Dangerous Secrets: Callaghan Brothers, Book 1 (13 page)

She hadn’t heard him enter; the expression on her face was one he’d never seen before – wistful yet content.  The image was burned into his brain forever.  He stood in silence, hardly daring to breathe for fear of shattering the moment.  Part of him wanted to stare at her like this forever.  Another part ached to close the distance between them and fuse her body to his; to wrap his arms around her and ensure that tears never adorned those beautiful eyes again.

Jake knew then that he was hopelessly, desperately in love with her.

A loud roar from the living room erupted behind him as his brothers cheered a touchdown.  Taryn turned to find him watching her.  Startled, she dropped the half-eaten apple, rising from the sill in a hurry.  A flush rose in her cheeks as she bent to pick it up. 

He was at a loss for words as she cast wary glances his way.  What exactly could he say that might soften the stormy look in her eyes when they landed on him?  
I’m sorry
?
  It wasn’t you, it was me
?
  I’ll never have the strength to leave you again
?  All true, perhaps, but unacceptable.  He rejected each one as they came to him.

While he considered his options, his gaze was drawn to the red towel she’d wrapped around her hand.  Correction – the white towel that was soaked with blood. 
Shit
. 

“How’s the hand?” he asked, forcing a calm into his voice he didn’t feel. 

“Fine.”  Taryn pushed her hand behind her.  She reminded him of a child hiding a stolen cookie behind her back.  He took a step forward.  She immediately took a step back.

“Mind if I take a look?”  Another step forward.

“Nothing to see,” she countered unconvincingly, and took another step back.  She was at the wall, with nowhere else to go.  Jake looked her up and down, his worry preventing him from grinning at the adorable sight of Ian’s shirt falling down past her knees.  He made a mental note to replace it with one of his as soon as possible. 

“Ian thinks Michael should take a look at it.”  Closer.  He was almost near enough to touch her.  One lunge forward was all it would take, but somehow, he held himself in check.  She wasn’t going anywhere.

Taryn lifted her chin defiantly.  “Ian’s not here.”  She took a step to the left, toward the bathroom.

“Yes, he is.”  Taryn’s eyes widened as Ian appeared on the other side of the room.  Fixated as she was on Jake, Taryn hadn’t seen him enter.  Jake moved left, as if to intercept her.  Taryn looked nervously from one of them to the other, then to the bathroom, clearly trying to gauge whether or not she could make a run for it.  Jake took one long stride and placed his big body in front of her, quashing that notion.

He held his hand out expectantly.  Taryn looked at it as if it held wriggling snakes and took a step back - right into Ian, who had moved silently into place behind her.  She didn’t stand a chance; the two of them had perfected this maneuver years ago.  It was as useful for neutralizing an enemy as it was for taking willing women to new heights of pleasure.

Eyes flashing with triumph, Jake reached out and wrapped his fingers around her delicate wrist.  She resisted, but it didn’t do any good.  His hand was like an iron shackle; his grip, unbreakable.

“Son of a bitch,” Jake swore as he removed the towel and saw the red, puffy wound.  “Tell Mick to get his ass in here,” he barked at Ian.

“I don’t need a doctor,” Taryn argued, making another futile attempt to reclaim her hand.

“I beg to differ.”  Jake’s voice was calm, rational, but his heart was hammering in his chest.  The cut was deeper than he had originally thought.  He had seen worse injuries, but on grown men, not on
her
.  How could he explain that to her?  How could he tell her that seeing her hurt made him ten ways to crazy?

“You can beg all you want,” she growled back at him.  “But it won’t change anything.”  Jake had a feeling she was talking about more than her hand.

“You got hurt in my bar, working for me,” he said sternly, “so you are my responsibility.”  That made sense.  Kind of.  He hoped.

She stiffened. “I am no man’s responsibility,” she hissed, the familiar fire lighting in her eyes.  Judging by her sudden, vehement reaction, he had hit a sore spot.   He seemed to excel at that, especially where she was concerned.

“Humor me,” he said.  “Do you want to sit down?  Or would you prefer that I put you over my knee?”

If looks could kill he would have already been reduced to a lifeless pile of smoldering ash on the floor at her feet, but there was no way he was letting her go.  Even this semi-forced contact was better than not touching her at all, and his body was screaming for anything it could get.  She let out a string of curses that raised his eyebrows. 

