"I'm trying not to hate you right now."
He picked up the tea mug and drank, unsuccessfully hiding his grin. "You liked the idea this morning."
"In the after-sex glow! Inez? Do you have any idea what you've let yourself in for? She'll put on the event of the year. She'll have you in a tux and top hat."
He openly smirked. "It's a beach wedding. She'll have you in a bikini." He leered and wriggled his eyebrows. "I'll be in board shorts. We'll both be barefoot."
"Dream on, my man. Inez is going to knock your socks off all right, but it won't be anything like you think."
The smile faded to be replaced by a small frown. "I'll have a little chat with her."
"You've had enough little chats with her. I'll be talking to Inez." She gave an indignant sniff.
"We're getting married, Elle, and I don't much give a damn if we do it here with the dog as our witness or in front of the entire world, but it's getting done. So get your birth certificate and have it ready. We're getting the license."
She rolled her eyes. "I see big bad Jackson needs another lesson. You need to be taken down a peg or two."
"Just how do you think a little girl like you can manage that?" he challenged.
A wicked, sexy smile curved her mouth. She let her gaze drift speculatively over his face, down his chest to disappear lower. "I could crawl under the table while you're eating your breakfast and see who's boss."
She licked her lips, a slow swipe of her tongue that had his cock jerking to instant attention. He eased his body in the tight jeans, trying to get comfortable with a raging hard-on. The sultry look on her face wasn't helping. For an instant, he caught the erotic vision in her head--Elle sliding from her chair and crawling on her hands and knees beneath the table, slowly opening his zipper and taking his engorged shaft into her talented, eager mouth.
Elle was looking right into his eyes. She ran her tongue along her teeth, leaning toward him across the table, letting him see her smirk. "My sisters are here. Would you mind getting the door while I clear the table and put the dishes in the sink?" Her voice dripped with innocence.
He caught her hand as she rose gracefully and pulled her to his side. "You think you're going to get away with that?" His mouth nuzzled her breast, his hand cupping her mound through her jeans. "They have to leave sometime and then you aren't going to be so safe."
She laughed softly, a clear taunt, knowing full well she'd gotten the best of him. He watched her hips sway as she picked up their plates and walked to the sink. She made anywhere she was home. And she made him feel alive. He carried the tea mugs and came up behind her, trapping her body between his and the sink, setting the mugs behind her so he could cage her in.
Elle looked up at him and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. And then he kissed her. Her taste was addictive. Her mouth sweet and hot and as hungry as his own. She stretched up to circle his neck with her arms, opening her mouth to his, tongue dancing with his, stroking and caressing and making love, long kisses that went on forever until the pounding on the door brought them both back to reality.
"It's a good thing you're letting your beard grow. My face would be hacked up. I have sensitive skin. I won't be able to kiss you if you shave again."
He kept his hands on her waist, holding her still. "I'll have to quit my job. I can't have a job as a sheriff unless I can go undercover. That's why I was grew this." He rubbed the light beard.
"You look like a gruff old mountain man."
"Mean." He sounded pleased. "Jackson the badass."
She rubbed her hand over the front of his jeans. "Jackson in trouble."
He put her firmly away from him and forced his body under control so he could walk to the front door without every step being painful. There was a congregation on his front porch. Bomber tilted his head to give him a look.
"Yeah, you let her signal you not to bark. Whose side are you on?" He glared at his dog, the traitor, and opened the door wide to let Elle's family in.
All of them. The entire Drake family. Sarah with Damon. He really liked Damon, the quietest among them and probably the most brilliant, although Tyson, Libby's fiance, was in the running for that title as well. Damon was older and much more settled. He had a calming influence on everyone, never saying much, but when he did, they all listened.
Jackson had a fondness for Sarah. The oldest of the Drake sisters, she really looked out for her sisters--and everyone else. Sarah had a good head on her shoulders. He felt her touch Elle's mind, the lightest of brushes and something inside her stilled. She squeezed Damon's hand and smiled before flicking Jackson a quick look. He knew she was very aware he and Elle had made love. Sarah leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.
