Pierce cradled me in a hug while he brushed my tears away.
I started to explain, but that shaky, hiccup-y, crying thing took over and I couldn’t talk.
“Give it a minute, Everly. I’m not going anywhere.”
It didn’t take long for me to get a solid perspective on the situation. “She loved me. Thought she was doing the right thing, but damn it all, I miss being the dumbass innocent I used to be.
Tynan crushed me tightly in his arms. “You have me now.”
His words couldn’t heal the past, but they filled our future with promise.
I soaked up his touch, and listened to the rain pounding on the roof. “And you have me. We should probably see what my mom hid in the closet.”
Pierce relaxed his hold on me, moved back. “Love having you, Belisama. Let’s get it done and go home.”
I knelt on the floor of the closet, and ran my fingers over the seam where the wall met the floor. “There should be a indentation here that I can fit the tip of a pen or pencil point in.” I glanced up at him. “You have a pen?”
“In the office.”
Pierce left to find a pen, and I planted my hands flat on the wooden closet floor, letting sensations and images wash through me. They were all from my mother, none from Millie or Harlan. Surely they’d been aware of the hiding place.
Pierce tapped me on the shoulder with a ballpoint pen. I pressed the tip into the indentation. It was a lot like adjusting the time on my car clock. Why they designed it so the driver needed an implement for such a normal and mundane task was a mystery. And my mind was wandering, a mechanism I often used when I wanted to escape from the moment. What if there wasn’t anything hidden here?
A click, a small section of the wall slid open, and a packet tumbled into my hands.
SIXTEEN
I CAUGHT THE PACKET BEFORE it hit the floor, and images of my mom flashed across my internal monitor. The papers slipped from my hands. “It’s a dead body.”
Pierce nodded, calm. “Forensic anthropologist, right?”
I shuddered. “Yes. Guess she worked with dead bodies all the time. Horrible job. And the smell would be disgusting. I can barely handle fresh bodies. I bet this is M6342CN. Has to be, right?”
Pierce took the worn pages from my hands, and lifted me to my feet. “Could be. Home?”
I took a minute to gain my balance. “Good idea. It’s pitch black outside, so it’ll be slow-going. And we have a long night ahead to go through these papers.” I shuddered. “Besides, there’s probably critters out there.”
“Not fond of the mongoose?” He asked, leading the way downstairs.
“They’re fine, just not scampering over my feet.” I slipped outside, Pierce close behind me.
He caught my wrist. “I’ll lead. ESP vision.”
I motioned for him to move in front of me. “It’s really wet out here. That was a long and later-than-usual rainstorm. Wait up a minute, I don’t want these to get wet.” I stuffed the packet into the waistband of my cargoes. “Okay, let’s move. I want to be home now.”
Pierce set a faster pace than I’d thought possible, so I kept my hand pressed to my abdomen, holding the file in place. I didn’t want to chance losing any of the papers in my pant legs.
Thunder sounded a few times during our hike, but it was in the distance. “I hope you parents don’t have to land in a storm. Hey, you ordered a chopper for them, and the only place it can land is on the cottage roof. We should have just stayed there to wait, and damn it all, we forgot the soup.”
“I’ll bring it when I get them.” He picked up his pace.
“Hey, slow down. I can’t use Pierce-vision without closing my eyes, and that doesn’t work well if I’m moving. Could trip over a mongoose.”
He slowed, and my curiosity kicked in. “I don’t get why you’re making double trips.”
“Checking the security system. Need you at home to track the signals when I trigger the alarms.”
Of course he did. “Seems like you installed it days ago. I swear, this has been the longest day ever.”
“I’m with you on that, Belisama. House is up ahead. Wait while I clear the area.”
“Sounds good.” He had free hands, and I wasn’t about to let go of Mom’s papers, otherwise I would have mentioned that I was perfectly capable of clearing our home. I waited on the porch, watching while lights flicked on in the great room, then I turned my attention to the package, and freed it from the waistband of my cargoes. Mom’s work. In my hands. There had to be information about the formula, and how to nullify it.
