“I'm telling the truth.” Bors cupped Taylor's face. “Look at me.”
“Why?”
The way she asked the muffled question made him laugh. She sounded like his sister when in her bratty mood. “Because I want to see your beautiful face.” The moment Taylor lifted her face, he forgot to breathe. It glowed like a rose that had just bloomed and was still wet from the morning dew. Beautiful. So beautiful.
“I'm looking.”
Bors shook his head. “Baby, you're an angel.”
“A goddess before. Now an angel. I'm really going to think you're bullshitting me.”
“No, I'm not. Hey, how you responded to what I did is just the way a passionate woman would have done it.”
“I'm passionate.”
“Uh-huh. Do you regret letting me touch you?”
“No.”
“Why did you let me?”
“Because, for some odd reason, it seems like I've known you forever.”
Bors's heart swelled. The thing was, he felt the same way, too. He angled his head, then kissed Taylor so deep he didn't want it to end. But the sound of the car or cars coming reminded him that his siblings were here.
* * * *
Through her kissing induced state of mind, Taylor heard the car doors closing. At first she thought she just imagined it, but when voices reached her ears, she finally woke up and realized Bors had company. Putting pressure on Bors's shoulders with her hands, she ended the kiss.
“You have company.”
Bors sighed. “My siblings. They're here to talk about our mom's birthday party.”
“Why didn't you tell me? I'm still in my pajamas.”
“They won't care.”
“But I do,” she tried to disentangle herself from Bors, but he tightened his hold on her waist. “Let go.”
“Baby—”
“And stop calling me baby. They might think we are more than, um, new friends.”
“Let them think what they want.”
“Why are you so nice to me?”
“Because this is what I am. Nice.” Bors grinned at her.
So he was back to being himself. Arrogant, full of himself, and charming. God almighty, she liked all those things about him. “I have to brush my hair, teeth, and wash my face.”
“You're fine.”
“No, I look like—”
“Told you, boys. We'll find him in the kitchen ... not alone. Hey, brother dear. Did we interrupt something?”
This must be the sister Bors mentioned, Taylor thought. What was her name again? Kirsten or Kristen? Taylor didn't move. With Bors's height and build, she doubted his company could see all of her. But he turned around, exposing her.
“Hey, brat. We're just cooking. Morning, guys.”
“Morning, dick—Teejay? That you?”
Still standing behind Bors, Taylor poked her head out and wriggled her fingers at Gawain when all she wanted to do was run into the bedroom and hide. Or at least comb her hair. “Good to see you again, Gawain.”
Bors stepped aside, showing her to his siblings.
“Last time I saw you, you were behind Bors. Now, you're standing behind him again. Is he trying to hide you? That could only mean two things. First, he didn't want anyone to see you because he is one selfish dick. Second, he's afraid someone would steal you away from him.”
“I doubt you are right on both.”
“So this is Miss Teejay.”
Taylor shifted her gaze to the other brother. Like Bors and Gawain, this one was drop dead gorgeous, with the same blue eyes and dark hair. Lord, she'd never seen so many perfectly sculpted men and woman in one room in all her life. “Hi. I am ... you can call me Taylor, if you like.”
“I missed the opportunity to meet you yesterday, but my wife had the privilege. She said she wanted to meet you again. Hopefully, under totally different circumstances.” Tristan plugged his nose up.
“Your wife is charming.”
Tristan beamed. “She is. Thank you.”
“How is she doing?”
“She's resting.”
“Are you guys making breakfast, or having a food fight?” Gawain winked at Taylor.
“Bors is showing me how to beat his eggs.”
Everyone stopped talking. Then, all of a sudden, they all started laughing. Taylor just realized how her words sounded to them and felt mortally embarrassed. “I don't know how to crack them,” she added, trying to repair her error.
“I'll show you how,” Gawain said. “I can show you how to properly beat—” He nearly fell forward when Tristan smacked his back.
“Bro, I think Bors got that issue covered.”
“Taylor, come tomorrow for our mom's party,” Kirsten nearly shouted the words to be heard.
“Thank you, but—”
“She'll be there.” Bors took her hand. “Taylor, let me introduce you to my sibs. This is Kirsten, Doctor Tristan Knight, you met Gawain yesterday, and that one in the back who can't take his eyes off his IPhone is Percival. Guys, this is Teejay, also known to me as Taylor Jean.”
“Hey,” Percival said. “You have such a powerful last name.” He winked at her, then went back to pushing buttons on his IPhone.
Taylor flinched at the comment, but didn't say anything.
Bors's siblings turned to look at Percival, who totally ignored them. When they looked at her again, suddenly they seemed uncomfortable. They looked like they wanted to ask something, but couldn't. Do they know about her, too?
“Should I call you Taylor or Teejay?” asked Kirsten.
“You can call me Taylor.”
“I love your hair.”
“Really?” Self-consciously, Taylor smoothed her hair with her fingers. How could Kirsten love her uncombed hair?
“God knows how many times I tried to do that messy hair bun thingy, but it's not working for me. You know, I would give away one of my brother's just to have beautiful hair like yours. What's the secret?”