"Thank you, Jackson. She feels happy," Sarah whispered.
He glanced back at Elle and was surprised she wasn't in the room yet. Sarah meant they could feel the difference in her and he realized he could as well. Her spirit was lighter. Stronger. Elle had come back to them. All of her sisters were looking at him with stars in their eyes. He squirmed under the affectionate gazes, unused to being the center of attention.
"How are you, Abbey?" He turned to his partner in crime, avoiding Aleksandr's glare. The man had an arm wrapped tightly around his woman's waist and didn't look as if he'd be letting go for a long while.
"In trouble. Aleksandr is worse than the shark." She winked at him. "Mostly bruises. Some stitches."
"Infection," Aleksandr snapped.
Abbey made a face. "I had intravenous antibiotics last night and Libby's helping so I'll be fine. The dolphins are alive and that's what counts. Thank you for helping me last night."
Libby stepped in with Tyson. Her large eyes searched his face and something in her seemed to settle. "Inez called Sarah this morning."
Jackson couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face. He felt the impact the moment Elle walked into the room. She took his breath and stole his heart. He just stood there like an idiot with a big silly grin on his face and nothing at all to say. She walked to him looking like a queen. Head up. Regal. Her long red hair spilling down her back. Her eyes on his. His stomach tightened. She fit right under his shoulder, her arm slipping around his waist, standing with him at the door as her family came inside their home.
He felt like a goof, not mean and badass, so happy about such a dumb little thing, but still, no one knew but him. Elle looked up at him. He sighed. Okay. No one knew how big of an idiot she could make him but her, and he could live with that. He felt her smile. In his mind. In his heart. And it warmed him.
Kate came in with Matt. He tightened his hand on Elle's shoulder. Kate looked strong and well rested, serene as always. She could bring calm to the stormiest situation. She sent him one of her special smiles and he felt included in her small circle. Matt had served with him, trained with him, helped him rescue Elle, never once hesitating. Jackson couldn't help feeling a little guilty that he was going to ask Kate to do something so dangerous. As if reading his thoughts, or just reading his body language, Kate reached out a hand and laid it gently on his arm. At once he felt at peace. He smiled his thanks when she nodded and moved into his living room.
Hannah came in. He loved Hannah. It was that simple. There was something elegant and charming and sweet about Hannah. And she belonged to Jonas and she would pretty much walk through fire for Jonas. Hannah hugged him. She had always hugged him and he knew she didn't touch too many people so he'd always felt privileged and a little humbled by her acceptance of him.
He kissed her on the cheek. "How are you feeling, honey?"
"Aside from Jonas hovering over me and me throwing up constantly on account of this . . ." She rubbed her hand over her small baby bump. "I'm fine. Do you mind if I make a few cookies to go with our tea? If we're going to do another healing session with Elle, we might need a little extra sugar."
"The kitchen's all yours." Hannah made everything taste a little bit better.
She puts love into everything.
&nb
sp; "Damn it, Elle. Will you knock that off?" Jackson snapped. "You're so fu . . ." He trailed off with all the sisters looking at him. "You're hardheaded."
She laughed, damn her, not in the least afraid of his wrath. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Jonas shaking his head and mouthing words at him that looked suspiciously like "whipped." Behind Elle's back he gave him the finger. Jonas just laughed at him.
Joley came in last with Ilya towering over her. She instantly brought energy and brightness to the room. She was like quicksilver and Jackson was a little astonished that Ilya had actually managed to get her to agree to marry him. He figured the ceremony had better take place soon. She, like Hannah, was pregnant.
"I like your house," Joley said.
"Wait until you see his piano," Elle answered smugly.
The shocked silence hurt his ears. He could tell they were red-tipped and burning. You treacherous wench. You're paying for that later.
Elle laughed out loud. "He's amazing on the piano. Joley, you have to have him play the songs he's written. They're amazing pieces."
"You compose?" Joley asked, obviously interested.
