Nauti Temptress (19 page)

Brogan found it strange that Doogan knew about it to begin with. And he’d had to have said something to Jed or Eli about it first for either of them to have discussed it with him.

Brogan turned to the other two men. “Is that everything Doogan needed to tell me?”

Eli grinned as the director shot a silencing look at him and then at Jed. Brogan knew that if there was more, one of them would call or text the moment they had the chance.

“Anything else I need to know before you leave?”

“Don’t tell her what you’re doing here, Brogan,” Doogan warned him again. “She’ll tell her brother, her brother will tell his cousins, and then I’ll have to start arresting Mackays.”

“I’ll consider your argument. . . .”

“No, damn you, you won’t consider shit,” Doogan burst out furiously as he stepped closer. “I’m giving you a direct order, you little son of a bitch. If you want to keep your job, you’ll obey it.”

Brogan’s eyes narrowed, though he was very damn careful to hold back the suspicion he could feel churning in his gut.

“Feel that strongly about it, do you?” he asked softly.

“I feel that strongly about your deliberate, constant insubordination,” Doogan snapped. “Get a handle on it before I take care of it myself.”

Stepping onto the bow of the fishing boat, Doogan stepped back into the boat and took his seat as he shot Brogan a deliberately superior look.

“Move out, Agent Grant,” he ordered Eli.

Eli did as ordered as Jed rolled his eyes and gave Brogan a quick, short shake of his head.

This was why he preferred working with Jed and Eli instead of the two agents over those in the regional office. He could trust them to cover his back, both in and out of the field. His gut was already telling him Doogan’s reaction was way off base.

He’d come out there specifically to piss Brogan off. All he’d done was make him highly suspicious. The other man was a manipulator. And he was trying to ensure that Brogan did as he wanted him to do, not as he was telling him to do.

Doogan wanted the Mackays in on this operation, and he’d wanted them there from the beginning.

From the first day Brogan had set foot in Pulaski County, Doogan had been pushing him toward Eve.

Walking back to the house as the last of dawn began to slip away, he knew Doogan was only pushing him, or Eve, into informing her brother of Brogan’s mission. And Brogan couldn’t figure out why the other man didn’t say so. Brogan had finally put Doogan’s manipulations together. He was salivating to get the Mackays on this operation.

Doogan was a hell of a manipulator, but usually he was only this bad when he had no other choice. And if he wanted the Mackays so badly, why not just ask them himself? Or he could have gone to Timothy. There were few things Timothy enjoyed more than manipulating Mackays; he would have loved to have pulled Dawg and his cousins into the operation himself.

There were few things Doogan loved more than the chance to do his own manipulating, too, though. Once he saw that pulling the Mackays in would actually take some effort, he would have done exactly as he did: rushed straight to Somerset and set his plans in motion. Plans that would get him killed if they managed to harm even the first silken hair on Eve’s head.

* * *

Eve stood in the large bathroom staring through
the window that looked out onto the water and the small beach with its long dock extending out to deeper water.

It was the faint sound of the boat’s trolling motor moving up the waterway that had urged Eve to crawl from the bed and go to the bathroom, where she could see the beach more clearly. And boy, had she gotten an eyeful that she hadn’t expected.

It was easy to recognize the three men Brogan had just been talking to. Jedediah Booker and Elijah Grant, the two building contractors staying at her mother’s inn, along with Chatham Doogan, were meeting with Brogan.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she’d been able to follow their expressions. Brogan had been trying to hide his irritation and suspicion, where both Jedediah and Elijah had looked more amused than anything else.

The one thing that had clearly come across, though, and really pissed her off was the fact that Brogan and Doogan obviously knew each other very, very well.

Liars. She hated them. There was something about deliberate lies and deceit that reminded her far too much of Chandler Mackay.

As Brogan moved toward the house, Eve turned and rushed back to the bed, knowing he would come straight to her. He wouldn’t wait; he wouldn’t find anything else to do.

Crawling back into the huge, obviously custom-made bed, she pulled the sheet to her breasts just as Brogan entered the room. He came to an immediate stop as he saw she was awake and waiting for him.

Instantly wariness seemed to settle around him, though his expression didn’t change. It didn’t flicker in his gaze, and there was no tension in his body. So she had no clue how she knew he was suddenly unsettled by the fact that she was waiting for him.

“You’re awake,” he stated softly, moving toward her as she watched him closely.

