Ramsey nodded. “Amazing how circumstances have a way of changing one’s perspective.”
Yes, wasn’t it? Doran had been undergoing quite a bit of that himself.
Chapter Thirteen
Though some of the evening’s sheen had dissipated while she’d listened to her grandfather rant at Ramsey, an hour of cozy conversation and teasing with Doran and Rams had restored her buoyant mood. Amazingly Doran seemed to fit in with her crazy family and enjoy them. At least, he had felt comfortable enough to take off his tie and unbutton the top 2 buttons of his shirt. As the three waited for the elevator, Kelsey stood between the men; one hand tucked into the crook of Ramsey’s arm, the other in Doran’s.
Doran reminded her of the thread-bare jeans she’d had since high-school; the jeans she still wore when she wanted comfort; the jeans she’d dug out of the trash four times after Martha had thrown them out; the jeans that she packed first, no matter where she was going.
It was hard to believe that she’d only know Devlin Doran for a few days. Doran’s gaze centered on the closed elevator door, but his expression looked perplexed. She squeezed his rock-solid biceps. “What are you so serious about?’ she asked.
He looked down at her and the corners of his lips twitched. “I was trying to figure out why I was under the impression your family owned PBCO.”
“PBCO?” Ramsey looked as puzzled as she felt. “The poultry processing plant?” His tone mixed doubt with amusement. Doran nodded. Ramsey chuckled and shook his head. “Who told you that?” Doran made a gesture with his hand indicating that either it didn’t matter or he didn’t recall. “If our name was linked to PBCO, it must have been because grandfather tried to shut it down.” Ramsey’s mouth turned down. “Unfortunately, he had his stroke, and never did get the damned factory regulated, so it’s still a major polluter." His forehead furrowed. "The EPA is constantly after them.”
Kelsey wrinkled her nose and looked up at Doran. “Have you ever smelled it? Flocks of vultures are always perched on its roof." She rolled her eyes heavenward for emphasis. “The stink can knock you over a mile away.” Her expression turned serious, “Worse, the run off has tainted Kramer creek.”
The elevator doors slid open. Ramsey pulled free of her grasp and stepped aboard, but Doran stepped into the mahogany-lined space arm in arm with her, his warmth enfolded her. For the first time in her life, she didn’t shiver as the silent doors closed and the floor pushed upward.
When the doors opened to reveal the upstairs’ hallway, Doran put his hand over hers and patted it in a preoccupied manner as he escorted her to her room. He tripped on the fringe of a long oriental carpet runner and did a quick two-step to regain his balance, but he never let her go. Until she’d gotten used to that blamed rug, it had done the same thing to her. Kelsey smiled. “You’re a good dancer.”
He grinned. “That wasn’t dancing.” He pulled her into his arms and waltzed her toward her bedroom door. “This is dancing.” His heat surrounded her and desire blazed in his eyes. Kelsey melted against him, wrapping her arms around him, willing for Devlin Doran to lead her anywhere he desired.
He abruptly stopped outside her bedroom door. Reluctant to end the evening, and weak kneed from the closeness, Kelsey opened the door to her room. She looked up at Doran, hoping for a kiss, but his attention centered on the cornice boards, as if he’d rather look at anything but her. A lump of misery choked her. Her hand dropped from Doran’s arm, but he didn’t notice. Why did men always prefer Zoë? Why did she always fall for the wrong guy? Of course, to him, this was just a job and as soon as she locked her door, he was free of her. Tears burned. Before they burned trails down her cheeks, Kelsey slipped into her room.
Doran followed her and closed the door. Kelsey’s heart leaped with excitement, but his somber expression made romance seem doubtful. So what else was new? What was it about her that put men off? Kelsey adopted a neutral tone. “What’s eating you?”
He inhaled deeply, then let out a long breath. “Nothing.”
And orchids sang opera. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe that.” His raised brow indicated that he had anticipated just that. She looked down at the floor. “Devlin, I was teasing you. You’re always so coordinated and watchful. I’ve never seen you so, so, so-“
“Clumsy?” He started to grin. “Thoughtful?” Kelsey nodded. Doran rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t quit thinking about something you said in relation to your grandfather about the PBCO. mess that your grandfather tried to shut it down.”