She loved anything at all to do with music and Jackson could see it was going to take a lot to slow her down now. He cleared his throat several times. "She's exaggerating. I tinker with it a little bit, nothing special."
"You play the piano?" Jonas demanded as if it was a sin.
Jackson leaned down, lifted Elle's hair away from her neck and bit her. She yelped and he soothed the bite with his tongue. Get me out of this.
She glared at him and rubbed her neck.
"Where'd you learn?" Sarah asked.
Desperately he took Elle's hand and bit down on her finger, then sucked it into his mouth, his tongue moving over the small sting. She yanked her hand away. You're very oral, aren't you?
It was a sign of his desperation that he didn't even reprimand her. "My mother taught me when I was boy," he admitted, blurting it out.
Elle took pity on him. Jackson didn't like to talk about his family or childhood. She flashed a smile at Libby. "I thought maybe if you all were willing you could work another healing session on me--everyone but Kate--and then Kate could try to work on my talent." She looked at Sarah. "Or do you think it should be the other way around, Kate first, just in case anything goes wrong?"
"Wrong how?" Matt asked.
As distractions went, it was a good one, Jackson decided as he settled into an armchair with Elle flopping gracefully at his feet. The Drake sisters liked to sit together on the floor. He'd discovered that a few years earlier when he'd first met them.
"I don't know, Matt," Elle answered honestly, leaning her head back against Jackson's chair, "but I don't want to take any chances with Kate."
Kate lifted her chin. "I know I can do it, Elle."
Before Matt could object, Sarah leaned forward and laid her hand on Kate's knee. "Of course you can, Katie, no one doubts that. But at what cost? I think that's both Elle's and Matt's question and a legitimate one. We can't risk you, especially now."
"I could do a controlled healing," Kate offered. "I would do a single layer at a time. Depending how much damage there is, it would work, but it would be over time--days. I'd have to work on you every day, Elle."
"Is there a risk to you, Kate?" Matt asked directly.
"There's always a bit of a risk," Kate admitted. "You see us after we work. We're drained. Libby has taken a lot on herself and it can be harmful. She has to be careful and I'm guessing I'll have to do the same. But healing Elle is not only worth the risk, I think, given what is happening here, it's one we all have to take."
The scent of freshly baking cookies filled the air. Jackson turned his head toward the kitchen. Hannah smiled at him from the doorway. As much as Kate could keep everything peaceful, Hannah seemed to add a touch of home, of comfort to the atmosphere. He realized his home felt like the Drake home. He'd always gone into their house and come out different, with a sense of a family and love. He wasn't certain if it was their deep faith in God, their magic, or the family itself, but they lived the way others dreamed of living--the way he was determined to live.
Elle reached back and took his hand. "I'm going to call Dane." She had to before she lost her nerve. There, with her family surrounding her and the smell of cookies and the teakettle whistling, everything seemed normal. She could call, promise her report and be done with it. One more thing out of the way. She was taking baby steps, but she was emerging from that place of terror she'd been living in for so long.
Jackson's music room, his home filled with her family, all made her feel strong again. She'd made Stavros into an invincible monster. She wouldn't underestimate him, but she wasn't going to be so afraid that she was paralyzed, afraid to live anymore. She looked at Jackson, knowing he disapproved.
"Please understand. I have to do this, Jackson. I need to. For myself. For all those women out there who don't have a family that can rescue them. Afterward, Kate can try her thing and if everything goes right, my sisters can work on healing me again." She showed him her arms, pushing up her sleeves. "See how much better I am?"
He swallowed. A muscle ticked in his jaw and then he nodded his head--barely.
"Is this a blocked number, because I don't get cell phone service here."
He nodded again, his mouth tightening.
It took a few minutes for Elle to make the international call to Dane's private cell phone. She was the only one with that particular number. Elle drummed her fingers on the tabletop as she waited for Dane to answer the phone, carefully avoiding Jackson's frown.
"Hello, Sheena," Stavros's voice purred. "Are you looking for your late, lamented boss?"
