He scrubbed his palms against his cheeks and exhaled noisily. This wasn’t working. The longer he stayed in Alyssa’s desecrated room, the more upset he got. Careful to sidestep the blood, bone, and guts on the light beige carpeting, he picked his way across the room and joined Alyssa outside on the porch.
With the sun glinting off her golden hair, she was stunning, like something out of a dream. He practically shook with the need to run his hands along her smooth pale skin, to sink his fingers deep into her sweet-scented locks and hold her, to protect her from the world. To protect her from his world.
Of course, if he tried, she’d probably push him away and tell him to go to hell. This attack had rattled her, but he’d bet his house that Alyssa wasn’t going anywhere. He’d never met a more determined woman.
Hanging up the phone, she shot him a quirky half-smile. As far as pleasant expressions went, it wasn’t much. “Gauthier’s on his way with a CSI team. If the perp left any evidence behind, they’ll find it.”
“Is there someone you can stay with? Your parents? A friend?”
She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Don’t worry about driving. I can take you there.”
“There’s no one, Rémi.”
Come to think of it, she’d never mentioned her family or friends during any of their conversations. He pressed a little harder. Maybe she thought he’d see her reaching out as another sign of weakness. “Come on. There has to be somewhere you can go.”
“My brother is dead, my parents haven’t spoken to me since I entered the SQ, and I lost any friends I had when I went undercover and dropped off the face of the planet.”
The bruised, hurt look in her eyes reawakened the turmoil in his gut. He clamped his lips as a hundred questions bubbled up his throat. She couldn’t stay here, and she couldn’t be alone.
He had to get her mind off all this, at least for tonight. “Tell you what, when they’re done, we’ll get you moved into a new room. Then I’m taking you to a party.”
“A party? Are you out of your mind?”
A strand of hair floated across her face as a breeze blew. Tucking it behind her ear, he grinned. “Surely the SQ can survive without you for a few hours.”
She huffed out a breath. “I’m not saying they can’t. But this happened to me. I’ll need to write a report, follow up on any evidence. You know the drill.”
He arched a brow. “You’re the officer in charge?” Unless standard operating procedures had drastically changed since he’d left the force, the victim was never the lead on their own case.
“Well, no… but—”
“But nothing. It’ll do you good to get away from all this for a little while. Tomorrow will be soon enough to deal with everything.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”
Or a boner. He laughed. “Bow-wow.”
She shook her head. “You’re such a goof. But I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Is it working?”
Her expression softened. “So, what’s this party?”
“Nothing fancy. My neighbor, Nic, is having a small get-together for his son’s birthday.”
Her smile fell and she frowned. “On the reserve? I don’t think that’s such a good idea, right now.”
He took her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs over her soft skin. “I own a ranch a few kilometers from here.” Seeing her perplexed look, he added, “That wasn’t in my SQ file?”
“Uh, no. I thought you lived with your grandfather.”
“I let him think I do.” It was the only way Raksótha would let him spend money to maintain the small house where he’d grown up.
She laughed but tugged her hands from his at the sound of approaching sirens. He had to get her agreement before the cavalry arrived. “So you’ll come with me? It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, I’ll go with you. But only after I’m done here.”
An SQ cruiser with Gauthier at the wheel tore into the small parking lot, almost clipping the Fusion’s rear panel. “Guy drives like an old man with cataracts,” he muttered under his breath. Alyssa shot him an amused glance before stepping off the porch to meet her boss. Gauthier left the engine running and bolted out of the vehicle. Immediately his eyes scanned Alyssa’s body. The man was checking for injuries, but that didn’t stop Rémi from wanting to punch the guy. Alyssa was his.
What? Maybe she was right. Maybe he was out of his mind.
Alyssa wasn’t his, and she never could be. His path had been decided long ago: He’d marry an aboriginal woman, have aboriginal babies, and do his small part to ensure the survival of his people. He knew what was expected of him and he’d do it.
