"Hate you? If he hated you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"We shouldn't be having this conversation, anyway. He has the hots for you, not me." April grabbed a paper towel to deal with the mess she made. "Look, Daniel and I . .
. ."
For some reason, she couldn't finish the thought. Daniel and I—what?
"Yeah, I know about Daniel and you. Tough to miss. But it doesn't mean Glennon's all right with it. I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't care for the dumb ass, but you're the shiny new toy and I don't do seconds." Abigail pushed her chair away from the table, then returned the lemonade jug to the fridge.
It took a moment before Abigail's meaning became clear. "There's nothing between Glennon and me," April said."You're not second anything, trust me. There's nothing I have that he wants."
The cat meowed at the back door. April let her in, watched as she made her way directly to the far end of the kitchen, where ceramic salad bowls served as small food and water dishes.
"Hi, Callie Cat." April had asked Abigail to pick up cat kibbles on her way to the lodge; she took up the offer, as well, of a cat crate that Abigail kept handy for moving small varmints when the need arose.
"How do you think the cat got here, anyway? This place is in the middle of nowhere, without neighbors. Sort of Where the Wild Things Are territory. Not the place for a housecat. With a collar."
Abigail shrugged. "Vacationers. This is the time of the year, the season for drop-offs. People bring their pets on vacation. Sometimes they dump them on purpose before they go home, sometimes the pets get lost. Usually foxes or coyotes get them, especially cats."
Finished with breakfast, the cat sauntered over, tail held high, moving with the disdain only a cat could manage. She leveled a baleful stare at Abigail.
"Watch your attitude, Mouse Breath, or you'll be back to bein' homeless."
The cat jumped onto April's lap with a so there attitude.
Scritching the creature between her ears, April shook her head. "That's criminal.
If it's not criminal, it should be. Well, she has a home now."
"Oh yeah, it should be a hoot when Adam and Lucian get back."
* * * * *
When dinner was over, Daniel, Abigail, and Glennon took their coffee in the great room. April begged off, said she had no interest in the current topic of conversation regardless of what it was. She excused herself, and turned in early.
After Glennon landed in the trauma center, April began sleeping in Daniel's room, every night. It felt natural to both of them, and they saw no reason to alter their arrangement when Glennon and Abigail came back to the lodge.
April was asleep by the time Daniel reached his room. He quietly got ready for bed, then slid next to her. All he heard was her soft mmm when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his body, the perfect spoon position.
Daniel wasn't exactly sure when his life had made such a sudden turn in this direction, but he liked it. He liked it a great deal.
In his formative years, Daniel never suffered from a lack of female companionship. Darkly handsome even as a youngster, he—or rather, his sparkling gray eyes—seemed to mesmerize the female population, from grade school on through college. He liked women, and he enjoyed them. He was a considerate lover, always fulfilling his partners' sexual desires—within reason. However, he'd never been a romantic. Although he exuded that tantalizing bad boy persona that caused even sedate women to swoon, he kept his hell raising under control, until he'd earned his way into the elite ranks of the Rangers.
In Daniel's experience, he usually lasted through only a couple of dates, three on the outside, before the woman involved became possessive, and assumed they would, of course, be exclusive. He had no burning desire for an exclusive relationship.
Daniel's parents had a solid, loving relationship based on mutual respect and loyalty. He knew he wanted what they had, somewhere down the line, but he hadn't been ready to settle down to a more sedentary life. While he was in the Rangers, he refused to commit to a relationship when he could die at any moment. The way he saw it, his life choices were his alone. He didn't expect anyone else to suffer from the risks he lived with on a daily basis.
But April—April Hall was different. She made him feel things he'd never felt before, brought emotions to the surface that surprised him. When he first saw her at Martone's, he was totally taken by her genuineness, her kindness to those around her.
And even though she didn't act like a mobster's trashy, flashy, woman—hell, she didn't even know her fiancé was a mobster, at first—she was the most sensual creature Daniel had ever met. He'd known he was right the first time she came to his bed.
