Tempt the Night

by Dixie Lee Brown

  “You’re divorced? When?” Joe cast a glance at Ty, who was already digging a small notebook and pencil from his shirt pocket.

  “Three years ago.”

  “Marco is his son, then?”

  “No!” Maria spat out the word. “Marco is not his, and Raul will never touch him again.”

  Mac reached across and covered Maria’s hand with hers. “They’re trying to help you keep Marco safe, Maria. Please tell them why Hernandez is searching for you if you’re no longer married and Marco isn’t his child.”

  Maria searched Mac’s eyes and then nodded. Wiping tears from her face, she sat up straighter. “Several years ago, I was in love with a man I’d known all my life and planned to marry. My parents were very poor and old-fashioned. Behind my back, they arranged a marriage between me and Raul. He had promised to make the loan payment on my parents’ farm. Without his intervention, they would have lost it, and it was all they had.”

  Brady clenched his fists as anger boiled to the surface. This woman’s life had been stolen from her, just like his. Yanked away from all that was familiar, she’d been forced into an arranged marriage. No wonder she was bitter and distrustful. Hadn’t he suffered the same at the hands of ruthless men? He’d been left scarred inside and out. Maria was obviously still dealing with her demons.

  “So we were married the next month. I didn’t tell him I was already pregnant, and he never asked why the baby came two months early . . . for two and a half years. Then one night he came home a little drunker than usual and wanted to know why Marco looked nothing like him.

  “He was furious when I told him. He guessed who the father was. Our friendship had been no secret in our region. I didn’t know he would go so far just to punish me, though.” Tears rolled from closed eyes. “My life was hell, but the worst was watching him be cruel to Marco. There was nothing I could do to protect my son. Then one day, Marco’s real father was found . . . dead. He’d been hanged, his hands sawed off while he was still alive. The next day, I found one of them in Marco’s bed.” Maria stopped to catch her breath.

  Everyone else was fighting to keep their rage in check. Brady could see it in each of his friend’s eyes. Mac sat stiff and still. That was probably more than she’d signed on for, too.

  “I knew he was loco . . . that Marco and I would be next if I didn’t get him away from there. So I packed a bag, and we snuck out in the middle of the night, and we’ve been running ever since. I never told my parents. No one. When I first went to work for Bree and Mr. Sean, taking care of their daughter, they helped me file divorce papers in Texas so Raul wouldn’t trace us to Alaska, but he eventually did anyway. That’s when Mr. Sean offered to hide Marco somewhere safe. I didn’t know what to do. Mr. Sean worked for the FBI, and Bree still had some friends at the bureau. I trusted them. I thought it was the only chance to save Marco, so I let him take my son from me—and he gave Marco to a drug lord. If Joe and the rest of you hadn’t rescued him, he might be dead now.” Maria dropped her face into her hands, and sobs racked her shoulders.

  Mac knelt in front of her chair and pulled Maria into a hug. “Shhh . . . shhh . . . no one will ever take Marco from you again.”

  She looked into Brady’s eyes with the promise on her lips, and he knew without being told that she’d made her decision regarding Hernandez. Knowing that she stood with him in what had to be done stirred his possessiveness.

  Joe exchanged glances with Walker and Ty. His chair creaked as he leaned back. “How long can you stay, Maria?” He waited patiently through the silence until she found her voice.

  “A few days, I guess. He knows we’re here so I have to move on . . . find work and a place to live.”

  Mac got to her feet and moved over next to Brady, her face strained with emotions that required crying, but tears would evidently have to wait.

  “Did you meet Irene when we arrived?” Joe seemed to be drawing circles on a pad in front of him.

  “Yes. She showed me to my room.” Maria sounded wary, obviously finding his question strange in the present context.

  Mac glanced toward Brady, her brows furrowed. Brady winked, having a pretty good idea what was coming.