They were alone in her bedroom and he wanted to talk about stinking pollution instead of engage in romance? Misery expanded within her. She went to the window and looked out at the moon-drenched lawn. “That's ancient history.” The lump in her throat made her voice tight. She wished she were anywhere but here. Her attention settled on the screened gazebo in the center of the rose garden.
“Maybe.” His hands settled on her shoulders. “Maybe not.” Gently, he turned her to face him, then his thumb caressed her neck. Shivers of desire radiated up and down her body, making it difficult to think of anything other than unbuttoning his black silk shirt and running her hands over his flesh with the same tenderness he was giving her. “Would you mind telling me about how your grandmother died and when your grandfather had his stroke?”
She blinked several times. He wanted to talk about death and illness? Now? Here? “Why?”
Doran looked up at the ceiling and sighed, then he hunkered down. If he just leaned forward a few inches, their lips would touch. “There are drugs that can create those symptoms.”
Kelsey focused on his meaning and tried to ignore the close proximity of her bed. “Surely, you don’t think–“
"Actually, only suspect." A new type of lump burgeoned in her throat and a tear fell. He groaned and hugged her tight. The tension in his arms shouted of shared frustration. “Right now," he murmured, "I’m not sure what I think about anything." His male scent enveloped her. Kelsey wrapped her arms around his trim waist and hugged him back. "I knew a lot more last week than I do today.” He rested his chin on the top of her head and seemed to focus on something very far away. Kelsey snuggled against him, reveling in the warmth and security of his embrace. Doran sighed. “The more I learn, the less I seem to know.”
His heart beat strong and steady against her cheek. His heart rate increased. Bliss bubbled within her. When was the last time something had felt so right?
Doran’s hands traced hot ripples of pleasure up and down her spine. Then he nudged her face up and kissed her cheek. Unlike his previous kisses, this was gentle and polite; the sort of kiss a parent would give a child as they put it to bed.
It was the last sort of kiss she wanted. Kelsey slid her hands under his dark jacket and ran them over the sleek surface of his silk shirt. Then, she stood on tiptoe and traced his lips with the tip of her tongue. He groaned and kissed her with the passion she’d dreamed of. Warmth permeated the thin fabric. Doran’s arms tightened and heat surged through Kelsey’s body.
She needed to touch Devlin Doran’s flesh. Kelsey tugged his shirttail free from his slacks. A moment later, his big hands traced the skin of her back.
Kelsey pressed against him harder. His desire was obvious. Doran thrust his tongue in her mouth. Burning with hunger, Kelsey kneaded his body with shocking liberty. Her stifling jacket dropped away. A moment later, her skirt slithered over her hips to puddle on the floor. She moaned and tried to undo the buttons of his shirt. The fabric fought her like it was liquid silk protecting his integrity.
She’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted Devlin Doran.
Something vibrated against her breast.
Doran groaned and tore his mouth free. With a viciousness that nearly tore the inside pocket from his jacket, he yanked a cellular phone free. Instead of turning it off, he pressed the talk button and turned his back to her.
She hadn’t felt this rejected since she’d come home and found Zoë in bed with her fianc
ée.
ooo
Doran took a moment to marshal his thoughts and center before he pressed talk. “Yes?”
“Bad timing, huh?” Quinn sounded amused.
“The worst possible.” Also, the best: if Quinn hadn’t phoned, he’d have taken Kelsey right there in front of the window and the cameras.
Quinn guffawed. “Something tells me that I’d like a ringside seat.” Right alongside any guards who’d noticed the show. Could he have chosen a more public place for a seduction? But then he hadn't chosen it, Kelsey had.
“Surely you didn’t phone to discuss your preference in entertainment.”
“No.” Papers crackled in his ear. Doran looked out the window to see if they had attracted an audience. Instead, he saw the reflection of Kelsey shutting the bathroom door. Quinn made a triumphant sound. “I’ve been digging up old, dirty laundry about Lancaster. Do you know who her daddy is?”
