Bayou Heat

by Donna Kauffman

  “He didn’t come right out and say it.” She shrugged as if to make light of it, wondering how foolish she was being, intruding where she didn’t belong. So what else is new, McClure? Your whole life is about intruding where you don’t belong.

  Yeah, but this time, I don’t want to be just an observer, I want to belong, responded that tiny voice inside her. She squashed it.

  “He just commented on your lifestyle since you’ve come home. He sounded kind of concerned about all the time you spend down here. I think he sort of wishes you were more connected with your family.”

  “I work here. My family is here.”

  “Not all of it, Teague.”

  “You don’t have any idea what you’re getting into there, Erin.”

  “I’d like to,” she said, before she lost her nerve. She took a small, shaky breath and added, “I care too, Teague. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you either.”

  He stared at her, his mask slowly slipping away, until the ferocity of emotion in his face made her knees weak.

  “Then let’s go see what Belisaire wants so I can get back to finding out what is going on down here.”

  “Teague, I want to—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “Let me do what I have to do. What I need to do. Then I’ll come get you and we’ll talk.”

  “At Beaumarchais?” She knew instantly she’d said the wrong thing.

  “No. I have somewhere else in mind.”

  He was trying, so would she. “Okay.”

  Teague nodded, then turned up the path. He went several steps then slowed to let her catch up. Without looking, he reached back and took her hand. When she paused, he tugged gently, pulling her to his side.

  Erin looked down, heat in her cheeks, a broad smile curving her lips. She darted a sideways glance at him and squeezed his hand at the same time.

  Teague didn’t drop her hand when they entered the hounfour. Though Belisaire didn’t so much as glance at them, Erin was certain she’d seen the intimate connection. It didn’t bother her in the least. There would be plenty of time later for extended analysis. For now, Belisaire would likely command all her wits.

  She didn’t have to wait long for confirmation.

  “Come, sit.” The older woman led them into the peristyle and gestured to a round oak table in one corner of her bagi.

  As usual, Belisaire didn’t waste any time. “We will be conducting a special ceremony this Sunday night. Not public. You are welcome to attend, Erin.” Her tone left no doubt that this was a command appearance. Erin didn’t mind. She was thrilled, could barely sit still. Finally!

  Teague must have sensed it. He squeezed her hand beneath the small pedestal table.

  Belisaire shifted her gaze to Teague. His hand froze on Erin’s for a moment and she fought a smile. The idea of anyone, even Belisaire, striking so much as a heartbeat of a pause in Teague Comeaux amused her to no end. His sudden tight pressure let her know he’d seen her expression. She barely caught the laughter bubbling up in her throat. For goodness’ sake, they were acting like schoolchildren. And in front of Belisaire.

  She struggled to compose herself. The ritual. She focused on that. A goal of a lifetime achieved.

  “You will come too,” Belisaire directed to Teague. “As guide and chaperone to Erin. Answer her questions.”

  Teague slid his hand from hers and steepled his fingers on the table. He might as well have shouted his discomfort. Erin felt oddly bereft.

  “I’m sorry, Grand-mère, but I can’t do that.”

  Erin turned to him, her mouth open in surprise.

  “For her to be accepted, you must,” Belisaire said simply.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to—”

  “Without your chaperonage, I’m afraid I refuse to let Erin attend.”

  Erin’s stunned gaze swung back to Belisaire. “I wouldn’t get in the way,” she interjected quickly. “Tell me where to stand and I won’t move. State the rules, I’ll follow them.” Erin knew she wasn’t swaying her one whit. “I’m honored, Belisaire. This is such an important opportunity for me. You must know that. You have my word I would not intrude. But I do want to be there.”

  Belisaire’s only response was to look at Teague. “You will attend, chèr. You must.”

  The tension in the room was palpable.

  “I have other obligations.”

  “And I say you will be here.” She didn’t raise her voice, but the order was like a clap of thunder.

