by Tawna Fenske
“Christ!” he said through gritted teeth as Kelli bucked and cried out, the spasms of her orgasm propelling him through his own. Wave after wave of sensation washed over him, and he closed his eyes and gave in to it.
She collapsed on his chest, her breath warm against his neck. He felt her swallow as she tried to rise up, but she seemed boneless on top of him. He smiled.
“Who won that round?” he murmured.
“Let’s call it a tie.”
“Speaking of ties, how about you unlock me?” He rattled the cuffs.
“In a minute. I can’t feel my arms. Or my legs.”
He grinned. “As long as you have feeling elsewhere, my work here is done.”
She sat up then, smiling, and shook her head. “Seriously, Mac—that was fucking incredible. Anyone tell you your aim is impeccable?”
He started to respond, but she clamped a hand over his mouth and laughed. “Never mind. Of course they have. You seriously must have a G-spot magnet in that thing.”
She rolled off him then and reached into the nightstand again. Extracting a key from the top drawer, she gave a sigh of pleasure before turning back to him and unlocking the cuffs. She kissed him then with surprising softness, and Mac breathed in the scent of her hair across his face.
“There you go,” she murmured. “You’re free.”
She lay back down beside him, snuggling against him so her head rested on his chest and her curls spilled over his shoulder. He moved his arm around her, pulling her closer to absorb all her warmth and softness.
He lay there for a moment thinking of something to say. Pillow talk wasn’t his forte, especially with a fake fiancée he’d vowed not to get attached to.
He was still trying to come up with some witty repartee when he felt her body slowly go slack in his arms. He looked down at her, amazed to discover she’d fallen asleep. Careful not to disturb her, he reached down and pulled the covers up over them. He looked at her again, so sweet and peaceful in her slumber. He ran his hand over her hair, in awe of the softness of those fragrant curls.
You’re free.
Her words echoed in his head, and Mac closed his eyes, willing them to be true.
…
In her dream, Kelli was running topless on a beach.
It wasn’t a terribly X-rated scene, since she was five years old.
“Slow down there, Kelli-belly,” her mom called from her perch on a gnarled piece of driftwood. Kelli turned to see her mother take a slow drag on her cigarette, the corners of her mouth turning up in a sad little smile as she blew the smoke into the wind.
Kelli turned back and ran toward her mom with bits of blowing sand stinging her cheeks. The sea air was salty and damp and clung to her skin like a spiderweb. “Where’s Daddy?” she panted, plopping down in the sand at her mother’s feet. “He said he’d come to the beach with us today, didn’t he?”
Her mom said nothing at first as she took another drag on her cigarette. She looked off in the distance, and Kelli followed her gaze, hoping to catch a glimpse of her father.
There was no one there.
“Can’t count on a man for anything,” Kelli’s mom said. Her voice was so low, she sounded like another person.
Startled, Kelli looked up at her. “Mama?”
Her mother just shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the horizon. “You best learn that early. Men can be amusing, and they’re handy as hell for opening jars and fixing cars and giving you a good fu—uh, fun time. But take it from me, baby girl. Don’t get attached.”
Kelli frowned up at her mom, not sure she understood. Her daddy was the best man she knew, full of cuddles and scratchy kisses and pockets full of peppermint candies. He was always around, or at least most of the time. Maybe not after Mama got mad and yelled at him to get out, but he always came back, didn’t he?
“No! Goddamn it, stop! Jillian!”
In her dream, Kelli frowned. Jillian?
“Jillian! No!”
The fog of sleep fell away, and Kelli opened her eyes and blinked in the darkness. The beach was gone, and so were her childhood pigtails and the smell of salty air. She was lying in bed beside a shirtless man with dark hair, killer abs, and a sleep-slack face creased in fury.
Mac’s fist balled in the sheet beside her head. “Jillian—don’t leave! Not with him, please!”
