Allegiances

  “He said we needed to look to the family. We haven’t done that, Sullivan.”

  “My brothers—”

  “I’m not talking about Grant or Davis. Not Mac, not Brodie. Not you.”

  He waited.

  “You didn’t know that your father worked Witness Protection. Maybe there’s more you don’t know about him, too. Maybe...do you think it’s possible you could have family members out there that you don’t know about?”

  His heart felt as if it were encased in ice. “You’re saying my father might have another son.”

  “I’m saying Alexandra stared right at you—she used the last bit of her strength to tell you the killer’s description. And Ronald—what did he have to lose? At the end, he said it was family. All this time, I think you’ve been searching too far away for the killer. I’m wondering if, all along, he’s been closer than you realized.”

  As close as blood.

  He shoved open his door and headed around to her side of the vehicle. Before he could open that door, Celia was already rising. His hand brushed against her back. They were safe at the ranch. As safe as it was possible to be, and there, he could let down his guard.

  “I needed to be close to you,” Sullivan confessed.

  Her hands rose and pressed to his chest.

  “When I thought that you were going to be taken from me...” His jaw ached because he’d clenched it so hard. “Nothing else mattered to me. Finding you. Getting you back—that was it.”

  “Let’s go inside,” Celia said.

  Right. Inside.

  But...

  She took a few steps away from him, heading toward the guesthouse.

  He stared after her. The stars were glittering overhead. There was no smoke from a car bomb. No scent of blood and death.

  It was just them.

  “Do you think we’re still married?” Sullivan asked, his voice gruff.

  She paused and gave a faint, sad laugh. “It’s kind of funny...but to tell you the truth, I always felt like we still were.”

  She had to be careful what she said. Did the woman realize how close she was pushing him to the edge?

  Over that edge?

  “Even when we were apart, I still felt connected to you. No matter what I did, no matter how many times I told myself to let go, you were still there.” She turned toward him. “Why couldn’t I let go?”

  He stalked toward her. Sullivan lifted his hand and brushed back the hair that blew over her cheek. Before, they’d been all about passion and need.

  But desire alone—it didn’t survive that long. It didn’t last for years.

  “I want you to make love to me,” Celia said.

  Love. For him, that was exactly what it was. The reason he hadn’t ever been able to let her go. He’d been far too caught up in Celia from the beginning.

  His Celia.

  “Always,” he said, and Sullivan leaned down. His lips brushed over hers. He didn’t push. Didn’t consume. He just savored her. If he could have frozen one moment in time, it would be the moment when he kissed her. When he tasted her lips and a surge of warmth filled him.

  His eyes were closed and her soft body pressed to his.

  “Come inside,” Celia said.

  As if he needed another invitation.

  He followed her in and stopped to secure the guesthouse. He put his shoulders back against the door and stared at her as she stood in a pool of light. There were so many things he wanted to know about her. The past hadn’t gotten in their way before. He’d been too focused on the moment, the present with her.

  But now he wanted more.

  He wanted to secure a future with her.

  “I—I need to shower first,” Celia said. Then she touched the prison garb she still wore. “And this has got to go.”

  She turned on her heel and headed down the hallway. A few seconds later, he heard the roar of water in the shower.

  He started to follow, already yanking up his shirt.

  The floor creaked a bit beneath his feet. By the time he reached the bathroom, Sullivan was already naked.

  So was Celia. Naked and under the spray of the shower. Her back was to him, so he had a perfect view of her graceful back and her truly inspiring hips and rear. Such perfect curves.

  Steam drifted lazily in the air.

  Celia glanced over her shoulder at him, and she smiled.

  There was something about that smile. It froze him a moment, then made his heart beat in a double-time rhythm.

  “Come closer,” she urged him. Nothing had ever tempted him more.

  * * *

  AS SOON AS he saw the doctor, Monroe knew she was gone.

  The doctor’s face was grim as he approached. Monroe stood. Mac and Davis McGuire were at his sides.

  “The damage was too extensive,” the doctor told him quietly. “I’m sorry, but she’s gone...”

  Davis put his hand on Monroe’s shoulder, squeezing tightly.

  And Monroe lost the last member of his family.

  You bastard. I will find you. I will make you pay.

  Chapter Eleven

  The water pounded down on her, washing away the terror of the day. She forgot about fire and death and being caged behind bars.

  She looked into Sullivan’s eyes and she couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to look away.

  The water was warm on her skin. The steam had filled the air around her.

  And she wanted him.

  Celia turned fully toward Sullivan, exposing her body to him. She felt no shyness. With him, she never had. She wanted him to see all of her.

  Still married?

  In her heart, they always had been. She’d never been able to give him up. She’d always been willing to take any risk, for him.

  Her gaze dipped down and she saw that he was more than turned on for her. Good.

  Her smile stretched.

  Sullivan could always take her away—to a world of only pleasure. A world that consisted of only them.

  She needed to be taken right then. Taken so far away.

  He stepped into the shower with her. The water poured over them both and her hand lifted, sliding over his skin. He bent to kiss her, a hot, openmouthed kiss that only fanned the flames of her desire for him.

