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?”
Chaya felt her face go numb with grief and shock. She had just spoken to Kyle. He had told her about his engagement, to his third wife. He was barely forty. He had laughed about her showing up late and the news that she was moving into the boat with Natches. Accusing her of going above and beyond the call of duty.
He had a daughter in high school. She had worked with him for years. He was going to retire after this assignment. Go into private security, he had told her once. Plenty of money and none of the hassles. A man made it to forty, and he wanted a chance to enjoy just a few years danger free.
