Pulling out the top drawer under the sink, he rummaged, dug out a cellophane-wrapped toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. “Here you go.”
She managed that chore by herself, then Nathan did the elbow-holding trick again. He led her back to the bed, rehung the IV bag on its cup hook.
“I’m guessing you still can’t bend enough to sit in the chair, but if you can hold the bedpost and keep your balance, I’ll dry your hair.”
She did, then he proceeded with the task. When her hair was as dry as he could get it, he put the towel in the bathroom, returned with a brush.
“Here, baby, let’s get out the knots.”
As much as her body ached, as weak as she felt, Kacey began to sway to the pleasant rhythm of the strokes, as Nathan gently brushed through her damp hair—first with the brush, then with his fingers.
“Mmm.”
“You like?”
“Mmm.”
The finger combing ceased at the same time she felt his warm breath against her neck, then his hands on her shoulders.
“Nathan?”
“Shh. Sleeping with you but not sleeping with you is enough to make even a sane man crazy.”
His solid arousal pressed against her. Still not steady on her feet, her body swayed away from the push of his big self.
His broad hands caught her by the shoulders. “Jeez, what an asshole I am. Sorry, baby, I didn’t think about how rocky you’d be.”
“Well, do something. Help me before I crash and wreck all Jonah’s good work. But I don’t want to lay flat again. I feel too helpless lying flat.”
Nathan stacked and plumped the pillows so she could sit up somewhat without bending more than a little. Hands on hips, spread-legged, he looked down at her. “How’s that?”
“All right. And thanks for the salon treatment—clean is always much better.” She shifted onto her good hip, so she could sit up a bit further. “Where is everyone? Did the guys leave? Where’s Gemma? Is she with Jack?”
Arranging himself next to her, he fingered the drying strands of her hair. She closed her eyes, loath to admit she enjoyed the pampering.
“Slow down, one thing at a time. No, everyone’s still here. Two-man teams take turns on guard patrol. Jack is still trying to ferret out the leak in his office. I don’t think the guy has slept for more than ten minutes at a time, at least since we’ve been here. Probably since this whole affair began. He was surrounded by people he trusted, people who have been vetted to the max. Went over the roster, over and over. Solid people, all. No new hires. No recent firings. Doesn’t make any sense.”
“Ergo, it’s someone outside Jack’s circle. Someone within the senator’s purview.”
Nathan nodded. “Okay, I can go with that. But who?”
“I’m thinking. And Gemma?”
“She’s a great kid, a real trooper, I’ll tell ya that much. She’s rolling with the punches like a pro. I don’t know too many adults who could go through what she has and still keep their stuff together.”
Another thought reared its head. “Has anyone notified her father yet?”
“Uh uh. Nope. Cannon’s still holding off.”
“Wow, he must be catchin’ hell from upstairs. How is the delay affecting Gemma?”
“To tell the truth, she appears to be good with it. More concerned about checking in with the household staff so they don’t worry. That’s kinda sad. Jack said he can’t take the chance, not yet. The higher-ups, not to mention the rabid press, are clamoring for results, but Jack’s afraid to tip his hand. I’m waiting for someone in the big house to force Jack before he’s ready.”
Bracing on stiff arms, Kacey pulled up a bit straighter. “Mansfield always struck me as a coldhearted prick, but how can he be that way with his own daughter? She’s just a kid. I have the feeling there’s no real love lost there, on either side. Felt the same way about the sonofabitch when his wife died. He blatantly used her death for sympathy votes. Maria was a real class act, a nice lady, definitely married beneath herself.”
She shifted, tried to get more comfortable. “My folks knew her. Da never had much use for John, even before the asshole made senator. Now that I think about it, I even heard Mother utter an unpleasantness regarding her feelings toward him, which was highly unusual. I believe she referred to him as a sneaky weasel. Strong sentiment, coming from my mum.”
As Kacey talked, Nathan placed his hand on her thigh, away from the bandages on her hip. The hand traveled, the touch light but steady. Leg to calf, calf to foot. Fingertips aligned on her instep as he massaged the ankle joint with the pad of his thumb. His actions definitely screwed with her thought processes.
