Guarding Raine (Security Ops) (13 page)

Mac’s face lit with amusement. Simon was going to get an earful, that was certain. And somehow he thought Raine might just come out on top in this particular skirmish. Having been on the receiving end of her temper a time or two himself, he couldn’t help relishing the thought of Simon taking his turn.

Raine sat in the porch swing long after her father had gone. As dusk began to turn to night, she got up and flipped the switch that should have turned on the porch light. Newly installed floodlights shone across the lawn. She tried another switch, and a spotlight that must have been mounted on the top of the house began sweeping the area with a moving beam. Muttering to herself, she gave up and went back to the swing. Macauley had forgotten to explain the extent of the changes he’d made. Feeling like a stranger in her own home, she stared pensively at the shadows.

A couple hours later she was still there. Mac stood in the doorway watching her for a moment.

“Hi,” she said softly, looking up at his arrival. He’d obviously started getting ready for bed. He was shirtless, and she was entranced by the sight of his bare torso gleaming in the partial darkness.

He leaned against the doorjamb. “You going to turn in soon?”

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Not yet. Why don’t you join me? Porch sitting is very relaxing, you know.”

“Is that a fact?”

She nodded solemnly. “It’s almost a lost art. Come here, I’ll show you.” She got up and crossed over to him, taking him by the elbow and leading him to the swing. He stood by it, eyeing it suspiciously.

“The first rule of porch sitting is to situate yourself in the most advantageous place possible,” she lectured him with mock solemnity. “This swing will do just fine.” She gave him a slight push and he reluctantly sat down on its slatted seat. “Then, you just sit yourself down . . .” She sat next to him. “Just so.” She pushed off the floor with her foot and sent the swing moving slowly through the air.

After a moment he turned to look at her. “And then what?”

“And then—” her voice was filled with laughter “—you wonder what your neighbors are up to.”

He gave a sound that might have been a chuckle. She turned her head swiftly, captivated by the sound. She caught the remnants of a smile on his firm lips. Her eyes fell to his jaw. For the first time since she’d met him, he was clean-shaven. “You shaved,” she gasped.

He rubbed his chin. “I’m not a complete savage. I shave every night,” he said, half defensively.

Every night. The words conjured up an intriguing mental image. She could picture him, torso bare, leaning toward the mirror, moving the blade up his throat in smooth, sure strokes. She imagined him wiping the foam from his face, slapping on the after-shave she could detect. The vision dripped with sensuality. Shaving at night spoke of habit. A habit acquired so a man didn’t abrade a woman’s softer skin with a day’s worth of whiskers. She took in a shuddering breath, and changed the subject.

“What did you and my father talk about tonight?”

“What’s been done around here,” he answered vaguely.

She arched her eyebrows, waiting for him to go on. When he didn’t she prompted, “And did he approve?”

What a question. Simon’s approval of the measures he was taking to keep Raine safe had been easily apparent. His warning had been equally so. “He seemed to.” After a pause he said, “Is there something wrong with your mother? You and your father seemed rather concerned.”

She gave a gentle sigh. “My mother has a genetic heart condition that worsens with age. She almost died having me.” Her voice softened, and she added, “My father has always protected her, and my brothers and I tried to do the same. We never upset her if we can help it. Stress aggravates her condition.”

“No wonder he seemed so worried about her.”

When he didn’t go on, Raine said wryly, “You can’t fool me. My father didn’t come over here to discuss Mother. He grilled you about this whole mess, and about me. I know him well, remember. That’s why he got me out of the room.”

“Were your ears burning?”

“Still warm,” she said, turning one to him. “Feel.”

Without conscious volition, one long finger reached out and traced the shell-like contours of her ear. It was dainty, just like the rest of her.

Raine turned her head toward him, so his finger touched her cheek, her lips. He left it there for a moment, rubbing softly across that pouty mouth. He felt her mouth open slightly beneath his finger, and he experienced a sudden urge to bend down and press his lips against hers, to see if the easy warmth that was so much a part of her would extend to her kiss. He bet it would. Kissing Raine might be one way to chase the chill away from his own dark soul. Her warmth would spread, stamping out the coldness inside of him. He pulled his hand back at the thought.

Nothing and no one was that warm. He’d been cold for so long he was numb from it. And it was more likely that the ice in him would spread to
her
. That would be all he needed, one more thing to feel guilty for.

