Rhy dismissed the possibility with a snort. “He knows I’m involved. He won’t believe for a second I’ve left you there by yourself.”
“What happens when he doesn’t show? He isn’t stupid.” Frustration sharpened her voice. “What if he believes I’m too well guarded? He could decide to cut his losses and disappear.”
“He could’ve done that already, in which case, this entire exercise is a waste of time.” Rhy met her glare with steely determination. Thanks to Tim’s digging, something Rhy should have done from the beginning, he now knew there had never been any reason, other than obsession or pure cruelty, for Everson’s interest in finding Nicky. He’d show. His ego would demand it.
Nicky crossed her arms and remained silent.
He dipped his chin in a curt nod and propped his hands on the kitchen counter behind him. “That’s what I thought. Everson’s ego won’t let a little thing like a bodyguard stop him from finishing up what his shiny calling card promised.” And whether she knew it or not, Rhy owed her for that. He’d damn well be the one to face Everson when he showed.
She’d finally been forced to accept his plan. They weren’t going anywhere until she did.
While Rhy spoke to Lyndsay, his gaze followed Nicky as she spent a few minutes alone with Alex. At the paddock holding several of the ranch’s young foals, the boy climbed up on the middle rung of the fence and pointed out his favorites. Her rare laughter drifted across the yard, their dark heads close, as they enjoyed the antics of a particularly frisky two-month-old.
Rhy’s heart twisted, and he fought the urge to rub a palm over his chest. He’d fallen in love before, knew the signs. From the first time he’d held Emily in his arms, she was his heart, and there had been a time, before life’s commitments had ripped them apart, when he’d loved Pamela, as she had loved him.
Somehow, Nicky and Alex had slid past his self-erected barriers, and the slide wasn’t one-sided. From nearly the first day, Alex had happily accepted Rhy into their private circle, and although Nicky tried to disguise it, the wary light of growing affection in her eyes was impossible to miss.
Across the lawn, Alex grinned up at Nicky. She ruffled his hair, helped him down from the fence, and turned. A sad smile rode her lips when her gaze found Rhy. His heart knocked against his ribs then fell the rest of the way into love with a painful thud. They walked toward him and presented a tempting picture—of the family he could never have.
He’d tried the family life once and failed everyone involved.
Shaking himself mentally, he thanked the Maxwells. As he shook Devin’s hand and promised to keep them informed of what was happening, Rhy’s gaze was drawn back to the paddock. Nicky clung to her son as if it were the last time she’d see him. Cursing beneath his breath, Rhy shuffled her into the car.
Nicky twisted around in the front seat of the Taurus to return Alex’s wave where he stood next to a towering Lyndsay. Rhy’s gaze shifted to the rearview mirror. Alex grew smaller and smaller until they passed over a rise and he disappeared. Nicky faced front and blinked, staring through the windshield, and the film of tears in her eyes lashed at Rhy.
He laid his hand over hers. “Lyndsay and Maxwell will keep him safe. I promise, Nicky. I’ll bring you back to him when this is done.” Or die trying.
Without a word, Nicky turned her hand over to grip his and held on.
Chapter Seventeen
Three hours later, Nicky placed two bags of groceries on the counter. She’d seen no sign of McLean’s invisible team as they approached her cabin, but they were close by. He had checked in by radio before they’d come inside. Her eyes were drawn to Charlie’s bowls in the corner of the kitchen.
McLean followed her gaze. “What?”
“Whoever left the ring drugged Charlie.” She spun away and began to pull items from the bags.
“Charlie?”
“Alex’s dog.”
A curious flickering flashed in his eyes before they narrowed on her. “They killed his dog?”
Nicky shook her head. “No, they just made sure he slept through what they came to do. He was fine by the time I left him with a friend on my way to DC.”
McLean crossed to the dog’s empty bowls and crouched. He ran the tip of his pinky along the surface of one, sniffed his finger, and repeated the process with the second bowl. Grunting, he wiped his finger on the thigh of his jeans and stood. He leaned against the counter without a word.