“I can’t believe you kissed me with that mouth,” he said, earning another earful.  Despite the gravity of the situation, he had to hold back his laughter.  A riled Taryn was an unexpected delight indeed.  He would definitely need to remember that once he managed to wheedle himself back into her good graces.  “Knee it is then.” 

He made a move to lift her, but she instantly clamped her mouth shut and allowed him to lead her to a chair.  He sat down first, then pulled her onto his lap, biting back a groan as her behind snuggled atop his monster hard-on.  It was neither the time nor the place, but his cock didn’t seem to care.

“Stop wiggling and sit still,” he commanded under his breath as Ian brought Michael into the room, his voice harsher than it had been only a moment ago.  For pure spite, he was sure, Taryn shifted this way and that, flexing her behind in tiny but effective movements that nearly had blood spilling from his lip where he bit down on it.  The arm he had wrapped around her tiny waist tightened in warning.

“Hi, Taryn.  I’m Michael.  We met last night.”  He gave her an easy smile.  “You cut your hand on some broken glass, right?”   

Michael spoke in what Jake had termed his “doctor’s voice” – quiet and soothing and well-suited to putting anxious patients at ease.  Even his body language and the way he moved was meant to instill a sense of trust and confidence.  Too bad it didn’t seem to work on Taryn.

“I did, but I took care of it.  I don’t need a doctor.”

Jake snorted in disagreement.  “Show him your hand.” 

She wiggled her butt again, and Jake made a mental note to spank her later.  For now, he used his grip on her wrist to extend her hand toward Michael.

Michael kneeled in front of Taryn to get a better look.

“It’s nothing,” Taryn insisted, but Michael whistled softly.  “This is pretty deep,” he said, taking her hand gently in his and examining it.  “Can you wiggle your fingers?”

Intent on her as they were, they didn’t miss the way her brow creased with the effort, and even then, there was only slight movement in her index and middle digits. 

“You need to go to the ER right now,” Michael said definitively.  “And you might not lose function in that hand permanently.”

“No!” Taryn pulled back her hand. 

“Taryn,” warned Jake.

“No hospitals, Jake,” she said, shaking her head.  “Period.  Non-negotiable.  Hard limit. Whatever.  Not fucking happening.” 

Michael exchanged a glance with Jake, raising an eyebrow at her vehement refusal, but said nothing.   

“Isn’t there anything you can do, Mick?” Ian asked.  Unlike Jake, he had a clear view of Taryn’s face.  Features set, eyes blazing with absolute conviction - there was no way they were going to get her anywhere near a hospital.  Not while she was conscious, anyway.

Michael took a deep breath.  “She really should have a neurosurgeon to look at this.”

“No doctors,” Taryn said emphatically, her voice as steely as Jake’s had been. 

Michael was about to say something else, but Jake spoke first.  “Ian, stay with Taryn for a moment.  I need a word with Mick.”  Taryn mumbled something about not needing a keeper, but one quelling look from Jake warned her that he was not kidding around.   

“What the hell’s going on, Jake?” Michael spoke in low enough tones that only Jake could hear him.  “Is she a package?” 

Michael, like Jake, Ian, and the rest of them, was no stranger to the seamier side of life.  He, too, was a member of their specialized elite ops team, a family business kept totally off the radar.  “Package” was the term they used for individuals placed under protection, those targeted because of who they were or what they knew.  It wouldn’t be the first time Jake had pulled that kind of assignment, but it would be the first time he’d brought one home with him. 

Jake looked back to where Ian sat beside Taryn, talking to her quietly.  She was listening to whatever he was saying, though her eyes flicked over and met Jake’s.  In that one brief moment, he thought he saw real fear in her eyes, but she turned away before he could be certain of it.  If Taryn was scared enough to bolt, it could alter things.  He hadn’t wanted to bring the family in on this one, not yet, but he didn’t see a way around it at this point. 

“Not officially,” Jake admitted.  “But she is running, and I want to know why.”  Jake gave Michael a very brief synopsis of what he and Ian had discovered thus far.  Michael looked uncertain.

“Just because she is a female doesn’t mean she’s innocent,” Michael cautioned.  “There might be a very good reason someone is looking for her.”

