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It was a feeling, a gut reaction that he knew better than to ignore.
Roberto Falcone was a ghost, a highly elite, specialized soldier trained by the CIA, then turned loose on a world that couldn’t have suspected the killer that would move among them. Certainly his and Falcon’s mothers hadn’t known when they became involved with him, then conceived his two sons. Yet they’d stayed. Even after their sons had refused to have any contact with them because of Roberto and their continued connection to him, they’d stayed. Falcon’s mother had even had another child. A daughter.
Their mothers hadn’t given up though. Letters, emails, messages to phone numbers they should never be able to access, even attempts to meet with them when they knew they’d be at a certain party or event. And Raeg and Falcon didn’t dare allow that connection once again. Roberto shouldn’t have been threatened enough by the agent Raeg was sleeping with all those years ago to kill her. But he had. They wouldn’t risk their mothers as well, and they couldn’t risk Summer once Dragovich was taken care of either.
Raeg couldn’t allow it.
The past.
He shook his head wearily, wishing he could understand it, that he could make sense of it. He’d learned years ago that there was no doing either. And now, all that mattered was protecting Summer from it.
Because if there was one thing Roberto hated more than he hated the CIA, it was CIA agents. Especially female agents he believed were a risk to his sons. And Raeg knew well how Roberto dealt with those female agents.
That knowledge lived in his nightmares, and he didn’t think he could survive if Summer became a casualty to it.
Actually, he knew he wouldn’t survive it.
Chapter
FIVE
What had make her think that anything would change with Raeg? Summer wondered the next morning after she woke to both him and Falcon already up, showered, and dressed.
Falcon had been watchful, but as charming as ever. Raeg was in a mood though. A very odd mood. One that left her feeling uncertain and off-balance. So much so that she insisted on leaving for her parents’ the moment she joined them downstairs.
Not that either of them argued with her.
If they wanted to pretend that last night hadn’t happened, then she’d just help them right along with that, she decided after leaving her house and walking the distance to her parents’. She’d gotten real good at ignoring Raeg, anyway. She’d perfected the art over the years. At least, that was what she told herself as she stepped onto the back porch where her father was sitting comfortably in his rocking chair. “There’s my baby girl.” Daddy, or Caleb “Cal” Calhoun Sr., opened his arms for a hug that enfolded Summer in a secure and loving gentleness she’d felt only with her parents.
Raeg and Falcon stepped onto the porch behind her, waiting patiently as father and daughter hugged.
“And there’s those friends of yours. Caleb was certain they wouldn’t make it this morning.” There was a watchful tension in her father’s gaze that almost caused her to cringe with worry.
Daddy could be a problem when he got that look. It meant he was curious, and his curiosity could become a problem if her momma didn’t keep it reined in.
&n
bsp; At sixty, Cal was still a force to be reckoned with despite his claim of bum knees and a busted shoulder and she knew it. And it worried her.
His face was lined from his years in the military, but his dark blue eyes still held a twinkle of amusement and, sometimes, downright fun that never failed to draw others in.
His black hair was heavily layered with silver, his brows were still a raven’s black, his farmer’s tan giving his face a dark, leathery look of a lifetime spent in the weather. He was still fit though, shoulders broad, his frame perhaps not as muscular as in his youth, but her momma seemed right proud of how well built he appeared.
Her daddy had always been strong in her eyes though, even at a time when he seemed lost within himself. He was still the man who had taught her how to protect herself from the time she could walk until the time came that training would require harder lessons than he was comfortable teaching her. Because of him, she’d saved herself more than once instead of needing someone else to save her.
He and his “bride,” as he still called her momma, were still crazy in love and had managed to raise three boys and two girls that were, as he put it, “wild as the wind but damned good kids.”
“Good morning, sir.” Falcon shook hands with her father first. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Mr. Calhoun.” Raeg nodded, shaking Cal’s hand as well, though the fact that he was remaining as aloof and distant as possible was easy to see.
She hoped Raeg knew how to mind his manners with her daddy, otherwise, she might have to find the black iron skillet in the kitchen and teach him better.
“Raeg.” Her daddy nodded. “Davis Allen speaks highly of both ya’ll, but he seems especially fond of you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Raeg nodded back. “I’ve gotten kind of used to him as well.”
Now, didn’t he just sound about as enthusiastic as a hound over a rock bone? Damn him. He was scooting close to being offensive to her daddy.
