Christmas Conspiracy

by Robin Perini

  Vulnerability shadowed the depths of his eyes. “You’re certain?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know,” she choked out with a small laugh. “Actually, I’m scared to death of screwing up. I’m not a good bet, Logan. I have way too many hang-ups. My life is in turmoil. It might be complicated forever if Leopold won’t leave us alone. The question is, knowing all that, are you willing to take a chance on me?”

  “Yes,” he said softly. “For you and my children, I would do anything. We’ll take it as slow as you want, and work things out as they come up.”

  Kat smiled to hide her nervousness. “Then I’m going to call you on your promise from downstairs. I believe that you said if I came in this room, I should not plan on leaving for a while.”

  “Yes, I remember saying something like that.”

  “Well, I’m here. Our kids are asleep and I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

  His smile gave her courage.

  She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back onto the mattress. He let her. She climbed on top of him, her hips settling on his. “I want you to show me,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss his lips, “exactly what you had in mind when you threw down that sexual gauntlet.”

  His eyes went hot with green fire. “With pleasure.”

  He slid his fingers into the hair at her nape, then tugged her down until her breasts pressed against him and her lips hovered over his. His musky scent intoxicated her and she closed her eyes, breathing in Logan.

  “I’m sorry I left,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry we wasted all that time, when we could have been together.”

  “Shhh. Concentrate on now. We’ll face reality later.”

  She pressed her mouth to his, then using her tongue and gentle nips on his lower lip, showed him she wanted more. Much more. With a groan he let her inside and the tentative kiss she’d started deepened, slowly heating with an urgency that made her shudder. Her fears melted away and primal instincts kicked in. The rush of excitement thrilled her—each touch, each sound driving her to seek deeper contact.

  How had she lived without this? Without him?

  Suddenly, he’d flipped her over, tucking her under his hard body. He took over the kiss, teasing her lips apart, exploring her.

  Love me now, she begged silently. Make me believe that we’ll be all right.

  His hands went everywhere, and she reveled in his touch.

  She slid his buttons free, then shoved his shirt aside to feel the bare skin beneath. Her hand encountered tape and a large white bandage covering part of his shoulder. She stilled under him. “What happened?”

  “Gunshot,” Logan said. “I’m fine. Just a scratch.”

  Her passion-hazed brain cleared. “When?”

  “Leaving the hotel. The bodyguard got me.”

  “You drove all the way here with an untreated bullet wound?” She lay back against the pillows. “You could have died.”

  He captured her gaze and smiled. “It’s just a little tender, Kat. It’ll be healed in a few days.”

  “You were shot because of me.”

  “Don’t ever think that. Considering what I got as a result of coming back into your life—you and the twins—that’s worth a little blood. I definitely can’t complain.”

  He nibbled at her lower lip, his hand teasing the hem of her shirt with featherlight caresses. Kat’s body melted beneath his. He kissed both eyes, both cheeks and settled on her mouth.

  Kat was lost. She couldn’t think. She could only feel. Her arms hugged him tighter and he shifted his hips against hers. His hands paused at the buttons of her jeans.

  “Any doubts?”

  “About the future, God, yes. About this? Not a one. Now hurry.”

  He grinned and slowly lowered the zipper.

  * * *

  DEKE POWELL COULDN’T BELIEVE he sat here, hiding out in the dirt between a grove of oak trees on Logan Carmichael’s ranch in “end-of-the-earth,” Texas. Powell blew on his hands to warm them up, then slipped his gloves back on, grabbed his gun and binoculars again, and scanned the bustle of activity.

  Victor’s people had told him this place should be nearly deserted, but from what he could see of the construction site, every law-enforcement officer within fifty miles was crawling over the property. How was Deke supposed to plant the explosives and get away? But that was the assignment so he’d better figure it out soon.

  He cursed Hans for getting him into this mess, not that Deke would ever be anything but subservient to the man. Hans was a psycho and he had a direct line to Victor.

