Nauti Dreams (24 page)

him yes more than anything. But if she gave in to him now, then she may as well turn the

entire investigation over to him because she would completely lose control.

“And do you think I don’t know when I have gunsights leveled on me, Natches? Do I

really look that fucking green? That I’m not aware of when I’m pushing too many

damned buttons?”

“International fucking terrorists are not damned pissed-off rednecks,” he almost yelled.

“No rules here, Chay. No warning. No instinct, unless you’re one of them.”

She held on to her own temper by a fingernail.

“My strength in these interviews is the fact that you aren’t with me, and though you’ve

been shadowing me, you’re far enough away that most people are more amused than

concerned. You’ll hamper my ability to get the answers I need, Natches, and that will

only hinder the investigation.”

“And you think people aren’t going to know you’re living with me?” He crossed his arms

over his chest and glowered back at her.

“Where I sleep isn’t as big an issue as you sitting there terrifying everyone I question or

having you chauffeur me from place to place. If we change the process at this point, we

hamper it.”

“And what the bloody hell does that have to do with me returning to the hotel with you

this morning?” His voice rose slightly, just enough to assure her that his patience was

reaching its limit.

“Because I need a few minutes to think if you don’t fucking mind,” she yelled back at

him. “Excuse me, Natches, but you have my brain in so many damned pieces it resembles

a puzzle right now.”

“He does have that habit.” Dawg stepped in as he slid the sliding glass door open and

stared at Chaya, who fought to pull her anger back and adopt the cool, unaffected

appearance she gave everyone but Natches.

And evidently, she was failing, because he was staring at her as though he didn’t know

her. His eyes narrowed, his celadon green eyes, so light they were almost colorless,

watching her curiously.

“What the hell do you want?” Natches growled at his cousin. “You know, Dawg, this

nosy attitude of yours is really starting to piss me off.”

“When hasn’t it?” Dawg finally shrugged. “I just thought I should let you know that I

have a call coming in about a half hour on that project we were working on. I need you

there.”

Natches glared at his cousin. The project was this damned assignmentChaya was on, and

it was obvious Dawg was hesitant about including her in on it.

“Yeah, I’m sure he has information now regarding your little project,” she snorted

knowingly as she stomped across the room and pushed her laptop back into the case

before collecting the keys to her sedan, which the sheriff had had delivered to the marina

the evening before.

As if she didn’t know what the hell they were talking about. She wasn’t a moron, and she

didn’t enjoy being treated like one.

From the look on Natches’s face, he was still intent on following her though.

“Don’t turn this into a battle, Natches,” she told him fiercely. “Not yet. Not now. Being

your lover is a far cry from being your lapdog. I don’t heel worth crap, and you should

know that right up front.”

“Like I didn’t figure that shit out in Iraq.” Throttled male irritation spiked his voice and

almost had her grinning.

Dawg didn’t bother to hide his smile.

“Damn, son,” he drawled at Natches. “I think you’re losing this battle. Do you need any

pointers? Advice?”

“So says the man who blackmailed his lover.” Chaya rolled her eyes. “Really, Dawg, I

don’t think Natches needs any advice from you. It could end up getting him arrested.”

Dawg scowled as he turned to Natches. “Not like you to tell tales, cousin.”

“He didn’t tell the tale. I believe it’s become something of a local legend. I’ve heard

about it from several sources, Dawg. Small-town secrets and all that.” She smiled grimly.

“Go home, Dawg.” Natches hadn’t taken his eyes off her nor had his face lost the edge of

irritation burning into anger.

Dawg grinned. “But this is more fun. Crista’s sick again this morning. That virus is

kicking her ass for some reason, and she ran me off.”

“Then go to work.” Natches and Chaya snapped the order back at him simultaneously,

causing him to chuckle.

“Sorry, kids, but this project is kind of important right now and I’ve been working long

and hard on it.” He turned to Natches. “You know where I’m at when you two get this

ironed out. Try not to take all day though, because Crista’s getting put out over my

absence from the store. Like she can’t run it better than I do anyway—when she isn’t

sick.” He shook his shaggy head as he turned to the door, slid it back open and stepped

outside.

When it snapped closed again, Chaya pushed her fingers through her hair and stared back

at Natches, aware that if she gave in to him now then she may as well turn every ounce of

independence she possessed over to him.

It wasn’t that he was controlling, there was a difference between protective and

controlling, she was finding. Her first husband, Craig, had been controlling. Natches was

protective.

“I’ll follow you back to the hotel.” He grimaced, adding, “Then head back here. I’ll meet

up with you at the diner.”

“No, Natches. I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“What’s wrong with having a damned partner? Hell, Chaya, I’m not asking for anything

you can’t give me here.”

She had never had a partner though. She had worked independently within a team, but

she had never had a partner.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and breathed out roughly. “You can

follow me back to the hotel if you need to, but not to the room. I need to take care of

checking out, and I have an early meeting scheduled in one of the other rooms with the

other agents working the case. I’ll be lucky to make it to the diner on time this morning.”

She rubbed at her neck as she stared back at him, watching his expression settle a bit,

though not by much. He still wasn’t comfortable with this.

“I’m not used to a partner either, Natches. I’m used to working alone—you know that.

But I’m trying. I really am.”

And she was, but she needed this morning to get a grip on herself and what was changing

in her life. He was changing things inside her that she had never imagined she would

allow.

“You’re too damned independent sometimes, Chaya.” He stalked across the room and

pulled her into his arms. One broad hand cupped the back of her head, his head lowered,

and his lips covered hers.