  Her hands slid over his body. She wanted to touch every bit of him. His scars still hurt her—she hated to think of him suffering—and she bent to kiss them as the water slid over her back. She stroked his aroused flesh. Celia loved his strength and that raw power, but when he gave a deep, rumbling growl in his throat...

  She just stroked him all the more.

  “Celia.”

  She’d always enjoyed playing games with him. Seeing how far he could be pushed. How far he could push her.

  Sullivan caught her hands. He pushed her back against the cold tile wall of the shower. She gasped at the contact, and then he kissed her. Deep. Hard. The way she liked.

  He freed her wrists and his hands curled around her hips. He lifted her up, holding her right there, and his mouth still took hers even as he positioned his body at her core.

  He drove into her. Her legs wrapped around him.

  Pleasure.

  Desire.

  More.

  He withdrew, then thrust into her. The water made their bodies so slick. Her breasts pressed to his chest. Her nipples ached for him. Her whole body ached.

  Thrust.

  Withdraw.

  Her hands weren’t against the tile any longer. She was holding tightly to his shoulders, and her nails were sinking into his skin.

  Every movement of his hips sent him sliding right over the center of her need. Her climax was rising, building and building...

  He kissed a heated path down her neck, and she lost it.

  Celia screamed when her climax hit.

  And Sullivan...let go. She felt his control splinter as he thrust hard, deep, again and again, and it was fabulous.

  No fear.

  No regrets.

&
nbsp; Only pleasure.

  His body stiffened. He drove into her once more and she saw the pleasure wash across his face. For an instant, his green eyes seemed to go blind with that surge of release.

  Their breaths heaved out. The water kept spraying down on them.

  Her legs slid—rather limply—away from his hips. She felt like falling into a little puddle right there. Her body was sated and her mind had finally stopped spinning.

  She blinked the water out of her eyes—surely just water from the shower and nothing more—and stared up into Sullivan’s gaze.

  I love you.

  She wanted to say those words so badly.

  But then he kissed her. Such a sweet, tender kiss.

  A few moments later, he turned off the water. Very carefully, he dried her with a towel, then yanked that same towel roughly over his body. When she stepped out of the shower, he lifted her into his arms.

  She didn’t need him to carry her. She’d never needed anyone to do that. But she liked being in his arms, so she relaxed her body against his. Her arms curled around his neck.

  Soon they were in the bedroom. He lowered her onto the mattress. Turned off the lights. Then they slid under the covers together.

  Exhaustion pulled at her. She just wanted to close her eyes and drift away, but at the same time, she wanted to stay exactly where she was. Awake and aware with Sullivan. She felt as if a clock were on, the time running away too quickly. She needed to reach out to him—

  So she did. Celia put her head on Sullivan’s chest, right over his heart so she could feel and hear that steady beat. His arm wrapped around her back and he held her there.

  Warm and safe.

  “There’s so much I want to know about you...”

  She smiled at the rumble of his voice. “Ask me anything.” Her answer was soft. Sleep pulled at her.

  “Where were you born, Celia?”

  “A town called Jackson, Mississippi.” She hadn’t been back there, not in so long. Would it still be the same if she returned? Would she still smell the magnolias drifting in the wind?

  “What happened to your family?”

  Pain tried to pull at her, but she pushed it away. “My father died in an accident at work. At the sawmill.” She wouldn’t think of that horror—a horror that had scarred a child. “I was seven. My mother never got over it.” She’d turned to a bottle to escape the pain. Booze. Pain pills. Whatever she could get her hands on. “She...she was in a car crash when I was thirteen.”

  A one-car accident on a lonely stretch of road. Strangely enough, when Celia had gone back years later to read that accident report, she’d learned there was no alcohol or drugs found in her mother’s system that night.

  But she’d gone off the road and driven straight into that telephone pole. Not stopping, not even trying to brake...

  “What was foster care like?”

  She thought of that for a moment. Her eyes drifted closed. “Lonely.” She didn’t even think of filtering her words. With him, why should she? “I was never part of a family. Not really. Always just the girl looking through the glass at the others.” Wondering what it would be like to belong.

  To be loved.

  Was it any wonder she’d been such perfect pickings for Ronald? With no one to notice when she disappeared, she’d slipped right away into a life that...

  Was full of secrets.

  Lies.

  “It was hard for me to make friends. To really connect with anyone.” Why? Maybe because she’d been afraid.

  Afraid they won’t like me, not really. Not when they see who I truly am.

  Afraid I’d lose them. Afraid if I cared, it would hurt more.

  She’d stopped being afraid with him.

  His steady heartbeat reassured her.

  “You connected with me.”

  Even as her breath evened out, Celia smiled. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ve always been different.” His heartbeat drummed beneath her. And very slowly, Celia slipped into sleep.

  * * *

  SULLIVAN KEPT STROKING her hair. He felt the exact moment when Celia gave in to sleep. “You’ve always been different, too.”

  Special.

  He stared up at that dark ceiling and he tried to figure out just what he’d need to do in order to keep Celia in his arms forever.