“For a while now,” she agreed. “I wondered where you were.”

“I had some business that couldn’t wait.” He grimaced as he rubbed at his jaw. “We’ll discuss it later. Are you ready for breakfast yet, or would you like a hot bath first?”

They would discuss it later?

Eve could feel an impending sense of panic settling in her stomach.

“I’d rather discuss the business first,” she argued.

Brogan shook his head, his lips tilting in that little partial grin she thought was so sexy.

“Breakfast or bath.” Evidently, those were her only choices. “Which do you prefer first? There are some bath salts to ease the soreness in your muscles, imported all the way from China.” Rueful amusement tinged the blue-gray depths of his gaze.

“Bath, I guess.” She shrugged. “Brogan?”

He paused as he moved to turn to the bathroom, staring down at her questioningly instead.

“This business we’re going to discuss,” she asked as her heart began beating hard and sluggishly. “Is it something bad?”

“No, it’s nothing bad.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry, sweetheart; everything will be okay. I promise.”

But he didn’t really believe that. He wanted to, she thought. He might be trying to convince himself it would be, but she could sense his uneasiness, and that was freaking her out just a bit. She shouldn’t be able to sense anything that he wasn’t showing the obvious signs to.

“I’ll start your water.” Turning, he headed back to the bathroom before pausing at the door and glancing back at her. “You have several changes of clothes; wear whatever you like. I thought we’d take a walk after breakfast, but the path is easy enough for sandals or sneakers.”

A walk sounded nice. Or was that when he was going to discuss the business of Chatham, Elijah, and Jedediah’s morning visit?

Checking the bag he had brought, Eve pulled out one of the heavy plastic hair clips she used to pin her hair up. Twisting the long strands to the top of her head, she clipped it in place before moving to the bathroom when he left.

True to his word, he had started her bath. The water was deliciously warm without being too hot. The bath salts gave it a silky, caressing feel as she settled into it, sighing at the luscious sensation of the water easing overused muscles.

The tub itself was large enough for two or three people. There was an open shower larger than her entire bathroom. The vanity and sleek modern overlarge sink sat on one side of the room, a pair of heavy padded chairs beside it. The toilet was in a room by itself, separated from the bathing area with a sliding wooden door that pushed into the wall. Heated ceramic tiles covered the floor, while more tile covered the walls and gave the bathroom an elegant, charming feel. It was luxurious and ultrarich, with enough wasted space to house two more regular-size bathrooms.

The entire house was a rich person’s play den, nothing more. One of those places the megarich kept as a hidden sex spot: wild parties, mistresses, booze, and drugs. Hell, in the other bathroom there had been an eight-ball of cocaine sitting in the medicine cabinet in plain view.

She hadn’t checked this bathroom that well yet.

Finishing her bath with the fragrant soap Brogan had laid out for her, Eve stepped from the tub nearly half an hour later. Drying herself, she brushed her hair until the silky sheen gleamed a blue-black, then dressed quickly.

The white lace panties and matching bra she’d found in the bag comprised one of her nicer sets. Trust Brogan to pick out the best she had.

The short cream-colored chiffon skirt and matching sleeveless top slid over her skin as she dressed, caressing it with cool silkiness.

The top was held up by fragile straps over her shoulders, while the shallow vee cut of the bodice revealed the upper curves of her breasts. The skirt fell just below her thighs, the soft flare of the material making her legs appear much longer and sexier.

She was dressed now and ready to face whatever lies or perhaps explanations Brogan might have.

Nervously she left the bedroom and headed to the main part of the house. There she found Brogan in the large open kitchen sliding pancakes onto a plate with steaming eggs. Beside it sat another plate, while bacon, sausage, and fluffy biscuits filled a platter.

“I thought we’d sit on the breakfast patio.” Grabbing the two plates and silverware, Brogan nodded to the platter. “Grab that. The coffee’s already out there.”

The breakfast patio held a wide table and seating for six. Sitting across from Brogan at one end, she stared at the tall picture windows that surrounded them on three sides.

Eve enjoyed the view outside as they ate in silence. At one point, a doe moved through the trees beyond the glass, and a thought piqued her curiosity.

“What happens if hunters accidently shoot this way?” Hunting season would be coming around in a few months.