  “I’m no longer a boy you can command, Belisaire. If I say I cannot be here, you must respect that. But don’t penalize Erin, Grand-mère. She has worked hard for this opportunity.”

  “It will be as I say, Teague. Or it will not be.”

  Belisaire pushed to a stand, bracing her palms on the table. She stared in silence, first at Teague, then at Erin. Finally she straightened and clasped her hands in front of her.

  “You will choose, chèr.” Her eyes rested on Erin, but she spoke to Teague. “Choose well.”

  She turned and walked to the door. “I will speak with Erin this afternoon,” she said without looking back. “You may come get her in three hours.” She left the enclosed courtyard, disappearing into the back of the small house. The echo of a door quietly closing sounded a moment later.

  Teague was silent. The tension was still knife-slicing thick. Erin finally blew out a long sigh and leaned back in her chair.

  Teague stood. “I have to go. I will be back for you.”

  So controlled. She wondered if he might explode if she reached out and touched him. Fighting the strong desire to do just that, she stood also. “No. I can find my own way back when we are through. Toutou can take me. I’ll call and make sure Marshall can pick me up at the dock.”

  “Wait for me.”

  “Teague—”

  He circled the table, stopping directly in front of her. “I can’t be here Sunday.” She saw regret and a great deal of strain. “I would if—”

  “This isn’t your responsibility, Teague. Yes, I’m disappointed. But I have her attention for the afternoon, which is more than I’d hoped when I came here today. There will be other invitations.” I hope. Something about Belisaire’s tone had been so … final.

  He held her gaze for another moment. “You’ll wait?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and started for the door. Erin followed, studying his back as he moved through the house and onto the front porch. What burden was he shouldering? She had no doubt it was a great one.

  Without questioning her motives, or her own needs, she caught up to him, slipping her hand in his. His palm was warm, his skin a bit rough. She felt his tension, wanted badly to absorb some of it, relieve him of whatever it was he carried.

  They walked across the clearing in silence. Then he slowly tightened his fingers until he gripped her hand hard. Erin felt a sudden burning behind her eyes. He needed to take. She needed to give. Why was that such a hard thing?

  She halted, the sudden action half turning him to her.

  “Teague.” Her voice was a whispered plea. For what, she couldn’t put into words. She wove her fingers into his hair, pulling his head down to hers.

  His eyes stayed on hers, but he didn’t resist. The instant her mouth closed on his, he groaned low and long. His stance relaxed and he turned to her completely, pulling her into his arms.

  The kiss was slow, deep. And open to the soul. She felt bare, exposed, yet she pulled him closer. He took her mouth, took her need. But when she was drained to the point of trembling, the balance shifted. And slowly, so slowly it made her throat tighten at the tenderness of it, he gave himself over to her until he too was trembling.

  Her breathing was deep and uneven as his mouth slid from hers. She tilted her head back when he trailed his lips across her jaw to just below her ear. He folded her more deeply into his arms. She both felt and heard his sigh when she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly.

  They stood that
way for some time.

  He pressed a gentle kiss on the pulse point below her ear. “I will disappoint you again, Erin.” His voice was a soft rasp against her neck. “I won’t want to, ange. But I will. And for that I apologize now.”

  Erin pressed her forehead into his shoulder, his words making her shiver. “Just do what you have to do, Teague. I will too. We’ll deal with the rest as it happens.” She slowly eased out of his arms. “You’d better go.”

  “Walk me to the boathouse?”

  She nodded.

  His hand sliding in hers as they cut down the path was easy and natural. Erin marveled at how such simple contact could be so intimate, so … binding.

  “How did you get here?” he asked as they neared the pier. His bateau bobbed silently at the end.

  “Marshall brought me.”

  Teague’s eyebrows rose. “Marsh?”

  “He drove me to the dock at Bayou Bruneaux. Belisaire sent Toutou to guide us in by boat. I’d interviewed him before, so I felt okay about it.”

  “Marshall came here?”

