Her Passionate Protector

by Laurey Bright

  He took his hand from her and rubbed it over his face, giving a short, harsh laugh. When he looked at her again his expression was rueful. "I think you've lost the mood. Pity." He stood up. "Maybe it was the Baileys talking after all. Do you want to finish it up?" He stooped, picked up both glasses and offered hers back to her.

  Sienna shook her head, torn between relief and a sharp regret. Apparently she wasn't the only one who'd lost the mood.

  He tipped his whiskey glass to his lips and downed the inch of liquid left in it. Lowering the glass, he said, "You'd better put that shirt back on. You're shivering."

  She was—not with cold but some sort of nervous reaction. She pulled the shirt over her head and said, "I'm sorry."

  He was regarding his empty glass, apparently having averted his eyes while she dressed. A bit pointless, she thought, remembering how they'd devoured her with frank, pleased appraisal when he'd pulled the garment off. "Me too," he told her. "But when I take a woman to my bed I like to be sure it's where she wants to be. What were you doing?" he asked curiously. "Setting yourself some kind of test?"

  Her gaze flew to his face. "No! I just … it just seemed a good idea at the time."

  "An idea you soon regretted."

  She lifted a shoulder. "Sort of." The fever that had temporarily swept away all doubt, all resolution and any shred of self-preservation was rapidly receding. "I got a bit carried away. You're a very attractive man." She wasn't telling him anything he didn't know, she reflected bitterly. "And last time was … good."

  That remark about taking a woman to bed, implying it was a frequent occurrence, had doused the last of her illusory hope. Belatedly she remembered all the reasons that Brodie Stanner was seriously bad news for a woman like herself. A woman who craved exclusivity, commitment, permanence in a relationship. And who knew perfectly well that she wouldn't find any of that with him.

  She'd been through all this in her teens, sorted herself out and made sensible resolutions about not giving away her heart to someone who didn't want it, or cheapening her body, wasting emotion on some trivial affair for the sake of slaking a natural instinct.

  Would she never stop falling for the wrong kind of man?

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  If Camille noticed a certain strain between Sienna and Brodie in the following days, she didn't mention it.

  On Thursday Camille was on the computer in the bedroom and Sienna was inspecting a lump of coral that had something in it she thought was a pipe. If it was clay she'd have to be very careful. The local hospital might be persuaded to X-ray it, she supposed. But perhaps it should wait for a specialist restorer.

  Brodie had returned from a visit to the shop restless, prowling around the workroom, looking out the window.

  Sienna looked up. "Is something wrong?"

  "No." Turning from the window, he said, "Remember that guy who came to the Sea-Rogue looking for a chance to invest in Treasure Salvors, said he knew Drummond?"

  "The man in the dark glasses? Fraser something."

  "I think I saw him downtown today."

  "Camille says there were lots of inquiries about investing when word got around about a possible treasure."

  "And there's a cabin cruiser in the harbor that looks like the one that was at Parakaeo the night Joe got beaten up." Brodie flexed his scarred arm as if it still irritated him, and looked at the artifacts on the table. "Maybe we shouldn't have brought this stuff here."

  Sienna put aside the coral lump. "Mr. Big, whoever he is, must realize by now that he doesn't have a hope of getting the gold. Surely he'd have made himself scarce, not followed us to Mokohina. What would be the point? Compared with what he was after, all this is peanuts."

  There was a knock on the door and Brodie went to it.

  A man's voice said, "I'm looking for Sienna Rivers."

  Sienna lifted her head and got up, starting toward the passageway as Brodie growled, "Who wants her?"

  Coming to his side, Sienna said in surprise, "Aidan—what are you doing here?"

  Relief flooded Aidan's face, which was thin and strained. "Thank … heaven," he muttered. He cast a quick glance behind him. "I was worried about you."

  That was why he'd come all this way? Wary of his motives—she couldn't help being touched by his concern. "I'm fine," she said. "How are you?" He looked unwell. She felt a pang of pity. It seemed things had not improved for him.

  Brodie asked her, "Friend of yours?"

  "My head of department at Rusden."