“Nathan, what do you think is going on here, between us?” She felt his body move closer, his chest pressing lightly, but solidly, against her.
“R and R. You need rest and relaxation to heal properly. I’m helping.”
“Is that so.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
She considered that, as she relaxed into the foot massage. “How would I know?”
“According to my mother, I’m not a good liar. Trust me, you would know.”
The massage became a caress. His focus of his interest suddenly kicked up—she could feel the excitement through his very skin. The pattern of his breathing changed, as well.
She cocked her head. “Nathan, are you sniffing me?”
“Yes. Your hair smells good.”
“Thanks to you, and your shampooing abilities.” She gave credit where credit was due.
The sniffing ceased as he nuzzled her hair, nibbled the top of her ear. “Turn onto your back.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Turn onto your back, please.”
“Nathan, we can’t—”
His kisses interrupted her thought processes, as well as interfered with her ability to speak.
“Yes, we can.” Rising, he locked the bedroom door. When he returned, he motioned for her to turn, then slide onto her back.
He walked around to the bottom of the bed. Carefully, so he didn’t bounce the mattress, he knelt, bent her left knee so her leg was out of the way, slowly spread apart her thighs. Lying flat, he pushed just a little wider to accommodate the space needed for his shoulders.
With the look of the devil in his eyes, Nathan dipped his head, planted soft kisses on the insides of her legs. He spoke between kisses. “This is part of the relaxation protocol. Sorry you missed the memo.”
Kacey felt too wrecked to argue with him. What the hell, might as well let him do his damnedest. She was in no shape to get any enjoyment out of it. She made herself comfortable, tried to relax, let the pain med do its job.
The moment Nathan’s mouth landed on her mound, her body disagreed—relaxation wasn’t included on its list of responses.
Fingers in his hair, she pulled his head up. “Omigod, I haven’t even showered.”
“Not to worry, dear heart. I bathed you.” He slid his arms under her legs to anchor himself, then returned to lave her girl bits, which had jumped from taut to tingly.
She pulled up carefully, rested on her elbows. “You did what?”
He looked up, grinned like a little boy. “After Jonah fixed you up, you were all bloody and covered with disinfectant. I bathed you, so you’d be more comfortable—not to mention more hygienic, y’know, with gaping holes in your side. You’re wearing one of my T-shirts.”
That would explain why she hadn’t felt all yucky from lying in bed.
“So, dear heart, may I proceed?”
A nice buzz from the pain med seemed to be kicking in. “I’m not your dear anything. But since you’re there, you may as well do your damnedest.”
Jostling her as little as possible, he returned his mouth to the business at hand.
She settled back against her pillows, arms spread to the sides, considered the liberties he’d already taken with her body. Then again, everything the man did proved to be to her benefit. How could she be angry? Any annoyanc
e she felt was clearly unjustified. So, why was there a remnant of irritation still niggling at her?
She’d given him space to leave, given him every opportunity to have a normal life of his own—to the extent any of them could manage a life of supposed normalcy—so why the continued pursuit? Was he a masochist, or just plain stubborn beyond words?
Fuck it. I’m probably too drugged up to—
“Oh hell, yes, omigod, Nathan, yess!”
Chapter Ten
Nathan’s plan for a peaceful civilian life had gone to hell the moment he overheard Jack Cannon’s voice over Kacey’s phone. He hadn’t the chance to pull her back from the brink of her private hell before she’d jumped into the shit-pit up to her eyeballs, one more time.
It wasn’t that he minded being between her sleek, smooth thighs, enticing waves of orgasms from her battered but eager body—he’d just rather be doing it in the comfort, and more importantly, the safety and security, of his own bed. Without bullet holes being involved.
He didn’t understand why she continued to fight him. Okay, so maybe surprising her on her home turf wasn’t the most brilliant plan he’d ever come up with, but it had played out differently in his mind. Jonah had been a solid, loyal friend, and they’d been through hell together and survived, more times than Nate could even count. When Jonah found that Kacey had returned to her own backyard, then said she needed help, Nate didn’t hesitate. The SEALs had been his life, his only life, for twenty years—yet he’d cut loose as soon as the Navy set him free.