  “She’s a great lady, but she can be pushy as hell, and for the last three months she’s been on me about needing more help. So here’s the deal. I think you and Marco should stay indefinitely and work for me. You’ll have room and board, and we’ll settle on a fair wage. Marco has charmed everyone here, so you won’t have any trouble lining up people to keep him company while you’re working.” Joe glanced up from his doodling.

  “Darcy will be on the top of that list.” Walker stepped toward the desk. “My fiancée loves the little ones, and presently she doesn’t have any of her own.”

  Mac rested her hand on Maria’s shoulder. “Even though Hernandez knows where you are, you and Marco will be safer here than on your own somewhere. Joe, Brady, and the rest of these guys will do everything they can to protect you. You won’t have to run anymore.”

  Maria smiled through new tears. “It’s an unbelievable offer. May I think about it overnight?”

  Joe tossed his pencil down. “Absolutely. Just don’t think too long because Irene is going to kill me if I let you get away.”

  As the laughter died down, Maria placed her hand over Mac’s where it still rested on her shoulder. “What about you? Will you stay too?”

  Mac dropped her gaze, refusing to look at Brady or anyone else. Her body language said she was clearly self-conscious and uncomfortable with the question. To make matters worse, the whole room had fallen silent, awaiting her answer.

  Walker leaned against the corner of the desk and crossed his arms. “I’d like to hear the answer to that myself, Ms. McCallister. Will you stay . . . or run?” His voice was quiet, almost friendly, but Brady recognized the thread of steel that accompanied his words. For some reason that Brady couldn’t fathom, Walker had just thrown down a gauntlet in front of Mac. Brady scowled. What the hell was Walker trying to do?

  For a moment, it seemed Mac would accept the challenge and unleash the anger that cast shades of lilac through her blue-gray eyes. Instead, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and smiled fondly at Maria.

  “My situation is different. I’m wanted for murder. The only way I’ll be safe anywhere is if I can clear my name. I’ll stay for a few days until I figure out what to do next. That way I can check up on you and make sure you’re getting settled.”

  “I’ll be sorry to see you go, Mac. It won’t be easy for you out there. Patrick would have been proud of you.” Maria’s voice broke.

  The name clearly hit Mac hard, knocking the air from her lungs. She inhaled a shaky breath as wild eyes located the exit. Her gaze swept over each of them, lingering the longest on Walker and ending with Brady, who couldn’t think of one damn thing to say that would make a difference.

  She smiled then, as though they were the only two in the room. “I’m exhausted. Please excuse me. I’m going to get some sleep.”

  He nodded slightly, resisting the urge to catch her around the waist and keep her beside him where she was so obviously ill at ease. The hurt in her eyes as her gaze slid away from his caused a corresponding ache in his soul.

  Quiet conversation resumed between Joe and Ty as soon as Mac strode from the room. Brady raised his eyes to study Walker, who stared at the door long after Mac was gone. A frown creased his face, and he paced restlessly. What had happened to cause the animosity between Walker and Mac? Walker surely wouldn’t appreciate Brady asking, and it probably wouldn’t be pretty, but he intended to get an answer.

  Maria said goodnight and left. Walker and Ty followed a few seconds later. Brady turned to go, planning to catch Walker for a private chat, but Joe motioned for him to stick around.

  “Ty will do some checking on the situation in Alaska—see if we can find a connection between Hernandez and the two troopers who tried to kill Mac. I have a buddy up there who’s a PI. If he can get through sec
urity to question the wounded trooper, maybe the guy will be willing to talk, given the right incentive.” Joe was making notes as he talked. “Anything else you can think of?”

  “Hernandez is obviously well connected. He knew where we’d be every step of the way. Hell, he got here before we did.”

  “Good point. I’ll have someone check out his known associates . . . although I might be the culprit this time. I talked to half the state government to find someone who’d convince your doctor to look the other way rather than report your gunshot wound. If Hernandez has friends in high places, he could have heard my name through the grapevine. It wouldn’t have been hard to find me, especially if he could coerce a member of the State Department into driving him to my doorstep.” Joe shoved his chair back and stood.

