Matt—The Callahan Brothers (Brazos Bend Book 2) (2 page)

Reluctantly, Matt attended to business by kicking hard with his legs and propelling them to the surface, where he ended the kiss and allowed her a breath. She gulped in air, then muttered, “I don’t think my father sent you to do that.”

Matt murmured in her ear, “Quiet now. Can you swim?”

“Yes, but-”

“Shush. Listen to me. I’ve a place for us to hide until dark. It’s a short swim, but-” Now it was Matt’s turn to break off mid-sentence as his senses warned him of approaching danger. Two, maybe three men approached from their right. He squeezed her waist in warning, then felt her shudder and nod. “Breathe,” he said. Then he pulled her beneath the water.

Matt always prepared at least one bolt-hole when he went on the job. When he’d stumbled across the cenote yesterday, and having utilized a similar spot in the Yucatán years ago, he’d recognized the advantages it had to offer. Dr. Delectable’s pursuers would need incredible luck to find her here. He’d hide in the cave with her until night fell. Then he’d see about getting them both safely off the island.

He led her into a narrow tunnel that was black as night. He kept hold of her, which made swimming awkward, but he dared not let her go. He wished he’d had time to prepare her for this swim. Cave diving was dangerous even when a person knew what he was doing, but for a novice ... well ... he hoped the good doctor wasn’t claustrophobic. If she panicked, she could put them both in a world of hurt.

He spied the glimmer of light that identified their objective, and swam toward it. Unfamiliar with Helen Bradshaw’s lung capacity—well, except in relation to that lengthy kiss—he determined it best to send her up first. He yanked her past him and in water turned blue with light, he pointed out, then up. Hoping she got the idea, he shoved her into the short tunnel that opened off the main one they’d entered.
That-a-girl,
he thought as she swam toward the light.

As Matt followed her out of the tunnel and into the lit cavern, he realized he looked forward to the next few hours. He kicked hard, shooting for the surface, knowing they had lots of time to kill before dark. He was curious to hear her story. After that, who knew?

Maybe Dr. Delectable would need some comforting.

Torie gulped air when her head broke the surface. She swam toward a rocky ledge and held on, resting, breathing, trying to calm her wildly beating heart. That swim through total darkness, not knowing where she was going and following the lead of a man she didn’t know from Adam, had been the most frightening experience of her life. Worse than being shot at.

Of course, she’d been shot at before. Tunnel swimming had been a first for her.

Now that she had oxygen in her lungs again, she took a look around her. She was inside a large cavern complete with stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Or was that stalagmites? Whichever they were, they were gorgeous. This whole place was gorgeous.

Utterly captivated by the scene, Torie only vaguely noted when the man’s head broke the surface behind her. Sunlight beamed through a hole the size of a dinner plate in the ceiling, the single source of light in the entire cavern. It turned the crystal-clear water blue and illuminated the cavern in such a way that made it seem almost magical. Her gaze tracing the path of sunlight down into the water, Torie gasped. From the bottom of the cave rose a perfect pyramid of white sand. It must have been falling through the hole above for eons, undisturbed by man or beast.

“Whoa,” she breathed, then turned to stare at her rescuer, who was treading water in the middle of the cave. Her voice echoed as she asked, “How did you know about this place?”

“I’ve dived the underwater cave system in the Yucatán. The topography of this island is similar, so when I found the cenote, I thought it worth exploring. It’s always handy to have a place to hide if you need it. Are you okay?”

Torie took stock. She had a few scrapes that stung, a few bruises, but nothing serious. Though the water was cold, she’d grown accustomed to the chill. “I’m fine.”

“There’s a place we can get out of the water over here,” he said, jerking his head toward the right. “Behind that stalagmite.”

“Okay.”

He swam away from her and Torie took another look around. Such a beautiful place. Clean and peaceful. Relaxing. She took a minute and floated on her back, the tension that had held her in its grip since that awful moment on the beach flowing out of her, leaving calmness in its wake.