16
ELLE'Sblood ran cold. Every vestige of color drained from her face. For a moment she couldn't breathe, fighting for air. Her entire body cringed at the sound of that velvet, taunting purr. Instinctively she reached out to Jackson, throwing out her other hand while her fingers clutched the receiver to her ear.
"Poor Dane couldn't endure. He's rather dead right now. Perhaps you'd like to talk to me instead."
Jackson reached around her without a word and depressed the phone with his finger, cutting off the contact. Elle dropped the receiver and buried her face in his lap. He put both hands over her head protectively. He'd been in her mind. He knew what those chilling words had done to her--destroyed every bit of confidence she'd begun to build in herself again.
He stroked her hair, offering comfort in her mind, not aloud, knowing she didn't want everyone to see her in her weakest moment. Bomber pushed close to her, closing in on one side as if to shield her.
Hannah crossed the room, breaking the silence first. "Drink some tea, Elle. He's a long way away and he can't touch you here. He wants you to think that he can, but you're safe here."
Elle swallowed hard, not yet having the strength to control the tremors in her body. "How do you know, Hannah?"
"I just know. Sit up and drink your tea. He wants you afraid because he can better control you that way. But you're home, here with us, and we're going to heal you and make you strong again. He can't win. He believes in his own power because he's never had anything or anyone stand in his way." She crouched down beside her youngest sister, gently pushing her hair from her face. "Look at me, honey." She waited until Elle lifted her head and their eyes met. "You aren't alone. You have all of us. You have our men. You have Jackson. You have this town. But most of all, you have your own talent, your own strengths. He isn't going to win."
Elle drew in a deep breath, turned and leaned her head back against Jackson's legs as she took the teacup from her sister. She looked around the room at the people who loved her--the people who would fight for her--fight with her. "He killed Dane. My handler. Dane's the only one who knew my identity. I was loaned out and he was afraid someone in his agency worked for Stavros. He claimed that Stavros had police on his payroll throughout Europe and even possibly here. He didn't want to take any chances. W
e built the Sheena MacKenzie cover very carefully over a period of time in order to bring her into Stavros's world."
"I'm sorry, baby," Jackson whispered gently. His fingers found the nape of her neck and began a slow massage to ease the tension out of her.
"Dane was a good man. He didn't deserve to die on my account."
"It wasn't your account, Elle," Sarah corrected. "He was trying to stop a human trafficking ring. You and I both know how dangerous that is. It's becoming the number one moneymaker, edging out drugs and weapons trafficking all over the world. Every branch of law enforcement everywhere is concerned, and all of them know the risks, just as they do when they're trying to bust a drug ring."
Elle bit down hard on her lip, not wanting to think about Dane. He came from a long line of law enforcement and his family had spent generations working for their country trying to stop crime. Dane had requested help from the United States and he'd gotten her. She hadn't done very well for him. Stavros had gotten to him, which meant Dane had been right--someone in his office was on Stavros's payroll. It was only a matter of time now. Even if Dane had protected her identity, Stavros knew Sheena MacKenzie was an undercover agent. He'd never stop now until he found her.
Jackson said nothing, knowing how the Drake family worked. He'd been around them enough times. He knew he was an intelligent man, but several in the room were better thinkers than he was. He was the quiet, action type, finding little reason for a lot of talk and a lot of reason for action.
For him, it was all quite simple. Stavros would never go to prison. Even if he was caught red-handed, he had too much money and too much clout for the evidence to stay untouched. It would disappear or be destroyed. Even in the unlikely case that he was convicted, he would be running his empire from where he was and reaching out to destroy Elle's life. No, Stavros wasn't going to prison.
Jackson glanced up and met Ilya's knowing eyes. The Russian just nodded at him, a small, barely there assent. There were two of them that felt the same way and Ilya was a good man to have at his back.
"I think the real question we need to be asking ourselves is, why is he so strong," Damon ventured. "When any of you use your talents, it drains you. He's a sea away yet he sustains power. That makes no sense."
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