Lucan (Steele Protectors 6)

by Carole Mortimer

  If she ever forgave Hailey for her deceit.

  Which was a big fucking if.

  “They sound interesting,” Becca answered him.

  He snorted. “That’s one way of describing them.”

  “Where are you in the pecking order?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Age,” she explained. “Who’s the eldest, and then on down to the youngest.”

  “Ah. Atticus is thirty-seven, I’m thirty-six, Bryce is thirty-five, Haydn thirty-four, and Logan and Rourke are twins and the youngest at thirty-three.”

  “I bet your parents were kept very busy when you were all young.”

  “Doesn’t seem to have stopped them continuing to be just as busy in the bedroom,” he said dryly.

  Becca chuckled. “You also have an adopted sister, you said?”

  “Jenna. She’s now married to Atticus. Long story,” he dismissed when Becca raised surprised eyebrows.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Obviously not.” He grimaced. “Well, Jenna was only eight when she went to live with my parents, and they became her guardians after her own parents died or…or were no longer able to look after her. We’d all mainly left home by that time and enlisted in the army, so we only saw her when we were on leave. She liked to follow Atticus around and was a cute little thing, until she hit her teens.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Yep.” Lucan gave a shake of his head. “By the time she was sixteen, she had a nickname for each of us. Logan, the pain—because he’s far too impulsive a lot of the time. Rourke, the charmer—because he can charm just about anyone into doing what he wants. Bryce, the fighter; he was Special Ops, but in so deep, none of us really know what shit he was involved in. Haydn, the nerd—because he’s one of the top five computer hackers in the world. Atticus, the eldest.”

  “And you?” It was glaringly obvious to her that he had missed himself out of that summary.

  His gaze was shuttered. “Originally, I was the quiet one, but later, I became the accountant.” He raised his head, his eyes now challenging.

  Becca nodded. “Because you balance the status quo in regard to the criminals who cross you and your family.”

  “Yes,” he confirmed gruffly.

  “Atticus the eldest?” She changed the subject to something less painful for him.

  Lucan grinned, the tension easing from his shoulders. “I think that was meant more as an insult, because for years, he kept telling Jenna, and himself, that he was too old for her.”

  Becca couldn’t help but laugh at the sixteen-year-old girl’s audacity. “But she wore him down, hm?”

  Lucan chuckled. “Not much deters Jenna. But in reality, all the brothers, including Haydn the nerd, became trained killing machines during our years in the army. Not that it’s ever bothered Jenna in the slightest. She’ll go toe to toe with any of us if she doesn’t agree with what we’re doing or saying.” His smile became affectionate. “But equally, she’s protective as hell of all of us.”

  Becca chuckled. “I get the feeling there’s a lot more to Jenna than you’ve told me.”

  “Because there is. But it’s her story to tell, not mine.”

  “Tell me more about your brothers.” There had only ever been Becca and Cassie for the first sixteen years of her life, and since Cassie’s death, she had been completely alone in regard to blood relatives. She couldn’t imagine having five brothers as well as a sort-of sister.

  “Well,” Lucan answered her slowly, “I don’t think I’m breaking any secrets when I tell you that through marriage, we now have connections to the Irish mob and the Italian Mafia, and Bryce’s best friend is head of security and second-in-command to Gregori Markovic, the head of the Russian Bratva in London.”

  “Whoa.” Becca’s eyes were wide. “Who has the Irish mob connection?”

  “Originally, Jenna, and now Atticus too, as her husband.”

  “And the Italian Mafia?”

  “Bryce is married to Bella, who is the sister of Matteo Zalotti, the head of the London Italian Mafia. He’s going through a bit of a power struggle at the moment, but I have no doubt he’ll come out on top of that situation. But to make their relationship even more complicated, Bella is also a policewoman.”

  “What a colorful family you have!”

  “You have no idea.”

  “There’s more?” Becca was absolutely fascinated.