But not without frequent doses of lube, his palm, and photos of Alyssa in her sexy SQ uniform.
Alyssa wrangled her hair into a French twist and tried to secure it with several bobby pins, but once again she stabbed her scalp. Tossing the pins on the bathroom counter, she braced herself on the sink and sighed. Maybe going to this party with Rémi wasn’t such a good idea. Lifting her head, she studied herself in the mirror, saw the lines bracketing her mouth and the tightness of the skin around her eyes. No. Whoever had killed the pig would not win, would not scare her away. The Alyssa Morgan she knew never walked away from a fight.
Straightening, she picked up the fallen pins and tried again. A few tendrils escaped her efforts, framing her face. The effect softened her features, so she let the curls be. As she pulled the white sundress with splashes of teal and pink off the hanger and stepped into it, she had to admit that Rémi had worked some magic when he harangued the motel manager to change her room. Her new second-floor room was much larger than the old one. And even if she’d never admit it to him, she felt a lot safer here.
Reaching into the secret pocket of her makeup kit, she pulled out the only jewelry she’d brought: a long strand of fine gold links with small sapphires scattered along its length.
A knock sounded at the door, startling her so badly she dropped the necklace, sending it clattering to the tiled floor. Exasperated, she bent to retrieve it and quickly wound it around her neck. The door was locked and she had a gun. Calm the hell down, Alyssa.
Crossing the room, she snatched her weapon off the dresser and checked the peephole. Rémi. “One second,” she called out as she quickly locked her gun in the closet safe. Although she was sorely tempted to break the law by carrying her gun to the party, she wouldn’t. This was a child’s birthday party, and she’d hate herself if one of the children somehow got a hold of her pistol.
When she opened the door, her mouth went dry, and she had to lick her lips. His freshly washed black hair gleamed in the sunlight. Small droplets of water darkened the shoulders of his white silk shirt, which contrasted beautifully with his dark skin and hair. Two columns of tiny colored beads in various geometric patterns decorated the silk. Oh God. How could a guy be so damn sexy in jeans and a dress shirt?
As he entered the room, he scanned her up and down. A broad grin spread across his face. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart.”
Even his teeth were perfect—straight and white. “You clean up pretty nice, too,” she said, reaching for her purse. Minutes later, they were on the main road. Soft music filtered through the speakers, the notes soothing. The artist’s voice, rich and powerful, told an aboriginal story. “What are we listening to?” she asked.
“‘Riding Free’ by Joanne Shenandoah and Michael Bucher.”
“I like it. What’s the album called?”
Rémi glanced at her before answering. “Bitter Tears Sacred Ground.”
She couldn’t get away from it, could she? Even their beautiful music told the sad tale of their resentment. Not directly against her, obviously. But against everything she represented. What did Rémi see when he looked at her blonde hair and pale skin? Did he see her as a woman, or did he see her as the oppressor of his people?
Rémi groaned and turned off the CD player.
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. Turn it back on. Please.”
“You’re sure?”
“It doesn’t do me any good to hide from it.” She smiled, hoping to relieve the tension between them. “Now tell me where we’re going.”
His features softened and his lips curved up. He turned the car onto a rough country road. If she had her bearings right, it ran along the edge of the reserve, about a kilometer from its border. “See that driveway?” he asked, pointing right. “That leads to my property.”
She twisted in her seat and sat taller in the hopes of catching a glimpse of his house, but trees obscured the view. Either it was very small or too far from the road for her to see. What kind of house would he live in? Given the kilometers they’d already driven without encountering another driveway, his property had to be large enough for a castle if he wanted one. But that wasn’t his style, was it? There was nothing flashy about Rémi.
When he finally turned onto a winding driveway, she stopped craning her neck and sat back in her seat. After passing a copse of trees, Rémi stopped the car in front of an elaborate wrought iron gate made virtually opaque by the dense design. A high red brick wall stretched left and right as far as she could see. Where the heck were they going?
Rémi shrugged. “Nic likes his privacy.”