Pierce opened the screen door, motioned me inside. “Need to show you the security system.”
And much to my frustration, he did precisely that—for too many long, drawn out, everlasting minutes. Minutes I could have spent sifting through Mom’s notes. Finally, he shook his head at me. “You’d have been more annoyed if I interrupted you later. This saved us a hell of an argument.”
“Yeah, it did. Besides, I need some coffee before I start working. And I needed to know what to do when you trip the alarms. Want me to make enough coffee for both of us?”
He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll do it. Skim the papers, but skip the details for now.”
The folder was screaming at me to get started, his request didn’t make sense, and my patience was frayed. “Why?” I snapped.
“Caffeine nap. Clears your head. Wakes you up.”
Crazy. “Seriously?”
“Learned the trick years ago. Go skim.”
I had to ask. “Does sex count as a nap?”
He grinned. “For us it does.”
Comfortable noise from the kitchen surrounded me as I spread the pages on the kitchen table. They were divided into three categories: a forensic study my mom had done on the cadaver labeled M6342CN, information about the history of spy dust, and some complex equations that made no sense to me whatsoever.
Pierce placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, and I inhaled deeply. “Cinnamon. Thank you. And high-five me. I was right about that code being assigned to the spy dust cadaver. Take a look at this. Do you think that dust has something to do with Mom’s formula?”
He straddled a chair, and riffled through the file. “Doubt it. The stuff isn’t toxic, just visible under the right conditions.”
I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug, absorbing its warmth. “There’s some reason my mother included him.”
Pierce blew on his coffee, sipped, then set the pages aside, and headed for the refrigerator. He grabbed a handful of ice cubes and plunked them in our mugs.
“You in a hurry to end this coffee klatch?”
“Damn straight.” He tapped the papers. I’m not seeing anything new here, but these equations are complex. Know any molecular botanists?”
I drained half a mug of cooled-down coffee while I rummaged through my memory. “Nope. Not a single one of my former clients were botanists, much less molecular ones. Looks like I have some studying to do.”
He thumbed through the pages of equations, placing them facedown on the table, stopped at the last one. “You see this?”
I set my mug aside, took the sheet of paper, and read. “Variegation in gene expression is related to transposable elements or jumping genes. The variegation can be controlled with timing. Jumping genes are inactive in dividing cells, but highly active in later development.” I peered at him over the edge of the paper. “What do you suppose that means?”
“Sounds like the plants have to be older than seedlings before they’re active, but I’m not a geneticist.” He downed the rest of his coffee, carried our mugs to the kitchen, and rinsed them.
I stood, stretched, and headed for the sun porch by way of the bathroom. I wanted to tidy up before we took our nap, and maybe grab an extra condom.
But Pierce had other ideas. He joined me in the shower, held me, cherished me. The water was warm, but I couldn’t stop shivering, not with his hands skimming my body, his lips finding every erog
enous zone on my sensitized skin.
I trailed my hand over his chest, wet, and slippery with the soap I’d lathered on my body. His belly tightened at my touch. “You’re mine. I need you, Belisama, fast and hard.”
“I really love you,” I whispered fiercely, and wrapped my legs around his waist. The violent thud of his heart against my chest, matched mine, beat for beat. Pierce was right. Hard. Fast. We craved the loving, wild, violence that burned in our souls.
He pressed my back against the shower wall. “Love. You.” His hands raced roughly over my shoulders, and arms while he claimed my mouth with the intensity of a warrior starving for love. Affection.
I said it again, “I. Love. You.” And I punctuated each word with love bites I couldn’t control, not when he’d found my core. It was a living thing, swirling, twisting, demanding every part of me. I gave. And demanded in return. The power and depth of what we shared spread through us in shock waves of sweetness that lasted until the water ran cold.
Pierce shut the water off, and then slid me down the front of him, both of us reluctant to separate.
He kissed me, tender and gentle, the exact opposite of the intensity that still left us breathless, and we stood there in deep, silent communication until his phone buzzed.
“Damn thing,” he whispered in my ear before he stepped out of the shower, answered it, and started dragging his clothes on over damp skin.