“You phoned to ask me a stupid, irrelevant question like that?”
“Perhaps not completely significant, but it certainly makes for an interesting footnote.
“Fine, I’ll bite. Who is daddy?”
“While I’d have bet either Winston or Calhoun donated the sperm,” Quinn paused dramatically, “Marvin Frederickson is listed on the birth certificate.”
Kelsey emerged from the bathroom; a shapeless chenille robe covered her from chin to toe. From the look of her expression, she’d realized how close they’d come to doing something totally stupid and was furious at allowing unpedigreed swine like him to touch her. He wished he could get over the need for her as easily as she’d obviously gotten over any desire she’d felt for him.
Doran gritted his teeth and focused on why Quinn would view Zoë’s paternity as pertinent enough to phone after midnight. “I needed this information because?”
“Martha and Zoë seem to be around for all major MacLennan events.” Quinn paused for effect; it was an annoying habit, particularly now, when Kelsey obviously wanted him to leave. “Dev, I haven’t walked since Pia Chan’s bullet pulverized my spinal column. Females are vicious. Keep an eye on the Lancasters and watch your back.”
“Always have.” Except that time with Pia. “Mind your own back and be vigilant about our clever friend.”
“I’ve already ordered a rearview mirror for my wheels.” It was an old joke, but Doran laughed anyway.
Kelsey folded her arms her across stomach, her expression looked angry. Now was not the time to share the revelation that Kelsey and Ramsey seemed to think the company was only a pollution problem.
Kelsey’s foot began tapping. “Thanks, pal,” Doran said. “I owe you.” He clicked off the phone and put it back in his pocket.
Kelsey gestured to his pocket. “What was that all about?”
“Some crucial information my partner dug up on another case.” Her mouth flattened. Doran wished he didn’t still want her. “I was out of line. I’m here to protect you, not –“ At a loss for words, he sighed and threw up his hands.
Kelsey looked somewhat mollified. “I started it.” She looked at the floor and chewed her lower lip, then straightened and looked him in the eye. “The more I know you, the more I,” she paused, “like you.”
Doran smiled. “That’s progress, huh?” In an instant, her expression turned hostile. “Well, I call it progress." He felt sick to his stomach. "The threat of a kiss used to terrify you.”
“Only because I’m attracted to you," she mumbled while staring at her toes.
He sat down hard on the window seat, as her meaning sank in and he realized how much she disliked what she felt. Doran knew he should be thrilled, but now that he’d gotten to know the real flesh and blood woman, instead of information bits from a file, he didn’t want to hurt her in any way. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit that his original plan to seduce her had been based on lust from the start. He sighed.
She looked up, fury making her mouth flat. “The proper response is ‘I’m attracted to you, too.’” Her tone sounded bitter.
“And I am. That’s the problem.”
Kelsey’s eyes widened. “What to you mean?”
Doran gestured to the room, then pointed dramatically behind him to the moonlit window. “You felt so good in my arms, that I forgot where we were." He pressed his fingers to his temples. "What kind of bodyguard seduces his employer right in front of a damned window where any sniper worth his salt could make the shot?”
She paled.
Doran raked his fingers through his hair. “You got to me the first time I saw you. Then, when I held you, after I got you out of the car, I wanted you so much that it hurt.” He scowled at that admission. “I know it’s vulgar, since you were so hurt, but you smelled so good and felt so right in my arms.” He swallowed. “I knew I shouldn’t take this job." He grimaced. "I knew emotional involvement and business didn’t mix.” Kelsey took his hand in hers. He twined his fingers with hers and looked deep into her eyes. “I endangered you. If it hadn’t been for Quinn’s call.” Doran shook his head. “I thought I could handle the attraction because there’s something about this house that makes me feel like I’m a fish in a tank, but I start thinking about how soft your skin is and-” He clamped his jaws together before he could blurt out any more truths.
She made a sweeping gesture of the room. “All the time I was growing up, I felt like the walls had eyes and ears. I couldn’t wait to get out of here. You have no idea how hard it was for me to move back.”
“I didn't realize.”