  Deke wasn’t a killer, though, and he didn’t want to harm those two small children, but he couldn’t let himself think about that. He couldn’t think about anything but Maria’s horrific scream when that bastard, Victor, had cut off her finger.

  He glanced at his watch. Out of time. Somehow, he’d have to use the chaos at the construction site to his advantage. He might have to wait until dark. Deke grabbed his bag of explosives, but before he moved, a distinctive ringtone sounded in his ear. He glanced at the phone’s screen and his throat went dry.

  “Maria?” he whispered. “Are you okay, honey?”

  “Of course she’s okay,” a taunting voice rushed out. “We were just having a little fun, were we not, my dear? You’re a lucky man, Deke. She’s a sweet one.”

  Deke’s knuckles whitened as he gripped a branch from the tree. His jaw tightened. “You do anything else to hurt her—”

  “And what? You’ll kill me? You should know better than to threaten me.”

  Deke froze, praying the man wouldn’t cut off another of Maria’s fingers in retaliation. “I’m sorry.” He spat out the words from between clenched teeth.

  “That’s better,” the man said silkily. “And remember…don’t do anything stupid. I’m aware of your every move.”

  Impotent fury welled inside him, but Deke kept the challenge from his voice. “I’ll get the job done.”

  “Yes,” his boss said, as another of Maria’s screams sounded in the background. “I believe you will. We’ll talk soon.”

  Despair swept through Deke and the gun trembled in his hand. He couldn’t think about what was happening to Maria or he’d go insane. Why had he ever agreed to work with Victor? He didn’t care who sat on the throne in Bellevaux.

  Deke hung his head. He knew why he’d taken the job. It had seemed like easy money at first. When Hans had approached him, Deke had thought he could do the things they asked without a problem. They’d offered too much tax-free cash to pass up after he and Maria had been laid off. He hadn’t cared about the group’s politics or their agenda. All they’d wanted him to do was a little surveillance. A quick exchange of information in a back alley. He’d been a fool.

  One job led to another, each successively shadier, uglier, more dangerous. Until now, his complicity in the crimes against the royal court would lead to a death sentence for treason. Yet, when he’d tried to quit, he’d realized all too quickly Maria would pay the price.

  Deke only prayed the terrorists hadn’t discovered her pregnancy. She was a little over three months. A prospective birth should bring joy, not this bone-chilling fear. How had his life gone so wrong? All he could do now was plan the latest massacre the group had decreed.

  The only person who might be able to help him…well, he could never ask.

  A half hour later, heavy steps pounded behind him. Gripping his gun, Deke whirled around, ready to fire.

  Hans. The psycho scared the hell out of him. His knife sheath was bloodstained. Apparently Hans’s shoulder wound wasn’t slowing him down from his favorite pastime. The killing had begun. There was no going back.

  Hans sifted through the bag, then met Deke’s gaze with a satisfied grin. “A lot of people will die today. I like your plan.”

  “So glad, because this is a two-man job,” Deke bit out.

  “Which is why I’m here. That, and to keep you in line.” Hans ran some fine grit across the bloodi
ed surface of his knife until the blade shone clean. He sighed and held up the knife, turning it, and watched the serrated edge glinting in the sunlight. “I love this knife. It’s too bad we’re using explosives. They’re so impersonal.”

  Deke stared at the blade, certain he’d be the next one to feel the bite of its steel, if things didn’t go as planned. “It’s time to go.”

  The man smiled and ran his finger near the razor-sharp edge. “She’s already dead, you know.”

  Deke’s heart galloped. “What do you mean?”

  “Your wife.” Hans raised his head and looked at Deke with soul-dead eyes. “The minute you finish this job, Victor will kill her. He never leaves witnesses.”

  * * *

  LOGAN COULDN’T GET enough of Kat’s bare skin. He needed to touch her, to make her his. To prove to himself once and for all that she belonged to him.

  Part of him couldn’t believe she’d walked up those stairs instead of running out the door with one child under each arm. He should’ve known better. Kat didn’t run from much—except herself.