The knock at the bedroom door, then the jiggle of the door handle, broke the mood. It also brought Kacey back to reality, much too quickly. Her body tensed under him. When he looked up, he saw her eyes grow wide. As soon as he sat back, she lowered the T-shirt and flipped the blanket over her half-naked self.
“Nathan, move, dammit.”
Shit.
“Weatherly, I know you’re in there. Open the damn door.”
“Bloody hell. Cannon. I will get even for this, you wanker.”
Pulling on his own shirt, Nate opened the door. He couldn’t hide his displeased expression, the direct result of cunnilingus interruptus.
“What, Cannon, could you possibly want?”
Ignoring his displeasure, Jack pushed his way in, parked himself in a side chair. He leveled a hard look at Nate, then glanced at Kacey. “Kace, how are you feeling?”
“Better by the minute.”
“Don’t lie to me. You still look like crap. You’re flushed, like you have a fever. Do you have a fever? Nate, get Jonah in here.”
Enough was enough. Nate took the other side chair, slid it next to Kacey’s bed. “Jack, lighten up. Her temperature is fine. What has your knickers in a knot?”
“Other than a kidnapping from what should have been a secure location, dead team members, and missing millions? Not much.” He kicked the closest leg of the bed in frustration. “No matter how many times I go over our protocols, I know my guys didn’t fuck up.” He fidgeted in his chair, leaned with elbows on knees. “Okay. Only two people might have slipped under the radar, but neither of them make any sense. What would be the motive?”
Kacey perked up. “Senator Slimeball must be one. Who’s the other?”
Nate shook his head, wondered how she made the connection so quickly.
“His bodyguard.”
Kacey sat up a bit straighter. “Bodyguard?”
“Yeah. Big fella. Shaved head, brown eyes, dark tan. Well spoken, the few words he’s actually uttered. Sharp dresser. As one of my female agents said, almost too handsome. A bit on the cocky side. Slight accent, haven’t placed it yet.” He pulled out his notebook. “William Brown.”
Kacey cocked her head. “What’s he doing with Mansfield, slumming? Most of the senator’s protection entourage are hardly better than thugs. Secret Service wannabees, rent-a-cops who couldn’t make the grade in the government sector.”
Nate shook his head. How does she keep up on this stuff? I stay in touch with the latest because I’m a SEAL. Was a SEAL. And she’s been out playing in the sand for how many years?
“Unless someone pulled a real fast one, no one left the suite between the time the senator arrived and the time the ransom was paid.”
Her hand pressed to her side, Kacey swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sat up as straight as she could manage. A groan resulted, combined with a muttered, “shit, that hurts.” Both men looked at her. She shrugged. “I think better when I’m sitting up.”
She held her hand out toward Nate, palm up. “Pill, please.”
Nate didn’t miss Jack’s look of incredulous disbelief when he presented Kacey with a painkiller and a glass of water. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Your most humble and obedient servant. I live to serve.”
“Liar.”
Nate managed to look emotionally wounded. “Didn’t we discuss this earlier?”
Jack shook his head, rubbed his temple. “I don’t believe you two.”
“Nathan, stop baiting the nice FBI agent. Jack, who called in the FBI? LEOs or Mansfield?”
“Mansfield. Why?”
“Has anyone spoken to Gemma about her father?”
Jack flipped through his notebook again. “Other than to see if she was okay with not calling him immediately, no.”
“And she agreed?”
Nate chimed in. “Yes, she did. Without hesitation. We all heard her.”
Kacey stood, tried to straighten up, her hand plastered to her side. “Doesn’t anyone find it strange that an eleven-year-old girl, drugged, kidnapped from her bed, held by strangers, rescued by a group of men she didn’t know, doesn’t appear to be in any great hurry to speak to her dad?”
Jack stared at her. “Her only concern was that the staff would be terribly worried if they weren’t told. She felt bad about it, wanted to contact them. I couldn’t let her do that, not yet.”
