Cherry Adair - T-flac 09 (21 page)

But this wasn’t
about
him.

Long, dark lashes fluttered, drowsy hazel eyes appeared more mossy green than brown as Heather looked at him. “I have to—”

Caleb pressed two fingers to her mouth. “In a minute. Close your eyes and enjoy the moment.”

Her eyes closed, and she snuggled her cheek on his chest. Stroking his fingers down her back he felt her body gradually relax against his. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he inhaled the floral scent of her hair and the arousing fragrance of her orgasm.

He needed a minute to tamp down his own arousal. And just in case he wasn’t insane enough as it was, he silently made the skimpy little pink top she wore disappear so her bare breasts pressed against his side. He loved her breasts. He’d always preferred his women well staked, but Heather’s small plump
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breasts were perfect. He almost—
almost
wished away his shirt so that he could feel her gentle curves against his skin.

He got a grip. It was bad enough feeling her warm skin through a layer of T-shirt. Skin to skin would send him off like a rocket.

Christ. He was a freaking glutton for punishment. He closed his eyes, then opened them again. Told himself he was doing this for a good cause.

Focus.

Damn hard to do with a naked Heather in his arms. He was in a constant state of arousal when he was anywhere near her. And often, he thought ruefully, when he wasn’t. All he needed to do was inadvertently think about her, and
pow.
Hard-on. He was getting used to the problem.

He considered it a learning curve.

The pregnancy put a completely different spin on things. He’d never imagined having children. Ever. It had always been a no-brainer. Nairne’s Curse was supposed to end with himself, Gabriel, and Duncan.

They’d all agreed.

Duty o’er love was the choice you did make—

His
duty
was this mission, to find Shaw. And now, to ensure his unborn son’s safety. Christ. As if this thing with Heather wasn’t complicated enough, he was going to have to walk a damn shaky tightrope until her father was apprehended.

He pushed his long-ago promise to the side in favor of an image of his son. Would he look like an Edge? Or would his hair be lighter, like Heather’s?

She stirred, draping a bare leg over his, and her arm over his waist. It was like being enveloped by a
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cashmere blanket. He loved the feel of her in his arms. Loved the way her body relaxed against his.

Loved…His son. A swell of emotion tightened Caleb’s throat. He rested his hand on Heather’s stomach.

A son.

Now, far from being determined to marry her and then get a divorce and walk away, he was going to have to stay married to her. But never see her again.

He hadn’t lied when he’d told her that people had made marriages just like theirs work. His parents had given it a shot. Not happily. Not successfully. And continents apart. An ocean and a Curse between them.

Knowing how this was going to play out,
had
to play out, he was still bent on seducing her into marrying him. It was the only way he was going to be able to gain entry into Shaw’s Matera stronghold. The only way a man of honor could behave toward the mother of his child.

Duty o’er love.Yeah, he got it, he thought bitterly. Man, did he get it. But it was fucking exhausting trying to fight his desire for her. There hadn’t been a day since they’d been apart that he hadn’t thought about her. Wanted her. Craved her. She was sustenance and he was freaking
starving.

Not wanting her was like trying not to breathe, a tide of urgency so strong he was helpless to resist it.

At least he didn’t have to fake this part of their relationship.

This was the real deal. A thousandfold.

Lucky him. “Okay?” he asked against her flower-scented hair.

She looked up, some of the strain gone from around her pretty eyes. “Considerably.”

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He brushed her mouth with his, craving more, but knowing she needed to finish what she felt compelled to tell him. It wasn’t like he could admit to knowing more about her father than she did.

He smoothed his hand over her tummy, his mouth suddenly dry as the reality slammed into him again.

Jesus God. There was a child there. His child. If for no other reason than duty, he
had
to marry Heather.

Had
to become a father. A role he’d never allowed himself to envision, since every Edge knew there wasn’t any such thing as a happy f-ing ending.

No picket fence, no Sunday dinners, just heartbreak. A difficult pile of crap for a man to swallow.

Sheer brute strength couldn’t beat the Curse, Einstein’s brain couldn’t break it. No one knew exactly how to end the damned words that stopped the Edges from being normal men, able to give their love freely, without killing the recipient of their affection.

The silken threads binding him to Heather tightened inexorably.
Duty o’er love was the choice you did
make. And it seemed that yet another generation of Edges would be doomed to do the same.

“So your dad was a glorified banker. To whom?” he prodded, wondering if she would tell, surprised that she’d said as much as she already had. “The Mafia? That goes with the hit man theory.”

Heather hesitated, then gave a little shrug. “Maybe.”

Caleb sensed her innocence, that she really didn’t know what or who her father served.

Mafia? Not that T-FLAC was aware of. Shaw’s clients were considerably bigger, and even more dangerous than the mob. But Caleb was pretty damn sure that none of
them
had a reason to be after Heather. Not unless she knew more about her father’s business than T-FLAC suspected. The analytical team didn’t think so, and frankly, neither did he.

Heather would never make a great poker player, since she broadcasted her emotions on her pretty face. It was why he’d been able to play the marriage card. Once he’d gotten beyond his egotistical male

“no” response to her abortion announcement, he’d been able to see beneath the surface. Heather was scared, choosing what she saw as the safest way to “protect” her unborn child. By not carrying it to term.

In that instant, Caleb renewed his vow to hunt down Shaw and kill the bastard for terrorizing his own daughter.

