by Nancy Gideon
A cynical chuckle. “What do you plan to do with him, my dear? Take him home on a chain? Keep him kenneled in your bedroom? You think you could control him once we kill all his people? Do you honestly think he’d be content to be your pet?”
“That’s not your concern, is it?”
His eyes narrowed in contemplation. “And if I do this favor for you, you’d do one for me?”
Ordinarily, she would have been on her guard, but the words escaped too quickly for clear thought. “Yes.”
“This one would benefit you, as well. You’ll be lauded for saving our people from a pretender.”
“Rueben is of a pure line.”
Thorne’s smile slid out, narrow and reptilian. “I’m not talking about your cousin.”
Mia couldn’t believe the other woman responded to her veiled invitation. How many pregnant females would set aside their safety to meet with a stranger whose agenda was unknown? Did curiosity or guilt draw the glamorous Brigit MacCreedy St. Clair out on a stormy afternoon to rendezvous in a seedy roadhouse halfway between the city and Savoie’s gated estate?
The second she saw the sinfully attractive redhead striding toward her table, all Mia could imagine was the other woman, a decade younger, writhing beneath the sleek, pumping flanks of her now reluctant mate. How beautiful they’d be together, supple, strong, filled with the endless energy of youth. A fierce resentment smoldered over deeds long past. But forgotten? How could any female forget Colin Terriot?
Hold to that rage. Cling to that image. Those things would get her through what she’d come to do on this dark day.
Draping her wet coat over one of the extra chairs, Brigit sat down, her stare direct, voice somber. “Is Colin all right?”
Jealousy roiled and flared hot. “Colin’s fine.” Two words carrying a volume of protectiveness.
Brigit smiled, the gesture filled with intuitive knowledge. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Thank you for what you did for him.”
Those perfect lips twitched in amusement as if aware how that simple statement cost her. “I didn’t do much. I wish I could have done more. Both now, and then.”
“This isn’t about Colin,” Mia growled.
A musical laugh. “Of course it is. How could it not be?” She studied Mia for a moment, those artfully arched brows lowered, then she reached out to grip her hand in a firm, startlingly warm grasp. She let go at the first firm tug, but her smile widened. “So that’s what’s changed. Cale must be having a heart attack. Or does he know?”
“Know what?”
“That you’ve bonded. He does. Even more interesting.” Her tone changed from entertained to intensity. “There is nothing between me and Colin except a hurried moment of like misery long ago. Oh, not that being with him was awful. What a kisser!” She sighed in remembrance, earning a darker glower from across the table. She sobered. “We’d both lost our families and found a sudden, and frankly surprising, connection just that once. He was vulnerable and so was I, or nothing ever would have happened. I don’t regret it, and I won’t apologize for it. I’m sure he’d been hot and heavy in many a closet before that defining moment. But the thing about Colin, he’s not one to really involve himself recklessly. He was more Abel Conroy’s son then Bram Terriot’s. Which is probably why Bram had Abel killed.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
“I didn’t. Your brother did. Daniel told me your uncle and Bram made a deal to get rid of their competition. Apparently, there was a movement even at that time to unite the clans. Abel and your father had been in contact to implement a truce. But that didn’t serve Guedry or Terriot purposes, and the would-be rebellion was crushed.”
Mia’s father had died. Colin’s step-father and brothers.
Isaac was right. Rueben had betrayed them! Mia didn't have time for subtlety. "Is that my brother's child?"
Brigit never blinked. "Why would you think that?"
"I'm good at math, and probability says you’re carrying the Guedry heir."
Her tone cooled considerably. "And if I am?"
"That would make us family."
"That would link our three houses.”
“And put you in more danger than you know."
Brigit sat back, not fearful as Mia would have expected, but thoughtful. “That explains a lot. Like who was behind the attempt on me and Cale on a dark road. I wouldn’t have thought he had the nerve.”
“Who?”