  Erin frowned. “Is that a problem? He didn’t want me to go alone. I thought you’d want him to stay with me anyway, so I didn’t argue.”

  “Since when have you worried about what I want you to do?” he asked dryly.

  She smiled briefly, then said, “I promised, Teague.”

  “Did he speak with Belisaire?”

  She shook her head. “He saw me to the boathouse. I knew my way from there. I was coming from there when I heard you and Belisaire.”

  Teague said nothing.

  “Is it so unusual? Marsh coming down here? Didn’t he come down here as a child?”

  “Never. Marshall had nothing to do with my life here.”

  Erin frowned. “Maybe he’s trying to be part of your life now, Teague.” She flinched an instant after he did.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to say painful things, but I don’t understand—”

  Teague turned and untied the boat. Erin’s shoulders slumped. She’d wanted so badly to help, but she only seemed to make things worse.

  “I’ll be back in three hours,” he said, busy with the boat, not looking at her.

  “I’ll be here.”

  He stood abruptly and turned to her. “Wait at the hounfour.”

  “Okay,” she said automatically, not wanting there to be any further tension between them. “I promise.”

  His eyes were suddenly so bleak, she couldn’t resist reaching up and smoothing the taut skin around his mouth.

  “I wish I could help. Whatever it is.”

  He stood still, allowing her to stroke his skin. “You do help,” he said roughly.

  “If I understood …”

  “You’d run hard and fast, chèr. Trust me.” He pressed a heartbreakingly gentle kiss on her fingertips, then tugged her hand away. “You don’t want to know any more about me. Just do your job here, chèr. I’ll do my best to see that you’re left alone to do it.”

  “That’s just it, Teague. I do want to know more about you. Good, bad, I don’t care. It’s all part of what you are. Who you are.” Her voice dropped. “I want to know you.”

  He jerked his gaze away, uttering a curse under his breath. He looked back at her, then pulled her head to his, kissing her hard, until neither of them could breathe. Still holding her head between his hands, he looked into her eyes, his breath sharp and uneven.

  “That’s what scares me most, ange. I want you to know me. And I’m scared to death once you do, you’ll walk out of my life forever.”

  TEN

  Teague pulled the bateau to the dock and quickly tied it off. Three hours. It felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d bared his soul to Erin, then slipped into his boat and left her standing there, her fingers pressed to her soft lips.

  It had taken everything in him to leave. He should have arranged an escort back to the hounfour, but he’d been so close to the brink, so close to saying things he shouldn’t, doing things he couldn’t …

  Swearing none too softly, he pulled himself onto the dock and made his way up the path. He hadn’t been able to find out any more about the gris-gris, and he was only halfway through clearing his desk at the Eight Ball and getting orders put in when he’d heard from Skeeter. The deal was set for Sunday night. In Bayou Bruneaux. The logistics of pulling this off right in the middle of one of Belisaire’s rituals was a migraine waiting to happen.

  Arnaud would be there along with the Haitian contacts Teague had been working on for the last eighteen months. But Skeeter had uncovered a tidbit of information that had just raised the stakes tenfold for everyone involved.

  Arnaud’s boss, the man he acted as buyer for. The man that no one, not Teague, not his superiors, had been able to trace. They didn’t have so much as a name or a description. Just the knowledge that he was headquartered in the area. And now it looked as if he might show. The buy down on this deal was apparently too important to trust to a second in command.

  If they could nail him …

  He’d have Haitian and U.S. authorities nailing the suppliers offshore while he and Skeet and their team nailed the agents and the mainland buyer and supplier to points all over the States. A major drug channel into the bayou and the entire country would be shut down.

  His bayou. He’d gotten on to this case when they tracked the buyer to Louisiana. When the location hit too close to home, he’d asked to be assigned directly to the case as the middleman. Coming home had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. But Belisaire refused to understand there was danger she couldn’t control or contain.

  She’d accepted his return with surprisingly few questions, which made Teague suspect she knew more about his true role there than she’d ever let on. All he wanted to do was bring this deal off, make sure she wasn’t caught in the net, and slip away again.

