Guarding Raine (Security Ops) (27 page)

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Authors: Kylie Brant

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BOOK: Guarding Raine (Security Ops)
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“You did?” Mac murmured, his eyes intent on the other man.

“I mean . . . the last time I was here it looked like you were getting done. Is there still a lot left to do?”

“Just odds and ends,” Mac replied, smoothly forestalling a reply from Raine. “My only job today is to get Raine away from here for a while. She needs a break.”

It was obvious that his answer didn’t satisfy Greg. He shot a troubled look at Raine.

“Greg?” she asked quizzically. He always became flustered easily, but right now he was acting especially strange. “May I sign now?”

“Oh, of course.” He hurriedly bent over the papers he’d been explaining to her.

He indicated a few places, and she signed her name. Then she smiled at him. “Thanks so much for bringing these over today. You were right. I needed to make some financial plans, but I kept putting it off. Lucky for me you’re so dedicated.”

Greg seemed reluctant to leave, and Raine walked him to his car. Mac grabbed the bag she’d packed and the cooler he’d set in the doorway and hauled them out to his truck. Raine joined him, and a few minutes later they were on their way.

“Greg was acting odd this morning,” she mentioned, a frown on her face.

Mac looked at her. “How can you tell the difference?”

“Be nice. He’s a very pleasant young man, and an excellent accountant. He just gets easily agitated. I’m sure seeing the porch and hearing about what happened last night rattled him.”

Returning his gaze to the road, Mac shook his head. “Greg Winters is not a young man. I’d bet he’s older than you. And if you want to know the cause of his agitation, look in the mirror.”

It took Raine a second to grasp his meaning. Then she swung her head to look at him. “Me? Why would I fluster him? I’m about as threatening as a housefly.”

“I didn’t say you threaten him, Raine. But you do bother him. Surely you’re not so naive that you can’t figure out why.”

When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “C’mon. He hangs around you as much as he can, looking like a lovesick puppy dog. He comes up with excuses to leave his office when he should be working and runs out to see you. What do you make of that?” He could tell by her frown that she was uncomfortable with his pursuit of the subject.

“We’re . . . just friends. Greg knows it will never be more than that, and he’s accepted it. He and I have talked about it before.”

“You may have talked about it, but I wouldn’t be too sure about his acceptance of that fact,” he replied. “He was gibbering because he couldn’t figure out where I came into the picture, and he didn’t like the thought of you going anywhere at all with me.”

Her brows lifted. “You mean you’ve had words with him, too?”

“He hasn’t been as anxious to slit my throat as Klassen is,” Mac said thoughtfully. “Although knowing that I’m going to spend the day with you probably has him harboring some homicidal thoughts toward me at the moment.”

“You know, O’Neill, that suspicious nature of yours can be a real pain.”

He resisted the urge to remind her that his suspicious nature was also quite possibly going to keep her alive. He pulled into the parking lot of a drugstore. “You’d better come in with me,” he said. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight. He’d been outside talking to the men when he’d been radioed about Winters’s car’s approach up the drive, and had entered the house only moments after Raine had shown the man to the den. He’d felt like a spy as he hung around outside the room, but he’d been loath to leave the two of them completely alone. Especially after what Trey had discovered in the man’s apartment.

With the idea of picking up some sunscreen, Raine obediently accompanied Mac into the drugstore. She wandered away from him and selected some sun block. Then she picked up a daily paper, took her items to the counter and paid for them. She opened up the paper as she waited for Mac to finish his shopping. When she got to the arts and entertainment section, her own face stared back at her. Local Artist Threatened was the headline above the picture. She groaned mentally. Darn André for giving that information to the press! She should have known it was too sensational for the media to ignore. No doubt she’d have to field yet another phone call from her father when he got hold of this. She knew she wouldn’t have to warn him to keep this news from reaching her mother. Lorena never saw a newspaper that Simon hadn’t screened first.

Raine shot a look at Macauley, who was heading for the checkout counter. Surreptitiously, she replaced the paper before joining him. There was no need to call the article to his attention. It would only serve to elicit another nasty remark about her agent. She joined him in line, and Macauley put his selections on the counter, pulling his wallet out to pay. For the first time Raine looked at what he was buying, and slow heat suffused her cheeks. The clerk rang up the box of condoms in front of her without a second glance. But Raine couldn’t stop her gaze from flying to meet his.

Tiny twin reflections of herself shone in his dark glasses. She remembered how carefully he’d protected her that first time and, more enticing, she remembered just how hot it had been last night, how out of control. There hadn’t been time, or thought, for protection. There’d been nothing between them, and a flashback of his velvety hardness inside her made her mouth tremble.

Something wild leaped inside Mac as he read the look on her face. Her expression was tantalizingly, innocently transparent. His blood began to pound as he read her thoughts. Never before had he failed to protect his partner. Not when he was a randy teenager, little more than a walking hormone, and never as an adult. Last night had been a first for him in that respect, and the lapse was disturbing. It was bad enough to realize he’d lost control so easily that he’d never given protection a second thought. But that wasn’t what had his jeans growing so tight now. No, that particular discomfort was due to the exquisite memory of how tightly she’d sheathed him, and how mind-blowingly fantastic it had felt to take her without anything between them. It was that memory, and not the concern over lack of protection, that had kept him awake for hours after she slept. He was no longer able to fool himself that he could withstand the lure Raine held for him. But he wasn’t going to take a risk with her again, and that vow had made this stop necessary.

“Sir?”

His head snapped to the clerk. She repeated the price for his purchase, and he quickly extracted a bill from his wallet and handed it to her. Shoving his change into his pocket, he slipped his wallet in place. Grabbing the sack in one hand and Raine’s elbow in the other, he growled softly in her ear, “Let’s go.”