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He hadn’t needed ESP to realize that she already loved this baby and she’d be cut to the soul if she went through with the procedure. It hadn’t taken much persuading, and yet here she was, next to him on her bed, spilling her guts. Guilt squirmed and he squashed it.

Shaw was a dangerous man. Unlike Heather, he’d make a mean poker player, one who held his cards close to his chest. It was highly unlikely that either his wife or daughter had ever been fully aware of what he did and the people he did it with.

A surge of protectiveness had Caleb pulling Heather even closer to him. “Well, now the bastards are going to have to go through me to get to you,” he assured her.

Instead of relaxing, she went stiff as a board in his arms, pulling her head back so that she met his gaze straight on. Her brown eyes were wild with panic. “God no! This has nothing to do with you! I shouldn’t have, damn it, I don’t need a hero. See? This is why I can’t have this baby, your baby. I can’t have anyone in my life! I’m on the run, Caleb.”

She bit her quivering lower lip as her eyes pooled with tears. “I have to tell you something…My, my father isn’t dead.” She sucked in a quavering breath and continued without looking up, “He and I—we had a huge fight and I haven’t seen or heard from him in over a year. I think he pissed off someone enough that they want to hurt me in retaliation.” She finally raised her eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, Caleb. I’d never forgive myself.”

The look on her face was so honest and sincere that he almost, almost, told her the truth. About his job, his paranormal talents, and the Curse. He caught himself before majorly f-ing things up.

His heart constricted but his voice was smooth and assuring as he whispered into her hair, “Nobody’s going to get hurt, sweetheart. Trust me.”
The only thing I plan to break is your heart.

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Two hours later they were married and heading to Italy for their honeymoon. “It’s a long flight,” Caleb told her softly, although there were no other passengers in first class to hear him. “Try to get some sleep.

You’re going to need all your strength when we get there, Mrs. Edge.”

Mrs. Edge. Hard to believe. It had all happened so fast. Caleb tucked a blanket she didn’t need over her lap. As if she’d freeze in a pressurized cabin. Still, it was sweet.

For someone who debated a minor decision for days, if not months, Heather had gotten dizzy as she was swept along by Caleb’s take-charge actions today. Lord, the man made split-second decisions, then lightning-fast follow-ups. He’d given her mere minutes to pack a bag and lock up her apartment before hauling her into a cab and taking her to city hall. Their wedding had taken four minutes. And two of those had been spent signing forms.

She hoped to God that she wasn’t making a mistake by leaving the relative safety and anonymity of San Francisco for Europe. Wouldn’t these people
expect
her to eventually go home? Europe wasn’t that big.

It was common knowledge that the family had a pied-à-terre in Paris, and her parents’ estate was sixty miles outside of that city. Many of her father’s banking clients had been to functions at both. Worry gnawed at her. What if they bumped into someone she knew while they were in Europe? What if the paparazzi spotted her at the airport? What if…What if…

“Relax,” he told her with a smile. “We’re going to Italy, not the salt mines of Siberia.”

“I am relaxed.” Sort of, she thought ruefully. She felt as though she’d been sucked into a vortex. She tried to smooth the anxiety from her face and forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply.

“Perhaps one day you and your father can patch things up,” he offered, leaning over her to stuff a small pillow between her and the window. “It would be nice for our son to know his grandfather. Is there a chance of a reconciliation? Now that we have a baby to introduce?” Caleb’s tone was light, but she sensed an underlying tension in his voice.

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“He’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type, believe me,” she said dryly. She couldn’t imagine her elegant father around a small child, but it would certainly be interesting to watch.

Loving Caleb this much, this fast, was a little overwhelming. “Has anyone ever called you a human bulldozer?” she asked, intrigued by the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Only my brother Gabriel. And only when I’m eating MacPain’s cooking.”

“Mac who?”

“His name is Mac
Bain.
He’s my brother Gabriel’s—Hmm. I’m not sure what MacPain is called nowadays. Butler? Factotum? Pain in the ass? He runs Gabriel’s household.”

“Good grief. Your brother has a household large enough to warrant a
butler
?” So he came from money.

Which explained the first-class seats purchased at the last moment at a premium, and the exquisite diamond band on her wedding finger. Things he probably wouldn’t have been able to purchase on the salary of a tractor parts salesman. Not that she had a clue how much or little a tractor parts salesman made.

“Actually Gabriel’s house is a castle.”

“Literally?”

“Yeah. It was originally our family seat in Scotland. He brought it over to the U.S. and had it reconstructed, stone by stone, in Montana.”

“That must’ve given the local cattle something to moo about.” Heather smiled. “Does he have a horde of kids?”

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“Nope. He’s single.”

One didn’t have anything to do with the other, but she let it pass. “And eccentric apparently, living in a Montana castle with a butler.”

“They’re just friends,” Caleb said, straight-faced.

“I’m married to a comedian,” she teased. The diamonds on her finger sparkled, shooting off little shards of fire in the stream of light from the small overhead reading lamp. She’d felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes when he’d produced the ring for her during the ceremony. It had all happened so fast, yet he’d still made the time to buy her a wedding ring.

Before he’d come to see her.

Beforehe’d known that she was pregnant.

Had he called his family? Told his brothers he was marrying? Or at the very least, that he was going to be a father? Lord, there was a lot she had to learn about the Edge family. “Tell me about this Montana castle.”