“The windows are actually bullet resistant. The glass itself has a special coating that blocks anyone outside from looking in.” He volunteered more information. “All the windows in the house are similarly secured. The basement has a security room with its own backup generator, and that wall”—he indicated the mural painted on the wall leading into the living area—“has a hidden panel to a safe room. There are satellite phones, cell phones, and a landline. The wires to the landline are buried nearly six feet deep and run through metal pipes. The phone and electrical wiring runs through the house in titanium tubing, and it’s almost impossible to open the access panels without the proper key.”

“Wow.” Sipping her coffee, she turned back to him. “All the comforts of home, huh?” She grinned.

“Just about,” he agreed as he bit into a sausage link.

“So, which ultrabillionaire does it belong to?”

“The government.” He finished his coffee before placing the cup on the table. “Are you ready for that walk now?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, staring back at him with a sense of nervous awareness. “Are we taking a walk to avoid the questions I’m going to ask?”

“To answer your questions, Eve,” he promised her softly. “Whatever you want to ask. As soon as I tell you a few things, then you can ask all the questions you like.”

Rising from the table, he held his hand out to her, his expression closed and guarded. “Walk with me, baby.”

Placing her hand in his, Eve let him draw her to her feet and lead her through the open kitchen and living area to the wide patio she’d sat on the night before. Opening the glass patio doors, Brogan stood aside, allowing her to step into the cool mountain air before he closed the doors behind them. Eve couldn’t help but feel she should have stayed where she was.

She should have waited.

She should have begged him to make love to her one more time before she learned something that could destroy every possibility of her staying with him.

She should have never gotten out of the bed at the sound of the boat motor and taken a chance on seeing the men who had arrived. If she hadn’t, she would have never known he was hiding anything. And that, she thought, was her biggest mistake.

Getting out of the bed.

If she had just stayed, then when he returned to the bedroom she would have done as she had been fantasizing. She would have tempted him to lie down with her again, perhaps convinced him to allow her the exploration of his body before he took her again.

But no, Eve had to be nosy.

She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the consequences of that nosiness now.

THIRTEEN

Stepping from the cool interior of the luxurious
house to the heated summer warmth of the sun was a comforting feeling. This was the part of Kentucky that Eve loved so much: the heat overhead, the cool, sheltered shadows of the surrounding trees, and the lush vibrancy of the mountains.

“It’s so pretty here,” she said as he led her along a decorative gravel path that wound through the trees. “And peaceful.”

He settled his palm against the small of her back as they followed the path, and Eve swore she could feel a sense of hesitancy filling him.

“It’s not very peaceful when the parties get started up here.” He sighed. “Sometimes it’s been a veritable den of iniquity for days at a time.”

He was giving her the perfect opportunity to delve into the questions she’d claimed to want to ask.

“You can’t tell it’s been anything but this peaceful,” she commented as they continued along the path. “I remember when we first came to Somerset. Timothy flew us in and pretty much surprised Dawg with our existence. But I remember the drive to the house Timothy was living in at the time. The mountains were so beautiful and so green. After spending most of our lives in northern Texas, it was like an alien world.”

She was aware of him glancing down at her thoughtfully. She rarely talked about their arrival in Kentucky. The years in Texas hadn’t always been pleasant, and remembering them was something she rarely enjoyed.

“How did Dawg react to meeting four sisters and their mother? Hell, Mercedes is younger than he is, isn’t she?” he questioned her curiously.

Eve nodded as she pushed her hands into the hidden pockets at the side of the skirt. “He’s older by several years. The day we arrived at the marina, Momma was sick. Timothy was trying to explain to Dawg who we were when Zoey rushed in accusing him of not wanting us.” She grinned at the memory. “The rest of us were in the truck with Momma, but I remember seeing his face when he came out to where we were. He looked completely stricken.”

“Good God.” Brogan gave a surprised laugh. “There’s no way in hell he could deny he’s related to Zoey. Look at her and you’re looking at the image of his daughter in a few more years.”

“They’re the image of each other now.” Eve laughed lightly. “Christa thinks it’s a hoot when people mistake Zoey for Laken’s mother.”

“And how did Dawg react to Zoey?” he asked her, his tone husky with amusement.

“Zoey swears he looked like he was going to cry. She says his hands were shaking. But as soon as she mentioned Momma was sick again, Timothy rushed outside to the truck where we were waiting. After that, it was like Dawg had always been there watching over us.”