Kelli touched his arm, unsure what to do. She’d never slept with a man who had nightmares before. Hell, she seldom slept with a man, period, at least not the sort of sleeping that involved unconsciousness.
“Mac?” She propped herself up on her elbow and slid her hand to his chest. She touched him lightly, careful not to make any sudden moves. “Mac, you’re having a bad dream.”
His eyes snapped open, and he blinked at her with a steely look. Kelli jerked her hand back, shivering as she pulled the covers tighter around her breasts.
“You were having a dream,” she whispered. “About someone named Jillian?”
“Jillian,” he repeated, his voice cracking a little. He blinked again, as the light moved back into his eyes. “A dream.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I mean, I understand.”
His brows creased. “You do?”
She wasn’t entirely sure she did, but she nodded anyway. “Sure. You’ve had plenty of women in your life and I’ve had plenty of men in my life. We’re bound to dream about others from time to time.”
“Right.” Mac sat up, his gaze still hard and unreadable. He looked at her a moment, then turned away. “I should get going.”
“Going?” Kelli glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s four a.m. It’s still dark.”
“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” he said, sliding out of bed. She shivered as his warmth went with him.
He fumbled in the darkness for his shirt, not meeting her eyes as he tugged on his pants. “I’ll be down in the office for a little while, but I’ll be out in the field for most of the day. I trust you have plenty to keep you busy.”
His tone was all business, and Kelli tried not to let it sting. “Of course. We’re starting the first round of spaying and neutering today, but Mac—”
“Talk to my mother if you need an extra set of hands,” he said. “She doesn’t have veterinary experience, but she had some field-nurse training years ago. She’d be happy to volunteer. Hank will drive you both and keep an eye on things.”
He finished buttoning his shirt and turned to look at her. His gaze flicked to the handcuffs still lying on the dresser, then to the rumpled sheets. When his eyes met hers again, they’d softened just a little.
“Thank you, Kelli.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again, unsure what to say. The temperature in the room had dropped at least ten degrees. She drew her knees up under her, holding the sheet tight around her breasts. It wasn’t like this was the first time a man had left suddenly after sex. Hell, usually she was the one running.
Running away so they don’t leave you first.
Kelli swallowed and forced a smile. “Have a good day,” she said at last, infusing her voice with a chipper note that fell flat.
He nodded once, seeming to hesitate. Then he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. She stared at it a moment, then lay back down on the bed and blinked at the ceiling. She slid her hand over to the warm spot where his body had been.
What the hell was that all about?
Chapter Eleven
Kelli couldn’t fall back asleep, and by six, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She picked up her phone and dialed.
The call had barely connected when her words rushed out in a jumble. “Sheri? I’m so sorry, I know it’s still the middle of the night in Hawaii, but I had to call you and ask about—”
“Kelli? Is that you? Hang on a sec, I think we have a bad connection.”
Kelli bit her lip and waited, feeling stupid. She shouldn’t have called. It was no big deal, really, if Mac was dreaming about some old girlfriend wh
o’d left him. Jesus, she knew he wasn’t a monk, and what business was it of hers if he wanted to dream about orgies with a dozen women from his past? She should just apologize and hang up, tell Sheri the whole thing was an accident and—
“There, that’s better,” Sheri said. “Sorry, my reception isn’t so hot on the other end of the house. The boys have a cold, so I was up anyway suctioning snot and messing with the humidifier. What’s going on, Kel? Is everything okay?”
“Who’s Jillian?” she blurted. “Shit, I mean sorry about the boys being sick and the snot and everything, but—”
“Jillian?”
“Yes, Jillian. Someone Mac used to date, maybe?”
“That doesn’t ring a bell. I haven’t known many of my brother’s girlfriends, though. Why? Did he do something stupid?”
“No, not stupid.” Kelli sank back on the bed, resting her forearm over her eyes to block out the morning light and the stupid glare of her own insecurities. “Just weird. Or maybe I’m the one being weird.”
“Not the first time. So what’s the problem?”
