Come Gentle the Dawn (10 page)

The brush trembled in her hand. Had Linc put Jeff up to it? He was capable of that. First anger then despair flooded her. Numbly, Brie brushed the last coating of
sauce on the chicken, then started to pick the pieces up with the tongs. If she tried to back out, Jeff would be embarrassed, not to mention herself. Linc wouldn’t care. He’d taken a few on the nose before and survived. But one look into Jeff’s animated face and Brie lost the heart to chastise him for his decision. Wasn’t she trying to teach him good leadership? He had accurately assessed the situation and come up with what he thought was a good solution. Technically, it was. Emotionally, Brie felt a clawing sensation moving up through her, and she wanted to scream. She knew Linc would corner her sooner or later about her nightmares. And what if she had them again while he was there? She never knew when they would hit.

“No, it’s okay,” she said in a barely audible voice.

Jeff frowned, getting up and taking the platter of chicken.

“Sure? You’re looking might peaked, Brie.”

Linc was watching Brie closely from where he had sat down. The tension sizzled palpably around them. He knew and she knew. Jeff was floundering, realizing he had done something wrong, but he didn’t know quite what. Linc felt his heart wrench as he met and held Brie’s bleak stare, then he savagely destroyed the emotion. Brie was hiding something, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

*

Jeff waved goodbye from his truck and disappeared around the corner, swallowed up by the line of trees. Linc stood on the front porch, hands on his hips. The sun had set and the sky was a lush pink, reminding Linc of the color of Brie’s cheeks. She had eaten little of the
meal and had kept silent except when spoken to directly. He felt like a first-class jerk for camping under her roof. But it was necessary. It would give him the time he needed to thoroughly investigate her and the premises and, he hoped, come up with some clues on who had killed John Holcomb. He pushed several dark strands of hair off his brow, turning and going inside the house.

Brie was busy in the kitchen, an apron tied around her slender waist. She was up to her elbows in soapsuds, and Linc wandered over. He picked up a towel and began drying the dishes in the drainer.

“If word ever got back to my ex-wife that I’m helping do dishes, she’d die,” he said, trying to relieve the tension between them.

“A woman’s work is in the kitchen, is that it?”

He nodded amiably, giving her a warm smile meant to get her to relax. It didn’t work. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I suppose you wanted her barefoot and pregnant, too?”

His grin was genuine. Brie’s sense of humor was still intact, thank God. “Maybe at one time.”

She scrubbed the bowl hard, obviously trying to hide her nervousness. “Did you want kids?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I had such a rotten childhood that I never wanted to see another kid have to scratch and claw like I did to make it.”

Brie raised her chin, her jade eyes meeting his. “Your child wouldn’t have. He or she would have had you and your wife for parents.”

“I was never home because of my job,” he grumbled.
Well, Linc reasoned, she was responding, and some of the terror was draining from her face. He never discussed his personal life on an assignment. He always fabricated a cover. But if it was going to get Brie to trust him, then it was worth opening up.

“I see,” she said.

“I really don’t dislike kids.”

“I know.”

He stopped wiping a plate as he stared at her. “How?”

“At noon, when I fed Homely Homer, I could tell you were enjoying her despite your protests. The look in your face, I guess.”

He resumed drying the dishes with a snort. “I’m just a sucker for orphans, is all.”

“I like that about you,” she said softly.

A shaft of pleasure and shock hit him simultaneously. He was surprised at how happy he was over her admission. “That wasn’t a line?” he teased.

Brie shook her head, pulling the sink stopper out so the suds and water could drain. “Jeff is the one practicing the lines, not me,” she said, trying to smile. Maybe Linc wasn’t going to bring up the nightmare. God, please don’t let him do it.

“That’s something I like about you. You’re honest as the day is long.”

Brie met his smiling eyes, sinking into his warmth and absorbing it. “What’s the matter, don’t you think women aren’t normally honest?”

He completed drying the dishes and hung the towel over the handle of one of the drawers. “In my experience, women say one thing and mean another.” And as an agent, honesty wasn’t his policy. It could get him killed.
Still, his conscience nudged him a bit because Brie seemed incapable of lying or being dishonest—so far.