Jake shook his head.  “Not this one, Mick.”  The conviction in his voice was unmistakable.  “She might be in trouble, but she is a victim.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“No question.  Ian feels it too.”  As if sensing his name, Ian caught Michael’s eye over Taryn’s head and gave the briefest of nods. 

Michael nodded soberly.  “Okay, here’s the deal.  The cut’s deep.  Deep enough that I think it severed some nerves that may or may not regenerate in time.  There are signs of infection setting in, too.”

He had been afraid of that.  She’d felt warm to him, but he was hoping he was just overreacting.  He looked at Michael hopefully.

“I can clean it out, but I’ll have to numb it first because it’ll hurt like a bitch.”  Jake winced, but nodded.  “And I can shoot her up with some industrial-strength antibiotics, but they’ll probably knock her on her ass.  She’ll need a babysitter.”  Jake nodded again.  He had no intention of letting her out of his sight – or Ian’s. 

“I really appreciate this, Mick.”

“What do you want me to tell the others?  They like her.  They are going to be majorly pissed off if you don’t let them in on this.  Not to mention they’re going stir crazy with nothing to keep them occupied at the moment.”

The situation was becoming more complicated by the minute, but Jake had to admit, bringing in the family had its benefits.  Between them, their resources were nearly limitless, not to mention that no one would ever get within a mile of Taryn. 

The only snag was Taryn herself.  She had no idea who or what any of them were, nor that they suspected she was anything other than what she said she was.  He had a feeling if she did, she’d bolt in a heartbeat.  He said as much to Michael.

“Understood.”  Michael paused.  “Just one more thing.  I have to ask.  How personal is this?”

“As personal as it gets,” Jake answered without hesitation.

Michael raised his eyebrows, flicking another sideways glance at Taryn and Ian before meeting Jake’s eyes again.

“It’s complicated,” Jake said.  Hell, he didn’t understand it himself.  He was going strictly on his gut here.

“I bet,” murmured Michael.  “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue,” Jake admitted truthfully. 

T
aryn automatically scooched closer to Ian when Jake returned.  Ian put his arm around her protectively.

“Michael’s going to fix you up, Taryn,” Jake said as Michael went for his bag. 

She looked at him skeptically.  “No hospital?”

“No hospital.  But you must do as he says, or I will personally hitch you over my shoulder and carry you to the ER myself, understand?” 

Her eyes flashed and she lifted her chin defiantly.  “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t test him on this one,” Ian warned.  Taryn drew her lips tightly together, but refrained from making any additional comments.

“What’s that?” Taryn asked nervously, her eyes as wide as saucers as Michael prepared the first syringe. 

“Something to numb your hand,” he said.

She swallowed hard.  “I – I don’t want that.”

Intense blue eyes, so like Jake’s, regarded her.  “Trust me,” said Michael.  “You want this.”

“N-N-No,” she stammered.  “I think I might be allergic.”

Michael frowned.  “Do you know what exactly you’re allergic to?” 

Taryn shook her head. She could tell he didn’t want to do anything without a numbing agent, and was touched by his compassion.  Then again, he had no idea of the kind of pain she’d suffered through.  She could handle this. 

“It’s okay, though,” she told him.  “Just do what you have to do.”

He looked skeptical, but nodded.  She appreciated that he didn’t question her judgment.  Had it been Jake he would have argued with her.  “I’ll be as gentle as I can.  What about antibiotics?” he asked.  “Are you allergic to those, too?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“Alright then.  Let’s start with that.” He pulled out another syringe, filling it from a small glass vial.  He looked at her apologetically.  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to bend over for this one.”

Her eyes widened again momentarily, then she got a resigned look on her face.  She turned away from him, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink, and leaned onto the table.  She accommodatingly lifted the tail of Ian’s shirt and pulled down one side of the white silky panties, exhaling heavily.  Despite the situation, she had to bite back a smile at the sound of Jake’s growl behind her.  Then she remembered that he had no right to be jealous and thrust her hip out farther.

Michael’s hand was warm as it touched her skin.  He gently ran it along her behind, up and over her hip, giving her a gentle squeeze.  “All done,” he said quietly, replacing her panties.  She turned around, surprised.  She’d been so focused on the feel of his hand she hadn’t even felt the shot.