Kacey hobbled around the bed, leaned against the window frame. She pushed the curtains aside, looked outside. After a moment, she waved. “My big, bad, silver-eyed Barracuda, watchdog on patrol.”
Nathan’s gut clenched. He hoped she was just fucking with him. She’d better not be cheating with Marcus. Barracuda was bigger, stronger, and possibly meaner, which could get ugly. All Nathan had on his side was his sense of righteousness—and a few really dirty tricks. Damn woman, what was she doing to him?
She adjusted the curtains, turned again, smiled sweetly. “Best guess, Very Special Agent in Charge Cannon, is that you have your freaky leak. You need to find out why—and your kidnap victim is the key.”
When she began to wobble, Nate scooped her into his arms before Jack could move, carried her to the bed.
Cannon scowled. “Oh yeah. You two are definitely scaring the shit out of me.”
…
Jack left, followed by Nathan—which allowed Kacey to actually relax. She wished she had her bunny slippers, but her cross-trainers would do. Nothing to be done about upgrading from the T-shirt to another clean T-shirt, since she still couldn’t tolerate clothing in the vicinity of her waist and right hip. From the size of it, it could be one of Barracuda’s, although… She sniffed. Nope, definitely Nathan’s.
Using the wall, then the counter for support, she strolled carefully into the kitchen, sat sideways at the table, the leg on her injured side straightened out enough so she didn’t need to bend her body at a ninety-degree angle.
Gemma entered the kitchen behind her, looking more like a normal girl in a sparkly, sequined, short-sleeved purple pullover, slim black jeans, and her long curly hair pulled back in a barrette. A smile lit up her pretty face. “Miss Kacey, you’re up! Does that mean you feel better?”
“I do sweetie, I do. So, I thought I’d join everyone for dinner. At least, for as long as I can sit up.”
As the crew members who were not on patrol entered the kitchen, each one planted quick kisses on Kacey’s face. Her eyes welled with unshed tears at the outpouring of affection from the rough, to
ugh men. God, she loved those guys.
Barracuda sauntered in. Not sure how he could pick her up without causing damage, he lifted her—and the chair—and planted a kiss square on her lips.
She laughed as he placed her and the chair back on the floor. “My own Aquaman. You really do like to start trouble, don’t you?”
“Nah. Anyway, Nate’s helping to bring in dinner.”
To her surprise, Kacey felt a flush reach her cheeks. Did all the guys know about Nathan’s attentions?
“I have no idea to what you are referring, Mr. Instigator.”
“Uh huh. Right.”
“So, what’s for dinner?”
Before he could respond, Aye-Aye walked in with a stack of pizza boxes in his arms, followed by Nathan, with a second stack. “Pizza delivery.”
Gemma clapped her hands. “Pizza, all right!”
Jeffrey piled paper plates and napkins on the table. “We felt kinda bad that you didn’t get your pizza, so Aye-Aye and Billy Boy picked up dinner. Might have to stick some slices in the oven if you want scalding hot, but they should still be warm enough.”
A chill crawled up Kacey’s back. “Wasn’t that maybe too risky, going into town?”
Billy Boy rummaged through the kitchen drawers, found a pizza cutter and tossed it on top of a box. “Please, give us credit for having at least a few brains. Some sorta event in town. Pizza joints, fast food hot spots, ice cream parlors hoppin’. Besides, it’s not like we paraded Barracuda through the streets. We left him here, so’s not to attract unwanted attention.” That earned Billy a whomp on the shoulder from the man being discussed.
Then Barracuda grinned, gray eyes shining. “Hey, what can I say, I’m naturally awe-inspiring and photogenic.”
Billy Boy rubbed his shoulder. “You’re more like a natural disaster.” He found a box with a giant black X on the top, slid it toward Gemma. “Here ya go, honey, made special for you.”
She peeked in, grinned like a real kid. “Oh wow, pepperoni and black olives with extra cheese. You guys rock!”
Aye-Aye poked Barracuda. “See, us guys rock.” The men opened boxes, dove into the offerings.
Jack looked around the room, tried to count heads among the ravenous rabble. “Who’s doing rounds?”
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