  "Oh, yeah." He sent an unfriendly gaze to the other man. "What do you want?"

  "I'd like to talk to Sienna," Aidan said. "Privately."

  "Of course," she said as Brodie barked, "Why?"

  Sienna sent him a chilly glance and reached forward to take Aidan's arm. "Come into my workroom." She didn't want to take him to the bedroom she shared with Camille, and nowhere else was private.

  So it was Brodie's house she was inviting the other man into, but he didn't need to be so rude and unwelcoming.

  "Sienna!" he said peremptorily as she opened the workroom door. "Is that wise?"

  "Aidan allowed me to use the university lab for PTS. I don't see any point in hiding things from him now."

  She opened the door and let Aidan in, closing it behind her.

  "You found the treasure?" he said, walking over to the table.

  "The real treasure isn't here. All the valuable stuff is stored in Auckland."

  He swung round. "Where in Auckland?"

  "A bank, and some at the museum."

  He looked at her containers of water and diluted acid, the opened crate, a couple of smaller boxes beside it, the few things on the table. "So what do you have here?"

  "Minor jewelry pieces, buttons, some everyday articles."

  "I'd be interested to see them." His eyes burned with some intense emotion, making her uneasy. "May I?"

  "I'm not sure—"

  "Please!" The weak smile that followed hardly lessened the impression of urgency.

  "Aidan," she said, "what's wrong?"

  He flushed. "Nothing. I hadn't heard from you, couldn't get hold of you—not even on your cell phone."

  It hadn't been any use at sea, and she'd had no reason since returning to switch it on, using Brodie's landline to talk to her mother and chat with a couple of friends. "Why did you want to get hold of me?"

  "I was worried—there've been rumors. I warned you not to mix with treasure hunters. You must know, Sienna, I … I feel some concern for you."

  She supposed word of the attack on the Sea-Rogue had leaked out. Perhaps the divers had talked about their latest adventure.

  "Well, now that I'm here," he said, "are you going to show me what you've got? I might not have approved of what you were doing but I confess I'm curious."

  What harm could it do? And he might have some useful advice. They went through all the pieces she had and when she asked his opinion on the best method of tackling cleaning and restoration he gave it almost absentmindedly.

  "Is that all?" he asked, fingering one of the rings as she began packing things away.

  "Are you disappointed? I told you there was nothing of any great value here."

  "It's very interesting," he said jerkily. "What sorts of things went into storage?"

  "All of the really valuable stuff." Brodie and the Brodericks wouldn't want her to detail it.

  "Jewelry? More rings?" He picked another one out and studied it, then replaced it and handed her the box.

  "Only a few, with precious stones in them." Sienna busied herself placing the lid on a box and asked casually, "How's your wife, and Pixie?"

  She saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. "They're … well." He looked around him. "You don't have anything more to show me?"

  If he was looking for an excuse to stay longer, it wouldn't wash. "Thank you for coming," she said. "It was kind of you to bother."

  He swallowed again. "I'm … glad you're all right."

&n
bsp; As she closed the front door behind Aidan, Brodie came from the living area, looking thunderous. "What the hell was that all about?" he asked. "How did he know you were here?"

  "He probably asked around town for someone connected with Pacific Treasure." He'd gone to some trouble to find her. "He was worried about me."

  "Why?"

  Irked at his proprietary assumption that he had a right to ask questions about her visitor, she said, "He'd heard something about the attack on the Sea-Rogue, I think. Or maybe he just wondered if I was safe with people like you. I've wondered myself."

  Brodie gave a harsh little laugh. "You know you're perfectly safe with me, Sienna." Glaring at her meaningfully, he added, "In every way."

  He'd demonstrated it conclusively, and she flushed at the reminder. "I have work to finish," she said, and returned to her workroom.

  Later Brodie went out, and Sienna was relieved. His mood had been uncomfortably ominous and even Camille had looked at him askance.

  When the telephone rang while they were having a break for coffee, Sienna went to pick up the receiver in the hall.

  It was Aidan.

  "I thought you'd left," she said. "Where are you?"