  He nodded. “Logan is married to August, Jenna’s best friend, and when those two get together, we never know what’s going to happen. August owns an art gallery and somehow manages to continue loving Logan despite his recklessness. Sophie, Rourke’s wife and the receptionist you spoke to earlier at Steele Protectors, well, her father worked as an accountant for a small-time crook. For years, he helped this other man launder the money from his ill-gotten gains. He then got tired of stashing money away for his employer and decided to embezzle some of the money for himself. He almost got himself killed until Gregori Markovic intervened and put an end to the situation.”

  “How did he do that?”

  He shrugged. “My gun’s bigger than your gun? I wasn’t there, but however it was resolved, the previous employer has now backed off.”

  “Where’s Sophie’s father now?”

  “Working for Gregori Markovic.”

  Her brows rose. “Helping him launder money?”

  “No.” Lucan chuckled. “Gregori’s businesses are mainly legit nowadays.”

  Becca noted that he knew the Russian well enough too to call him by his first name. This was a completely different world from her academic one. “Any more skeletons in the family cupboard?”

  “My father worked for MI6 before his retirement.”

  “Okay.” She nodded slowly. “Anything else?”

  “Nothing repeatable,” Lucan said, accepting that Haydn and Hailey’s story really wasn’t his to tell. Except Becca seemed to know instinctively there was something about Haydn he wasn’t telling her.

  Becca eye him quizzically. “Is Haydn married too?”

  “Not yet,” he hedged.

  “But he will be soon?”

  Lucan nodded. “Pretty sure he will, yes.”

  “Does the lady in question know that?” she derided.

  “If she doesn’t, she soon will,” he assured. “They say the quiet ones are the worst, and when Haydn decides on something he wants, he’s like a heat-seeking missile.”

  She arched a teasing brow. “You’re quiet too. Does that mean I should be wary of you?”

  “Well, right now, you’re exactly where I wanted you to be, so yes, probably.” Luckily, dinner was now ready for them to eat, Lucan having continued to cook the potatoes and grill the steaks while they chatted. And he was right about the salad; Becca’s colorful concoction looked a lot more appetizing than what he would have prepared.

  Lucan’s attempt to put Becca back at ease by telling her about his family had worked, thank God. She had looked on the verge of emotionally falling to pieces half an hour ago.

  Who could blame her, when she obviously sensed Lucan wasn’t telling her the whole story of what was going on?

  Another meltdown like the one earlier, and to hell with what Hailey wanted. Lucan would be telling Becca the whole truth, not just part of it.

  Chapter Seven

  To Becca’s surprise, she was relaxed enough to eat all the food on her plate as she and Lucan continued to talk through dinner.

  As she was meant to be?

  No doubt that had been Lucan’s intention, she accepted, knowing she’d been heading toward a massive meltdown over this situation until Lucan stepped in and started talking about his family.

  Because of the situation, but mainly because Lucan bought me new lacy bras and panties.

  It still felt a little uncomfortable to her, but she no longer felt as if she was going to freak out about it. Besides, Lucan had said he would take her shopping tomorrow so she could replace the things he’d bought.

&n
bsp; “Any preference on the bedroom?”

  Lucan almost dropped the plate he’d been drying. “What the hell…?” He scowled at her.

  Her cheeks reddened. “On the bedroom, not in it,” she stated firmly. “As in, which of the two bedrooms do you want me to use, not which sexual position do you prefer?”

  Ah. “Sorry.” He grimaced. “But for the record, I don’t have a preferred sexual position. I also like having a woman on top as much as I like being on top of her.”

  Becca frowned. “I really didn’t need to know that!”

  He shrugged. “Just thought I would throw it out there.”

  “Then I suggest you reel it back in again,” she snapped.

  “Fine. And to answer your question, as I don’t leave any of my things at the cottage, I’m okay with either bedroom. Just shut the door so that I know which room you’re in.”

  “Fine.” Becca gave him an over-bright smile. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.” She turned and picked up the bag with her clothes in it before crossing the room. She hesitated when she reached the bottom of the staircase.

