Behind Closed Doors (The Mccloud Series Book 1)

by Shannon McKenna

  It hurt that she could not recall that final farewell. It should be indelibly stamped on her memory, but it seemed to have been scribbled over with heavy black ink instead. All she felt was anxiety, edging closer and closer to panic. It was going to be hard to fake being nonchalant and professional today. After years of stifling inaction, everything was happening at once. She was changing so quickly she barely knew herself from one moment to the next.

  That made her think of Seth’s early morning visit and her own wild, uninhibited response. Naked and sweating and straining beneath him in the backseat of his car. Screaming her pleasure right out loud. Oh, yes, she was changing, all right, at the speed of light. Heat suffused her face. She turned it to the icy cold breeze to cool it.

  “Good morning,” someone said.

  She spun, startled. A handsome, stylish blond man in his late thirties was looking her over with obvious masculine interest, his eyes hidden by mirrored sunglasses. He smiled. Raine smiled back, wondering if she ought to recognize him from somewhere. He had deep dimples, a winsome, charming smile. She would surely have remembered him, if she had seen him before.

  Seconds ticked past. Raine could think of absolutely nothing to say to him. He continued to stare, and his smile was objectively attractive; but he emanated a strange energy, like nothing so much as a sound shield of white noise in a psychiatrist’s waiting room. She could barely hear herself think over the static.

  The man moved closer to her, and for no reason, she thought of Medusa, the mythical snake-haired woman whose gaze turned men to stone. He was closer now. Too close. She could see her own reflection in the lenses of his glasses. Her eyes looked big and frightened.

  The corners of his narrow, ascetic mouth tilted slightly up. She was intimidated, and he seemed to like it.

  Anger flared inside her, but the interchange was too small and too subtle to protest. Without saying a word the hateful bastard had made her feel like prey. “Excuse me,” she murmured, backing away.

  “Wait, please. Have we met?” His voice was friendly, the faint European cadence impossible to place.

  She shook her head, frozen in place. “I don’t think so.”

  Idiot, she told herself, furious. Miss Nicey Nice just gave him an opening and made her sound doubtful and vulnerable. Cheep, cheep, cheep, said the fluffy baby bird, as the snake stretched open its jaws.

  “You work for Lazar Import & Export, no?”

  That, too, was an unpleasant shock. He knew too much already. “Yes,” she said. She backed away farther.

  He followed her, undaunted. “That explains it. I have done business with your employer in the past. Surely I have seen you. Parties at the island. Or meetings, receptions.” He grinned. His teeth were white and straight. Unnaturally perfect, like a cartoon character’s.

  “I’ve only worked for Lazar for a few weeks,” she said. “I’ve never attended any corporate social gatherings.”

  “I see,” he murmured. “How odd. I have the strongest feeling that I have seen you before. May I offer you breakfast?”

  “Thank you, no. I’m catching a boat in a few minutes.”

  “For Stone Island, I presume,” he said. “Allow me to escort you in my boat. It will be much faster. In this way, I can do Victor a favor and at the same time have the pleasure of your company at breakfast.”

  Her programmed impulse was to smile politely and offer some stammering excuse. She stopped herself, took a deep, calming breath, and jammed the program. “No,” she said.

  “May I see you again some other time?”

  “No,” she repeated stupidly.

  He took off his sunglasses. His eyes had dark, purplish shadows around them that set off their jade green color with a weird intensity. “Forgive me if I embarrassed you,” he said. “I am often too forward when I see something I want. I take it you are not, ah, free?”

  “That’s right,” she said. “I’m not free.” She hadn’t been free from the first breathless moment that Seth Mackey had fixed her in his hungry gaze in the elevator. Only two days ago, and it felt like forever.

  But she would never be free for this man. Under any circumstances. Not in this lifetime, or the next.

  “I am desolate,” he said softly.

  Miss Nicey Nice smiled before she could block her automatic smile muscles. The catamaran was arriving. She glanced at it, counting the seconds until she could escape this man’s vicinity.