Color abounded in the rock formations. Reds and pinks and purples. The places where sunlight reached sparkled like jewels. Torie sighed inwardly at the sheer beauty of the moment.

Then calmness descended into fatigue and she knew she’d best get out of the water before she drowned. Rolling over, she swam in the direction he’d indicated. Rounding the curve of the cave, she was treated to yet another sight of natural beauty—her rescuer’s naked backside.

Glory be. How many years had she been waiting for James Bond to drop that towel?

He was tanned and toned from head to toe with broad shoulders and corded muscles that flexed and stretched as he used one of AGR Inc.’s green-striped beach towels to wipe the wetness from his skin. Torie revised her mental description of the man. He was James Bond with a bit of Adonis mixed in. Or maybe James Bond combined with a broader version of Michelangelo’s David.

How about James Bond with the best set of buns she’d ever been privileged to see?

He glanced over his shoulder and caught her gawking, but didn’t react beyond a slight lifting of his brow.

He stepped casually into a pair of khaki shorts, then turned. She tried not to stare at his firm pecs, dark chest hair in just the right amount-not too thick or too thin-and mouthwatering six-pack abs. But Torie couldn’t help herself. She stared. She goggled.
God bless the U.S. military.

He smirked a little as he extended his arm to help her from the water. When his hand clasped hers and he yanked her effortlessly out of the pool, sudden awareness of her own lack of clothing washed over her. She wished she’d worn Helen’s one-piece rather than her own suit.

Her feet hit dry land, and he handed her the towel. She tangibly felt his gaze as she made a few quick swipes, then wrapped the towel around herself, tucking one end at her chest. Then, summoning her confidence, she offered him a smile. “So, to whom do I owe my thanks? Captain Galahad? Lieutenant Knight-in-Shining-Armor?”

“I’m Callahan. Matt Callahan.” He flashed a grin in return. “No title. I’m not in the military, Dr. Bradshaw.”

She folded her arms, not certain she bought his claim. Did military intelligence people routinely deny their position? “You said my father sent you, Mr. Callahan.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know the general? Don’t tell me you’re a simple civilian. I won’t believe it.”

After a moment’s pause, he replied, “General Bradshaw assisted me during a visit to the Balkans.”

The Balkans? Events in Eastern Europe might not be making headlines these days, but Torie knew that struggle and strife continued in that area of the world. “That’s not exactly a tourist spot. Why were you there? How did my father help you?”

“It’s complicated. However, I’m glad to have the opportunity to help him in return.”

She puzzled over that for a moment. “Help him how? Not even my omniscient father could have anticipated what happened this morning.”

“Just what did happen?” Those gorgeous blue eyes narrowed. “Did Marlow arrive early? Did you stumble onto something you’re better off not knowing? Something to do with Gleaming Way, perhaps?”

Gleaming Way! Torie’s eyes went wide. She’d learned about the Peruvian terrorist organization when they’d kidnapped a Bolivian starlet a couple of years ago. Had Helen’s boyfriend been involved with them? Maybe his status as a pharmaceutical mogul somehow tied them together. A drug manufacturer and drug runners did seem to go together.

“You answer my questions first. What brings you to the island?”

He studied her a moment, then nodded. “Your father is protective of you. When you confided your fear that a byproduct of your cancer-drug research had the potential of being used as a biological weapon, he decided to take a look at everyone in your life. He didn’t like what he discovered about Collin Marlow. Three days ago, the general learned that Collin Marlow’s name is on a terrorist watch list. Two days ago, he contacted me and asked me to ... escort you back to Washington, where he can oversee your safety while you complete your work.”

That sounded just like the general. For once, Torie wouldn’t quibble over his methods.

She waited for Matt Callahan to elaborate, but when it became obvious he didn’t intend to say more, she tried to fit together what pieces she knew. Why send Callahan? Why not come himself? Unlike Torie, Helen listened to their father. She’d have done as he asked.