“Daniel’s supposed friend. Your uncle brought him into the family as an orphan, raised him to be a clever, heartless killer as one of their assassins and later, as Danny’s protector. When Danny came to New Orleans, he wanted us to run away. He’d found out his father’s death wasn’t at the hands of the Terriots. He suspected it was done by a serpent rising up from within to take control behind a weaker reign in league with Savoie. He was wrong about Savoie, and that’s what got Danny killed.”
Cold as death inside, Mia demanded, “Who?”
“Isaac Thorne.”
Mia gripped the other woman’s hand, pitching her voice low and taut. “Don’t react. Stand up and go back to the restrooms. Leave out the back. Be careful that no one sees you. Get behind Savoie’s walls and stay there. Now!”
No betraying emotion flickered on the lovely face. “What have you done?”
“I brought you here to be captured. But I think it’s so you could be killed. I’m sorry.”
Brigit rose, smiling over gritted teeth. “We’ll talk about how sorry you are another time,” she whispered. She picked up her purse but left her coat as she strolled leisurely toward the bathrooms.
Thorne!
He’d murdered her father, had manipulated Daniel into his own death. He’d fed her rumors and visions of revenge to direct her along the path he’d wanted her to take so he could control their people through her. And had almost succeeded.
Several of Thorne’s men turned from their beer glasses to study the back of the room. One spoke into his phone.
Brigit had been gone several minutes. Time enough for her to slip outside, but not to get a good enough head start when the foursome at the bar stood. Two went back toward the bathrooms, the other pair headed for the door. All Mia had to do was nothing and Thorne would never be the wiser.
But where family was concerned, Mia never chose wisely.
Colin burst through the clinic doors, slowing only slightly when he reached the desk. The woman there, recognizing him, directed him to one of the rooms. He skidded to a halt in the open doorway, standing stiff and still as he observed the scene.
Mia lay beneath a crisp sheet, her face turned to the side. Vivid bruises stood out against very pale skin. Rico sat at her bedside, her small fingers lost between the press of his hands. All sorts of jumbled emotions leapt through him, but he calmed them to ask, "Is she all right?"
"She's fine," Mia answered for herself, rolling gingerly onto her back.
The full impact of her appearance rocked him. One of her eyes had swollen shut. Her lips were cut and distorted by swelling. A square bandage covered half of one brow. She didn't look pleased to see him.
And he wasn't pleased when Rico leaned close to her to quietly ask, "Do you want me to stay?"
Colin started to bristle up, but Mia's calm, "No, that's okay," settled him down to an unpleasant internal rumbling.
Rico rubbed the back of her hand before setting it gently atop the covers so he could stand. The brothers didn't make eye contact as they passed one another. Colin thought he was okay with it until Rico paused in the doorway to address her.
"I'll be right outside."
Colin shut the door in his face. He took a long, forceful breath before turning back to his mate. Seeing her so brutalized undercut everything else, but the first words out of his mouth were inexcusably stupid. "Why did you call him instead of me?"
Her reply cut like a bone saw. "I wasn't sure you'd care enough to come." When he blinked and reared back as though she'd struck him
, she added, “Considering our last conversation, I was afraid you'd think I set the whole thing up to trick you."
"And I was thinking you called Rico to get back at me."
They regarded one another narrowly, each wounded and not sure how to recover until Mia demanded, "Why are you here?"
"Rico said you'd been hurt." His voice cracked at that last bit, forcing him to swallow hard. The rest wavered on a shaky breath. "I couldn't get here fast enough. Can I sit down?" He felt ready to fall down until she gave a slight nod. His knees weak, Colin slid into the chair his brother had warmed, hands clutching his knees. “What happened? Rico said you were attacked outside some bar.”
“Just can’t stay out of trouble.” Her attempted smile ended in a grimace.
“Who jumped you and why?”
“I don’t know. It’s pretty much a blur. When they realized I wasn’t an easy mark, and someone came outside, they ran off.”
Carefully, he lifted her hand to his cheek, nudging into it as his eyes closed. Feeling it tremble, he dragged her fingertips lightly across his lips. He couldn't look at her as he growled softly, "Whoever did this will wish they'd never been conceived."