I grabbed a towel, and knocked the sealed condom package onto the floor. “Oh, shit. No protection.”
Pierce ended the phone call with a single word, scooped the condom off the floor, and waited, eyebrows hiked.
Frantic, I counted days in my head, once, twice, then breathed a sigh of relief. “We’re good. Timing is off.”
He brushed my jaw with his knuckles, love shining in those gorgeous blue eyes. “Whatever. We’ll deal. Together.”
My heart swelled, and it took a minute before I could breathe. I turned my head, kissing his palm. “There are no words to tell you how much I love you. And I don’t regret a second of what we just shared, condom or not.”
He brought my hand to his lips, returned the palm-kiss. “Agreed. Let’s not do it again…”
I helped him get the words out. “Until we plan to make a baby?”
“Yeah. That.” He nodded at his phone. “Parents are fifteen minutes out. Need to take off. You ready to monitor the alarms?”
“Yes, sir. Clipboard, list of the alarms you’re going to trigger, and a pen are on the kitchen counter. I do need some clothes though.”
He ogled my body, and gave me a lascivious wink. “Not on my account.”
Heat spread over my chest, up my neck, and into my cheeks. “Parents.” The single word about choked me. “My pseudo in-laws will be here soon.”
“Uh-huh. You can handle it, Hot Shot. Later.”
And he was gone. I stood in front of the mirror, stuck my tongue out at myself. “Get a grip Everly Gray Hunt. You love Siofra and Lorcán.” My words sounded hollow. I tried again. “You handled Jayne. This will be easy.” No go. One more time. “Siofra and Lorcán love you.” I grinned at myself. That worked.
I dressed in a long skirt and tank top, left my wet hair loose to dry, and put on some dangly earrings. Pierce would bring the soup back with his parents, so I didn’t have to do anything but monitor the alarms, and heat the soup after they got here. Right. I could do this, no problem.
Snagging the clipboard off the counter, I planted myself in front of the security monitor and stared making notes while Pierce tripped the alarms. The good thing: they all worked perfectly. The bad thing: it was a slow, painstaking process, and I had way too much time to think…and fret.
After the last alarm had been catalogued, I paced, so focused on counting steps that it startled the heck out of me when they walked in the door, juggling suitcases, laughing, happy, totally comfortable. I smiled, brittle. What the hell was wrong with me?
Siofra spotted me, set the pot of soup on the floor, covered the distance between us in three fast strides, and wrapped me in a hug. “I’m so very happy to see you, Daughter.”
And everything in my world righted itself. There was no power on earth like a mother’s hug.
Lorcán, being the size of a sturdy tree, gathered both of us into his arms. “Daughter of mine,” he whispered in my ear.
Make that no power on earth like a father’s whisper.
“That’s my woman you’re mauling.” Laughter mixed with a gentle warning in Tynan’s voice.
Lorcán slapped him on the back. “And ár n-iníon. Where do you want this luggage?”
My eyes opened wide, and I pointed an unsteady finger down the hallway. I seriously had to learn Gaelic. “Wow. How’d you carry all that from the plane?” And then I noticed that both Pierce and Lorcán were covered in a layer of glistening sweat. My heart picked up to a frantic beat. “You’re moving in with us?”
Siofra shrugged. “Aon. But necessities. I have a hand-fasting to plan.”
Panic flared, hollowing my insides. “Hand-fasting?” Pierce had said something about that.
My almost mother-in-law patted my arm. “Of course, dear. Your soul merged with my son’s when you visited Tuatha Dé Danann. We’ll figure out that formula of do mháthair’s well before the ceremony. I’m sure of it.”
My muscles wilted. Merged souls. Siofra got that right, but I wasn’t so sure about nullifying the formula that quickly. I shot a sideways glance at the folders, sitting so innocently on the coffee table. “I hope so. There’s a lot riding on it.”
She winked at me. “Together we are formidable. Now let’s heat that soup and make some plans.”
Pierce picked up the pot, carried it to the stove, and then came back into the living area and laid a scrumptious kiss on my mouth. “You look sexy as hell.”