  Lucan instantly sensed something was off in Becca’s behavior. She’d seemed fine through dinner, but now she was tense again. She also seemed reluctant to go up the stairs. “If you’re worried about it, let me assure you I’m not going to pounce on you in the night—” He broke off as she quickly whirled toward him. Her face was pale, and he could see the tears balanced on her long lashes. “What the hell, Becca…?” He crossed the room to join her at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I’m not worried about you pouncing on me!” Her cheeks were flushed, her hands clenched at her sides. “When the monsters come in the night, they don’t look anything like you,” she continued emotionally, those tears falling unchecked as she gave a shudder. “They look like Ernesto Silva and his brother, Eduardo. They look like the other three animals who took my sister and, ultimately, the rest of my family away from me.”

  Shit. Bugger. Damn.

  Lucan had been so busy trying to protect himself from the incessant desire he felt for this woman, he hadn’t considered the full import of what this situation might do to Becca.

  He reached out to lightly grasp the tops of her arms. “I won’t let him get anywhere near you,” he promised huskily.

  She gave a choked laugh. “You can’t make a promise like that and keep it.”

  “Yeah, I can,” he assured.

  She looked up at him. Whatever she saw there caused the tears to stop and the tension to ease from her shoulders. “I’ve said lots of things to you today, not all of them polite,” she acknowledged ruefully. “But I don’t think I’ve said thank you.” Her voice was husky.

  He smiled. “For what? Kidnapping you? Dragging you off to the wilds of the New Forest? Being creepy enough to go through your trash and buy you lace underwear?”

  Becca recognized the accusations she’d hurled at him earlier. “I don’t think I ever used the word creepy.”

  “No, I’m the one who called myself that once I thought about what I’d done.” He grimaced. “It’s standard procedure to go through the trash during a job and I just didn’t think… I apologize for coming across as a creepy stalker.”

  Becca smiled. “Well, look at the two of us, being all polite and adult.”

  Lucan chuckled, once again looking years younger without his usually grim expression. “Is that what we’re doing?” He sobered. “If you need me during the night, I’ll be just across the hall. The door will be open.” He bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “The bathroom is at the end of the hallway, and there should be hot water now if you want to take a shower.”

  A shower wouldn’t do much for Becca’s inner turmoil, but at least it would mean she could go to bed clean, if not exactly refreshed.

  She had a feeling she wouldn’t completely feel either of those things again until she knew Ernesto Silva had stopped looking for her.

  Whenever that might be.

  Becca had been convinced she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not because the cottage wasn’t warm, because it was—the radiators were on, and it was now boiling hot.

  It had been years since Becca had been to the New Forest with her foster parents, and she’d forgotten how quiet it was at night after living in London for the past five years.

  It was also really weird sharing the silence of the cottage with Lucan, a man she had only just met, but who said he only wanted to protect her.

  Especially when Becca recognized that her feelings toward him were much more complicated. Despite what Lucan might believe, she had not only come to trust and like him and his blunt way of talking, but she also desired his lean and powerfully muscled body.

  Not an easy admission coming from a woman who had dedicated herself to first getting her degree and then her job at the museum helping to preserve and care for the often priceless paintings hanging or stored there.

  Oh, she’d dated a few times during her years at university. She had even lost her virginity to the one man she’d dated for six months. The two times they’d had sex had been mediocre. She’d thought maybe the first time had been because of the pain of losing her virginity, but the second had been just as unsatisfactory. After that, she’d allowed the relationship to die a natural death. And never repeated the experience.

  Becca knew just from kissing Lucan that there would be nothing boring or mediocre about having sex with him.

  Something that had occupied her thoughts for several hours after she’d heard Lucan come up the stairs not long after she returned to her bedroom after taking a shower. He’d taken a shower himself before returning to the bedroom opposite this one. The door, as he had said, remained open, and Becca knew it was because of his dislike of enclosed spaces.