“Don't brush your hair. Just tie it.”
“That's it? Oh, I'll try that.”
“Which one of us are you going to give away, brat?” Gawain tugged a lock of Kirsten's hair.
Kirsten swatted Gawain on the hand, then tucked her loose hair behind her ear. “You, Gawain, if you don't stop leaving chicken bones in the refrigerator.”
“And who's going to fly you back and forth when you're late for your meetings in Seattle or wherever it is you're going?”
“I can hire other pilots, stinkbug.”
Taylor listened and watched in fascination. She'd heard people call others names, but not like the Knights. Somehow, their name-calling didn't sound like insults, but endearments. She was impressed. In such a short time, her uneasiness triggered by Percival's comment about her last name went away.
“They're not bad when they're asleep. Except for Gawain. He could wake the dead with his snores,” Bors whispered loudly.
“Do you snore?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Yes you do, peanut.” Gawain snorted, crossing his arms across his chest. “That's why he always wakes up alone. No woman could stand his snores. Sounds like a broken train. Bet you heard him, Teejay.”
“No. He didn't snore last night.”
Kirsten's eyes bulged and then she bit her lower lip. Percival stopped texting, or whatever it was he was doing, and looked up to raise his brows at them. Tristan grinned while Gawain let out a loud hoot.
“Well, Bors must be busy showing you how to beat—”
“Gawain, shut the fuck up.”
“Hey, you guys, donuts are getting cold. Coffee's on the coffee table,” Percival announced, waving his phone in front of his brothers.
Taylor had a feeling he did it on purpose to stop an oncoming squabble.
“Bors, you really have to stop cursing. Dumbass.” Percival shook his head, then resumed thumbing his IPhone.
“Hey, Einstein, what's the coffee doing on the coffee table? Kitchen is over here. Such a puke bucket.”
>
“Puke bucket?” Taylor asked Bors.
“You don't want to know.”
Everyone moved into the kitchen and took their spots except for Bors, who kept his hold on her hand. “Are you trying to defend me from my brothers?”
“No. I'm just telling the truth. If you sounded like a train, I would have heard you.”
“Baby, when you said you didn't hear me snore. They think it's because—”
“We're busy with one another?”
“Yeah. Or because you were dead tired from our hot lovemaking.”
“Or, because this house is too big and the rooms are so far apart, I wouldn't hear you.”
“I know how the Knights’ minds work, baby.”
“So? You don't like them thinking that we're busy.”
“No, I don't care if the whole world finds out that we're busy.” Bors swept her hair back. “Do you care about what they think?”
“Not really. I like your brothers and sister. They're funny. Your parents must be the best looking parents in the world to produce such handsome kids.”
“Hmmm ... are you saying I'm handsome?”
Before Taylor could give her reply, Gawain interrupted them. “Hey, Taylor, we have all kinds of donuts. What do you like?”
“Any kind. Whatever you have there is fine.”
“Cool. You can take a pick—caramel Kreme Crunch, Glazed Raspberry-Filled, New York Cheesecake, and Cinnamon Apple-Filled.”
“I'll take the caramel without the crunch and the glazed, but not raspberry. Cinnamon sounds good, but I prefer a regular kind and not filled.”
Everyone turned their heads to look at Taylor.
“What the hell!” Gawain peered inside the paper bag.
“Are we supposed to eat the crunch and leave the caramel for her?” Tristan asked.
“I'll lick the raspberry and leave the glaze,” Percival said, grinning.
“How are you going to do that, button toes?”
“Like I said, brat. Lick the raspberry.”
His siblings’ reaction was so precious Bors laughed so loud. Taylor scowled at him, then punched his arm. She looked annoyed and pretty at the same time. He couldn't help it. He pulled her against him and hugged her tight.
* * * *
“What the fuck do you mean she isn't staying in the cabin anymore?” Jean wanted to shake his runner. No, he wanted to shoot his balls. What an incompetent ass.
“When I came back this morning to check on her, the sign was up. The cabin is open for rent again. I asked the landlady and she said Taylor must have left last night. It was the agent Knight who called this morning to tell her that Taylor would not be staying in the cabin anymore.”
Two days and Taylor already went with a man she hardly knew. Worse, the man was the badge flashing FBI agent, Bors Knight. Judge Arthur Knight's son. Seattle's best FBI agent. The one who'd been on his tail for months now. Did Taylor contact him to help her with her escape plan? Had she been stabbing him in the back?
This was one reason why he kept her practically under lock and key. She was too gullible and freaking beautiful for her sake. Men, like the agent, would be all over her when exposed outside, and she was too naïve to know their intentions. He was only right to protect her, but she, like her mother, was too stubborn to see his reasons.
Fuck! He must bring her home before her soul became corrupt. She was his only light, the only part of him that was clean and untouched. He must bring her back.
“Convince Taylor to come back here. Do everything you can if you want to keep any parts of your body.”
“Yes, Congressman. What about the agent?”