  “Would you be so good as to give your employer a message?”

  “Of course,” she said politely.

  His gaze swept her, from head to toes and slowly back up again. “Tell him the opening bid has just doubled. Those exact words.”

  She felt like an animal frozen in the headlights of an oncoming car. “May I tell him who the message is from?” she asked faintly.

  He reached out and touched her face. She jerked back with a gasp, her eyes focusing on his outstretched hand. The last joint of his index finger was missing. He had touched her with the scarred stump.

  “He will know,” the man said softly. “Count upon it.”

  There was a glint in his jade-colored eyes, like a flash of ancient glacial ice. He gave her a cold, unfathomably remote smile and strolled away. She stared after him, frozen into place.

  If she’d known Seth’s phone number, she would have rushed out, bought herself a cell phone, and dialed it. Just hearing his gruff voice would make her feel safer. Even if he yelled at her again, it would be comforting. But she was on her own.

  The noise of the people disembarking jarred her back into reality. She hastened down to board the boat. Why was she so intimidated by a stranger indulging in a harmless flirtation? There was nothing so terribly sinister about the encounter. She was imagining things.

  Calm reason did not bring the butterflies in her stomach into line. The opening bid has just doubled. What could it mean?

  Nothing good, of that she was absolutely sure.

  She swallowed hard and turned her face to the cold wind again. Being Seth Mackey’s mistress had never sounded so good.

  Chapter 11

  “Rise and shine, dude.”

  Seth’s arms jerked up, shielding his face. He dropped them, muttering a disgusted curse when he saw what he’d done.

  Not since his early Army days had he woken up flinching away from a blow. He focused on Connor McCloud, holding out a steaming cup. “What the hell?”

  “Whoa. Aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine today.”

  Seth swung his booted feet to the floor and grabbed the coffee. McCloud’s penetrating stare was making him uncomfortable. He hated being studied like a rare bug.

  “That couch is not long enough for you,” McCloud commented. “Use the bed, for Christ’s sake. Is Lazar still out at the island?”

  Seth glanced at his watch. “Forty minutes ago he was.”

  Connor stuck his hands in his pockets. His eyes were worried. “You keeping it together? You look like shit.”

  Seth gave him a freezing stare. “I’m fine.”

  Connor shrugged. “Just checking. Just wanted to let you know that your video Barbie is headed out to Stone Island too.”

  Scalding coffee splashed over Seth’s hand and sprayed across the floor as he lunged for the computer. “Where is she now?”

  “Hey. Relax. My guy at the parking garage told me the limo was headed for the marina. He overheard the Lazar staff that left an hour before bitching about the blonde being late and missing the ferry. That’s how he knew. I just got the call about ten minutes ago.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you call me then?”

  “I was already on my way,” Connor’s voice was calm, but steely. “You planted vidcams at the marina, right? So settle down. Open them up. Let’s see if she’s still there.”

  Seth typed feverishly into the computer, flipping the marina vidcam windows open one after another until he finally found her, almost out of range, hanging over the railing of the deck that overlooked the marina. The w
ind had tugged some long, wispy curls out of her braid. The camera caught her delicate profile, gazing out into the infinite sky like an ad for expensive perfume. She fished a tissue out of her pocket, wiped rain off the lenses of her glasses, put them back on.

  “Come on, man. It was inevitable,” Connor said. “Lazar had to want a piece of that sooner or later.”

  “Shut up and let me concentrate,” Seth snarled. He rested his elbows on the desk and dug his fingers into his hair, calculating the time it would take to get down to the marina to stop her. But she’d refused to be rescued last night. Why would she change her mind now? He rubbed the grit out of his eyes, and grappled with senseless panic.

  “Hey. Seth. Check out the guy in the trench coat.”

  Seth jerked his attention back to the screen. He wished his body would stop pumping him full of useless adrenaline. Pure torture, being all jacked up and revving, with no saber-toothed tiger to grapple with, no river of molten lava to run like hell from. Just a computer screen to stare into, with mounting horror and disbelief.