And he
would
feel guilty, he thought with a glance at those wide eyes gazing at him. He was hired to do a job here, and no woman would interfere with that. He hadn’t needed Simon’s veiled warning earlier to remind him. He couldn’t maintain his objectivity in this case if he got involved with her. But he could no longer deny that the temptation was there.

That ancient resignation he sometimes observed in her eyes still puzzled him. At times he felt compelled to unlock the secret of the ghosts he saw there. But he hadn’t attempted it yet, and he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to learn anything that would draw him closer to her, tempt him further. It wouldn’t be fair, after all, since he fought his own inner battles alone.

But despite those shadows he suspected existed, she managed to radiate an uncommon, pure innocence. Perhaps that was what beckoned to his jaded soul the most, the recognition that something rare was waiting inside her, just within his grasp.

He knew he should get up then, go into the house. But the swing’s rhythmic movements were lulling, and the company was sweet. He felt a wistful yearning that coaxed him to stay even when he knew he should go. Moments like these had been forgotten long ago, but now memories were stirring, and so were other emotions, some better left undisturbed.

He sat in silence next to her, drinking in the night sounds. After a while Raine pulled her feet up beside her and leaned her head against the slatted back. Mac stretched out his arm, and she relaxed against it trustingly.

Staring out into the night, he felt an unusual contentment. It was peaceful to just sit and look at the stars with a woman by his side. A woman who didn’t demand anything from him, not even conversation.

There was something seductive about such a woman, something that beckoned to him. He almost believed that she could banish the darkness inside him. Thinking like that was dangerous.
This woman
was dangerous.

But she was also enchanting, intriguing.

She sighed and moved a little against his arm. He allowed his arm to tighten around her shoulders as he breathed in her scent.

Captivating.

Chapter 7

Three days later Raine was staring at a blank canvas. She needed to complete one more painting. But inspiration had, for the moment at least, deserted her. Usually she was able to look out her window for a few minutes, then close her eyes, and an idea would start to take shape. These days, all she could focus on outside her window were those ugly yellow signs dotting her lawn, the trucks and the piles of materials out front.

Today’s scene was different from last week’s. There were only two trucks out front, and the noise had shifted. Currently it was coming from the roof. Directly above her, in fact. In frustration she left the room. No one seemed to be in the house, a far cry from the way it had been before Macauley O’Neill had come into her life. Her cell rang as she was on her way out the front door.

She walked swiftly to the library before remembering his order that she wasn’t to pick up the phone herself. But he certainly didn’t seem to be around to answer it. His shirt was hanging on the back of a chair, her phone inside its pocket. The radio he carried to keep in contact with the men was on his desk. After the briefest hesitation, she crossed the room and plucked her cell from his shirt.

“Raine Michaels?”

A feeling of trepidation began to form at the pit of her stomach when she heard the unfamiliar voice.

“Yes, this is Raine Michaels.”

“This is Dr. Dietz, calling from the emergency room at St. Joseph’s Medical Center.”

Her fingers clenched the phone more tightly, guessing what the next words would be, wishing helplessly that she could stop them.

“I’m afraid your mother has been brought in by ambulance, Miss Michaels. The ER crew is working to stabilize her now, but . . .”

Tears formed in Raine’s eyes, and she closed them tightly, as if she could shut out the words. This wasn’t the first such phone call she’d received. But her mother’s health had been precarious before, and she’d always managed to pull through. Always. The word repeated itself in her brain in a litany, even as she forced her question out between numb lips. “What’s wrong?”

“Cardiac distress, Miss Michaels. Your father is with her now, and he asked that I contact you and your brothers. I’d recommend you get here as soon as you can.”

A sob broke through then, and Raine closed her lips tightly for an instant, to stem the rest. “Yes,” she agreed finally, once she was sure her voice would work again. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

“Cheek with admissions when you get here, Miss Michaels. They can direct you from there.”

She didn’t wait for anything more. Cell clutched in her hand, she looked wildly about for her purse. The tears streaming down her face weren’t helping her search any, and she wiped at them frustratedly. Her fingers curled into her palms, and she forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. It wouldn’t help her parents to have to deal with their daughter’s hysterics once she arrived at the hospital.

Calmer, she went to the hallway closet and took her purse from the shelf on which she always kept it. Dropping the cell inside and extracting the keys, she hurried to the garage and backed her white Lexus into the drive. She’d reached the road at the end of the drive when she remembered Macauley’s instructions about going nowhere without him.