Kelsey squeezed his hand. “Don't blame yourself.” Her lopsided grin was bittersweet. “Haunted though this house feels, it’s safe.”
Doran leaned close and whispered into her ear. “I don’t think you have a ghost, I think there are hidden cameras in the rooms.” She leaned back to peer at the walls. Doran wrapped his arms around her and gave her a quick closed mouth kiss, then lips a hair’s breadth from his, he whispered, “My partner knows more about this. Can I have him come out here?”
“Why?” Her breath washed over his, like a hot caress.
“Because when I make love to you, I don’t want an audience. Quinn can make certain all the wires to this room fry. He can also find out who is watching, and if there are tapes.”
Kelsey gave a startled gasp, then rose and gave him a passionate kiss that tested every bit of his resolve. Doran groaned. Kelsey chuckled, then licked his ear and whispered, “Have him come tomorrow. I’ll tell the guards he’s okay.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
She plucked the phone from his pocket and held it toward him. Doran punched in the code. Quinn answered before the first ring finished. “Hey, pal, could you bring the van out to Beja Flora tomorrow and check out their surveillance system?” Doran hugged Kelsey against his chest. “Ms. MacLennan will make sure they let you in.”
“You serious?”
“Definitely.” Doran gave Kelsey two thumbs up.
“Damn. You Irish have all the luck.” He hoped his partner had this prediction correct.
ooo
Quinn aimed the remote at the drapery rod and pressed a button. The office's ivory, room-darkening curtains moved to block the late afternoon heat. Doran settled onto the stiff-backed office chair, swallowed Quinn’s syrupy version of coffee and glance around the long U-shaped work area, which was utilitarian and technology oriented. Blank monitors and messy corkboards hovered above the tidy white countertop. Quinn’s space couldn’t be more different from his own peaceful sanctuary.
Quinn flipped open the arm of his wheelchair, plucked out a tiny thumb drive, then popped it into a black box. The surround-sound system sputtered and numbers swirled as Quinn scanned through the data. Doran glanced at the bulletin board to see if any reports had returned. Abruptly, a vaguely familiar voice came over the speakers, “I never liked Marvin Frederickson, but Calhoun treated him like the son he’d always wanted. So I tolerated him.” The tone barely concealed the woman's disdain.
Doran rai
sed a brow. "Ms. Martha Lancaster," Quinn said. He winked. “Patience, Dev. It gets better.”
“A few days before thanksgiving, while Calhoun was still in D.C., Marvin brought by a bottle of wild turkey." Martha's tone sounded decidedly disapproving. "Wild turkey was Calhoun’s favorite. I put it on the bar.” Martha sniffed. “That night, Rose – that was Calhoun’s wife was feeling a might poorly and she had a drink. She died of a heart attack, shortly after.” A sob emanated from the speakers. “If I’d known she was that ill, I would have insisted on a doctor.”
Doran leaned forward and turned off the tape.
“You had me come in to listen to Martha cry? The woman looks reserved, but she’s a bloody fountain. If I want to listen to her bawl and whine, I don’t need to come here to do it.”
“Have you ever listened to what she's actually saying or do you turn your ears off when the waterworks start?” What a stupid question, of course he shut out the caterwauling. Quinn, who knew him well, grinned. “Don’t listen to the whiny tone; listen to what she’s saying. I spent most of last nigh verifying her complaints.” Quinn restarted the tape.
Sobs shuddered around them. Doran gritted his teeth. This had better be worth the aggravation.
“I didn’t think anything of it.” Martha blew her nose. “I thought it was just her age. And she had been feeling poorly.”
“And now?” Quinn sounded like a concerned friend.
“Oh, dear Lord," Martha wailed, "I should have known.” Doran's molars clenched at the unholy sound.
“Known what?” Quinn's taped voice asked the question Doran wanted answered. “Known that the lady was ill?”
“That it was poisoned.” Doran sat straighter. Quinn grinned and leaned back in his wheelchair. “Ms. Rose died without ever regaining consciousness.”
“You believe the whisky was deliberately poisoned?”
He’d never realized how gentle Quinn’s interrogations were.
Deadly Rumors Page 20