Still deeply asleep, April nestled her bottom more tightly against Daniel's groin, folded both arms around one of his forearms, and sighed contentedly.
Damn, I'll never get tired of this. He buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair, ignored his half-hard cock, and drifted off to sleep—to dreams of dark-haired children running through Scottish heather.
Chapter Sixteen
Friday
Dark thunderclouds, hanging low and heavy with moisture, had moved in. The glass-paneled front wall of the great room allowed the magnificent summer views to light up the lodge, so the threatening storm seemed equally up close and personal to April. Too heavy to stay airborne, fat raindrops finally landed on the stones of the walkway, soon joined by others. Many others. It made for a lazy day, a gray day, a good day to catch up on reading, drinking coffee, sipping tea, working at various computers.
April had finished another firearms training session with Daniel after dinner, then a sweaty session on the mats with Abigail. Afterward, she'd showered, left them to their practice. Now they were upstairs, doing their own shower things, and Glennon was in the com center.
Glennon. She knew she needed to face him. I just can't do it. I can't deal with him right now. " I can't," she said, to the empty room.
April had been in middle school. One of her mom's favorite dairy goats, a pretty, little, black and white doe, had delivered twin kids. One was robust, nursed vigorously. The other hadn't fared so well. April begged to bottle feed the tiny kid. Her mom finally relented. "This baby is your responsibility, now."
Try as she might, April could not get the kid to suckle from the bottle. She brought the tiny failing creature into the kitchen, placed it on a folded blanket, tried again. Her mother came into the room. "Honey, that little one needs nourishment, or it's going to die very soon."
April made as if to fling the glass nursing bottle across the room. "I can't do it. I tried and tried, and I just can't do it. Stupid baby."
Usually a reasonable and gentle person, April's mom lifted her daughter by her shirt collar and stood her on her feet. "You can't? You can't! What you really mean is you won't.
What you really mean is that it's too much trouble for you, when you'd rather be outdoors playing with your friends. That little baby is depending on you for its very life. You promised to do your best. Look into your heart—have you really done your very best? If you believe you have, then stand back and let the baby die."
April, horrified at her mother's words, stared at the small limp animal.
"Now, young lady, you sit on the floor, take that baby in your arms while it still has breath in its body, and coax it until it takes that bottle. Be gentle. Be patient. And don't ever say the words 'I can't' again." Her mother stroked April's unruly hair. "You can."
April could, and she did. The kid lived and flourished, next to its twin.
April heard the soft electric whine of the elevator, forced herself out of her memories. Forced herself to turn away from the rain. Forced herself to face the situation.
Well, I suppose it's now or never. April couldn't avoid Glennon forever. The longer she waited, the worse the anticipation of a confrontation. After Glennon emerged from the elevator, she trapped him in a corner of the great room. The heavy, awkward cast acted like a boat anchor an
d prevented him from escaping. The crutch wasn't very helpful. His left arm was still strapped tightly to his torso, which added insult to injury.
In the most literal sense.
"Glennon."
"April, wait. I need to say something."
"Me first, fella, before I lose my nerve." She held up her palm to stop him when his mouth opened." I guess I owe you an apology for flipping out and running off like I did. It was stupid and dangerous. Righteous indignation is one of my worst character flaws. My mom swears I get so totally caught up in an overwhelming sense of righteous indignation that I wouldn't see a locomotive's headlight beam if I was standing smack dab in the middle of the train tracks and the light was focused in the center of my forehead. I've been known to, well, overreact." Wow, that was sorta overkill, maybe. I'm not really that bad—am I?
He looked away at first, then finally faced her. "Look, Abigail really beat me up over this. Apparently, I'm a real dickhead. Handled the situation badly. I guess Abby was right. Wasn't your fault. There was no way for you to know there was history. You didn't do anything wrong."
It took a bit of maneuvering to lay the crutch against a chair, then gather her to him with his one good arm. "We'll never know how it might have turned out between us, but I guess we can live with that."