“He said her name in his sleep,” Kelli said. “Or shouted it, really.”
“Wait, what?” Sheri hooted with laughter. “We’ll come back to the girlfriend thing in a minute—you’re sleeping with my brother?”
“Oh, please. Did you really think I’d hold out more than forty-eight hours?”
“Of course not. You’d have shagged him in the jetway at the airport if you had the chance, but I thought Mac might hold out longer than that.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know—some stupid hang-up about his kid sister’s best friend, or maybe because he’d feel too wrapped up in protecting you to want to compromise things by having sex with you. Either way, I obviously underestimated your powers of seduction.”
“You’re forgiven,” Kelli said. “So about Jillian?”
“I’m stumped. Are you sure that’s what he said?”
“Positive.” Hell, he’d said it three times. That had to mean something, right?
“Why do you think it’s a girlfriend?” Sheri asked. “Was he talking dirty in his sleep or spanking the monkey or something? Oh God, don’t answer that—yuck, my brother.”
“There was no monkey spanking involved. Well, not then anyway. I guess I just thought—Shit, never mind. It was stupid. I guess I just wondered what sort of woman could get under the skin of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Detached-from-Humankind.”
“Jillian,” Sheri repeated as though trying to place the name. “The only Jillian I can think of is my Aunt Sarah’s daughter who died way before I was even born. Obviously, I never knew her.”
“A cousin?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I can’t imagine Mac would even remember her. He would have been five or six when she died, and our family really never talked about her.”
“Can’t be the same Jillian then,” Kelli said. “Can you think of anyone else?”
“He dated a Jenna in college. Wait, no, maybe it was Jeanine. Whatever, it wasn’t serious. None of Mac’s relationships ever were.”
“Exactly why I wanted to play hide-the-salami with him,” Kelli said, projecting a cheerful indifference she wasn’t sure she really felt.
“You sure you’re okay, Kel?”
“Of course!” Her words sounded falsely bright, even to her own ears, and she knew Sheri heard it, too. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fabulous, obviously. I got to nail your brother, which allows me to cross one major item off my bucket list. I just need to go hang gliding and learn to juggle now.”
“Okay, then.” Sheri paused, and Kelli knew her friend was waiting for her to offer more. To fill in the blanks with something juicy or jokey.
Kelli stayed quiet.
“Right, so good luck with that,” Sheri said. “The hang gliding that is. You’ll call if you need anything?”
“Absolutely. Oh, I almost forgot—your mother’s here.”
“What? Seriously?”
“She found out about the engagement somehow. I think Mac’s freaking out about it a little. He’d hoped to keep the whole thing quiet and isolated in Mexico. I’m not sure what he’s going to do now.”
“Christ, are you okay?”
“I feel lousy lying to your mom. She always had a knack for knowing when I wasn’t telling the truth. For now, she believes the whole story, so Mac’s cover isn’t blown or anything, although speaking of blowing Mac—”
“If she bought the story, you’re the one who should be worried. You know Stella Patton is perfectly capable of marching you to the altar at gunpoint, don’t you?”
Kelli winced and threaded her fingers through her hair, feeling a chunk of crusted sugar. God, was it only last night she’d been in an arms dealer’s bathtub with Mac and a giant lizard?
And on the arms dealer’s bathroom counter, legs wrapped around Mac’s hips—
“I’m hoping your mom will understand when it’s all over and we explain it was a matter of national security,” Kelli said.
“Don’t count on it. My mom would love to have you as a daughter-in-law. Don’t be surprised if she brings new meaning to the idea of a shotgun wedding.”
“The odds of a wedding actually happening are the same as the chances I’ll join a convent.”
“You’ll be the hottest nun on the block. Look, I’ve gotta run, Kel. The boys are starting to fuss again, and I don’t want them to wake Sam since he was up with them last night. You’ll call if you need anything?”
“Will do. Hugs to the babies and that big hunk of man-flesh.”
“Bye, hon.”