  “Holy shit. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” For the first time ever, Connor’s voice was totally devoid of irony.

  “No way,” Seth said.

  “Way.” Connor scooted closer to the screen. “The face is different, yeah. He’s had surgery, someone really good. But his vibe gives him away. He oozes slime.”

  “This guy’s taller. Thinner. And the hairline is different from Jesse’s video footage,” Seth countered.

  “So he’s wearing lifts, lost weight and shaved his temples.”

  Raine backed away. The man advanced with a predatory jackal’s smile. Seth leaped to his feet, skin crawling. “I’m going down there.”

  “You’re too far.” McCloud’s voice was flat and matter-of-fact. “Sean and Davy are both closer than we are. Besides, he’s probably got six bodyguards armed to the teeth covering him.”

  Seth’s fist slammed down, making the keyboard leap and rattle.

  “You were the one who pushed for the cold, patient approach, man,” Connor reminded him. “Calm down. Look at him. He’s feeling confident, flirting with her, letting the whole world get a good, long look at his new face. He’s getting cocky. This is good news.”

  “Good news? What’s good about it? She’s there, he’s there, we’re here. This is not good news. This is fucked!”

  Connor dropped into a chair and stared at the screen. “I could call the Cave,” he said slowly. “Nick lives down near the marina. I trust Nick. They’re the cavalry, Seth. If we can’t call them, we can’t do shit.”

  “Brilliant,” Seth snarled. “The last time you called the Cave, my brother was slaughtered and you spent eight weeks in a coma.”

  Connor’s haunted eyes slid away from Seth’s. “I don’t get it. Those guys are my friends. We’ve risked our lives for each other.”

  Seth’s fingers danced over the keys, opening a new window as Raine backed out of range. “Shut up, McCloud,” he muttered. “You’re making me cry.”

  The mystery guy lifted his hand to her face. Raine flinched, and they both stopped breathing, noticing the missing last joint on the index finger. Proof positive.

  “He’s ditched the prosthetic,” Connor whispered. “Arrogant prick.”

  Seth shook his head. “He just took it off to creep her out.”

  “It worked,” Connor said.

  Seth flipped open the other windows one by one, following Novak until he walked out of range and disappeared.

  The group of people getting off the catamaran climbed up the stairs to the deck, hustling past Raine. She stood there as if hypnotized. Someone jostled her, and she jumped, looking around like a bewildered, lost little girl. She hurried down the stairs to the dock.

  “The day’s got off to a hell of a start for your girl,” Connor commented. “Off to the island to service Lazar, all cuddly and tight with Novak. Who knows what else the day will hold?”

  Seth ignored him. He fought off nausea as he watched the catamaran pull away from the dock. Moving away, getting smaller. No stopping her now.

  “…yo, Seth. Anybody home? You in there?”

  “Huh?” He swung his focus back to McCloud’s frowning face.

  “I was just saying that this could be an interesting slant. If Novak is interested in her, which he obviously is, and who can blame him, then we’ve got another lead. Maybe one of us should ask her out. Find out what she knows. Plant a transmitter on her. Excellent, huh?”

  “She doesn’t know anything,” Seth growled.

  “You don’t know that. I’d even give her a try myself.”

  Seth spun around so fast he knocked the mouse off the desk.

  “You have first refusal, of course,” Connor added hastily. “I know you’ve had your eye on her, but if you don’t have the heart for it, I could shave and comb my hair and give her a whirl. No hardship. She’s hot.”

  “McCloud—”

  “Or I could pass her on to Sean,” Connor said thoughtfully. “He’s better-looking than me, and he likes juicy blondes with great tits as much as the next guy. I don’t think Sean’s ever fucked information out of a woman before, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.”

  Something snapped. Everything got weird and faraway, as if there were a blood-red filter across his eyes. Space and time distorted. He flew through the air in slow motion, slamming into Connor. He knocked him off the chair, onto the floor. Electronic equipment crashed down with them. His hands were around Connor’s corded throat, squeezing. Connor’s hands were jammed against his own jaw. He was talking, his voice thick and strained. The words began to register.

