persistent.”

She heard his sigh and went to the wall to
turn the light on, tired of being confined to the darkness.

“No, leave it off for now,” Cade said.

“I’m not going to have this conversation with
you in the dark.”

“Then I’ll light a candle.”

He rummaged through another kitchen drawer
until he came out with matches, and he lit the fat white candle
that sat in the middle of his kitchen table.

“Are you okay?” she asked, the feeling that
something was off tingling in the back of her mind.

“Never been better. Though I wouldn’t mind a
replay of earlier.”

“Not until you start talking.”

She watched Cade warily as he grabbed another
glass from the cabinet and set it on the table, a challenging quirk
fixed on his mouth. She took a seat and accepted the whiskey he
pushed in front of her. And then he sat across from her, his
features harsh in the candlelight, and she gasped. His face was
slicked with sweat and there was pain in his eyes as he met her
gaze. He knocked back the second glass and seemed to deflate
against the chair.

“What happened, Cade? Are you hurt?”

She was up and around to his side in an
instant, her fingers brushing the hair back that had fallen onto
his brow. She held two fingers to the rapid pulse beating in his
throat and then worked her way down until her fingers touched the
sticky substance on his arm.

He hissed out a breath at her touch and
poured more whiskey into the glass. “Don’t touch it.”

“You need a doctor.”

“No, doctor. Not this time. We’re safe here
for the night, but I don’t want anyone to know I’ve been hurt.
They’ll take advantage of the weakness.”

“Who will? What’s going on, Cade?”

He sighed and rested his head against her
chest, letting his guard down for the first time she’d seen. It
made him almost human. As if he wasn’t quite as hard as he wanted
everyone to believe.

“I’m sorry, Bayleigh,” he said, looking up at
her, his eyes fathomless pools of black. “I’ll be honest with you.
You’re in danger because of me. Because I couldn’t keep my eyes and
my hands off you.”

“It wasn’t just one sided, Cade. I couldn’t
keep my hands off you either. Now tell me what’s going on.”

“I was involved in an undercover operation a
few years ago,” he said softly. “I went into Miguel del Fuego’s
drug cartel with the purpose of taking them out of existence—from
finding where the hidden compounds were, to the scientists, to the
buyers in the US. I was one of the worst people in existence for
three years because I had to prove that I was who I said I was. And
believe me, I was very convincing.”

Bayleigh could see the torture swirling in
his eyes, the guilt over the things he’d had to do, and the sight
broke her heart. No wonder he seemed so cold and distant. She’d be
doing everything she could to close herself off from the past.

“It’s okay, Cade. You don’t have to tell me
anything you’re uncomfortable with,” she said, regretting she’d
practically forced him to tell her. “Let’s go into the bathroom.
I’ll see what I can do for your arm.”

She grabbed the bottle of whiskey and
followed him into the small hall bath. It didn’t go past her notice
that he had them inside and the door closed before he flipped on
the light. This bathroom was under the stairs, so there wasn’t a
window. He stripped off his shirt, and she winced as the gash came
into view.

“I hate to say this, but you’re going to have
to see a doctor. You need stitches.”

“Get it cleaned up and let me decide from
there,” he said stubbornly.

“Would it kill you to say please?”

He leaned against the vanity, his legs spread
slightly apart, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her
closer until she stood between his thighs. Her heart thudded in her
chest, and just that quick she could feel herself dampening for
him—with one touch.

“Please,” he whispered against her lips, his
tongue tracing the full bottom curve lightly before his mouth
pressed against hers.

It was the first time he’d kissed her so
gently, where the heat had a chance to begin as a small flame and
grow into something more, rather than the immediate explosion she’d
grown used to. She pushed away, hers eyes wide and her legs
shaking.

“You didn’t ask to use my shirt,” he said.
“It seems like your manners are as bad as mine.”

“I’ll make sure to give it back after I look
at your arm.” Her throat was dry as dust, and if he didn’t stop
circling his finger on the back of her thigh, just where his shirt
ended, she was going to be a whimpering puddle at his feet. “Do you
have a first aid kit?”

“Yeah,” he said, blowing out a long breath,
his arousal obvious behind the stretched fabric of his cargo pants.
He pushed her back gently and bent down to grab the first aid kit
from underneath the sink.

Bayleigh wet a washrag with warm water and
cleaned away the blood. She’d seen her fair share of scrapes and
cuts growing up with Brady and Brant, and she knew when a wound
needed stitches. Stubborn man.

“Here,” he said, shoving the whiskey she’d
sat by the sink into her hand. “I don’t have any antiseptic. This
is as good as any.”

Bayleigh took a quick swig from the bottle,
grimacing as the liquor burned a path all the way down her throat
and into her stomach.

“If you say so. Button up, buttercup.”

She poured the amber liquid over the slice in
his arm and winced right along with him as she imagined the burning
pain he must be feeling.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, blowing on it like
her mom used to do when they got cuts or scrapes. “I can see almost
to the bone, Cade. You’ve got to get stitches.”

“You sew, right?” he said, taking the bottle
from her hand and slugging it back. “Just pretend I’m a piece of
sexy, delicate silk.”

Bayleigh took a step back and stared at him
in shock, the horror of what he was asking starting to penetrate.
“Umm, I don’t think—”

“We don’t have a choice. I can’t go to the
hospital. The cartel that I was working undercover in has found me.
The DEA didn’t destroy it as fully as we’d hoped. Miguel’s son has
taken over the reins and he’s here, and he’s been in contact with
me. He knows I’m interested in you, and you’re in danger because of
it. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure that I pay for what
happened. You need to understand the severity of the situation.
This is life or death, Bayleigh.”