They made one more stop, for a bucket of fried chicken and fixings, and then headed toward the coast. For the duration of the trip, Raine remained shaky from the silent, heated exchange. She usually lamented over how hard Macauley was to read. But in the drugstore his thoughts had been erotically clear.

When they finally stopped, she hopped out of the truck, eager to enjoy the spectacular view. Belatedly remembering that she had left him with everything to carry, she hurried back. He handed her her beach bag, stacked the food on the cooler and climbed out of the truck.

“Mac, there’s a sign that says this is private property,” she told him worriedly.

His long legs kept moving. “It is. I just finished a job for the owner last month.”

She had to trot to keep up with him. “He said you could use it?”

One corner of his mouth went up when he thought of the owner, and of Mark Rayburn’s gratitude when the job had been completed successfully on time. “He was grateful,” Mac acknowledged laconically. Access to the prime beachfront property was the least of what he’d offered Mac. He’d also been willing to introduce him to his daughter. Mac had accepted the first offer and declined the second. “He’s rarely here to use it himself. He has six other houses, I think.”

Raine scrambled down the dunes of sand, which had formed from the constant breeze off the ocean. “It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice hushed. Huge craggy rocks jutted up from the water. The waves crashed over them, sending splintered sprays of foam racing to the shore. More rocks dotted the beach, combining with the dunes to create an isolated, private paradise. “I can’t believe your client needs so many homes when he has one with a view like this.”

Mac set down his load and extracted two soft drinks from the cooler. When he turned back, his mouth went as dry as the sand beneath his feet. Raine had taken off her coverup to reveal a fairly modest bright blue one-piece suit. It was cut high on the thighs, showing off her slim legs to advantage. Other than that, there was nothing the least bit daring about it. Mac was used to his female companions showing quite a bit more skin at the beach, either in a thong bikini or in nothing at all. He couldn’t remember any of them eliciting this kind of reaction from him. He watched her slim hips move as she took two large beach towels from her bag and spread them out on the sand.

He went over and dropped down on one. “You like it here?” he asked.

“It’s gorgeous,” she said sincerely. “I adore the water. There’s something so calming in watching the rhythm of the tide. If my finances had allowed it, beachfront would have been my choice when I bought my property. But the first time I saw my house, I felt that same kind of peace. It was a good choice for me.”

He’d been thinking about this all last night, and again this morning. But now, broaching the subject with her, he felt as though he was picking his way through a mine field. “What I mean is, if you like it here, you could stay for a while. We both could. It would just take one phone call to the owner. Just until this whole thing is over.”

She grew still as his meaning became clear. “You mean hide here.” Her voice was flat.

“No. I mean make sure you aren’t a target anymore. Keep a low profile. After the fire last night that should appeal to you.”

“Should it?” She turned to look at him. “Is that why you brought me here?” It was important all of a sudden for her to know. “Did you just want to get me out of the house so you could talk sense into me? Talk me into running away?”

His chest grew tight at the hurt that flickered across her face. It didn’t seem as if he could do anything right around her, and he cursed himself for his clumsiness. “It’s an option,” he said evenly. “You wanted to be apprised of all aspects of the case. You wanted to make the decisions. Well, this is a choice.”

She stared hard at him and then slowly relaxed. He was telling her the truth. And he was making it incredibly easy for her. All she had to say was yes. It was that simple. And he would see to it that whoever was harassing her wouldn’t even know where she was. No one could get to her, and she wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. It would be so easy to agree.

“I can’t,” she said softly, looking away. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I just can’t. Try to understand, Macauley. I stopped running a long time ago, and it wasn’t an easy habit to break. I can’t let myself begin again.” She knew she couldn’t adequately explain her determination to stand up to the threats in her own way. Certainly it wasn’t bravery on her part. It was more a need to fight against being overtaken by a fear that could be as crippling as any disease.

He was quiet for several minutes. His voice, when it came, was low. “All right. But if the time comes when I don’t believe I can protect you adequately in your own home, I won’t ask.”

She looked at him wordlessly.

“I’ll pack you up and take you somewhere else, argument or no.”

And she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. She appreciated the fact that he’d allowed her to make this decision. Not long ago, he would have faced her with a fait accompli. She wondered if he realized the significance of giving her this choice.

After a time she murmured, “I love the sound of the ocean.” She turned to look at Mac. “Sarah and I have been to Cancun three times. It’s great. Beautiful white beaches and rowdy bars downtown.” She smiled in remembrance. “Every time we go to the marketplace she tries to talk me into a tattoo.”

At his swift look down her body, she laughed. “She hasn’t convinced me yet. I’m not quite that adventurous. But I do like to return there. My idea of a perfect vacation would be to be out in the ocean on a seaworthy boat. I’d like to just drift, putting in to shore when I felt like it.”

Her tone was almost wistful, and her description appealing. It was damn close to what he’d had in mind for himself, before he’d agreed to take on another job. Before Raine.

They drowsed in the sun for the next couple of hours. Raine put on sunglasses against the glare of the sun, and to hide the fact that her gaze wandered, again and again, to Mac’s bare chest. He lay sprawled out on his back, looking like a sun god fallen to earth. His chest was already brown, and she remembered suddenly the remark he had made once about an all-over tan. Her eyes traveled down his torso to where his waist narrowed in the black trunks. His body would be firm, smooth and warm. Her hand was tempted to touch him, but she couldn’t quite work up the courage.

Sensing her gaze on him, he turned on his side to face her. He took his glasses off and surveyed her soberly. Reaching out with one finger, he traced the line where her suit met the top of her breasts. She caught her breath at the action.

“Did you know all of those people at Klassen’s party last night?”

His question came out of the blue. And the movement of his finger made it difficult to formulate an answer.

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