  He let his fingers explore her silky legs, too long to be real. Midday light illuminated her alabaster skin as he stroked the softness on the inside of her knee. She shifted her legs, parting them a bit, begging for another touch. His lips followed his fingertips, kissing then tasting her as he worked his way down her limbs.

  Her lavender scent intoxicated him. He could lose himself in the enthralling aroma that was only Kat. Slowly, he explored back up, past her calves to her thighs. When his hand reached the silk panties covering her, Kat moaned.

  “Logan, please. It’s too much.”

  He nipped at the lace beneath her belly button, then lifted his gaze. Her ice-blue eyes blazed with heat.

  “Should I stop?” He raised his head slightly, moving his body away from hers.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  He chuckled and left the lace, then explored the nip of her waist until he settled on the full curve of her breasts, still hidden from his gaze. He flicked open the front clasp of her bra, revealing the beauty beneath. His chest tightened. “You’re more than I remember. Sweeter, lovelier, more responsive.”

  “I’ve had two babies.” She touched a stretch mark on her belly.

  “My babies,” he said softly, and kissed the slightly whitened skin.

  He divested her of the final scraps of lace, and she lay before him. The mother of his children. A woman he wanted more than anything.

  He crawled beside her, pushing his thigh between her legs. Her eyes widened. She could feel his obvious response to her. He longed to lose himself in her, to forget the outside world, but he wanted more.

  For her.

  From her.

  He pushed the blond hair out of her eyes and drew his finger down her arm. For a moment he just looked at her. Her tongue bathed her lips and they glistened, beckoning him. He shivered.

  “Aren’t you going to make love to me?” she whispered, her voice husky.

  He traced her arm to her breasts and touched a beaded nipple. She couldn’t stop a low moan from escaping her. He arched against her. “You know I want you.”

  She returned the favor, squirming against him, and his heartbeat raced under the touch of fingertips as they teased his chest.

  He clasped her hands and held them above her head, shifting over her. He settled his hips into the cradle of hers. Her breathing turned shallow. He let her legs part. With just a push, he could enter her softness, become a part of her.

  He wanted everything.

  “Stay with me,” he said. “I want you here with me. Always.”

  “Logan, can’t we talk about this later?”

  She nipped at his chest, scraping across his hypersensitive skin with her teeth. He let out a low groan. He didn’t move, and laid his head beside hers, releasing her hands. “I can’t take someone else leaving me. Not now.”

  The moment the confession escaped his lips, he regretted revealing his vulnerability. She stilled and stroked his head before kissing his cheek and wrapping her arms and legs around him.

  “I walked up those stairs, didn’t I?”

  She tilted her hips to his. With a groan he reached into the bedside table for a foil packet and donned the protection before sliding inside of her.

  He groaned as her softness clutched and bound him to her. Slowly, he began to move. With each thrust, Kat gave back, their rhythm age old, but something more, something special. Each movement wound them tighter and tighter, merging them together into one soul, one harmony.

  He rocked against her, the ecstasy between them, Kat holding on and crying out his name as she shuddered beneath him, tiny pulses driving him to distraction.

  Unable to resist, in one last thrust, he reached completion.

  He sagged on top of her. Never before had he felt this way. He kissed Kat’s temple. She opened her baby blues, her eyes glistening with satisfaction, and more. Tenderness, hope, trust.

  He didn’t want to move away from her. His entire being dripped with contentment, and then the truth hit him with the force of a west Texas tornado.

  He was home. Kat was his home.

  * * *

  A SUDDEN WEIGHT LANDED on top of Logan, shocking him from sleep. His eyelids flew open and he managed to quell his instinctive defensive reaction in time not to harm the wriggling kid that had jumped on him. He stared at Hayden’s smiling face and laughed, before his son proceeded to climb all over him.

  “Get up, Daddy. We’s hungry.”

  Lanie looked at him curiously from the bedside. “What are you and Mommy doing?”