“I’m surprised he didn’t come himself.”

Something flickered across Callahan’s face. He agreed with her? That was interesting.

“Something he said ... well ... he’s not happy about your engagement. It occurs to me that sending me might have been an attempt to, uh, well, play matchmaker.”

“Whoa. Really? Who are you, Callahan?”
 

Grimly, he said, “I’m someone who can keep General Lincoln Bradshaw’s daughter safe.”

She seriously hoped so. Even if she was the wrong daughter.

“Are you a mercenary?”

His lips twisted. “Do you honestly believe your father would want you involved with a mercenary?”

No. He wouldn’t. For Helen, the general would want only the best. He’d want someone who could fit into the elite social circles in which he moved. He’d want someone strong and smart and sneaky. He’d want ...

The answer hit her like a fist. Torie’s jaw dropped. Her brows flew up. “Oh. Wow. You’re CIA, aren’t you? You really are James Bond!”

Chapter Two

Matt Callahan blinked twice, then drawled, “I understand that a person has to be bright to become a biochemist and molecular geneticist. Nevertheless, I’m curious to know how you connected those particular dots.”

“I know my father.” Torie yanked the scrunchy from her braid, then finger combed her dripping hair. “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re a spy. My father sent a spy to save me.”

Callahan’s gaze remained locked on her hands and hair. “General Bradshaw is worried about you.”

“Why?”

“You told him you were in love. He didn’t think you’d listen.”

“Rather than call and at least try to explain, he sends in a spy?” Sarcasm dripped from her words as she added, “How typical of the general.”

Her rescuer arched a brow at that. “I understood that you and your father are close.”

The general and Helen were close. Torie gnawed her bottom lip. Here was her opportunity to explain that the woman Matt Callahan had come to the island to rescue was on a shopping trip in Rio.

Yet, Torie hesitated. What did this man know about her family? What if her father had told him about her? What if he shared her father’s opinion that she was an embarrassment, the Bradshaw family shame?

If General Lincoln Bradshaw had been the one hiding in the rain forest, he might well have let her run past. If Matt Callahan knew who she was ... well ... he might not leave her to the killers, but he certainly wouldn’t look at her with the respect and admiration she saw in his expression right now.

Frankly, she wasn’t up for the usual disgust about her work and lifestyle. She didn’t need the snide remarks and nasty comments bound to emerge from her rescuer’s talented lips once he learned just who she really was. For the moment, then, she’d play along. People liked Helen; they respected her. It’d be easier to be Helen for now, so she’d continue the charade.

So, then, what would Helen say about the general? The words stuck in Torie’s throat. “Daddy can be overprotective at times. He loves me dearly, and sometimes he goes a bit overboard.”

“Not in this case, apparently.”

“No,” she solemnly agreed. “Not in this case.”

“Tell me what happened this morning.”

Hmm. Well. How to do this?
This part of the charade would be even more difficult than speaking of her father without puckering up with bitterness. Torie didn’t have a naive bone in her body. She’d never have fallen for a slick bit of slime like Collin Marlow, God rest his soul. Pretending that she’d acted so foolishly to a man the likes of Matt James Bond Callahan would be hard on her pride. She’d need all her acting skills to pull it off.

Torie glanced toward his stash of supplies. “I don’t suppose you have anything to drink in there? Vodka? Vermouth?”

“That bad, huh?” He gestured toward a flat spot where she could sit and rest her back against the cavern wall. “I’ve got a granola bar.”

“No chocolate?”

He frowned and scratched the hard line of his jaw. “That’s a problem, Dr. Bradshaw. I prize my chocolate. Don’t know as I want to share.”

Torie eyed the supply stack with renewed interest. She really wanted that chocolate. “How about I make you a trade?”

His eyes widened imperceptibly; then he gave her a slow once over. “Something tells me we’re probably not thinking of the same type of barter.”

Whoa. She wouldn’t be surprised to find burn marks on her skin along the path of his stare.