  “D—don’t, Seth. Don’t do it. Chill, man. You don’t want to get into it with me. Big waste of time and energy for us both. St—stop.”

  The red haze subsided. Connor’s face emerged through it, slowly. Strained, but controlled. Squinting. Watching him like a hawk.

  Seth forced himself to relax and let go. He rolled up into a sitting position and dropped his face into his shaking hands.

  Connor dragged himself upright. “I think you threw my back out,” he said. “And you’ve wrecked some of your gizmos.”

  Seth didn’t even look up. “I’ll fix them,” he said dully.

  “Oh, thanks for your concern. Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll be fine.”

  Seth’s hands dropped. He stared down at the dingy gray carpet. He groaned and covered his face with his hands again.

  “You’ve had her already, haven’t you?” Connor demanded. “You sneaky son-of-a-bitch. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Seth met his eyes, and looked away quickly.

  “Aw, shit.” Connor flopped back down onto the floor. He shoved back the tangled mass of hair that had fallen across his thin face and stared up at the ceiling. “Look, if you want out, just say so. Take her off to a desert island. Do whatever it is you do with her, I don’t give a flying fuck. Just stop screwing with my investigation.”

  “It’s our investigation, McCloud, and I haven’t screwed anything.”

  “Nah, just Lazar’s mistress,” Connor spat back. “If that’s not screwing with the investigation, then—”

  “She’s not his mistress. Lazar offered her to me. She knows jack shit, so don’t push me. You won’t be able to talk me down a second time.”

  Connor jerked up onto his elbows. His astonishment was satisfying, but he had good recovery time. “I wouldn’t bother,” he snapped. “I’d just proceed directly to beating the living shit out of you.”

  Seth’s hands clenched into fists. “Like hell.”

  “Then you’d have a big macho ego crisis about being flattened by a guy with a cane. Fucking pathetic. I want to spare you that, you know? Being as how you’re such a sad, sorry son-of-a-bitch already.”

  Seth stared at him for a long moment, and then looked down. He suppressed a snort of reluctant laughter.

  Connor scooted on his ass across the floor to retrieve his cane, and struggled to his f
eet. “Let’s beat our chests some other time. When all this is over, we’ll do some sparring. Find out whose balls are bigger and hairier. Until then, peace. Deal?” He held out his hand.

  Seth got to his feet. He reached out and gripped Connor’s scarred hand. “I’m holding you to that.”

  The two men stared at each other for a long moment.

  “You were deliberately messing with my head, weren’t you?” Seth asked. “Don’t do that again, McCloud.”

  “I wanted to see how far out of your mind you really were,” Connor said coolly. “I feared the worst, but this is worse than the worst. You’re not just obsessed. You’re in love.”

  “Bullshit,” Seth growled.

  “Is it? Whew.” Connor mimed wiping the sweat away from his brow. “You don’t mind if we use her as bait then, right?”

  “Do not get anywhere near her. Do not factor her into your plans, do not even think about her, McCloud. She is out of the game. Got it?”

  “Get real,” Connor said sagely. “She’s out at the island with Lazar. She’s chatting up Novak. And now she’s screwing you. How much more in the game can she be?”

  Seth shook his head, feeling hunted and desperate. “She’s out of it,” he repeated.

  “Hey. Take it easy,” Connor said gently. He brushed the grit from his jeans and shook his head, letting out a muffled crack of laughter. “What a joke,” he muttered. “Why should I feel sorry for you? You’re the one who just got laid. We’ll see how far out of it she is when we hear what Novak said to her. The gulpers at the marina caught it, right?”

  Sean clenched his teeth. “Yeah.”

  “Good. Go get it, then. And, uh…how long has it been since you’ve showered and shaved? You look like a derelict, man. You skulk around the marina looking like that, you’ll get arrested for vagrancy.”

  “Fuck off, McCloud,” Seth said wearily.

  Connor swatted him on the shoulder with a grin. “That’s my boy.”