Undaunted (12 page)
Authors: Kate Douglas
Tags: #paranormal romance, #Demon, #Wolf Tales, #sexy, #erotica, #erotic romance
She ignored him, stubbornly folding her arms across her middle. Damn him. She’d wanted to drive her own car, but do you think he’d take her by the cemetery to pick it up? “I’ll do my own shopping as soon as you take me to my car. I’m not getting out until you do.”
“Your car will be delivered within the hour. I’ve already sent for it.”
“How?” She glared out of the corner of her eye. He glared back. “You don’t have the keys.”
“I took them out of your purse.”
“You what?” She unzipped her bag and scrambled through the garbage that seemed to collect in there of its own volition. No keys. “You had no right to go through my bag.”
“It was done under the watchful eye of the police captain. In fact, it was his idea. He didn’t want you driving, not after the emotional strain you’ve been through. Now please get out of the car.”
She figured she could sit here a while longer to make her point, but it wouldn’t prove a thing. Besides, if she didn’t find a bathroom soon she’d probably wet her pants. It was truly amazing what pregnancy did to a perfectly healthy body. She didn’t see Mr. O’Rourke taking lightly to pee stains on his expensive leather upholstery. She swung her legs around and stepped out of the car before Seamus could once again offer his hand. For some reason it felt like a victory. A very small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
A strident voice in the back of her mind reminded Kat she was the one supposedly calling the shots. She pushed the voice aside, grabbed a tight hold on her tiny victory and followed Seamus into the house.
“This will be your room.” Seamus opened the door and stepped back, waiting for her comment of appreciation, her acknowledgment of the tasteful decor.
Instead she brushed by him and headed directly for the bathroom, as if she’d been here a thousand times before.
“You’re not going to be sick again, are you?” Please, he thought. Not here. He glanced at the toe of his shoe, wiped clean after this morning, and wondered if he’d ever wear this pair again.
He heard the toilet flush, the sound of running water, then she was standing in the doorway wiping her hands on one of his grandmother’s delicate hand-embroidered towels. “Thought I was gonna pop.” She tossed the towel on the counter behind her. “Nice room.” Kat looked around as if she’d just stepped into a Motel 6. She dumped her bag on the bed and slipped her fitted black jacket off her shoulders, then casually removed a lethal-looking pistol from a previously unseen shoulder holster.
Seamus thought for a minute he might be the one to throw up. “What in God’s name is that?”
“It’s a pistol, nine-millimeter Ruger, to be exact.” She carefully unfastened the holster, slipped the harness down her arm and folded the whole contraption into a neat bundle. “Riley carried a gun. You knew that. We have very similar jobs, the same kinds of risks. So what’s the big deal?”
“Riley wasn’t pregnant,” was all he could think to say.
“Well of course not.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, if it’s a problem, I’ll leave. I can find a room in town, but the gun stays with me. I’ve had three attempts on my life in the last year alone. You saw what my apartment looked like.”
“Just what is it you do, Ms. Malone?” He knew, as with Riley’s work with the FBI, she was some kind of investigator, at least that’s what the police captain had alluded to. Somehow, though, the reality of a loaded gun tucked neatly under the arm of this tall, slim blonde with the look of a fashion model and the mouth of a street walker wasn’t all that easy to digest. Neither was the stark image of the weapon lying on his grandmother’s crocheted bedspread.
“I’m a field agent for the Department of Transportation. Or was, that is, until I barfed in my partner’s car on stakeout. I’ve since been assigned desk duty for the duration of my pregnancy.” She flashed him a dry but tired smile. Seamus had the odd sensation of having been punched in the gut while tumbling down Alice’s rabbit hole.
Not a particularly pleasant feeling, but Lord Almighty, the woman was magnificent when she smiled. “That doesn’t tell me what you do, though, does it?” He struggled for a sense of balance. “Do you have to carry a gun?”
“You are an uptight fish, aren’t you?” She smiled again, and once more he felt dizzy with the glory of it. “I guess, to be perfectly explicit, my job requires me to track down crooks within our transportation system. Truck drivers embezzling goods, smugglers bringing things in or taking them out of the country, mob activity, whatever illegal actions someone can think of that affects how goods are moved.” She smiled again, holding her hands out as if for understanding. “When you deal with crooks, it’s a good idea to at least match their firepower.”
“I see. I guess you surprised me. To be quite honest, you don’t look the part.”
“No, actually, I look like a hooker. A high-class hooker is how my supervisor describes me, but still a hooker. I think that’s what got me the job in the first place. I do a lot of undercover work.”
She said it with a twinkle in her eye, but her play on words still made his palms sweat. Leave it to Riley to fall for a street walker, or someone who made her living looking like one. “Is that how you met my brother? Working undercover?”
“No. I met Riley on a job in Utah. My partner was the one working undercover. I was his backup. We were out from the office in Pittsburgh. Riley was brought in from the San Francisco bureau. We hit it off.” She glanced down at her perfectly flat middle. “Yeah, you might say we hit it off real well.”
