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“Once you convince her she’s already married…to you…it should be easy. Exercise your husbandly prerogatives. Hell, tell her Palazzi has hitmen looking for her and the old man.That should do the trick.”
MacGyver clenched his fists at his sides and turned away from Travis to face the fireplace. Goddammit! Friend, brother—it didn’t matter at that moment. He’d never wanted to smash that grin off Travis’s face as bad as he did right then. And yet, the man was right. Kellie’s life was on the line, but that didn’t give them an excuse to lie and manipulate the situation for their benefit.
Travis heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Okay. That idea doesn’t hold any appeal for you? We can babysit her for a few hours, but if the congressman doesn’t get back to us, I guess there’s nothing left to do but call the cops and let them take her off our hands. If Palazzi reported the stolen money, they might already be looking for her.”
“Wait a minute.” Anger heated MacGyver’s blood, and he turned—at the same time he told himself he shouldn’t care. But he did, damn it.
Travis glanced toward him.
“She didn’t take the money. Don’t ask me how, but I know that much from watching her in the bar. The cops will either arrest her or take her statement and kick her loose. Even if they could be convinced to give her protection—shit, Travis—you know they can’t protect her from him. But I can.” MacGyver could hear the concern in his voice and was certain Travis could too. He shrugged as though that would distance himself from any suspicion that he gave a damn what happened to Kellie.
A gleam appeared in Travis’s eyes for a split second, and he glanced toward the bed. “Is there something you want to tell me about this woman?”
What could MacGyver say? He didn’t understand the tight feeling in his chest or the tension that arrowed through his body every time he imagined Palazzi catching up to her. His need to protect her had takenhimby surprise. How the hell could he explain it to his hard-ass friend?
The truth was, he didn’t need Travis to agree with him. MacGyver had been his own man since his father died when he was sixteen. He was fully capable of doing what needed to be done on his own—but he didn’t like that idea either. Travis had had his back for as long as he could remember. Kellie, with her unbelievably soft skin and enticing moans as she slept, was likely to hand him his head on her way out in the morning. He groaned and ignored Travis’s question.
“She’s not our problem, in spite of the congressman’s last minute wishes. We were hired to find Jeremy Dahl,” Travis said.
Sonofabitch!Travis could be a stubborn asshole when he got his mind set on something. This time MacGyver wasn’t going along with his ridiculous plan. Lying to Kellie and using her was unacceptable, and not just because she deserved more respect than that.
“Fuck you, Travis.” As irritated as MacGyver was, his words carried no heat. “I’ll help her without lying and without expecting anything in return. You can get onboard…or not.”
Travis had the nerve to laugh. “She might panic when she wakes up in your room tomorrow. Your bed. Are you really going to tell her the truth—that you’re a complete stranger who shoved her out a bathroom window after she passed out so you could bring her here? Do you really think that sounds better than ‘Good morning, Mrs. Iverson? Enjoying your honeymoon so far?’ Women get off on that till-death-do-we-part shit. You know I’m right.”
MacGyver groaned and scrubbed his hand down his face. “Yeah, yeah. She might panic. In fact, it’s probably inevitable—but I doubt she’ll prefer either of your explanations. When she wakes up, she’s not going to know who the hell I am. It won’t matter what I tell her. The only chance I’ll have will be to convince her she’s safe and that I want to help. Everything else is bullshit.”
A satisfied grin rode Travis’s lips. “You know, buddy, for someone who’s sworn off serious relationships, you’re a little sensitive on the subject. Just sayin’. And for the record, you’re right. Personally, I don’t think you stand a chance in hell of convincing her of anything, but if you manage the impossible, you don’t need to ask if I’m onboard. I’ll have your back, just like always.” His grin faded, and he turned and strode toward his room. Stopping in the doorway, he looked back. “I’ll be out for a while. Thought I’d do a little poking around at the Greyson home.” The door clicked shut behind him.
What the hell just happened?MacGyver had the uneasy feeling he’d argued in a circle and had given away some clue that Travis had been hot for, though what that was, and why, MacGyver had no idea.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, hoping to ease the dread that had his stomach wound tighter than his gram’s antique alarm clock. He was finally alone—though not really. Kellie’s angelic face made him feel like a fraud without even trying to convince her he wanted to be her savior. His next task—getting her out of that dress, cleaned up and between the sheets—would no doubt make him feel even worse. By the time he was finished, Travis’s words would be prophetic.
He wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of convincing her of anything.
Chapter Four
Kellie stretched and burrowed deep into the delightful warmth. Her bed had never been so comfortable. She pulled one hand from beneath the covers and rubbed her heavy-lidded eyes. That was a mistake. The pressure against her eyelids started a tambourine jangling in her head.Not good.
She tried to roll onto her stomach to bury her head under the pillow, but something was holding her down. Something that draped over her hip and spread a welcome heat across her belly. Ever so slowly, she cracked her eyes open. The resulting throb reverberated between her ears and settled in the center of her forehead, making her stomach lurch, and she slammed her eyes closed.
Wait a minute. Where am I?Where were her Tandoori Red walls? The picture of her mother on the nightstand beside her bed that grounded her every morning? Nothing in her brief glimpse of the room was familiar. As the pain eased somewhat, she peeked through mere slits this time at the walls that were too far away and not nearly the right color. She held her breath and tensed, a groan starting deep in her chest, ending in a whimper. The warmth holding her in place tightened around her middle and tugged her against something hard and unyielding. With hair?
Oh, hell!Eyes wide open, Kellie threw the covers back, grabbed the thumb of the hand that splayed across her abdomen and wrenched it back toward the tattoo that ran the length of the forearm. The intruder in her bed growled and jerked his arm away with such strength she lost her grip. She rolled from the mattress, landing on her butt on the floor, and crab-crawled away from the tattooed arm. Her already aching head cracked against the wall, stopping her retreat. She sprang to her feet, glanced around for a weapon, and, finding nothing, instinctively assumed the fighting stance that had become automatic her first few weeks in boot camp.
Feet shoulder width apart and turned slightly, dominant foot behind, she balanced solidly on the balls of her feet and waited for his next move.
Stretched on his side and propped on one elbow, the sheet scarcely covering his hips, he had the nerve to smile. It faded, though, as his heated gaze traveled slowly down her body.
What the…?A cursory glance confirmed her fears. All she had on was a white lacey thong!
Her quick inhale nearly choked her as she flung her arms across her chest. “Don’t move! Stay right where you are!” Kellie dove toward the blanket that hung over the foot of the bed, grasped it and dragged it in front of her.
Sufficiently covered, she glared at the strange man in her bed. Early thirties, give or take a year, with dark brown hair, cut short, and piercing blue eyes, a dimple appeared beneath his five-o’clock shadow emphasizing the lift of one corner of his full lips into a crooked grin. He looked tall, all stretched out on a king-size bed. His body was sculpted muscle from his shoulders to the one leg that rested on top of the sheet. Black briefs peeked from where the sheet had slid away, molded tightly to well-formed glutes.
Her dumbfounded scrutiny climbed right back up his relaxed frame and settled on his well-defined abs as he rolled casually onto his back and laced his fingers behind his head. Unable to look away, she stared at the impressive tent that formed in the sheet over his obviously aroused male anatomy. She swallowed hard.
His easy laugh snapped her attention to his face. Her cheeks burned. That he’d caught her gaping was evident in his amused expression.