Dressed casually in jeans and flannel, he appeared right at home against the backdrop of her country kitchen, but the rarity of sharing her personal space with a man made her jittery. Rarity, hell. She hadn’t been completely alone with a man since she’d run from Jonathan. And McLean wasn’t just any man.
The breath backed up in her throat, and she busied herself with storing the groceries they’d picked up on the way to the cabin. The mundane task failed to quell her nerves, especially when she pulled the box of condoms Rhy had added to the cart from one of the bags. She yanked open the first drawer she could reach and shoved the box inside.
With Alex safe, or as safe as they could make him, the coming confrontation with Jonathan hovered like a specter, but her ex-husband’s impending arrival wasn’t the cause of her current restlessness. The blame rested firmly on the six-foot-two bruiser leaning against the counter.
Though he remained silent, McLean watched her. Ankles crossed and muscled arms akimbo, he stood with his hips propped against the edge of the countertop. The pose was casual, easy, but each time her gaze skittered past his, the utter focus in his eyes told another story.
The memory of what they’d left unfinished in the garden shimmered in the air between them and battered against the knowledge Jonathan could show up at any moment. Nicky was at a loss how to balance the two situations. When she finally surveyed the kitchen and could find nothing else to occupy her shaking hands, she dragged in a breath and faced him.
“What now?”
As if the question released McLean from some invisible leash, he pushed away from the counter. He unclipped the radio from his waist, set it and his handgun aside, and closed the distance between them. Without a moment’s hesitation, he speared his fingers through her hair and brought his mouth down on hers.
The heat of his eagerly searching lips burned away Nicky’s nervousness. Desperate to bring them into closer contact, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed against him. Her tongue sparred with his. She met his urgency and demanded more, demanded all he could give her.
He walked her back until her shoulders and bottom came into hard contact with the refrigerator. She arched into him even as he pinned her against the cool barrier.
Roughly uttered words and frenzied hands and mouths drove them on a haze of need. Buttons pinged off the tile floor as minuscule buttonholes proved difficult and he wrenched the material of her blouse apart. One big hand covered her chest, his palm at the swell of her breasts. His widespread fingers pressed over her collarbone and held her still while he slid his other arm behind the small of her back to yank her flush against him.
Nicky’s hands shook as she wrestled with the hem of his T-shirt in an effort to shove it up and over his shoulders. His mouth left hers. She opened her eyes, and her breath broke at the scorching intensity on his face. His fevered gaze followed the movement of his hand against her skin as his calloused palm and long fingers rode upward to encircle the column of her neck before burning a return path to her breast.
McLean looked up, eyes burning, and lowered his mouth to brush her lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss. The tenderness of the action was so at odds with the raging need in his eyes, her world fell off-balance. If not for the strong arm anchoring her to him, she would have fallen. She slipped her hands to his waist and held on.
With index finger and thumb, he snapped the front clasp and dispensed with her bra, brushing aside the lace. Lifting his head, he dropped his gaze to her chest. She shivered beneath the slide of his calloused fingertip circling one straining nipple. A
humming murmur rumbled deep in his throat, and the blue of his irises darkened to indigo. He dipped his head.
Nicky jerked at the heat of his mouth closing around the tightened bud of her nipple. The lacy bra hung from her elbows, along with her ruined blouse. She dropped her arms and shook the restrictive material free. With her arms unfettered, she yanked at the bottom of his T-shirt once more. His deep chuckle vibrated through her. He released her and stepped back to fist the shirt at the back of his neck. One-handed, he tore the offending garment over his head and dropped it to the floor.
Her hungry gaze feasted on the delicious expanse of muscle and sinew he’d exposed and snagged on the heavy bulge stretching the thick denim at his zipper. She hummed low in her throat and lifted her fingers to the button of his jeans. On a hiss, his stomach muscles contracted, and she slid the button free, rasping the zipper down.