It was exactly what I needed to hear. “I’ll just go repossess my kitchen before Siofra gets too far ahead of me in her plans. Your mamma moves like wildfire.”
Lorcán let out a belly laugh. “And you haven’t seen the best of it, Daughter.” He turned to Pierce. “Show me where this luggage goes while the women establish kitchen rights.”
They headed down the hall, loaded like pack mules. I shook my head, readjusting my brain cells. Time to get to work. I hustled to the kitchen area, and got bowls out of the cupboard. “I’m glad you’re here, Siofra. Grateful for your help.”
She lowered the heat under the soup, gave it one last stir, and faced me. “You’re our family now, mo iníon. Where else would we be?”
Thank goodness it was a rhetorical question. She cared about me, and the truth of her feelings rang through every word. It was scary, thrilling, and left me at a loss. I honestly wasn’t sure what to do with…parents. And when Siofra called me her daughter in Gaelic, it turned me inside out.
We sat around the table, steaming bowls of fragrant soup filling the kitchen with the scent of tomatoes and basil. Siofra and Lorcán had papers strewed between them, reading intently between bites of food. Siofra caught my eye. “Your máthair made excellent notes. It would be helpful to have a sample of this spy dust she mentions.”
I zeroed in on Pierce. “Can we do that?”
“It’ll take planning, unless you can convince Fred to hand some over.” There was doubt in his eyes. “It’s not about the spy dust.”
Annoyance, or maybe it was fear, skittered through my nerves. “Yet another reason for me to work with him, so I can learn what it is about. And since we’re ninety-nine percent sure he has Millie and Harlan, it would give me an opportunity to…bargain. He wants my fingers. How about I offer an exchange? One week of borrowing my ESP fingers in exchange for an intense training session—and I get to bring Millie and Harlan home with me.”
Pierce glared. “Not liking it. Team’s working on the extraction. Should be successful in twenty-four hours.”
It didn’t surprise me that Pierce had that issue under control because I’d overheard him give the orders, which i
s why I hadn’t been panicking about their safety. And why I hadn’t bugged him with a ton of suggestions about us chasing Fred down. But now we had a different problem. “If Siofra thinks we need some spy dust, then we need it.” Something about the way her forehead wrinkled and how her lips moved while she was reading left no question in my mind that we needed some spy dust. It reminded me of… “You have the same intense expression my mother had when she was working.”
Siofra smiled. “We probably share the same affinity for plants, but I won’t be able to use these equations. I only have intuitive training on how to work with them, nothing scholarly. And Pierce is right. We don’t need the dust.” She shoved back her chair, stood, gathered our empty bowls, and carried them to the sink. “We’ll get started first thing in the morning. Does that suit you, Everly?”
It did. We said our goodnights, and they strolled, hand-in-hand, upstairs toward their suite of rooms. Pierce and I stood watching them until we heard their door close with a definite click. I stretched up, and kissed his cheek. “Makani designed our home well to accommodate visiting in-laws.”
I caught a glimpse of a mischievous grin before he tossed me over his shoulder and carried me toward our sun porch. “We need to talk.”
SEVENTEEN
TYNAN AILILL PIERCE WANTED TO talk? Not that we didn’t need to communicate My insides had been shooting off warning signals all through the supper we shared with Lorcán and Siofra. And the Fred issue was hanging heavy between us.
Pierce passed through the sun porch, and kept walking until we reached our pool. In silent agreement, we shed our clothes, slipped into the warm water, and held each other. Desperately.
I breathed in his scent, drawing strength from the familiarity, from the love I’d come to associate with it. “We need to prioritize assignments. I have to work with Siofra on my mother’s formula. I’m the only one with DNA close to hers, and I think that might be critical to isolate the formula. You are the only one with contacts in the “other world” who could put a name to the Ghost Guy who searched Millie and Harlan’s cottage. One of us should be here at all times to monitor activity, and to protect your parents. Which leaves Fred. You’re going to take over protection detail here and let me work for him, aren’t you?”
a Touch of Intrigue Page 13