“You don’t act like a woman in love.” Her choice of words grated over raw nerves. Seamus stepped closer. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know you’re carrying Riley’s child, not some other man’s bastard? Hell, how do I know you’re even pregnant?”
Seamus knew how to use his size and presence, but instead of backing away from him as he expected, she stood her ground. Her stubborn poise infuriated him. Seamus felt his muscles tense, knew his control was ready to snap.
“Good Lord, O’Rourke. You think I go around puking on people for fun?” Her tired reply undid him.
He practically shouted at her, “My brother was the one with the fertility problems, Ms. Malone. Didn’t Riley tell you? It wasn’t Clarisse’s fault they couldn’t have children. It was his. Now you come along out of the blue and tell me you’re pregnant and Riley’s the father and you expect me to just swallow your story?” He reached out for some inexplicable reason and raised her chin with his fingers. “Hell, you don’t even look pregnant.”
He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it certainly wasn’t the flash of vulnerability followed by a rush of blazing anger. “I don’t give a rat’s ass whether you believe me or not, O’Rourke.” She slapped his hand aside. “I may look like a whore but I don’t act like one. As for mourning your brother, well, it’s difficult to mourn a man who didn’t exist. I fell in love with Riley O’Rourke, a fun-loving, sweet-talking Irish devil who promised me the stars, who swore undying love and said we’d always be together. I don’t have affairs with married men, Mr. O’Rourke. I didn’t fall in love with a liar and a cheat. That man can go to hell for all I care and I’ll not mourn him.”
He felt like a deflated balloon, all the fight gone out of him. “Sadly, Ms. Malone, neither will I.” Seamus bowed his head and turned to leave the room. Guilt twisted his gut and clamped a cold, hard fist over his heart. He’d spent his life covering up for his twin, pulling him out of one scrape after another, making excuses for him, compromising his own values to save Riley’s tail, wishing him dead more often than not.
One thing he’d learned, Seamus realized. He’d never wish anyone dead again because the guilt was almost unbearable.
He would, however, do one more thing for Riley. He took another long look at Kathleen Malone. She stood in the middle of the room he would always think of as “Gran’s room,” one hand protectively covering her flat stomach. Silently Seamus vowed he would watch over her. He’d watch over the sassy blonde with the face of a saint and he’d be there for the child she carried. Riley’s child. As close to his own as any child would ever be. That brief flash of vulnerability had told him more than any lie detector, any blood test, ever could. There was no reason to doubt her word.
She did indeed carry Riley’s child.
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “You must be tired.” He paused, one hand on the doorknob. “Why don’t you rest. Come down when you feel like it and have some dinner. If you like, I can take you into town later to shop for a few things to replace what was . . . damaged. Or take your own car. It’s entirely up to you.”
“You’re damned right it’s up to me.” She held his gaze a moment, clear-eyed and steady, then abruptly turned away and stared out the window.
Women. Seamus glared at her rigid back, searching unsuccessfully for the trace of vulnerability he was certain he’d seen earlier.
Shit. You try to be nice . . .
He turned and stalked out of the room.
The door clicked behind him and Kathleen burst into tears. Damn, it had been one hell of a day. And damn it again, but she didn’t want to cry. But her hormones were totally screwed, she was tired and pregnant and sick to her stomach and Riley was dead.
She hadn’t been telling the truth when she said she wouldn’t mourn him. She would. She’d miss his laughter and kindness and the plans they’d made. Plans he’d obviously never intended to keep, damn him. And damn his insufferable brother Seamus as well. For being kind, for worrying about her, for giving her refuge when she needed it most. She didn’t want to owe him a thing. Nor did she want to be intrigued by a man who epitomized all the uptight personality traits she despised. A man who looked exactly like the one she thought she’d loved.
That man obviously never existed at all.
Damn. Damn. Damn it all to hell.
Kat stripped her clothes off and crawled between the sheets, too tired to shower, too emotionally exhausted to care. One hand rested protectively over her belly, protecting her child. Riley’s child. The child Seamus told her was impossible.
Later,
she thought. She’d worry about it later.
* * *
Oh, this was actually fun . . . and so easy. There was no need even to stop the car. He merely noted the location and glided quietly past the mansion.
About the Author
Kate Douglas is the lead author of Kensington Publishing’s Aphrodisia imprint and the author of the popular erotic paranormal romance series
Wolf Tales
and
Dream Catchers
, as well as the Zebra series
DemonSlayers
. She is currently writing the next Chanku series, Spirit Wild. The first book,
Dark Wolf
, is available now.
Kate and her husband of over forty years have two adult children and six grandchildren. They live in the beautiful wine country of Sonoma County, California, in the little town of Healdsburg.
Write to Kate at
[email protected]
. She answers all her email. Connect with her on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/katedouglas.authorpage
or on Twitter @wolftales.
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