Instantly, heat rose within her. Her breath caught and the passion that raged through her

with each touch began to burn across her system.

“That’s why.” He pulled back, his gaze so intent, so filled with emotion that she felt her

chest clench at the sight of it. “Because I’ve never known what you make me feel, Chay.

And losing it would destroy me.”

Those words haunted her that morning. She parked at the hotel, feeling his eyes on her as

she entered and got the paperwork started for her checkout.

She moved from there straight to the meeting in one of the other agents’ rooms, thanking

God there were donuts and coffee because she had refused the breakfast Natches had

offered her. Her nerves had been strung too tight, her senses too off balance to eat that

early.

As the meeting wound up and she saved her notes to her laptop, she was looking forward

to finally getting to her room. She would have an hour, maybe, to shower and get her

thoughts in order before checking for Cranston’s e-mail and making her notes for the

interviews.

That hour didn’t help though. As she stored her luggage in the rented car and stared back

at the hotel, she felt the old fears rising inside her again. The same fears that had kept her from staying the year before. The ones that had kept her chasing danger rather than

making a trip to Somerset long before any missiles had been hijacked.

That fear of loss.

As she slid into the car, she thought about living versus losing, and realized that if she

didn’t manage to lose Natches, then it would be the first time she had managed not to lose

someone she loved.

She had lost her parents in her teens. Not to violence or to death, but to sheer disinterest.

Her socialite mother and career-intensive father had no idea what to do with the little girl

that always needed a hug or a kiss.

Her sister—she had thought she’d managed to maintain that relationship, before she

found out Craig had been sleeping with her. The woman she would have trusted above

anyone, the one she trusted her child with, had been sleeping with her husband.

Not that there had been a relationship between her and Craig for years. After Beth’s birth,

Craig had drifted away, and Chaya had slowly realized she didn’t even miss him. When

she had been called out on that last assignment in Iraq, she had already informed her

superiors that she wouldn’t be remaining after the assignment finished. She was resigning

to stay home with her daughter. Beth was only three, and she needed her mother.

She forced back a muted sob at the thought of her little girl, her laughing eyes, her

rounded, pretty face. Beth had been her life. And within a few short hours after her

rescue, Natches had become her heart.

That betrayal was the one she had fought to forgive herself for. While her daughter was

in danger, Chaya had been flirting with another man. Natches had sat in her hospital

room, teased her with kisses, brought her flowers. He had slipped candy to her and he had

made her laugh. And during that two weeks when she had been unable to contact her

sister, Beth had been in Iraq with Craig.

She had been falling in love, and Beth had been in danger.

She hated herself for it. She had screamed out so many times in the darkness of the night,

sobbing, begging for a forgiveness she couldn’t give herself.

And now what was she doing? She laid her hand against her stomach and tried to fight

the panic building inside her. Was she risking the life of another child?

She shook her head. She couldn’t do this. First thing this evening she was stopping at a

drugstore and picking up the condoms herself. It was her choice, Natches had warned her.

If she wanted them, then she would have to remember them. She would have to

remember them because she didn’t know if she could face the consequences.

But a child. She had always wanted to be a mother. To make a secure, happy home filled

with laughter and love, the very things she had never seemed to find until she had found

Natches. Or he had found her.

And he wanted a child with her. The playboy of Somerset, the wildest, the most wicked

of the Nauti Boys, and he wanted to keep her. He wanted to laugh with her, and he

wanted to raise babies with her.

It was inconceivable.

Shaking her head, she started the car, then looked up in surprise as the sheriff’s cruiser,

followed by Natches’s jeep, blocked her in.

Frowning, she opened the door and started out of the car.

“Get your case.” Natches jumped from the jeep and in two short strides was pulling her

away from the car before reaching in and grabbing her briefcase. The door slammed

behind her as Sheriff Mayes went to the ground, rolled onto his back and wedged himself

beneath it.

“Move.” Natches was dragging her away from the sedan.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jerking her arm out of his grip she looked from him to

where Sheriff Mayes’s long legs stuck out beneath her vehicle.

Her gaze jerked up once again as three other vehicles pulled in. Dawg, Rowdy, and Ray

Mackay jumped from their pickups and moved quickly to the car.

“Have you checked under the hood yet, Zeke?” Dawg called out.

“Get your asses out of here. I have an explosives squad on the way. Don’t you touch that

car.”

Male voices were filling the area as hotel employees and a few guests began to move

from the building.

The sheriff rolled out and jumped to his feet. “It’s here,” he snarled. “Get the hell away

from the car. Now!”

Chaya started in shock as Natches all but lifted her off her feet and pushed her into the

jeep, forcing her to crawl over the console as he moved in behind her. With a jerk and a

squeal of tires, the jeep raced a safe distance from the car, then with a hard twist of his

wrist, Natches turned it in a quick half spin to face the vehicle as Chaya stared at him in

complete disbelief.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Natches turned to her, dangerous. Here was danger. Forest green eyes were the color of

moss, savage planes and angles marked his expression, and rage flickered in his gaze.

“You lost an agent this morning,” he bit out, his voice dangerously soft.

Chaya stared back at him in mute shock.

“What are you talking about? They were all at the meeting just an hour ago. I left them

there.”

“Kyle Denton made it about three miles out of town before his car exploded. It took out a

nice chunk of the interstate and the back end of the eighteen-wheeler he was driving

behind. There’s nothing left of him but fucking pieces. The minute Mayes learned it was

Denton, he called me and we rushed here. Now tell me Chaya, who the fuck is Cranston

after here?”