Nautier and Wilder (2 page)

“What’s that for?” she questioned warily as he finished.

Tucking the book back in place, Jed straightened and stared down at her with a sense
of heavy disappointment.

“When you decide you can give me a chance to prove that I have no intention of tying
you down, Piper, then give me a call.” Yeah, he knew at least part of her problem.

Strong men, men born with the same arrogant determination her Mackay brother and cousins
possessed.

Capping the pen, he tossed it to the bureau close to the bed, then turned and moved
back to the clothing he’d abandoned moments before.

He was aware of her watching him as he pulled on his jeans, secured the belt he’d
already pushed through the belt loops, then pushed his arms into the white, long-sleeved
dress shirt he’d chosen to wear.

White was for meetings; dark colors were for on the job. And all of it was bullshit,
despite the sense of fulfillment he was getting from it. Far more fulfillment than
the daily lies and undercover crap he was forced to practice.

“Why would I be afraid you could even come close to tying me down, Jed?” she finally
asked, her lips curling into an amused little smile of disbelief. “Really? Do you
think I’m attaching more to this”—she waved her arm toward the bed—“than what you
intend?”

Using the chair once again, he sat down, pulled on his boots, and never took his eyes
from her.

“Let’s hope you were,” he told her as he finished and rose to his feet once again.
“Because, trust me, Piper, I have more intentions than you could ever imagine.”

There was the fear.

It flashed in the bright green of her eyes and tightened her expression as she fought
to hold back the response. Hell, she was fighting to hide that fear from him, and
he hated it.

“Good Lord,” she muttered, suddenly reaching down for her bag. “I’m out of here. Remind
me to make damned sure you’ve left before I come in to clean your room again.”

“I wouldn’t put chains on you, Piper.”

She paused, her hand on the doorknob, her face turned from him as her head lowered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The edge of anger in her voice wasn’t nearly
as well hidden as he was certain she would have liked.

“Yeah, you do, Piper.” He rejected the instant denial she gave the moment she turned
her back on him. “You think if you take me as a lover then you’ll be exchanging your
brother’s protectiveness for one far more permanent.”

“My brother’s protectiveness? Is that what you call it?” She turned back to him then.
“Trust me: They named my brother well when they nicknamed him Dawg. He’s tenacious,
and guards his territory like a junkyard dog. And he sees every damned one of his
sisters, as well as our mother, as his territory. It wouldn’t matter who we took as
lovers, he’d still be hovering over us like a damned pit bull.”

There was no anger or heat in the words, only a sense of regret and uncertainty. In
the past year, her life hadn’t exactly been her own, as her brother did everything
in his power to ensure the danger that had threatened her older sister didn’t touch
the younger ones.

“Nevertheless,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t put ties on you. I wouldn’t treat you
as though you didn’t have the good sense to understand whether your life was in danger
or not, and the intelligence to know whether you can live life as usual, sit tight,
or just plain hide.”

She watched him warily. “You’re the same type of male Dawg, Rowdy, and Natches are.”
She finally informed him, and it was clear she believed it to the bottom of her soul.
“Having you for a lover would be like sleeping with human handcuffs.”

God help him, he swore he could see the pain and disillusionment filling her very
soul. It was in the weariness of her voice and the soul-deep certainty that filled
it.

“I would defend you with my life,” he admitted. “But I would also defend your right
to a life, Piper. When you decide you’re tired of being a frightened little girl rather
than the independent woman I know you are, then let me know. Perhaps once you’ve figured
out which you are, then we can resume all the pleasure we were interrupted in this
morning.”

Her shoulders tightened, defiance and denial immediately flashing in her gaze.

Jed didn’t hang around to hear her argument or her reasons for her beliefs; they would
just piss him the fuck off.

He knew the past year had been hell on her and her younger sisters. Eve, the eldest,
had pranced from the suite she’d lived in for the past five years and moved in with
the government agent she was now engaged to, perfectly content to fight her battles
of independence and keep her opinions private within the secured houseboat they were
currently living in at the lake.

Eve had left her younger sisters to face the fallout with her brother and cousins.
Her sisters, though, had never been given a full explanation of why that overprotectiveness
had suddenly increased, or when it would end. Though he knew Piper had her suspicions.

Jed couldn’t explain what had happened either, not yet, not until he knew Piper understood
his intentions where she was concerned.

But hell, in order to make her understand them, he was going to have to figure them
out himself.