  "I'm at the hotel. I thought," he said, "maybe we could have dinner together here tonight? Say yes!" he added quickly. "It's important."

  "What's important?" Obviously something was agitating him. She hesitated. "Is this personal?"

  "No. No, it's to do with—with your work. I can't tell you now," he said. "Can you come to the hotel at seven?"

  "All right," she said slowly. "I'll be there."

  Brodie arrived back with a package in his hand while Sienna and Camille were drinking coffee at the dining counter. "Smoked kingfish tonight," he said, putting the package in the refrigerator, "courtesy of one of my regular customers."

  Sienna put down her coffee cup. "I'm having dinner with Aidan."

  Brodie swung round, slamming the refrigerator door. "You're what?"

  Sienna lifted her head. "I'm having dinner with—"

  "The hell you are!" Brodie exploded. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

  Sienna raised her eyebrows, trying to appear cool and in control. "You don't have anything to do with it. And what makes you think you can dictate to me—"

  "You're not going out of this house," Brodie said flatly. "Not without me."

  "And leave Camille alone? Rogan would never forgive you. I don't need a chaperon, Brodie. I'll drive to the hotel and back and keep the car doors locked—it's only five minutes. And I'll be with Aidan while I'm there—I'm sure he'll walk me to my car."

  Brodie snorted. "Aidan! A bloody academic—what use would he be if anything happened?"

  "Nothing's likely to happen! I know you mean well, and Rogan asked you to watch Camille and me, but you're overdoing it. Frankly, I'm tired of being cooped up with a human watchdog. A meal out will be a nice change!"

  He looked infuriated. "Well, this watchdog takes his job seriously. I'm not letting you out of my sight, so live with it, honey."

  Before Sienna, further irritated by the casual, anonymous endearment, could reply, Camille cut in. "Why don't we all go out for dinner? The alarm can be switched through to the firm that put it in, can't it, in case anyone does try to burgle the house while we're out?"

  Brodie turned to her. A slow smile lit his face. "I like it," he said. "I look forward to seeing Aidan's face when we all turn up for a date with him."

  Sienna made an outraged sound, and Camille gave him a reproving look. "I didn't mean that. You and I could have dinner together at the Imperial, so you can keep an eye—a distant eye—on Sienna without intruding. If that's all right .with you, Sienna?"

  Reluctantly Sienna said, "I suppose." Glaring again at Brodie, she said, "And don't you dare come near us!"

  Still grinning, he looked back at her. "Okay. But I'll be watching every minute."

  Brodie suggested they only needed one car to drive to the hotel, that it was silly for Sienna to travel the short distance separately.

  "I don't want to arrive and leave with you escorting me like some Victorian father," she said.

  "Give me your keys. I'll drive and drop you off, then park the car, and Camille and I will come in a few minutes after you."

  It was probably the best offer she was going to get.

  When she got out of the car at the hotel door, Brodie waited until she'd gone inside and then drove off.

  Aidan got up from a chair in the lobby and came to meet her, his smile still holding the strain she'd noticed earlier. "I've reserved a table for us," he said, leading her to the restaurant. It was busy but there were still several empty tables. The hostess ushered Aidan and Sienna to a booth in a corner. Perhaps he'd requested privacy.

  They were opening their menus when Brodie and Camille came in and were given a table by the window. Brodie looked around him, caught her eye briefly without altering his expression, then turned his attention to Camille.

  Aidan ordered wine, the first glass of which he gulped down before pouring himself a second. Sienna noticed his hand was unsteady. Had he already been drinking today? That wasn't like him.

  He spent a long time poring over the menu, yet when the waitress asked for his order he seemed flustered and undecided. "Oh … fish, I suppose," he said finally.

  "Fish of the day, sir?"

  "Yes, that'll do."

  Sienna asked for the chicken special, and when the waitress left said, "What did you want to talk about, Aidan?"

  He was staring across the room. "Isn't that Brodie Stanner?"

  Of course it was, but she turned her head all the same. Brodie was talking to a waitress who hovered over the table, smiling at him in a besotted way. She'd probably forget what he'd ordered and have to come back and check. Any excuse.