He pressed a button on the intercom/keypad combo and grinned up into a camera sitting atop the gate. A deep American-accented voice rang out. “Sure took your sweet time getting here, chief.”
“Missed me, Fabio?”
The man laughed. “Get in here, asshole. Jason’s been bouncing off the walls, waiting for you.”
Still chuckling, Rémi edged the car forward as the gate started to swing open. They drove up a long driveway made of patterned concrete pavers leading to a large three-story house with a wrap-around veranda, like something out of a movie. To the right was a stable and what appeared to be some construction work to build an addition. Along the edge of the property, a few small buildings were being erected.
“Cabins for the guards,” Rémi explained.
“Guards, a monitored gate, property surrounded by brick. Your neighbor takes his security seriously.”
“He had some recent troubles that make Fatal Attraction look like a Disney movie. And now that his fiancée and her son live here, he’s not taking any chances.” He parked next to several other vehicles. “Ready?”
When she nodded, they climbed out. Rémi opened the trunk and lifted out a large awkwardly wrapped gift. A door slammed and a brown-haired boy raced out of the house. “Rémi, you’re finally here!”
A grin spreading on his face, Rémi set the package on the hood. “Hey, Jason!”
The pair greeted each other with a complicated series of hand slaps, twists, and claps. Rémi then pulled the boy into a one-armed hug and ruffled his hair, both of them laughing.
Her attention was so caught up in their play she almost missed the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to see a tall dark-haired man with his arm around the shoulders of a short curly-haired brunette. Jason squirmed out from under Rémi’s arm and grabbed the package from Alyssa.
Rémi kissed the woman on the cheek. “Hi, Lauren. Beautiful as always.” He held his hand out to the man, who pulled him into an embrace and clapped his back.
“Thanks for coming, mon ami. We’ve missed you around here, lately.” A faint Québécois accent flavored the man’s silky voice.
“Sorry, man. Things at Blackriver have been a little crazy.” Rémi turned and tugged her forward. “Nic, Lauren, I’d like you to meet… a friend of mine, Alyssa Morgan. Alyssa this is—”
Jesus! How could she not have realized who the man was right away? She twisted and grabbed the front of Rémi’s shirt. Under her breath, she muttered, “You didn’t tell me your neighbor is Nic Lamoureux.”
He glanced at their hosts, then back down at her. “I didn’t think it would matter.” His voice was low. And perhaps a teensy-tiny bit jealous?
“Of course it matters. The man’s a freaking movie star!”
He arched a brow. “Yeah, and they like to keep things low-key.”
And here she was, acting like a star-struck fool. She let go of Rémi’s shirt and smoothed out the wrinkled material. Inhaling deeply, she turned to Nic and Lauren, a big smile pasted on her face. “Alyssa Morgan. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Sorry for acting like such an idiot. Rémi here,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs, “left out a few details when he invited me along. I hope it’s not a problem.”
Nic took her outstretched hand and kissed her knuckles. “No problem at all. A friend of Rémi’s is a friend of ours. Right, Lauren?”
“Absolutely. It’s nice to have another woman around. Rachel, Nic’s sister, and I were starting to feel outnumbered.” Lauren shook Alyssa’s hand, her grip dry and firm. Professional. This was no Hollywood starlet. Alyssa liked her immediately.
One arm wrapped around his fiancée’s waist, Nic caressed Lauren’s cheek with his free hand. The love in his eyes made Alyssa’s chest tighten. She glanced at Rémi. He was considerate and obviously wanted her, but he ran so hot and cold. It was driving her up the wall.
Nic led them to a patio at the back of the house that had been decorated for the party. A blond giant with shoulders as wide as a refrigerator manned a grill from which arose an unusual amount of smoke. Seeing the haze, Lauren growled and slipped out of Nic’s hold. “I better help Kaden before our dinner turns into charcoal.”
When she grabbed the barbeque tongs out of his hand, the man laughed and strolled over to join them. Rémi looked him up and down. “Hey, Thor. Where’s your hammer?”