She turned to him, wiping her lower arms. “And I suppose you never do, Tanner?”

Picking up her challenge, Linc reached out, his fingers outlining her cheek and delicate jaw line. He saw shock in her eyes, and her lips parted beneath his unexpected action. “That’s one thing you’ll find out about me—I’m honest. The truth may hurt, but it’s better than the alternative.” Guilt pricked at him. Containing the unexpected feeling Brie brought out in him made him scowl. Suspects shouldn’t get under his skin, but somehow, Brie had.

He reluctantly dropped his hand to his side. Brie’s flesh was soft and pliable, and he ached to continue his feather-light exploration of her. His body was going rigid at just that fleeting touch. The look in her eyes melted his professional intent, and he no longer tried to deny his building hunger for her. “Like now,” he said, his voice dark like thick honey. “I’ve been wanting to reach out and touch you all day. To tell you that everything is going to work out. I don’t like what I see in your eyes, Brie.” His brows fell. “And I wish there was some way I could help you…” What the hell was happening? Linc caught himself and pulled back.

Brie lifted her fingers, resting them against her cheek where he had caressed it with his work-worn hand. A new ache throbbed to life deep within her, and she recognized the heady warmth that enveloped her. Linc was affecting her, and she didn’t have time to sort out anything. She took a step away from him, folding the towel with deliberate movements. “Sometimes you have to go through a particular experience alone, Linc.”

He shook his craggy head, holding her brittle eyes, which were marred with confusion. “Listen to me, Brie. In my thirty-three years of life, I’ve faced just about every kind of traumatic situation you want to name, including the losing of my partner. I was able to work through some of them by myself. On others, I needed help. Emotional support.” His voice grew husky. “Don’t shut yourself off from people who love and respect you. They can help in their own way if you let them…”

He had said enough. More than enough, judging by her startled reaction. Thoroughly disgusted with himself and his lapse of being on guard, Linc excused himself and went to the living room. He turned on the television. The overpowering urge to reach out, to drag Brie into his arms and hold her was eating him up alive. When had any woman affected him as Brie did? Never. With a grimace, he sat on the couch, idly watching the show on television, his mind on anything but that.

For an hour Linc sat there, embroiled in an emotional quandary. Restless, he got up. He wandered into the kitchen. It was empty. He looked out the window toward the back yard. Brie wasn’t there. Getting concerned, he ambled toward the hall. Her bedroom was dark, with the door still ajar. There was a light beneath the closed door of Homely Homer’s room, and he walked quietly up to it. Homer was whistling softly and Linc smiled, remembering what Brie had told him earlier—the little bird was happy. He knocked softly at the door, then opened it.

Brie was sitting in an overstuffed chair opposite the door, pocket book in hand. She tried to give him a slight smile.

“This is where I do my reading,” she explained.

Linc noted how Brie looked calmer and less out of sorts. “I just got worried about where you might be.”

She placed the novel in her lap, her lips curving. “Tell me something, Tanner. Are you a great big watchdog the chief has sent to hover over me?”

He felt heat in his cheeks. If only she knew how close to the truth she was. Linc ruefully shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Nah, just my normal protective mechanism coming out. Why? Does it bother you?”

Brie shifted position, curling her long legs beneath her. “It just feels strange. I’m not used to having someone care openly about me, that’s all.”

Linc went over to the large bookshelf that dominated the back wall. Most of the books were on chemistry, hazardous material or fire sciences. He leaned down to the bottom shelf. “What’s this? Romance novels?” His mouth quirked, and he slid a glance in Brie’s direction. She arched one brow.

“That’s what I happen to be reading right now.”

His grin increased as he straightened. “I’d never have believed it. You, of all people.”

“Now what kind of crack is that? I happen to enjoy a few really good writers, and they just happen to write for a particular category.”

“Are we getting defensive?”

“Not in the least,” Brie shot back, relaxing beneath his banter. “You’d be surprised to know that these books can educate.”

His cobalt eyes darkened with mirth. “Yeah, I’ll bet they do.”

“You’re such a pervert on top of being a chauvinist, Tanner.”