His arm still wrapped around her shoulders, he kissed her forehead. Like a brother, not a lover. "Friends?"
Still tucked against the uninjured part of his body, she returned his kiss in like fashion, a sisterly peck on his cheek. "Friends."
* * * * *
Daniel stormed down to the great room from the gallery level. His boots hit the stairs with such force that the couple flew apart.
"Daniel, hi, Glennon and I . . . ."
"I saw Glennon and you." He roared past them. "I can see you and Garrett very clearly. Bloody stupid sonofabitch I am, isn't that right? Was it all worth a good giggle?"
" What? Daniel, no, wait, hang on—" April grabbed for his arm, missed.
With a horrific crack, lightning struck close enough to illuminate the great room with a dazzling flash. The perimeter alarm in the kitchen shrieked almost immediately, echoed barely a second later by an alert in the com center.
Daniel didn't hesitate. He automatically checked the Sig in his shoulder holster, made sure it had a full clip.
"I'm outta here." He slammed out through the kitchen door, headed into the storm.
"No! Daniel, wait!" April teetered on the edge of a scream, but it wasn't enough to stop him.
Wrapped in a fluffy gold bath sheet with a smaller towel around her hair, Abigail leaned over the balcony. "What's all the fuss, folks? And what's with the alarms?"
Hampered by cast, crutch, and the use of only one arm, Glennon turned away from April and headed to the lift, yelling at the alarm. "Hold your horses, I'm getting there, I'm getting there. Damn this leg!"
He nearly fell into the wheelchair waiting for him at the gallery level.
"Well, if you hadn't been such a butt-head—"
"O'Connell, this is so not the freakin' time to bust my balls." Glennon wheeled into the com center, shouted down to April. "It looks like there's a breach in the tree line directly behind the last cabin. Someone needs to tell—"
April moved immediately. "I'm on my way." She sprinted to the kitchen door—
and crashed into a rain-soaked Daniel, who barreled back indoors.
He grabbed her arm with an iron fist to keep her upright, then quickly released his grip. He hurried into the great room, called up to Glennon.
"Fire at the first cabin, possible lightning strike. I don't know what tripped the perimeter sensors. Could be broken tree limbs. The wind is howling, sounds like branches are crashing down everywhere. The rain should prevent the fire from spreading to the other buildings, but it's burning awfully hot, and the strong wind can be a factor. Garrett, check the perimeter sensors for more breaks, advise MacBride of the situation. Abigail, get dressed and help Garrett if we need to evacuate."
April came up behind him. "Daniel, wait a damned minute—"
He gave her a rough shake. "You. Move Garrett's truck out of the garage in case we need to vacate the premises in a hurry."
Glennon shouted over his shoulder as he wheeled back to the com center.
"Wyndsor, there are fire extinguishers in every building, inside each door. Two industrial-sized units in the front of the equipment shed. They hang on the wall inside the main door."
"Daniel, hang on . . . ." April absently rubbed at the impressions his fingers left on her arm.
He grabbed for a rain slicker from the pegs by the back door, missed, cursed, left the slicker on the floor where it landed. He didn't look back as he stormed out of the lodge.
Abigail must have pulled on her clothes in the space of a few heartbeats, then hurried from bedroom to bedroom. In no time, duffle bags flew over the gallery railing and landing on the floor below. "Extra clothes and stuff. April, throw these in the back of the truck, just in case. There are sleeping bags stowed in the garage, the steel cabinets on the left. If we need to go into town, power may be out there. You'll need to grab snacks and drinks, too."
She disappeared into the com center, then popped out again. "It'll be easier to follow the blaze if the lights are out. There are flashlights in the butler's pantry. Grab a couple, then keep checking on the fire from the windows. Oh, don't forget the cat crate.
You might want to catch the cat and lock her up now, just in case. I'll drag Glennon out of the lodge if we need to hop in a hurry."
A voice shouted out from the com room. "I don't need to be dragged anywhere."
"Yeah, right, you're as graceful as a flying penguin, Garrett."