She glanced up at Brogan, seeing the understanding in his eyes. “He made sure Momma got the tests and medication she needed. He moved us in with him and Christa while Momma was in the hospital. When he learned Momma had always wanted her own bed-and-breakfast inn, he had one waiting for her when she came out of the hospital. He’d completely remodeled it and had everything perfect for her. He told her he didn’t have just four sisters; he had five. And he had to take care of her, too.”

Rounding a bend in the path, Eve came to a surprised stop, delight racing through her at the sight of the small trickling stream flowing past a nearly hidden grotto.

Beneath the canopy of wisteria and honeysuckle was a wide padded bench almost half the size of a bed.

“Can we go in?” she asked, the urge to stretch out on the padded bench nearly overwhelming.

“Of course.” Catching her hand, he held it with his own as he led her beneath the wide opening.

Releasing her to explore, Brogan leaned against the heavy support post as she sat on the padded stone bench before stretching out on it and staring up at the fragrant, colorful clusters of flowers hanging above her from amid the leafy green.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said wistfully, wishing she could hold back time just a little longer. That she could still the questions raging inside her.

Turning her head, she stared back at him. His gaze met and locked with hers, regret flickering in the blue-gray depths. Did he wish time could be held back as well? That they could have just a few more hours before reality had to be dealt with?

Sitting up slowly and tucking her legs to the side, she took a deep breath.

“Are you going to lie to me?” she asked, somehow knowing she would sense it if he did.

“I won’t lie to you,” he promised. “I may not be able to answer some questions, but I won’t lie.”

Eve looked away. She gazed down at her lap and watched her fingers for long moments as they twisted together. When she lifted her gaze to his once again, it was to see the regret he made no effort to hide now.

“Why did you wait so long?” she finally asked. “And why now?” She had flirted with him since she had first met him the day he arrived in Somerset two and a half years before.

“I waited because I didn’t believe it was fair to drag you into my world,” he explained, his voice heavy as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why now? Because I couldn’t stand it any longer, Eve. I’ve wanted you since that first day, and waiting simply wasn’t any option any longer.”

His answer only made her next question harder. Twisting her fingers together in her lap, she watched his eyes as she asked, “How do you know Chatham Doogan, and why did you show up at the restaurant last night?”

“Fuck, we couldn’t start with the easy questions first, could we?” He grimaced before his eyes narrowed on her. “I’m going to be honest with you, Eve, but I’m telling you now: No one—not your brother, your sisters, or your mother—can know about this. It goes no further, no matter what.”

“It won’t go any further,” she promised. She knew his answers weren’t going to be easy to hear, though.

“Chatham Bromleah Doogan the third.” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “He’s my boss, sort of. He’s the operations director for the regional office of the Federal Protective Service. It’s a division of Homeland Security that deals with the protection and security of federal buildings, employees, assets, and possessions. And if you tell anyone what I’m telling you today, then Doogan is going to jump on it like a dog on a bone and drag your brother and cousins into something I don’t think they want to be a part of.”

Eve stared back at him, expecting him to declare, “April Fools’,” despite the fact that it was already June. If not that, then, “psych,” or, “joke,” or some declaration to indicate that he certainly wasn’t serious. But the longer she stared at him, the more she knew it wasn’t coming. The more sense it made.

“You’re not a traitor then?” she finally asked. “You haven’t been stealing government files left and right or attempting to weaken the pillars of society?”

A bitter smile pulled at his lips. “I don’t know about the pillars of society, but sorry, baby, the thieving is pretty much true. For the past two and a half years I’ve been a thieving son of a bitch.”

Her hands were shaking. As Eve stared at her hands in her lap she realized they were trembling like leaves in a storm.

“Why?” she asked, keeping her gaze on her hands, wondering whether she could will them to be still.

“It’s part of the investigation FPS is conducting to catch the thieves actually stealing government files from independent analysts who were contracted to study them,” he explained.

Okay, so he was pretending to be a thieving son of a bitch, she thought as her gaze lifted to him again. That was the easy part. There was much more than this going on; Chatham’s presence at the boat dock proved that.

“Before you ask this next question be damned sure you want the answer,” he warned her as her lips parted.

“How do you know what I’m going to ask?” Her voice was faint, cautious.

She could feel things she didn’t understand. Feelings and suspicions she wasn’t certain were hers.

“The hell if I know, but I can tell,” he growled in annoyance.

“So tell me.” No. She really didn’t want to know. She needed to know, but she didn’t want to. The truth truly could hurt.

Brogan’s jaw clenched savagely. “You want to know why Doogan asked you to dinner and why I came back and dragged you out of there. That’s what you’re ready to ask.”