One thing was certain: He intended to have her in his bed. And he sure as hell didn’t
intend to let her go anytime soon once he had her there.

Hell, why couldn’t he imagine ever letting her go, period?

ONE

ONE MONTH LATER

S
he was going to cave.

Piper could feel it coming. She could feel that bond of pleasure Jed had created four
weeks before tightening between them, pulling them together.

She’d taken Eve’s suite on the first floor of Mackay’s Bed-and-Breakfast Inn after
her sister had moved in with her lover, Brogan Campbell.

Brogan had been staying in the suite next to Eve’s for the two years he had been there
doing whatever it was he was doing. She had a feeling he was a hell of a lot more
than a building contractor or supervisor or whatever the hell he claimed to be. She
was all but certain he was a covert agent and working directly with her mother’s lover,
Timothy Cranston.

And she highly suspected both Jedediah Booker and the other contractor staying at
the inn, Elijah Grant, were Brogan’s partners.

There had been strange things going on in Somerset—hell, in Pulaski County, period—for
the past few years: thefts that didn’t make sense, strangers who knew far too much
about the people and the mountains where Piper now made her home. And far too many
“disappearances” of several of the criminal elements in the county.

It was damned freaky.

And she knew Jed was involved in it.

She watched them, she listened to the gossip and rumors that moved through the county,
and she had a hell of an ability to tie together things that at first might not appear
connected.

It was a talent she’d often heard Dawg had as well.

It didn’t matter what kind of talent she had. She could be as fully trained as any
agent who had ever worked with her brother and he’d still treat her like a five-year-old.

And so would Jed.

Pulling the older-model Jeep into the driveway of the post office, she set the parking
brake before turning off the ignition and moving from the vehicle.

Sliding the small orange notification card from her purse, she looped the bag’s strap
over her shoulder and pushed open the glass door leading into the building.

“Hey there, Piper.”

“Piper, how’s it goin’ . . .”

“Hello, Piper, missed you last weekend. . . .”

“Hey, Piper, Dawg going to let you come out and play this weekend?”

She heard it every time she ran into the usual crowd of summer weekend partiers. Because
Piper, normally the life of the party, had been absent or joined by her brother or
cousins every time she tried to slip out to one of the lake parties. A Mackay always
arrived within minutes of her showing up, and what was the point of staying if she
was being guarded? She returned the greetings, answered where she had to, and waited
patiently in line to sign for the certified letter she’d been notified was waiting
for her.

The New York City address hadn’t really meant anything to her; neither had the name
of the sender: S. Chaniss.

Accepting the envelope from the young clerk behind the counter, Piper thanked her
quietly before making her way back to the Jeep.

Closing herself in and restarting the ignition, Piper flipped on the AC and quickly
tore open the envelope.

She scanned the letter first; then, as disbelief set in and her heart began racing
furiously, she read it more slowly.

Her hand began to tremble. Excitement began to build.

She’d been making her own clothing designs since she was a child, and for nearly as
long she had been sewing those designs together. She’d learned early how to use a
needle and thread, and she’d torn her fingertips to ribbons as a child to perfect
each and every stitch.

Now . . . now someone had noticed them. Someone of such renown in the fashion world
that she had never imagined he would show an interest in her work.

Eldon Vessante, one of the biggest names in the New York fashion scene, had, for several
years, been bringing in hot new designers, up to three a year, and staging exclusive
runway shows for them.

By mentoring new talent he’d made an even bigger name for himself, and each designer
he’d mentored was still a hot topic among the fashion world. And their designs were
still being worn by models, movie stars, and the rich and famous.

Piper had sent several of her designs to the Vessante panel more than a year ago.

No one knew she had submitted the required six designs to the Vessante team. She hadn’t
even told her mother. Hell, she’d forgotten about it months ago when no response had
been forthcoming.

His assistant had sent the letter—she quickly checked the date—two days ago?

Oh, my God—they had chosen her designs!

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to jump out of the Jeep and announce it to everyone on the street as they
made their way into the post office and various businesses that lined the sidewalk.

She wanted to call her mother and Dawg. . . .

Whoa
.

Bad idea.

Very, very bad idea.

She really wanted to call Jed, and that was an even worse idea, because there was
no way, despite his promise, that he wouldn’t let Dawg in on where she was going and
what she was doing.

She read the letter again.

The excitement was about to get the best of her.

This was her dream. It was that one-in-a-million shot to realize every dream she’d
ever had of what she could accomplish with the talent she had.

And she couldn’t tell anyone.

