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He knew her better than Falcon gave him credit.
His brother was silent, thoughtful. The explanation had at least gotten his brother off his back though, Raeg thought in relief. He didn’t want to think about what he was going to do once they told her what was coming, who was coming. And he didn’t want to consider the consequences of the only plan they’d been able to come up with to ensure she didn’t end up dead.
Summer was a hell of an agent and he fully admitted that, but she wasn’t Wonder Woman and she wasn’t bullet resistant. And the enemy wanted to make a point, hence the reason a sniper hadn’t been dispatched to just pick her off.
“We should go in now then,” Falcon said softly, anticipation rumbling just below the soft tone of his voice as he started the Suburban and put it in gear. “She runs again, and we may not find her until she is but a corpse. If then.”
That was a probability, Raeg thought, pushing back the arousal and the anticipation he couldn’t help but feel.
It had been five months since he’d seen her. In the past eight years, five months had never passed that he hadn’t seen her, argued with her, touched her, even if it was in the most impersonal way. She always seemed to bring the sunshine with her, he thought wearily. What was it Falcon called her sometimes? Summer-shine. That was what it was like, feeling the warmth of that season when she was around, whether she was charming them to distraction or driving Raeg insane with the sugary little jabs.
And Summer was like a drug. Didn’t matter if it was the argument or merely seeing her now, her physical presence lit up a room with her smile and her bright violet eyes. It was still a fix, and he hadn’t had his in far too long.
“Fuck this up, Raeg, and you and I will have words.” Falcon surprised him, not just with the warning, but also with the fact that he was dead serious. “Do not antagonize her to the point that she refuses to allow us to watch her back.”
Raeg stared at his brother thoughtfully. In all the years they’d argued over Summer, Falcon had never given him an ultimatum before.
“We’re always having words where Summer’s concerned,” he finally pointed out, knowing even as he said it, it was a mistake. “What would make this time any different?”
“This time, I doubt I would forgive you. Especially if she’s hurt because of it.” Falcon flicked him a determined look as they turned into the drive leading to the beach house. “And I will definitely not forgive you should anything happen to her because of your animosity toward her.”
And that, Raeg knew, Falcon wouldn’t threaten lightly.
The fact that Raeg was going to eventually lose the woman was a definite, but he never considered losing his brother as well.
Dammit.
Now things were just going to get complicated.
“And if something happens to her because we are trying to protect her?” he asked his brother. “What will we do then?”
Falcon shook his head. “As far as we kn
ow, the past is dead.”
“The past never really dies, Falcon,” he sighed heavily. “Only its victims. Let’s try to keep that in mind until we at least have Dragovich taken care of.”
Then, maybe, he could ensure Falcon at least stayed with her, if that was what he decided to do. Raeg couldn’t discount the possibility. If he simply played the third, hid his own ever deepening hunger, his own need for more, maybe, he could protect his brother and the woman both of them ached so desperately for.
* * *
Dammit.
Now how had Falcon managed to find her?
Summer stepped into the private beach house before throwing a glare back at the white curtains billowing in the breeze and blowing through the open French doors.
He should have never found her so quickly. Hell, he shouldn’t have even been looking for her after the last run-in she’d had with him.
Evidently Esteban de la Cortez Falcone, or “Falcon” as most who knew him, called him, was far more stubborn than she’d believed him to be.
But five months?
Really?
After four months he should have given up. Especially after believing she’d committed the unpardonable sin of chopping off all her hair to only a few inches in length. He’d always sworn he’d never forgive her for that.
Not that she would ever dare cut more than just the ends of her hair. Her family would just disown her, she was sure, if she did such a thing. Besides, she loved her hair. There wasn’t a chance she’d willingly mutilate it in such a way.