The sudden hitch in her breathing brought his gaze up as her features twisted then firmed. Worry spiked.
"How bad is it?" he insisted.
"Nothing's broken. I'll mend."
"Do you have to stay here?"
"No. I can leave any time as long as I have someone to keep an eye on me for the next eight hours or so in case of a concussion."
“You have someone.”
Without waiting, he tossed back the covers and scooped her carefully into his arms. Any fear she might protest quieted when she nestled against his shoulder with a sigh.
Rico was another matter. "Hey, what are you’re doing?"
"We’re going home," was the last thing Mia heard.
Her eyes flashed opened. Pain and fear screamed through her. Mia’s first thought was self-preservation. Her panicked gasp brought a quiet murmur.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Everything ached, from her eyelids to her shin bones. But none of that mattered. When she inhaled, the most delicious scent in the world saturated her senses. Colin . . . Wrapped in warmth and comfort, the wonderful heat she absorbed was from his body stretched out beside her in the bed they’d shared. On this new day, it was purely for comfort. And reconnection.
She wore one of his big tee shirts, her socks and panties. He was fully dressed except for his boots beneath the drape of a single light blanket. Curled into him, back to front, his large form surrounding hers protectively, carefully, his breath brushing softly past her ear. His voice rumbled like a caress.
“How are you feeling?”
“Mmmm. Better now.”
Rolling toward him took a heroic effort. Nerve endings set up a chorus of complaints difficult to accept in silence. She managed to lift her arm high enough to slide over his ribs so her palm could cup his shoulder blade. Her battered face took shelter against his throat. His slow swallow quieted her fears.
“Colin.”
“Shhh. Rest now. Talk later.”
She was safe. She was home. Nothing else mattered beyond the two of them, together, finally. Concerns, fears, uncertainties, all could wait while she healed from the inside out within the tender wrap of his embrace. Then there’d be time to think. And act.
He couldn’t stay silent. "I should have been there."
"No!” When he recoiled from her sharp reply, Mia gentled her follow-up. "No. This is not your fault. No way you're carrying what happened to me along with all the rest of your supposed sins. Just not happening. This had nothing to do with you. You couldn't have foreseen it. You couldn't have stopped it. Understand? This is not on you." When he was silent, she prompted, "Got it?"
"Sure."
"Oh, I'm going to need a little more than that, pal."
"I could have stopped it if I'd been there. They wouldn't have come after you if I'd insisted you stay with me."
"But you weren't and you didn't. Get over it."
Lifting her head from his shoulder too quickly brought spots dancing across her vision, but she blinked them away to study his somber features. So determined to bear the brunt of her suffering, the sight of him made her heart ache. And made her mad as hell.
“I am not your responsibility. I can, and did, take care of myself. We live dangerous lives, Colin. Shit happens, ready or not. I've been taking care of myself for a long time. I don't need you to fight my battles for me. I don't want you to."
He heard something totally different. "So, you don't need or want me."
"I need and want you in ways you can't imagine." She put fingertips to his lips before he could speak. "And those ways aren't spelled S-E-X." She traced those tempting swells and peaks, adding huskily, "Though those are definitely nice. I needed to see that look on your face when you plowed over Rico to get to my bedside. I wanted to wake up this morning surrounded by you. I need you as part of my life, not in control of it. Okay?"
He stared at her unblinking.
She sighed. "Right now, I need to get out of this bed before things happen that I'm not prepared for."
"I'm sorry. I'll give you your space." He started to pull away so quickly, Mia had to grab him by the back of the neck.
"Oh, you’re not going anywhere, dreamboat. My space has you in it. And I want you really, really bad. Unfortunately, I need rest not recreation, so we need to get a little less horizontal. If we follow through on what I'd like to be doing, it would probably kill me. But make no mistake. You’re not getting any farther away from me than this. Okay with you?"
Slowly, deliberately, his eyes grew heavy-lidded. "It's very okay with me."