  Brady dragged a hand across the back of his neck. “We’ll never find out anything in time to keep Mac from going back and getting herself killed.”

  Joe studied him, a trace of humor relieving his serious expression. “That’s where you come in. You have to make her decide to stay a while longer.”

  Brady huffed a laugh. “Right. And just how am I supposed to do that?”

  “From where I stand, it looks like she already has a reason to stay. All you have to do is convince her it’s not one-sided.”

  Damn Joe’s smug grin. “Whoa, slow down. I’ll admit I’m attracted to her, but that’s as far as it goes. There can’t be anything else. You know that, Joe.”

  “I know that’s what you believe. People change, Jim . . . even you. You’ve gotten stronger in a lot of ways since you came here. You’re a different man. In any other situation, you’d put yourself to the test. Why not this one?” Joe strode toward the door.

  Irrational anger started to build in Brady. It was easy enough for Joe to suggest a course of action. He wouldn’t be around when it all went south. Mac was the one who would suffer if Brady didn’t pass the test. And yet he wanted to believe that Joe was right.

  He pivoted toward the door. “People change, huh? Like Walker? What the hell’s eatin’ him anyway?”

  “Don’t know. Have you asked him?”

  Brady stopped and watched Joe disappear through the doorway. That’s the next thing on my list.

  Chapter Fifteen

  MAC HELD HER head high and refused to give in to the panic attack that had every nerve in her body tied in a knot. She needed a private place to have her meltdown, where no one would see how weak and cowardly she was. Just a few more steps, and she slipped into the darkened kitchen. Struggling to breathe in and out with a semblance of normalcy, she paused to look around the unfamiliar room. The moonlight cascaded through the windows, confirming that she was alone. Residual smells of pot roast or maybe steak still permeated the air. She rushed across the tiled floor and braced her arms against the sink, sweating, and gasping, and praying she wouldn’t throw up.

  A few minutes later, as luck would have it, that’s how Walker found her. “What the hell are you doing?” he growled.

  Mac chose to ignore him, groaning her misery instead, but the next thing she knew, his shoulder brushed hers as he peered in the sink, no doubt trying to determine what she was looking at.

  She couldn’t help it—she started laughing.

  He straightened and jammed his hands on his hips. “What’s so goddamn funny?”

  The scowl on his face sent her into another fit of laughter. “You . . . you’re what’s funny.” She turned to face him, leaning her hip against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest.

  He evidently wasn’t impressed. “What the fuck are you doing in here in the dark?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was planning to splash cold water on my face to keep from being sick.” Impossibly, she imagined his cold features warmed a degree. “It’s my turn to ask you a question. What the fuck is your problem?”

  His gray eyes went practically black. “My problem? You’re the one with trouble dogging your every step.” His voiced raised, and he jabbed his finger toward her.

  “You call that trouble? Honey¸ where I come from we call that a bad day.” She stopped abruptly and snorted a self-conscious laugh. What was she trying to prove? Out of nowhere, she’d started trading barbs with this black-haired wall of a man who seldom smiled unless it came with a growl . . . like she used to do with Paddy. But Paddy had understood that she was only blowing off steam and would give her a raft right back. Walker, however, didn’t look like the understanding type.

  She looked down, cleared her throat, and slowly raised her eyes to his. “You’re right . . . I might be wading through a few problems at the moment.” Mac shrugged, bit her lip, and cocked her head to the side, a small smile refusing to be dismissed as she waited for his next move.

  Walker grunted, and his gaze traveled over her face for what seemed like a full minute before a one-sided grin appeared. “Right. Sister, you’re up to your neck in trouble. It seems you have a knack for understatement.”

  “Well, everyone has to be good at something.”

  That earned her a more sincere, although brief, smile. He glanced at the sink. “Are you feeling better now? Do you want to get some air?”

  “I’m much better, thanks. What I’d really like is to talk about what I did to piss you off so bad.”

  “You want a beer?” He stepped around her toward the refrigerator, pulled the door open, and came out with two bottles. He twisted the cap off one and handed it to Mac.