“It seems a bit extreme to make me a target.
We barely know each other.”

Cade grasped her by the chin and made her
meet his eyes. “He knows me well, Bayleigh. He knows I wouldn’t
normally pursue a woman like you unless—”

“Unless what?”

“I’ve got thread and a needle tucked into a
pocket there,” he said, changing the subject. “I need to get
bandaged up and get a couple of hours sleep before the sun
rises.”

He grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen from the
first aid kit and swallowed three of them, while Bayleigh took the
needle and thread and swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in
her throat. Her hands shook and little black dots starting flashing
in front of her eyes.

“Take another drink and relax,” he said. “Try
not to think of it as flesh. Make your mind see it as something
you’re comfortable with.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Not really. Did you notice the scar on my
thigh?”

Bayleigh felt the heat rush to her cheeks and
she busied herself by threading the needle. She’d noticed
everything about his body. He laughed softly and she felt her face
flame hotter.

“I didn’t have anyone to sew that one
together. That was a little reminder left by Miguel. His way of
making sure I was as tough as he’d heard I was. I had to stitch
myself together with my left hand. It didn’t turn out pretty.”

She took a deep breath and poured the whiskey
over the needle before piercing his flesh. He didn’t even wince as
she began to make tiny stitches along the gaping wound.

“I thought you were left-handed,” she said
absently, focusing on the task at hand. “Why would that be a big
deal?”

“No,” he said, his voice strained even though
he wasn’t moving a muscle as she worked. “I got shot in the hand a
few years ago, and I had damage to some of the tendons. I couldn’t
use it at all for a while, and I had to sit behind a desk until I
could show I was proficient using my weapon with my left hand. It’s
part of the reason I was given the opportunity to go undercover in
del Fuego’s organization. I wasn’t of any use as a field agent, and
they needed someone unattached to infiltrate.”

“I’ve got to tell you, I’m not a fan of the
fact of how often you seem to get shot or stabbed. Maybe you need a
new line of work.”

“Yeah,” he said, his sigh soft against her
skin. “I’ve been thinking that a lot lately. But I can’t do
anything until the del Fuego cartel is in ashes.”

“There,” Bayleigh said, taking a step back,
her stomach feeling queasy now that she was done.

Cade dug around in the First Aid Kit until he
came up with some Neosporin, and he spread it liberally over her
neat stitches. “Here, wrap me up. Not too tight,” he said, handing
her a roll of gauze.

Bayleigh wrapped the wound, and tried to
process everything Cade had told her. She’d spent her entire life
trying to escape the thought of the dangers her father and brothers
faced on a daily basis. And here she was, thrown into a situation
she had no control over and falling in love with a man who made her
brothers seem like docile pets.

“I think I need to go home,” she finally said
after an awkward length of silence. “I’ve got to work tomorrow, and
I haven’t exactly had a restful night.”

She handed him the supplies and turned to
open the door, but his hand pushed against it before she could get
it open. His body shifted, and she felt the presence of him looming
over her back before his lips feathered across her ear. Shivers
skittered over her skin before she could control her reaction.

“If you think I’m letting you go now,” he
whispered, “After I’ve felt how you hold my cock like a glove, then
you’re in for a hell of a surprise.”

Chapter Ten

“Cade, don’t make this harder than it already
is. I’m not built for this. You could make me fall in love with
you.”

He stiffened behind her, rejecting the words,
even as they brought him satisfaction. He wanted her love. He just
didn’t know if he could return it. After Carmen, he wasn’t sure he
was capable of ever loving anyone again, and he hadn’t even wanted
to try because of the danger in his life. Not that his caution had
helped him any this time. Bayleigh had drawn him in and he was
facing a situation that could end up similar to when Carmen was
killed. Only this time, he didn’t think he’d be able to survive it.
Bayleigh had wrapped herself around his heart that quickly.

Love wasn’t something he could deal with just
yet. He only knew he wanted Bayleigh to belong to him. And that it
was his duty to keep her safe. Nothing else mattered right now.

His hand skimmed up the silky length of her
inner thigh, rubbing in slow circles, teasing at the sensitive
flesh he knew was already wet and creamy for him. Her breath
hitched as he nibbled at the spot just between her neck and
shoulder, and he used his other hand to quickly undo the buttons of
the shirt she’d borrowed from him.

She shuddered beneath his fingers and her
head leaned against the bathroom door in defeat. She couldn’t deny
him, just as he’d never be able to deny her. He turned her around
so she faced him and took her mouth quickly—the kiss hot and deep
and wet. They were both panting for breath by the time they broke
apart, and Cade took a step back before he lost control completely.
He’d never lost control with a woman. Never let her take him to the
point where rational thought disappeared and all that was left was
the animal nature writhing inside of him, trying to break free and
claim what was his.

The sight of her pressed back against the
door almost had him coming in his pants. Her golden hair was
tousled sexily around her face and her lips were swollen and red
from his kisses. The dress shirt she wore gaped open, but it was
caught just at the edge of her nipples on each side, tempting him
with glimpses every time she inhaled. His gaze traveled down to the
bare flesh between her thighs, dewy with desire.

He sank to his knees in front of her, his
tongue seeking the sweet honey that coated her pussy, and he
reveled in her cries as he sucked at her clitoris and speared
inside of her with his tongue. Her hands tangled in his hair and
her legs widened so she was able to thrust against his face. He
pulled back some, alternating between gentle caresses and hard
thrusts, keeping her just on the edge of fulfillment.

“Please, Cade. Stop teasing.”

“But it’s so much fun,” he said, skimming his
fingers along the delicate folds before sinking one long digit
inside of her.