She deliberated for only a frantic moment before turning onto the road in front of her house. No doubt he was up on the roof in the middle of the melee, and she definitely wasn’t going to take the time to join him up there and explain. She could call him from the hospital. Biting her lip, she prayed to God that she wouldn’t be too late.

She turned off onto a secondary road and began driving toward the Golden State Freeway. The freeway would help her avoid the traffic snarls that seemed to occur like clockwork. Worry gnawed at her as she drove. Her mother hadn’t suffered an attack in over two years. The intervening time had lulled Raine into a more complacent frame of mind. It had been easy to let herself believe that the worst was behind them and that Lorena Michaels would actually get better. Wiping her eyes, Raine glanced in her rearview mirror. A large blue car was following her closely, and she eased up on the gas a little, intending to let the driver by. The car sagged back.

She bit her lip, her attention returning to the road ahead of her, cursing the amount of time it would take her to reach the hospital and her mother. Her foot pressed down more firmly on the gas.

A bump against her rear fender jolted her from her worry then, and her gaze flew up, shocked. The car in back of her was on her tail again, and even as her hands tightened reflexively on the wheel, the car banged into her again. Despite her grasp on the wheel, her car pulled to the right.

“What’s the matter with you, are you crazy?” she shouted at the reflection in the rearview mirror. She righted the car and looked wildly about but there were no other vehicles in the vicinity. She sped up, hoping to outrun the lunatic in back of her. But the other car kept pace, then pulled alongside her. She sent wide eyes over to the car, and her view of the driver made the situation seem even more unreal. Her attention was jolted to her own car as the blue vehicle started edging toward her own. Instinctively, Raine lifted her foot from the gas and started to brake, but she wasn’t able to avoid the collision.

The car hit the side of hers with a screeching sound as metal ground against metal. The Lexus was far smaller than the other vehicle and lurched violently to the right. She pulled the wheel to the side frantically, barely able to stay on the road. She threw one more panic-stricken gaze at the other car before it hit her again. This time she slammed on the brakes as she felt her right wheels hit the sandy shoulder of the road. This pulled the car even harder to that side. Before she had a chance to react the blue car slammed into hers again. Raine pulled on the wheel, but the force of the impact sent the Lexus around in a dizzying circle before it flew into the ditch at the right of the road and crashed into a palm tree.

Seconds or minutes ticked by before Raine was aware of anything again. She raised her head groggily, suddenly realizing that it had been resting upon the air bag, which the accident had activated. Glass from the broken windshield littered the dash and the front seat. Shards dropped from her body as she sat up straighter, and she raised a shaky hand to her temple. Her shoulder harness hadn’t prevented her from hitting her head hard on the side window. Releasing the button for the seat belt with trembling fingers, she opened her car door and stumbled out, almost sprawling to the ground. She stood up on unsteady legs, swinging her gaze up and down the road frantically. The blue car had vanished.

She blinked, disoriented. The sunshine was still pouring down brightly, birds were still flying overhead. Everything seemed bizarrely normal in the world. But things weren’t normal at all. Just moments before she could have been . . .

She could have been killed.

Her teeth started to chatter despite the warm air, shock setting in, adding to the chill skating up her flesh. She was never sure how much time passed before she fumbled in her purse for her cell to call 911. Afterwards she leaned against the fender, her arms hugging herself tightly. She shuddered at the thought of explaining her actions to McCauley. Whoever had been in that old blue car had deliberately tried to push her off the road.

She wondered numbly if that was all the driver had set out to do.

The hospital doors swung open wildly as Mac pushed his way in. Stopping at the front desk, he asked a few terse questions of the nurse standing there, before she pointed to a waiting room behind him. He turned and his ice blue gaze swept the area swiftly before catching sight of Raine sitting in the corner with another nurse and a state trooper. As he strode over to them, a muscle jumped in his jaw. A livid bruise marred one side of her delicate profile and a good-size bump was above it. He pushed past the nurse and squatted in front of her. One finger tipped her chin up gently, then turned her face from side to side. His mouth was a hard, tight line. He dropped his hand and covered both of hers, which were clasped tightly in her lap.

“You look like hell, kid,” he told her.

She smiled tremulously. “I feel a lot better than I look. I think.” Actually, she hadn’t seen a mirror, but as she’d tried to convince the trooper, and the nurse in front of her, she felt fine. The terror of her ordeal was not the most pressing matter on her mind. “Please, Macauley, I have to find out about my mother. She’s here somewhere, they called me, and no one will help me . . . .” Her voice cracked. “I have to know how she is.”