  Aidan said, "What is he, your bodyguard or something?"

  Brodie seemed to have assumed the role. Sienna said, "No, of course not. Camille and I are staying with him for a couple of weeks. There aren't that many places apart from the Imperial in Mokohina where you can get a good dinner, you know, if they felt like going out."

  Aidan looked suspicious and almost hunted. "Coincidence?"

  "Does it matter? They won't bother us."

  "I suppose not." He fiddled with the fork at his place, picking it up, putting it down.

  Sienna was aware of when the waitress left Brodie and Camille's table. She couldn't stop herself from glancing over at them. Camille was looking out the window at the harbor. Brodie's blue gaze collided with Sienna's. This time he didn't look away, and she had to wrench her attention back to Aidan, who was still looking broodingly down at the table.

  She supposed that eventually he'd tell her what was worrying him.

  When he looked up he began to talk about the artifacts she'd shown him earlier, in a peculiarly random way. "There were some quite nice rings in that little collection you have," he said after their meals were put in front of them and he'd started on his fish, though with no appearance of enjoyment. "I'd have expected to see a mourning ring or two among them. At that period, you know."

  Sienna, about to lift a piece of chicken to her mouth, went suddenly cold. Even her brain seemed to freeze, her fork poised as she stared at the morsel on it, with no idea what it was. She put it down, feeling sick, and raised her eyes to Aidan, seeing him as if he were a total stranger.

  His hair was damp at the roots, his forehead glistening. He was sweating, although the restaurant wasn't particularly warm. Still talking, he said quickly, "They were quite popular in Victorian times. You didn't find any?"

  "No," she said distantly, as though someone else were using her vocal cords. "Not in the ship. Why do you want to know, Aidan?"

  He blinked twice, rapidly. "Just … general interest. What do you mean, not in the ship?"

  "You know what I mean." Leaning forward, her voice steely now, she repeated, "Why do you want to know?"

  Aidan blinked again. "Someone … someone
I know may be interested in buying it … I mean, one—a mourning ring."

  "A particular mourning ring," Sienna suggested very quietly. "A gold ring with a snake frame and a gold urn on black enamel."

  "You do have it." He grasped her hand, so hard that it hurt. "Sienna, for your own sake, give it to me!"

  Something made her turn her head, an awareness that she was being watched. Across the room Brodie's blue stare was fierce, one hand clenched on a table napkin in front of him. Camille was saying something to him but he seemed to be ignoring her.

  Resisting an urge to free herself and run across the room to him, she looked back at Aidan. "Tell me what's going on. How long have you have been working for these people?"

  "I'm not—"

  "Tell me!"

  "I knew this wouldn't work," he moaned. "I told them—"

  "Who's them?"

  "I can't—Sienna, please! You'll be safe once they have it. And so will—" He stopped, swallowing hard.

  "You?" she suggested with contempt, trying to draw away her hand, but his hold convulsively tightened. Obviously he was scared stiff of whoever these people were. "Did your masters threaten to kill you if you didn't obey them?"

  To her dismayed astonishment his eyes glazed with tears. His voice was a hoarse whisper. "You don't understand! If I don't get that ring they'll hurt Pixie!"

  "Pixie!" Her stomach hollowed. They'd threatened to harm his child?

  Instinctively she put her free hand over his. "Aidan, you have to go to the police—they can protect her."

  "It's too late for that. I'm in too deep—being watched—they'd know, and then… I can't risk it. I'm begging you, Sienna. For my baby girl."

  Brodie watched in outraged disbelief as the tête-à-tête in the booth seemed to get more and more intimate. First Sienna had leaned over the table, fixed her gorgeous eyes on this Aidan character and said something earnestly intense to him, and then he took her hand, making Brodie prickle all over with hostility, and mash the napkin in his hand into a creased, sorry mess. It also made his recent wound sting, further exacerbating his temper.

  The conversation got real concentrated after that, until Sienna put her hand over Aidan's and Brodie could scarcely stop himself from jumping up, marching over there and demanding to know what the hell was going on between them.