He held up his hands, enjoying their exchange. When Brie wasn’t on guard, she was delightful, making him feel lighter and happier than he’d felt in a long time. “Guilty as charged, I suppose.” He walked over and took the book from her hands, studying it. “Look at this cover. And you call me perverted? With two people in a clinch like that, I’d think
you’re
the pervert.” He handed the novel back to her.

Brie gave him a bored look. “Typical male. You’re so good at casting stones at something you haven’t even made the effort to research first.” She waved a hand toward the bookcase. “Read one before you hand me your assessment. I hope you don’t analyze haz-mat situations in the same haphazard fashion, Tanner, or we’re all in trouble.”

Saucy little cat, I like your style. “That’s logical of you.” He went to the bookcase and squatted, perusing the section containing the romance novels. “Okay, for a first-time reader of these things, which one do you suggest?”

Brie gave him a stunned look. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah. We’ll discuss the issue of romance novels tomorrow morning over coffee.”

A smile glimmered in her eyes. “You? Alert at breakfast? This I have to see.”

He ignored her jab. “Okay, which author?”

She uncurled like a cat and came to join him, their shoulders almost touching as she knelt beside him. “Let’s see…there’s one author here whose books can be read by a man or a woman. You’ll probably like her style. She has a lot of adventure and suspense in her
books.” Brie pulled one off the shelf. “This one is about test pilots. Even my brother, Steve, who’s a first lieutenant in the Air Force, enjoyed it.” She put the book in his awaiting hand.

Linc slowly rose. “Was your brother a doubting Thomas about these things like I am?”

“Dyed-in-the-wool doubter,” she agreed, going to the chair. “He now reads the books by this author that I send to him. Religiously.” She sat, watching Linc as he stared at the cover then read the back-cover blurb.

“Give me the keys to the white whale,” he said.

Brie frowned. The haz-mat truck was always locked when they weren’t using it. “Whatever for?”

“I’m going to take some of the tools from the kit and repair that bedroom door for you.”

Her heart dropped, and she stared at him. She could find no trace of any emotion in his face. “Well, I could repair it,” she managed to say.

“No. I did it, so I’ll fix it.” Then he added a smile that reached his eyes, making her feel warm all over. “And I know you can probably repair it just as well if not better than me, but you’re busy.”

There was so much Linc could have said to wound her or to probe more deeply into the wounds within her, but he didn’t. He was keeping the conversation light for her benefit. “I don’t call reading for pleasure busy. I’ll just—”

Linc leaned down, pressing his hand firmly against her shoulder so she couldn’t rise. “I said I’ll do it. Just tell me where the keys are.”

Brie avoided his gaze. “On a hook over the sink.” She was wildly aware of his hand, her flesh burning beneath
his touch. For an instant, Brie wanted to drop her book, lift her arms, slide them around his neck and draw him close to her.

Removing his hand, Linc nodded. “Okay. Just stay here and rest.”

“But—”

“Damn, woman, do you always have to have the last word?” he asked, moving to the door.

Brie watched Linc’s easy gait. He was a broad-shouldered man sculpted with muscle. She felt buoyant beneath his teasing. “I guess I don’t.” His returning smile devastated her screamingly aware senses.

“That’s more like it. I always like to see a woman who knows her place.”

“Linc Tanner! You get out of here before I throw this book at you!”

Chuckling, he closed the door quietly behind him. He stopped smiling and felt worry churning within him. So, he had the ability to lift her out of her quagmire. And she was responding beautifully, like a purring cat who loved his touch. Disgruntled, Linc came to the realization that he was attracted to Brie on a personal level. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had to rise above his needs, which Brie had effortlessly tapped into. Had she done it on purpose? Or was she innocent, responding to him because she needed a little support? Linc firmly rejected the possibility that Brie was genuinely drawn to him, man to woman. Tossing the romance novel on the kitchen table, he went to the haz-mat truck and got the toolbox.

It was nearly ten o’clock when he finished repairing the bottom hinge on Brie’s bedroom door. She hadn’t
emerged from the other room all that time, and Linc suspected she was too uncomfortable about the situation to be up and about. Later, around eleven, Linc went to the room and gave a soft knock. Receiving no answer, he gently opened the door.