Her confused explanation made little sense, but he responded to the lambent plea in her golden eyes. “It’s all right, everything’s fine,” he said soothingly. “Calm down and tell me what happened.”

“She insisted that I bring her here to St. Joseph’s right away,” the trooper interjected. “I figured from the looks of what was left of her car, that was a pretty good idea. But now that she’s here, she won’t let a doctor check her out.” He shook his head and lowered his voice, clearly believing that Raine was delusional. “She keeps insisting that her mother is here, and real sick. Then she gave us your outfit’s name, so I called your company. Maybe you can help her see reason.”

“I programmed my number in her cell.”

Raine looked surprised. “I didn’t realize that. I wasn’t thinking clearly. McCauley, my mother is here. “I got a phone call from Dr. Dietz, calling at my father’s request, asking me to meet him here for Mom. I didn’t have time to find you . . . .” Her voice faltered a little at the grim look on his face.

Mac fired a look at the nurse, who was standing silently by. “Did you check this out?”

“Yes, sir, I did,” she explained patiently. “No one by the name of Lorena Michaels has been admitted or treated in the emergency room.” Her voice was firm when she added, “And there is no Dr. Dietz on our staff.”

The nurse’s words lent an even more chilling interpretation of the recent events. Mac closed his eyes briefly, mentally cursing himself for ever leaving Raine alone, even in her own home. It was not, he thought savagely, opening his eyes and taking in her battered demeanor, a mistake he would ever make again.

“But there has to be a Dr. Dietz,” Raine explained wearily. She looked at Mac. “He called me.”

Mac gazed steadily at her, watching comprehension slowly dawn on her face, and with it, fear. His hands tightened around hers as she swayed a little in her seat.

“He called me,” she repeated in a whisper.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he agreed in a savage tone. “He sure did.” The bastard had called her, had set her up. And then she’d had an accident that could have killed her. Her hands trembled a little in his, and he loosened his grip, for the first time aware of how tightly he was holding them. She looked as if she had taken another blow as awareness began to settle in. But then she raised her chin slightly and made a deliberate effort to compose her features.

A corner of his mouth went up. The lady had guts. That had never been more apparent than right now.

“You need to be seen by a physician, ma’am,” the nurse standing on the other side of Raine said kindly. “And then if everything is all right, your husband can take you home and pamper you shamelessly. How will that be?”

“He’s not my husband,” Raine corrected her. “He’s—”

“Not taking you home until a doctor sees you,” Mac put in firmly.

“But—”

“While the doctor is tending to you, I’ll call your father,” he promised. “I’ll ask him how your mom has been. And I’ll need to let him know what’s happened.”

She was already shaking her head. “You’ll just upset him.”

“Raine.” His voice was firm. “He has to know.”

“And while he’s putting your mind at ease,” the nurse said, taking her by the elbow, “there’s an examining room with your name on it.”

Raine rose to her feet, but pulled her elbow from the nurse’s grasp. “No.” Her voice was strained. “I don’t want to go in there.”

“Now, ma’am.” The nurse used a soothing tone, as if speaking to a recalcitrant child. “The sooner you come in with me, the sooner your—this gentleman can take you home.”

Mac watched the scene silently, something about it bothering him. Raine’s face was tight and drawn, not surprising under the circumstances. But the earlier composure he’d seen her fight for had faded, and her features were chalk white, her mouth flat. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that something else was afoot here.

“Raine.” His voice was soft. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

Her gaze swung to his and clung for a second. Then she looked at the nurse and the trooper. Impatience was starting to show on the nurse’s plump face, and the trooper looked quizzical. She looked down then, visibly struggling for control.

“No.” She spoke with visible effort, but her voice was even. “I can do this.”

Mac looked at her closely, thinking her choice of words odd. But her jaw was firming again in determination. And without another word she allowed the nurse to escort her out of sight. Watching her leave, he had to fight the urge to follow. The trooper spoke then, snaring his attention.

“Well, I think she’ll be all right. Seems a bit shaken up, but that’s to be expected.” His voice was matter-of-fact. He’d obviously noticed nothing out of the ordinary. “From the sounds of it, it was a hit-and-run of some kind.”

Mac’s gaze sharpened. “Were there any witnesses to the accident?”