“Glad you finally graced us with your presence, chief.” He had to be the bodyguard. She recognized his voice as the one from the security speaker. “Things have been quiet around here without you.” He grabbed Rémi in a bear hug, and she had to smother a laugh. Next to him, Rémi almost seemed small.
A young woman in a wheelchair rolled out of the house. Based on her hair and eye color, and the similarities in facial structure, she had to be Nic’s sister, Rachel. Behind her, a handsome young man strolled toward them. Along with Tommy. Crap. She hadn’t known he’d be here. Another detail Rémi had left out.
Music blared, interrupting her thoughts. Everyone turned to see Jason standing beside a CD player. “Let’s get this party started!” he shouted, jumping in the air.
Within minutes, the celebration was in full swing. Alyssa noticed that the man who’d arrived with Rachel and Tommy was following Lauren. With his sculpted body, boyish charm, and vulnerable appeal, he could easily be an actor or a model. Except for the hard edge in his eyes. This guy had already seen too much. Was he stalking her? “Uh, Rémi. Who’s that guy hovering around Nic’s fiancée?”
Rémi frowned and followed the direction of her gaze. “Jake, Lauren’s personal bodyguard. Dogs her everywhere.”
“Oh, good.” The Fatal Attraction situation Rémi mentioned earlier must have involved Lauren too.
Rémi scowled at her and his voice went hard. “You want an introduction?”
The low, aggressive tone sent a shiver up her back. Her scalp tingled, but not from fear. His reaction excited her. Everything about this man excited her. She touched her fingers to his jaw and shook her head. “He’s just a kid. I want a man.”
His pupils dilated. “Maybe you don’t know what you want.” He sucked in a deep breath, then tucked her arm in his. “Let me show you around.”
Rémi introduced her to a number of people, including Rachel’s nurse, Marie-Soleil, and several kids from the reserve. He also explained the presence of a dozen or so children in wheelchairs and crutches, and their parents. Nic and his sister ran a horse-therapy clinic for children with spinal cord injuries like Rachel’s. The rez kids were helping out while Rachel recovered from the broken leg that had landed her in the wheelchair.
Alyssa watched the interplay between brother and sister, her
throat aching. She’d had that kind of relationship with Andy. Even though he’d been a few years younger, they’d been best friends. She missed him so much. Getting her revenge on the Vipers had helped, but it hadn’t brought her little brother back. And in the process, she’d lost something of herself. A piece she might never get back.
While Rémi entertained the birthday boy and his friends, Alyssa filled her dinner plate and took a seat by herself at the edge of the patio.
Tommy sat down beside her. “Kids too rowdy for you?”
She shrugged. “You know how it is when you visit someone’s family for the first time? Everyone is nice and inviting, yet you feel like you’re on the outside looking in.”
Tommy took his time contemplating the group. He focused on Rémi, then Nic and Lauren, Kaden and Jake, Rachel and Jason. Strong emotions played on his face. “We’ve been through a lot together.”
“It shows.” And it surprised her. Tommy wasn’t as radical as Chaz, but his deep involvement with these people was unexpected.
“Rémi and Nic have been friends for almost ten years. They’re more like brothers really.”
That certainly hadn’t been in Rémi’s SQ file. And it probably should have been. A man with Nic’s resources would be a powerful ally. “It doesn’t bother you that they’re so close?”
“Nah. Nic’s a great guy. They helped each other through some rough times. And he understands Rémi in a way I can’t.”
“You mean because Rémi’s half-white?”
Flags of red appeared on Tommy’s cheeks, and he played with the label on his bottle. Rémi had said she needed to talk with Tommy, so when he didn’t respond, she pressed harder. “I bet Chaz isn’t too happy about this friendship.”
Tommy laughed, but the sound was far from joyful. “Fuck Chaz.”
“No thanks,” she said, shuddering.
He rubbed her shoulder. “You know that had nothing to do with you, right? Every word of that was directed at Rémi.”
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