  “Thanks. Do I need to sit for this?” She made a joke of it, but her stomach was beginning to roll again.

  He pulled a chair out for her at the table and sat in the one next to hers. After taking a long drink, he set his beer on the table. “At the hospital, how much of Jim’s story did you overhear?”

  Heat rushed to Mac’s face. Of course, she’d known—his beef with her had to have started there outside Brady’s room—but still she wasn’t prepared for the shame that flooded her at the mention of her trespass.

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I didn’t mean to listen at all. I’ve always had a lot of respect for the men and women who serve this country. Brady told me he’d been a Navy SEAL, but he never confided anything that happened. When I heard him talking to you in that room . . . it was exciting and heroic at first. Then it was . . . horrific. As badly as I wanted to, I couldn’t move. It was wrong to eavesdrop, and it wasn’t fair to Brady. I’ll never repeat anything I heard, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

  “It’s not. He likes you. You know that, right?” His unwavering gaze held her in place. “When I saw that rabbit-in-the-headlight look on your face outside his room, I thought you’d bolt right then. He’s a friend of mine, and real friends are hard to come by. I’ve never seen him care about a woman before. You heard him. It wasn’t easy for him to tell me about the woman he nearly choked to death after making love to her. Did that scare you? Make you want to run? Or will you stick around and give him a chance to prove he’s changed?”

  Mac set her beer on the table and brought the palms of her hands down on her knees with a resounding slap. “That’s what you’re so cranky about?” She sat back in her chair and looked away from his intense stare for a moment. “I’m glad Brady has such a good friend, so I’m going to tell you something that would otherwise be none of your business.” She cocked her head, and Walker saluted her with his beer bottle.

  “My father was a POW in Viet Nam. That was before I was born, but he still suffers from PTSD today. My mother is his lifeline, and it wasn’t always easy, but I couldn’t have had a better example of unconditional love.” She reached for her beer, picked at the label for a second, and then turned to him. “I’m not afraid of Brady. There’s nothing he could do that would make me run—except tell me he doesn’t want me around. But, as you pointed out, I’m in a heap of trouble. My priority has to be clearing my name. Right now my parents and Paddy’s parents are being told I killed my best friend and another officer. They’ll be devastated
, and that breaks my heart.” She stopped as her voice cracked.

  Walker leaned toward her, plucked her untouched beer from her hand, and deposited it on the table. “Yeah, that has to be addressed, but Jim’s not going to let you go off by yourself and get killed. Joe’s already got some feelers out. He knows enough G-men to dig up everything there is to know about Hernandez.”

  “Jim won’t let me? Tell me you didn’t really say that.” Snatching her beer back, she took a big swallow. She should be indignant about a demeaning remark like that—would have been livid two days ago—but she had to admit she was feeling pretty safe and protected by the raft of alpha males swarming around her. If that meant she’d turned into a helpless female . . . so be it. Maybe tomorrow she’d feel like carrying her shield and swinging her mace again.

  The question was, could they pull off clearing her name and exact judgment on Ambassador Hernandez? Studying the confidence on Walker’s face, she could almost believe it. Maybe, at the very least, she could give them the chance.

  “Okay. I didn’t really say that.” Walker’s grin made her smile.

  “All right, funny man. Can we stop sniping at each other now?” She took another sip of beer and gazed at him over the top.

  “Sure, about this anyway. I’ll see what else I can come up with by tomorrow.” He shot her a teasing glance, and then his gaze flickered to the doorway.

  “I’ve been looking all over hell for you, Walker, but I didn’t expect to find the two of you having a beer together.” Brady’s voice was oddly strained.

  Startled, Mac swung her head around toward the entryway. He stood just inside, leaning against the door frame. She couldn’t make out his face in the shadows, but the rest of him looked good enough to bring a smile to her face. “Hey, it’s about time you got here. Come and join us.”

  Brady pushed away from the wall and walked slowly toward the table. When he came up behind her, he laid his hand possessively on her shoulder. “You okay, Mac?”