  Quickly, he looked down, relieved to see he’d tucked the blankets over him and Kat before they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms. This situation could still be tricky, but at least there was no necessity for a talk about the birds and the bees with overly curious two-and-a-half-year-olds. “We were sleeping.”

  Hayden piped up, “You forgot your jammies!”

  Logan grinned at his son. “So I did.”

  He grabbed Hayden as the little boy was about to pounce on Kat. “Hey, careful buddy. Mommy’s sleeping.”

  Kat lifted her head and peered at them blearily. “Not anymore.” She rolled over and tugged the covers tightly across her body. “Nap time is supposed to be for another half hour.”

  Logan forced himself to look at the kids sternly. “What are you doing up?”

  Hayden plopped down on Logan’s stomach again. “It’s too noisy outside. Nap time is all done. I want juice.”

  “And how about you, sweet girl? You hungry, too?” Kat asked Lanie, her eyes wide and solemn.

  Logan reached out and touched her nose. “What’s the matter? You look worried.”

  She bit her lip. “I found something shiny,” she said. “It’s in my pocket. Are you going to take it away again?”

  Logan’s heart raced. The last thing Lanie had found had been his mother’s locket. “I don’t know, honey. I’ll have to see what it is. Can you show me?”

  Silently, Lanie pulled a silver horseshoe from her pocket. “I like it,” she said. “It’s pretty.”

  Logan looked at the vintage Christmas ornament clutched in her chubby hand. “Where did you find it?”

  “In that box.” Lanie pointed to the shipping trunk.

  There was a small keepsake box, full of Christmas ornaments, next to the stationery kit holding his mother’s letter. It seemed to be a day for memories.

  He fingered the tattered ribbon that his mother had used to hang the horseshoe ornament on the tree. He’d locked it away after she disappeared. They’d been handed down, generation after generation, as part of the Carmichael legacy. He hadn’t wanted his father to ruin them like he’d ruined everything else. Would she be happy to know her granddaughter seemed to share that same love for her treasures?

  Hayden pushed closer, checking out the horseshoe. “Lanie likes shiny things. But she takes them without p’mission. She’s naughty.”

  Logan r
aised his brow. “I seem to remember a certain little boy going outside when he wasn’t supposed to. We’ll have to work more on that permission stuff. Okay, hotshot?”

  Logan tickled Hayden, who collapsed in a fit of giggles. Kat smiled.

  “Lanie, can I show you something?” Logan placed his palm out toward the little girl.

  She nodded, but handed her prize over very reluctantly.

  “My great-great-great-grandmother believed this land was lucky. She had this horseshoe Christmas ornament made to celebrate when her first baby was born. She believed good luck would always follow the family as long as we stayed on the ranch. That’s why I use a horseshoe as my brand.”

  Hayden frowned. “What’s a brand?”

  Okay, talking about putting a hot piece of metal on a steer’s rump might be a lot more complicated than Logan wanted to explain.

  Lanie saved him. “It’s s’posta go on a Christmas tree?”

  Logan nodded. “It certainly does.”

  “Our Christmas tree is broken.” Lanie bowed her head. “It fell down and now I can’t find it. I think it’s lost or frowed away.”

  Logan tilted his daughter’s chin up and stared into her sad eyes. “Then what do you say we find a new tree to decorate?”

  “Can the kitties help us?” Hayden asked. “I didn’t get to play with them today.”

  Logan glanced over at Kat, who tried hard not to laugh. “Yeah, sure. Maybe some of the kitties can play in a cardboard box while they watch us.”

  He could just hear Gretchen pitching a fit about barn cats in the house. He shook his head. He didn’t care. He had his family. On his ranch. Right where they were supposed to be.

  Chapter Eight

  Logan walked down the front porch stairs. He’d send a couple of men for a tree, then head over to the well. The crime-scene tape and a raised tarp still protected the area, but the crowd of law enforcement and vehicles had thinned.

  Blake came around the edge of the house and intercepted Logan on the way to the barn. “I assume things are going better since you’ve been gone for over an hour and I saw the ghost of a smile on your face a minute ago?”