She lifted her head, moving her gaze from the letter to stare through the Jeep windshield,
her excitement suddenly overshadowed by a heavy sadness. If she dared to say anything
to anyone, then she would end up with more bodyguards on that trip than the queen
of England. And wouldn’t that make a hell of an impression?

If she thought for a moment that Dawg, Rowdy, or Natches would consider just one of
them accompanying her, then it might have swayed her. She knew better, though. For
the past summer, they seemed to be everywhere together. Piper had even gone so far
as to ask them whether they were married to their wives or to one another.

She’d even questioned why. Why had her sister been kidnapped the summer before? Who
had done it? Why had they done it? All she’d received in answer was a closed expression
and change of topic. And the certainty that her brother and cousins, along with Timothy
Cranston, were involved in something far more dangerous than they wanted their sisters
to be aware of.

Carefully pushing the letter back into the large envelope it had arrived in, she turned
it over and stared at the address once again.

S. Chaniss, the address read. New York City.

There was no way anyone at the post office could really place exactly whom the letter
was from or what it contained. Hiding it and the contents from curious eyes wouldn’t
be too hard.

Putting the Jeep in gear and pulling from the post office parking lot, she turned
the vehicle toward home.

This sucked.

The rebellious resentment that had been brewing inside her for the past year flamed
through her senses with a suddenness that made it nearly burst into full-fledged anger.

It simply wasn’t fair. She should have been able to shout this accomplishment far
and wide. At the very least she should have been able to race to the boutique where
she sold many of the unique clothing designs she created.

She couldn’t even do that.

Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she drove out of town and made the
turn toward Mackay’s Bed-and-Breakfast Inn.

As the renovated farmhouse came into view, Piper couldn’t help but acknowledge the
fact that had it not been for her brother Dawg, then her mother would have died and
she and her sisters would have been worse than homeless.

They’d been abandoned by Chandler Mackay long before the Department of Homeland Security
had found the small house he’d purchased for her mother when he’d brought her from
Guatemala. When they’d been thrown from that home, her mother, Mercedes, had been
horribly ill with a lung infection the doctors had been unable to treat.

It was only after Timothy Cranston had brought them to Somerset and introduced them
to Dawg that their lives had changed. Dawg had ensured that her mother’s medical care
was paid for while Piper and her sisters had found security, and they had all found
a family unlike any Piper could have imagined.

There was another side of that coin, though.

With the security, acceptance, and love the Mackays had given her and her family there
was the heavy-handed overprotectiveness her brother and male cousins exhibited.

It was so heavy-handed that for the past year she and her sisters—except the eldest,
whom Piper actually blamed their present state on—had no hope of actually living outside
the stifling watchfulness they were suddenly surrounded with.

Slip out to a lake party and what happened? Before they could finish their first beer
either Dawg, their cousins, or one of their cohorts—Sheriff Mayes, Chief of Police
Alex Jansen, or some other tough-assed Mackay male friend—was there with an eagle
eye.

Forget even considering the unmentioned search she had begun for a lover. She was
fated to remain a virgin for the rest of her days, evidently.

At twenty-four, Piper considered herself far too old to have not taken a lover. And
as much as she would have loved—
loved
—to have taken Jedediah Booker to her bed, the last thing she needed was one of her
brother’s watchdogs keeping a leash on her.

Pulling into the inn’s parking lot, Piper tried to push back the regret and the hunger
she couldn’t keep from building inside her body. The sensitive flesh between her thighs
felt swollen, aching for a touch. Her clit actually throbbed, and she knew damned
good and well that only a man was going to put out that particular fire.

God help her, she didn’t want a man as restrictive and just as protective as her brother
and cousins. She wanted a lover, a friend, and a partner. She didn’t need a keeper.

It was Saturday night.

She had a week to make plans to slip from Somerset and make her way to New York. She
was going to have to essentially escape. If that was possible. Because if Dawg had
even a suspicion she was leaving town for any reason, then he would have one of his
buddies and/or employees or agent-type acquaintances on her ass so fast it would leave
road rash on her senses.

That, she didn’t need.

She knew the world she wanted to move within, and she knew for damned sure that neither
her brother and cousins nor their overprotective friends would move well within it.

So, how to escape a town where the Mackays had eyes and ears everywhere?

Everywhere.

No doubt it wouldn’t be easy.

It would require a small amount of lying through her teeth.

Piper smiled.

Hell, she could do it.

She was, after all, a Mackay.