Kelli hung up the phone, feeling more uncertain than she had before she’d dialed Sheri’s number. Who the hell was Jillian?
More importantly, why did she care? The engagement was fake, and the sex was meaningless. She might have some temporary claim to Mac’s body at the moment, but certainly not his heart or mind or dreams. What the hell was her problem?
She climbed out of bed and went to take a shower, a little reluctant to scrub away the remnants of last night’s sex. She had to hand it to Mac, the man knew his way around a woman’s body. Even with his hands shackled, he’d made her come harder than any man ever had before. That was saying something.
She toweled off and dressed in set of pink surgical scrubs, forcing herself to turn her attention to the day’s agenda. Volunteers had been busy using live traps to collect feral cats from around the area. Today was going to be a big day of snipping and suturing, hopefully making a good-sized dent in the number of homeless cats breeding and starving and wreaking havoc on the area’s bird populations.
Trudging down the stairs to the dining area, she froze mid-step as Mac’s mother looked up from her morning paper and smiled. Stella was impeccably dressed in loose linen trousers and a matching top. Her eyes bored into Kelli the way they had when Sheri and Kelli got busted sneaking out in middle school.
She nodded at Kelli. “I trust you slept well, dear?”
Kelli felt the heat creep into her cheeks. How thin were the walls in Mac’s house, anyway?
“I—”
“Oh, please,” Stella said, shoving her newspaper aside before Kelli could stammer a response. “You can cut the blushing bride act with me. You forget I’m the one who picked you up on prom night after your date passed out from exhaustion in the backseat of his car.”
“He’d been drinking tequila,” Kelli replied, descending the stairs the rest of the way and seating herself primly on the other side of the table. “And that feather duster you found was only for cleaning the—”
“Sweetie, I don’t care. It’s none of my business now, is it? As long as MacArthur is happy and you’re part of the reason for it, I’m not one to judge. What the two of you do behind closed doors is between you. So tell me about this spay-and-neuter clinic you’re doing?”
Kelli blinked, not sure if she was more surprised by the subject change or by Stella’s sudden live-and-let-live attitud
e. Wasn’t this the same woman who’d threatened to tell her foster mom when she’d caught her playing spin-the-bottle at an eighth grade party?
“The clinic,” Kelli said, clearing her throat. “Right. Well, if you’re free, we could use an extra set of hands labeling the cages and helping keep things organized. It’s important that the cats are all returned to their original colonies, so there’s a system in place to make sure we follow protocol.”
“I’d love to help,” Stella said, standing up and folding her paper. “When can we leave?”
“I called Hank to bring the car around. He’s driving me—Mac’s orders, of course. He’s a little controlling about these things.”
“He’s worse the more he loves you.”
“He must love me a lot, then,” Kelli replied, feeling an odd twist in her gut as she said the words. She turned and picked up her medical bag off the hall table, nodding to Stella. “I think there are extra scrubs at the clinic that’ll fit you, if you like.”
“I’m always happy to be useful, honey,” Stella said, marching to the door like a woman on a mission. “When I heard Mac was getting married, I figured I’d fly down here and help pick out flowers and color schemes. Now that I know he’s marrying you, it’s a lot more fitting to spend our time lopping the nut-sacs off tomcats.”
Kelli nodded and picked up her medical bag, pushing back waves of guilt and uncertainty as she made her way to the door.
…
The morning was a long one, filled with an endless stream of mangy cats who were less than thrilled by the prospect of parting with their fuzz nuggets and lady biscuits. Kelli lost count of how many surgeries she performed, her morning and afternoon blending together in a haze of surgical clamps and feline fur.
By the time the clinic was wrapping up, the sun was already starting to sink low. Kelli did the same, sliding her back down the side of the concrete building to sit down on the curb outside the clinic.
“Here you go, dear.”
Kelli looked up to see Stella offering her an icy cola can. She nearly wept with relief as she reached up to take the soda. “Thanks. This is the first time I’ve sat down all day.”