  Becca had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep an hour or so later.

  Then what was she doing awake now? It was completely dark outside still, and a glance at the clock on the bedside table told her it was shortly after two o’clock in the morning—

  “Get the fuck away from me, you bastards!”

  Lucan!

  “Get any closer, and I’ll break your fucking neck!”

  Lucan having a nightmare?

  Becca had felt she had to warn him earlier that she had the occasional nightmare, but it had never occurred to her that he had them too. Considering what she knew of his past, it should have done.

  “When I get out of this hole, you’re all going to pay,” he continued to shout. “Slowly,” he promised grimly. “One at a time.”

  Definitely a nightmare, if he still thought he was in that hole in the ground in Afghanistan.

  Was it bad that Becca felt satisfaction that those bastards had paid because Lucan and his brothers had returned there and ensured they did?

  Bad or not, she felt only a sense of justice in that knowledge rather than shock.

  “Touch me again, and I’ll make sure yours is the slowest and most painful death!”

  Becca quickly switched on the bedside lamp before throwing back the bedcovers and hurrying out into the hallway and then into the bedroom opposite.

  There was enough light shining across the hallway from her bedroom to illuminate Lucan as he thrashed about in the bed. His hands were clenched into fists above where the duvet had fallen down to his waist, revealing that he was naked from the waist up. And also lower? Possibly.

  “Cut me again, and the moment I’m free, I’ll kill you with your own fucking knife!” Pain edged Lucan’s voice now, as if he could once again feel the slicing of that knife into his flesh.

  Becca had heard people say it was dangerous to wake someone from a nightmare, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—just stand here and listen to Lucan suffering as he relived the terrible ordeal that had been his reality for six long months.

  She moved to sit on the side of the bed. “Lucan,” she gently murmured before running her fingers lightly down the tension of his clenched jaw. “Sweetheart, you need to wake up,” she e
ncouraged. “Wake up for me, honey.” Without realizing it, Becca had fallen into calling him by the same affectionate terms her mother and Cassie had always used with her when she was a child. “Lucan, open your eyes and look at me,” she prompted again when she realized he’d at least stopped thrashing beneath the duvet. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.” She couldn’t wait to see his eyes now that he was no longer wearing the barrier of those dark-framed glasses.

  Dark lashes fluttered before he raised his lids. “Sweetheart?” he repeated ruefully.

  “Sweetie pie. Snookums. Sugarplum. Smoochykins. Teddy bear.” Becca covered her relief at his being awake by teasing him with other over-the-top terms of endearment.

  Without the glasses, it was possible to see his eyes fully. They were a dark chocolate brown, and as softly beautiful as she’d imagined they’d be.

  “Okay, that last one was going too far.” He ran a hand through his already tousled hair as he moved to sit up against the pillows, the duvet remaining about his waist and revealing his tanned chest. “What time is it?” he prompted huskily as that piercing gaze roamed over her disheveled appearance.

  Becca felt her cheeks warm as Lucan obviously took in the fact her hair was loose and tousled about her shoulders and she was only wearing the blue silk knee-length nightgown he’d bought for her. “Two in the morning. And you didn’t like being called a teddy bear?” she taunted.

  His mouth twisted. “It doesn’t exactly fit in with the way I see myself, no.”

  Becca tilted her head. “How do you see yourself?”

  His nostrils flared. “More of a lone wolf, with the same fierce sense of self-preservation.”

  “Wolves are only dangerous if they feel threatened or they’re hungry.”

  “Like I said, self-preservation.” He nodded. “I had another nightmare, didn’t I,” he stated flatly.

  “Just a little one,” Becca confirmed. “I… You said those men were cutting you.”

  His throat moved as he swallowed. “Half a dozen of my torturers thought it might be fun to carve their names on my back.”

  Becca felt slightly sick, both because of the pain those cuts would have caused and because Lucan now had to carry those names around with him for the rest of his life. “Are they dead?”