"Penguins don't fly."
"Exactly my point, Grace."
April's gut churned. What the hell happened? I didn't deserve that. Shit, no time now.
Leaving the cat for the moment, she grabbed a heavy industrial flashlight, then hurried into the garage through the indoor entrance. Once she backed out the Navigator, she parked it to face away from the lodge, for a quick departure. She hurried back through the lodge, clicked the light switches off on her way to the kitchen.
* * * * *
Furious, Daniel hadn't even felt the cold rain. Bloody hell, how could I be so stupid?
He loved her, no doubt he loved her. He'd rushed to tell her, not wanting to wait a single heartbeat longer than necessary. He had a crystal clear plan of attack: he'd ask April to marry him, to be his wife. Then, she'd meet his parents. Finally, they'd fly to Scotland so he could present his lady to Granda Faolan . . . . The vision shattered at the sight of his woman in the arms of another, in the embrace of the man she must have loved first. Fuck, I'm the rebound guy? Or maybe I'm the guy she used to make her man jealous? Looks like it bloody well worked. He's back.
Scenes with April replayed in his mind. Moments of incredible lust. Mind-altering sex. Heart-melting tenderness. Trust. Loyalty. Loyalty! She totally ignited his feelings of protectiveness, of possessiveness—in the best possible way.
The consummate actress, and I bloody well missed it. That fuck-all bullshit, making me believe she didn't know her way around the bloody bedroom. Stupid, letting my cock and balls make decisions like an inexperienced youth who doesn't know any better. Couldn't see the sodding lies staring me in the face. Another thought fueled his personal fire. If she wasn't having sex, why was she already on the pill? Why full-time birth control? For Glennon, that's why.
The pounding of his heart, the ache in his chest, had little to do with the weight of the heavy fire extinguisher in his arms. Nothing to do with the righteous rush of adrenaline that shot through his bloodstream as he kept the flames at bay. He worked with the mindless efficiency of an automaton, until the blaze choked to death under the heavy swathe of foam he laid down.
Relentless rain beat the acrid odor of smoke to the ground. The fire out, Daniel stood in the dark, drenched, uncaring. Raindrops continued to course, unn
oticed, down his face.
His heart fractured, shattered like a broken mirror . Why do I still love her?
* * * * *
April laid the heavy flashlight on the counter, pointed the wide beam at the cupboards. An unopened box of protein bars was at her fingertips when she heard the kitchen door open behind her.
"Daniel, thank goodness. We need to—" Before she could turn, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth from behind, wet wool pressing against her from a soaked pea coat. Damn it, not again. Isn't there a better way to get my freakin' attention?
The grip was painfully tight and the harsh odor of gasoline gagged her. Hold the flippin' phone—it's not Daniel!
The man suddenly tensed, his heavily accented voice snarled in her ear. "Daniel?
Daniel Wenzoor? Ahh, the big man himself helped you to escape. Now we know the truth, how you get so far away."
He huffed a brief, coarse laugh. "My benefactor will pay to me a very handsome bonus for your Daniel Wenzoor's head on a stake. Your Daniel can no longer help you.
Give me Angelo's files, and I might let you live."
He had a death grip on her right elbow. Her left arm was trapped against the counter by her own body and his pressing weight.
Oh hell, it's not even Bobby Black Crow!
Angelo found me. For fuck sake, the bastard really found me. Her brain froze, her muscles locked. Fear jacked up her heart rate. What did he mean about Daniel? Is Daniel already dead?
The man rubbed his heavy bristly jowl against her cheek, voice too close, his tone too intimate. " Aprile, cosi abbastanza, such a pretty name for a pretty little girl. So small, la mia bambina, like a China doll. Hmm, yes, I might let you live. But maybe we play a game first."
His thick lips pulled at her earlobe; she fought the urge to gag. "Angelo tells me you are quick, that you enjoy to run—perhaps if you are quick enough, clever enough, you can escape the hunter. Do you think you are able to escape me, clever girl?"
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