  Just as his eyes began to close, his phone rang, vibrating lightly on the nearby nightstand. His hand reached out and he grabbed it, answering it before Celia could wake. “Sullivan...”

  There was a pause and then, “She didn’t make it,” Davis said softly.

  Hell. Another victim. Another loss.

  Another sin the killer would atone for, one way or another.

  * * *

  AFTER HE ENDED the call, Davis walked through the hospital. People brushed by him, nurses and doctors intent on their patients. They hardly gave him a second glance.

  That was just one of the things he didn’t like about these places. They were so busy. It was incredibly easy for someone to slip in and get close to a vulnerable patient.

  He rounded the corner and saw Monroe Blake sitting in one of the waiting room chairs. Monroe’s shoulders were slumped and he’d put his fists against his eyes, seemingly propping up his sagging head. The guy was taking Alexandra’s death hard, so very hard, and Davis wished there was something he could do for him.

  Monroe was a good man. Davis could still remember the smell of blood and death that had been around them on their missions. Monroe had never hesitated. He’d never backed away from any mission.

  He’d also never looked beaten.

  Until now.

  Davis paced toward him.

  Monroe stiffened and glanced up at him. His golden eyes swept over Davis, then slid away. “I’ve been informed,” he said, his lips twisting, “by the new authority at the Special Activities Division that I’m supposed to be standing down on this case. With Alexandra gone, my involvement is over.”

  Davis sat next to the guy. “I figured that call would be coming in, sooner or later.” He’d hoped for a bit later.

  “Because I knew where she was, right?” Monroe sighed. “That puts me on their suspect list. Some pencil pusher back in the office—a guy who has never seen fieldwork—figures that I just turned on Alexandra and let her die.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “No,” Monroe said grimly, “I didn’t. I respected the hell out of that woman. I would never hurt her.” He held Davis’s stare. “Ronald Worth would have known her habits. He’s the one who told the killer where she was.”

  Yes, Davis rather suspected that had been the case.

  “They’re sending in a team. This mess is a huge embarrassment for SAD. They want me on a plane back home, and they said they have people who’ll be taking over the investigation.”

  People Davis wouldn’t trust. He didn’t know them. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t have much choice!” Monroe fired back. “I was given orders. Stand down.” His lips twisted. “And stay the hell away from the McGuires. Apparently, your family is seen as some kind of major threat right now.”

  Davis made a noncommittal sound. “What do you think will happen to Celia?” That was a question that had to be answered. He already knew Sullivan wasn’t just going to let Celia be taken into government custody. Hadn’t they all learned that lesson already?

  “They want her back.” Monroe’s voice was gruff. “Everyone sure as hell seems to think that Celia can identify this guy, but I heard her talking with Alexandra. Celia was adamant that she didn’t know his identity.”

  Davis watched a nurse bustle by in the hallway. She appeared frantic to get to her patient. “Sometimes,” he said slowly, “you have to make a choice.” He rose.

  “Davis?”

  “You have to decide which orders you are going to follow...and which ones you’re just going to forget.”

  Monroe shook his head. “You act like I have some
kind of choice here. I’m not a free agent. I’m a government employee. Do you know what they’ll do to me if I go off on my own?”

  Davis shrugged. “Oh, yeah, I have a pretty good idea. I mean, Celia went off on her own, didn’t she? Then all of a sudden she had folks gunning for her. Strange, isn’t it? That the folks in authority up there aren’t scrambling to solve this case? Instead, they’re too busy covering their own backs. They want this case erased, not closed. It’s an embarrassment. You know what went down, so I’m suspecting that when you get back to that fancy office—you know, the one that hides all the bloodshed—they’ll probably ship you off on an immediate new assignment. You’ll go overseas, and you won’t come back until everything about this case is nothing more than a memory.”

  Monroe rose. “Alexandra deserved better than that.” Emotion cracked in his voice and grief darkened his eyes.

  “Because she was your mentor, right? The woman who pulled you into the group?”

  “She knew my mother,” Monroe said as his chin notched up. “Alexandra was always looking out for me. My whole life, she was there for me.”

  Davis hadn’t realized the connection was so personal. “Then I am especially sorry,” he said quietly, “for the loss you’re suffering.” He gave a slow nod. “And if you should decide you want to fight for justice for her...then maybe you should come and join a family that understands that battle.”

  He turned and took a step away.

  “You’re telling me...what? To throw away my job with the Special Activities Division? To turn my back on them?”

  Davis glanced over his shoulder. “Actually, I’m saying let’s give this thing twenty-four hours. We’ve got a killer out there, one who is champing at the bit. The plan that Alexandra had—to draw him out into the open—it’s not bad. It can work. We just need the right team in place.”

  Monroe’s hand rubbed over his jaw. “And this team?”

  “You want to join it?”

  Monroe’s gold eyes gleamed. He seemed to consider that offer for a very long time. Davis just waited.

  Then Monroe nodded.

  “Then welcome to the family,” Davis murmured.

  Monroe swallowed. “Alexandra...before she died, she told me to protect your family. To stay with the McGuires.” He nodded. “And I will. I swear, I will.”