Holding his molten gaze, she slid her hand beneath the waistband of his briefs. She wrapped her fingers around him, measuring the length and width of his erection from base to tip. Primal heat and power seared her palm, and a gush of wet heat further dampened the folds between her legs.
A low moan escaped him, and his body shuddered heavily. He gripped her wrist, tugging her hand free, and pulled her against him once more. Skin met skin and sent an arc of fire flaring through her.
McLean’s control shattered, and Nicky reveled in the loss. Two pairs of hands battled against cloth barriers until none remained, and he banded an arm around her waist to guide her to the floor. He leaned over her on the cool tile, and his mouth followed where his stroking hands led. Rough palms and fingers shaped and molded her body while his lips and tongue feasted on each newly discovered territory. She savored the sculpted muscles of his shoulders and back. Excitement swelled as her fingers danced along the ridged seam of his backbone to his waist, then down over the firm swell of his ass.
She purred when he curved his palm over the apex of her thighs and gasped as he plunged a long finger inside. Her hips arched, and she ground herself against his hand, greedily racing toward an irresistible implosion. “Please.”
He released her to lever up on one arm, and Nicky groaned her disappointment. Opening her eyes, she panted as he reached up and blindly opened the drawer where she’d stashed the condoms. His hand scrabbled about in search, and his eyes lit with relief. After casting aside the box, he ripped open the foil packet with his teeth and covered himself with impressive speed.
McLean dipped his head to rest his forehead against hers and spoke in a guttural growl. “I can’t wait.”
“I don’t want you to. Please.”
He rose above her and settled between her thighs. A shift of his hips and he plunged inside her. She moaned at the exciting fullness of him as he sank deep and fused their bodies together so perfectly she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.
Smoldering, blue fire held her captive, and his slow smile further warmed her overheated body.
“Stay with me, baby.”
Nicky planned to, if only he’d get on with it. She was going up in flames. Wrapping a leg around the back of his muscled thighs, she shifted her hips upward and forced the issue. His tortured moan brought forth a pleased laugh. He narrowed his eyes but took the hint as intended. In a dance choreographed by the gods, they began to move as one, rising, falling, riding on a spiral of unbearable sensation until her crooning cry of completion merged with his triumphant shout of pleasure.
Minutes later, the chill of the tile floor registered against Nicky’s bare back and bottom. Only then did awareness seep back into her consciousness.
McLean’s harsh breathing tickled her ear.
She marveled at the luxurious weight of him, at the firmness of the smooth, damp skin of his back under her fingers, and at the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat against hers. She sighed and breathed in the heady scent of musky man and spiciness that was uniquely him. A delighted shiver raced over her at the innate pleasure of being surrounded by him in all her senses.
“Damn.” McLean stirred. Braced on his forearms, he blinked into her eyes. “That was…” He shook his head.
Nicky understood his dilemma. Her vocabulary wasn’t vast enough to come up with a word sufficient to describe what just happened between them. “Yeah, that was.”
His sexy, single dimple made an appearance in his slow smile. “Are you all right?”
“Better than all right.”
He lowered his mouth to hers and took his time bringing her back to the point of frenzied need. She forgot the chill of the tile floor beneath her. With greedy enjoyment, she savored his sultry attentions, and what began in the late-morning light of the kitchen eventually moved upstairs to her bedroom. The sun had begun its dip below the horizon by the time they finally came up for air.
“My daughter’s name was Emily.”
Tucked to Rhy’s side, Nicky jerked her head up and around. Dismay filled her eyes. “Was?”
Sadness followed the brief stab of pain, and he turned his focus to the softness of her skin, running his fingertips down her arm and up again. “She was in the car with my ex-wife when a tractor-trailer jackknifed and caused a chain reaction accident that killed them both.”
Nicky remained silent as if she searched for the right words. Rhy knew only too well, there were none. Not for others as they struggled for encouraging platitudes, and not for him to explain the stark sense of loss that never quite faded, no matter how much time passed. In the end, she said nothing. She tightened her arm around his waist and burrowed her face more closely against his shoulder.