Colin reached down to hook one arm behind her knees, the other circling her shoulders as he rolled to his feet, carrying her from the temptation of the bed into the living room. She thought he was heading for the couch, but he paused only long enough to grab up a fleecy blanket folded on one end before going out onto the patio. There, he dropped into one of the chairs, positioning her at an angle across his lap before tucking the blanket about them.
The air was cool, but the sun surprisingly warm and bright, bathing her upturned face in a toasty warmth almost as satisfying as the heat rising from the solid form beneath her. Arms about his torso, cheek on his shoulder, Mia relaxed, letting everything but the two of them melt away.
"Not too cold, are you?"
She shook her head.
"I miss the cold," he mused, tipping his face up to the light, teasing breeze.
"Do you miss home?" she asked, wondering if he’d be truthful.
He was silent for a long beat then sighed. "Not like I thought I would.”
"And your family?"
"Not like I thought I would," came a quieter response.
Cued by his melancholy, she glanced up at his pensive face. "You don't want to go back."
Her apparent shock had the corners of his mouth lifting. "I like what I've found here. I like who I'm becoming here. I like who I'm with. I don't want those things to change." Very softly, he asked, "How 'bout you?"
"Ditto."
"Ditto, huh?" That small smile unfurled as he bent to brush his lips over hers before settling in for some serious business. His slow, careful, will-melting kiss left her dazed and nearly boneless. After a long minute, her eyes flickered open, and she simply stared at him.
"I can see why they love you."
"Who?"
"Your sisters. Your sisters-in-law. Your bedtime fan club."
A puzzled frowned. "I'm kinda concerned about what they might all have in common."
"We can see right through your swaggering, hot-stuff posturing to that gooey center you try to hide. Colin Terriot, you're a sweetheart.
He recoiled in horror. "I am not!"
"Oh, yeah. A puppies and kittens, babies and butterflies, sensitive kinda guy."
He huffed a bit then grumb
led, "I like dogs. And cats. Butterflies I can take or leave."
Her heart started beating faster. "And babies?"
A faint smile of remembrance. "When the girls were little, they were all over me. I couldn't sit down without having one or more of them in my lap, pulling on my earrings, drooling all over the place."
"And you loved it."
"I did."
"And you love them."
Huskier. "I do. And I look forward to those things again when I have my own."
Mia quieted, face nestling into the warm lee between neck and shoulder, feeling his swallow beneath the press of her lips.
"How 'bout you?" he asked. "Dogs, cats, kids, caterpillars?" When she didn't respond, Colin took a deep breath and ventured, "Mia?”
The relaxation left her lush curves. She lay tense and unmoving against him as she asked, “What kind of kids would we have, Colin? What kind of world would kids made between us live in? Would they be Terriot? Guedry?”
“They’d be our kids, in our world. The best one we can make for them as a mom and dad. The one we make for them here, where names don’t matter.”
“Don’t they? Aren’t you being a little naïve?”
“Aren’t you being a little pessimistic?”
“You’re Terriot prince. I’m a Guedry heir. Our names matter, if not to us so much then to those around us.”
“That’s their problem, isn’t it?” His tone sharpened. “What kinda problem are you trying to make it into, Mia? The kind that got you all black and blue?”
Her head lifted so she could meet his slightly narrowed stare. “No problem, Colin. I can’t think of anyone who’d make a better father for my children. You’re going to be amazing.” Before he could relax, she added, “But our families aren’t going to make it puppies, kittens and rainbows for us. Ask your brother, Turow. I’d ask mine, but he’s dead.”
He kissed her furrowed brow next to the bandage, then her cheek at the corner of an ugly bruise, her lips where they were still tender and swollen, each touch infinitely gentle. “I know what we’ll be up against. But neither one of us is going to walk away from what we have here. We’re going to build something strong, something special that will make it easier for the next fools who go against the grain to have and hold onto what they deserve. We deserve to be happy, Mia. Our children will grow up happy and brave because of it. You in this with me?”