  But he’d gotten caught in a net he hadn’t seen.

  Erin McClure.

  Sunday night was taking on nightmarish qualities for him. Thank God, at least, she wouldn’t be in the bayou that night, since he couldn’t accompany her. But try as he might to get his head in the cold, unbiased mode necessary to pull off an operation of this magnitude, he couldn’t shake that moment on the dock when she said she wanted to know the man he was.

  God, he’d never wanted so badly to be that man. The right man.

  But one way or another, his role here would end Sunday. And along with it, his role in Erin’s life.

  To take any more from her now, no matter how desperately he craved it, would be unfair to her. And, no matter how much he’d like to believe otherwise, to him as well.

  Erin was waiting for him on the front porch. Just looking at her made his chest ache. Definitely time to back off.

  She grinned when she saw him and hopped down the steps. More time, he thought, I need more time to steel myself against what she does to me.

  But there was no more time. She was here, in front of him.

  “You’ll never believe how great this afternoon turned out to be.”

  “Tell me about it while we walk to the dock.” If his overly abrupt tone bothered her, she didn’t let on. She fairly skipped beside him. He’d never seen her so wired.

  God, he wanted to touch her. Taste her. Absorb some of that positive vigueur into himself. Infuse his empty soul with her spirit.

  “Belisaire let me take samples. Samples, Teague! Do you know what this means?” Her breath was shallow and rapid and he knew if he touched her pulse right now it would be jack rabbit fast.

  He curled his fingers into his palms. “I can imagine.”

  “I have to get back to the lab. Can you take me there? Or I can call Marshall. Or take a cab.” Her words tumbled out in a rush. She turned in front of him, walking backward as she talked. “This is more than I’d hoped for. I’ll get the second grant for sure.”

  “Sounds like you’ll be busy in the lab for a while. Just make sure Marshall or I know where you are at all times.”

/>   Even his autocratic demand didn’t dampen her high spirits. “No problem. I’ll be working, eating, and sleeping at the lab for at least a week. Probably longer.” She twirled away and moved on down the path. “God, I wish Mac was here.”

  “Mac?” he asked, then scowled at the slip.

  She slowed and let him catch up. “My father.”

  “He’d be proud, I’m sure.”

  Erin snorted. “Pride has nothing to do with this. He wouldn’t care who or how it was done, just that it had and he could be part of it. Which is exactly how I am. Oh, to see his face in the lab.” She patted her bulging backpack. “To work with him on this.”

  Teague slipped his hand in hers. He had to touch her. Be touched by her. “Sounds like you have a lot of respect for him. I imagine he would think the same of you as well.”

  Eyes shining, she leaned up and bussed him loudly on the cheek. “If he thought about it, maybe.” She laughed. “He was always more involved with specimens and research than something as fleeting and insubstantial as people’s emotions and feelings. But I understood that. He was an amazing scientist. His ability to focus and let his incredible brain spin out on multiple tangents. He never forgot anything. Incredible man.”

  “Yes, he must have been,” Teague said quietly, thinking that the man’s greatest accomplishment was standing before him, totally unaware of how special and rare she was. Totally unaware of just how intensely aware he was of that fact.

  “I guess this makes up for Sunday.” He groped for conversation, anything to keep him from pulling her into his arms and never letting her go.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you?”

  Frowning, he pulled her to a halt. “Tell me what?”

  “Belisaire granted me permission to attend.”

  “She what? No, Erin.”

  His sharp words managed to penetrate her euphoria. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I don’t want you here on Sunday.” In fact, if he could have her out of the state, he’d feel much better.

  “Well, you really don’t have much to say about this, Teague.”

  “Erin, we still have no idea who is threatening you. Stepping into the middle of a ritual, especially a private one …” A stubborn frown settled on her face and he bit off an oath. “They are generally wild and can easily get out of control. Even Belisaire understands that, which is why I can’t believe she’d okay this.”