He wasn’t sure why he’d brought up the accident. Pamela’s and Emily’s deaths weren’t something he liked to think about, much less discuss, but his bitterness over how things had played out with Pamela was at the root of his fuckup where Everson was concerned. He’d told himself the mission was too important to risk coming clean until Everson was caught, but maybe he just couldn’t stand the thought of Nicky hating him when she learned the truth. If she understood his reasoning, would that lessen the blow?
He laid his hand over her arm at his stomach. “The divorce was nasty and the custody fight even worse. My ex-wife had some powerful political connections and made it difficult for me to see Emily. I hadn’t seen her for two months when they were killed.”
Nicky tensed at his side. “That must have been awful. What happened? Why did you break up?”
He stared at the ceiling. For years, he’d blamed Pamela for all of it, but witnessing Nicky’s single-minded focus on protecting her son, he couldn’t help comparing her actions to Pamela’s. And he didn’t like what he saw. Like Nicky, Pamela’s central focus had been her child from the moment she knew she was pregnant. He hadn’t seen it that way at the time, and admitting his part in the failure of their marriage was a bitter pill to swallow.
He rolled his shoulders against the stab of sadness. “Pamela needed things from me I wasn’t capable of giving.” He brushed a thumb over the soft skin of Nicky’s forearm. “I’d just gotten my foot in the door with the Pentagon when we met. She knew the kind of work I did. Knew of the danger, the travel, and the hours required. Before we married, she claimed none of that mattered. Three months later, she was pregnant with Emily, and everything changed. She wanted me home. Safe. At her side.
“Her grandfather was a congressman at the time. She pushed me to take a job managing his security, but I’m a Marine, not a security guard.” He dragged air into his lungs in a defeated sigh. “Things deteriorated after that, and back-to-back trips to Turkey only made matters worse. A couple months after Emily was born, she gave me an ultimatum. Either I take on a more administrative role, leaving the danger and travel to the other members of the team, or she’d file for divorce.”
He slid his eyes shut. “I didn’t believe her, but even if I had, I’d made a commitment to my team, to my clients. I left for Jordan the next morning. She was gone when I got back.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe she thought i
f she kept Emily from me long enough, she could get me to change. The accident happened two months later.”
Her cheek still pressed to his shoulder, Nicky was silent for a moment before murmuring, “I’m sorry, Rhy.”
Only too happy to shove the disturbing memories aside, he rolled with her until she lay on her back. Hovering over her, he held her gaze.
She blinked. “What?”
“That’s only the second time you’ve said my name. The first time you made it sound like a curse.”
Color bloomed on her cheeks, but in typical Nicky fashion, she didn’t cut him any slack. “You were acting like a jerk at the time, McLean.”
He couldn’t help grinning and dipped his head until his lips almost brushed hers. “And now?”
Humor sparkled in her eyes. “The jury’s still out.”
“Stubborn woman.” He laughed and nibbled her lower lip. “Say it again.”
“No.”
Rhy paused in the love play to arch a brow. A little tongue was in order. He ran the tip along the seam of her lips. “Say it.” When she opened her mouth, no doubt to deny his request once more, he took full advantage, sinking his tongue deep into the warm cavity of her mouth. Spice and honey exploded on his taste buds, and he nearly forgot his mission. Slowing the kiss to gentle nips and bites, he crooned his demand. “Say it, Nicky. Say my name.”
Moist heat bathed his lips when she sighed, “Rhy.”
He immediately lifted his head, his smile victorious. She shoved at his shoulders, and he flopped to his back with a laugh.
“Like I said. Jerk.” She scooted back into place, resting her head on his shoulder.
He grinned as he tucked her closer in a gentle squeeze.
“What about your family?” Like a cat, she rubbed her cheek against his skin. “Are either of your parents still alive?”
He ran his fingers over her back, then lower to cup the curve of her ass. “They both are. Dad’s been with the FBI for thirty years. Mom is chief surgeon at DC Health Center. There were four of us boys. My brother Brian was the oldest, then me and my two younger brothers.
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