She wasn’t exactly ready, but . . .

She stared at him in shock before turning away for long moments. How had he known? The same way she knew he didn’t want to tell her? The way she knew he’d never intended for her to ever have the opportunity to ask even the questions she was asking?

She turned back to him and nodded slowly.

“Doogan asked you to dinner to force me to do exactly what I did,” he revealed. “Donny heard him invite you to dinner, heard the location and your answer. The bastard let me get three hours out of town before he was good enough to tell me. And I came back for you, by God, because you’re mine! And that’s besides the fact that I’ve never fucking cared for Doogan’s poaching tendencies. Coming back for you was a hell of a lot easier than trying to get out of a murder charge.”

Eve could feel her insides shaking now as well. She was trembling from the inside out, shaking with the desperate need to deny what he was telling her.

“That doesn’t make sense, Brogan,” she whispered. “How could I be of any use to Homeland Security or to Chatham?”

“Not so much you as your brother and cousins. Doogan wants the Mackays to solve this for him, without his asking. If he has to ask and they solve it, then he owes them major. They solve it because you’re possibly in danger or your lover endangers you, then it’s just a freebie and he doesn’t owe them a damned thing.”

There had to be more, though. She could feel it, sense he was holding back. But if she didn’t ask the right question, then he wouldn’t tell her. But she knew it wasn’t just a case of pulling her brother and cousins into some conniving bastard’s operation.

Staring back at him, she whispered, “Is everyone in Homeland Security manipulating bastards with nothing better to do than scheme and interfere in innocent people’s lives?”

Brogan shook his head. “Timothy and Doogan are freaks of nature best avoided.”

“So Chatham Doogan asked me out knowing you would return once you found out about it and then make me your lover?” she asked dubiously. “How could he be so certain it would work?”

“Because he’s a freak of nature,” he repeated. “Men like that can calculate the odds and then find ways to turn the situation to their favor. That’s what Doogan is best at.”

“All of this just so Dawg, Rowdy, and Natches would help solve a case for him?”

Brogan nodded.

“How are they supposed to accomplish something you’ve not yet managed?” she bit out, her fingers forming fists as offended anger began to surge through her senses.

Brogan’s lips tilted in a smile, more rueful than mocking. “They know this county and the people in it,” he told her. “Even more, they know which rocks to turn over and the heads to knock together to get the answers they need.”

“And you think they haven’t gotten tired of waiting and are doing it anyway?” she asked in disbelief. “Brogan, this is their home, and they wouldn’t let this go on without helping if they knew about it.”

He shook his head, his arms dropping from his chest.

“No, Eve, I don’t think that’s what they’re doing,” he said acerbically. “There’s doing what’s required because the director of operations of the Federal Protective Service threatened to imprison you if you stuck your nose in another agency operation. Then there’s active determination to finish the job before something happens to the baby sister you swore you would protect. The first kind of man steps in only when asked to. The second doesn’t wait to be asked.”

And Dawg wouldn’t wait to be asked if he thought Eve, Piper, Lyrica, or Zoey were in danger.

“And you think Dawg won’t figure it out?” she questioned him harshly. “For God’s sake, Brogan, I promised him I would stay away from you. That I wouldn’t take as a lover the only man he couldn’t bear to see me with. Trust me; Dawg will question me. He’ll want to know why I broke my promise when I’ve never done it before.”

What had she done to betray her brother?

Disbelief crashed through her system as the reality of it, of the fact that she had done the one thing Dawg, her brother, had asked her not to do. The only thing he had ever asked her not to do.

“He should have never made you promise to stay away from me.” His brow arched, mockery gleaming in his eyes, but Eve could feel the thread of anger emanating from him.

“You’re a suspected traitor, Brogan,” she reminded him.

“Living in the same house as a former Homeland Security special agent,” he reminded her. “Don’t fool yourself, sweet pea. Dawg Mackay knows a traitor when he’s in the presence of one. Just as he knows an agent when one’s around.”

Eve stared back at him, hurting, her heart aching so fiercely she reached up to rub at her chest, trying to ease the burning tightness.

He was right. Dawg would have known Brogan was no traitor, so why would he deceive her? Make her believe he suspected Brogan of being exactly that?

“Maybe it’s because everyone else believes you’re one?” she questioned him, her voice rough. “Or maybe it’s because he suspected what your boss is capable of doing.”