“Do whatever it takes to get rid of that gun-and-badge-wielding son of a bitch. I don't give a shit about him. What I want is my daughter back. If you have to get rid of any obstacles, do it as long as I can have my daughter back in this house. And you better make it happen, or I'll have your neck. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“But remember ... I hate troubles. So don't bring anything at my door.”
* * * *
The guests, including Simms, were already mingling about. Some were dancing, and a few were trying to converse with his father who never left his mother's side. Bors watched a couple who'd been standing by the refreshment table. It was only seven at night, but he was sure the couple would be drunk before they started singing happy birthday.
A low-key party was Kirsten's idea. Hiring a band was Tristan's, and the dancing ... Kirsten's. What food to serve was Gawain's. His only contribution was to pay for the expenses, which Percival gladly offered to split with him.
He bet the large family painting from a photo Kirsten dug out of their mom's album would make their mother cry. It was taken in the woods, just before Tristan's horrible accident that nearly killed him. The painting, another reminder of how grateful they were to have one another, would join the others on the wall.
The soft early summer wind blew, making the tiny white lights wrapped on the tree branches wink in the dark. Bors snagged a wine glass from a passing waiter. He paid his attention to the singer and his band tuning their instruments. He knew all of them by having their records and their background checked. With a father like Judge Arthur Knight, one could never lower his guard, especially in a time like this. Not to mention that he had Taylor to keep an eye on.
Of course she insisted that he shouldn't. That she would be fine. Silly woman.
Katherine caught his gaze. She waved. Her faced beamed beautifully. Bors blew her a kiss and then mouthed I love you.
“She's beautiful, isn't she?”
Edmund, Tristan's best friend and business partner, looking sharp in his black sports coat stood beside him. “I know. Inside and out, man.”
“Your father is one lucky man to find a woman like Katherine. I don't know how she could raise boys and still smile as if she and Judge were newlyweds. Most women I've met at the clinic had only one or two children, but already looked like they had deliver a dozen. Do you know Katherine's secret?”
Bors thought Edmund should know the answer to the question already. He supposed, though not all pediatricians, especially a bachelor who grew up with no parents around, would understand that a mysterious alchemy fused his parents together. They were an entity, moving together in synchrony. Loving each other like roots in healthy soil, sun and green grass, stars and moon. They live off each other's energy. True, his dad was lucky, but so was his mother.
“It's no secret, bro. They feed each other's’ soul.
“Soul mates.”
“Yup.”
“Hey, Bors. Looking good, bro. Edmund, stop glaring at my sister, will you?”
“I'm not glaring, Gawain.”
Gawain snorted, then nudged Bors's shoulder. “Did you hear this guy?” To Edmund, he said, “You should look in the mirror. If you want to dance with her, fine with us. Just don't touch her wrong because, friend or not, I'll fucking kick your ass.”
“Do you think Kirsten would let anyone touch her without her permission? She may look like a newly bloomed flower every time I see her, but I know she could kick anyone's ass if needed.”
Bors tried not to giggle, but Gawain burst out laughing. “Newly bloomed flower? Fuck, Edmund. You sound like an old Englishman in one of Julie's books. Have you told her that yet?”
“No.”
Gawain elbowed Bors. “Good. Now you have your chance. She and Taylor are coming this way.”
Without warning, Bors's chest constricted as he met dark brown eyes that shimmered with merriment and innocent naiveté. Damn, it was a wonder that she remained a virgin. Taylor was every man's fantasy. A seductive siren with unpretentious charm meant to make a man lose his head. She awakened the primitive side of him that wanted to toss her on his shoulder and carry her off somewhere.
Bors held her gaze. His mind told him she was Jean's daughter, and because of that, he must stop mixing work with pleasure. Nothing good would come out of it. Yet, his body screa
med something else. Right now, he didn't care if she held the key to Jean's cell. Only how soon could he bed her. If Kirsten hadn't picked Taylor up at his house to come here with her earlier this morning, he would have kept her in bed all day. Yeah, he would have made love with her multiple times. Being around her was like standing underneath a strong current pulling him toward her. Somewhere deep in his bones he knew Taylor shared the same feelings as he. They were both attracted to each other.
Kirsten's exaggerated clearing of her throat reminded him that he'd been staring at Taylor like a teenager. With a mental kick of his ass for letting a siren muddle his brain, he forced himself to look at his sister. “Looking good, sister. But what happened to your straps? They're missing.”
“This is a green strapless cocktail dress, dear brother. Love your dress shirt. Blue suits you. But what happened to the smell? I smell something clean and nice.”
“I think you're talking about Edmund.”
Kirsten gave Edmund a once over. “Glad you could make it, Edmund.”
“Thanks for inviting me. You look, um ... just ... fantastic.”
Bors wanted to whack the man on the back. He looked like he swallowed a frog and had a hard time breathing. Obviously, Edmund was in love with his sister, but too chicken shit to say so.
Percival and Tristan joined them, asking Kirsten about the plan.
“Okay, guys. The singer is ready to announce the first dance. After Dad, Tristan will dance with mom. Next is Percival, followed by Bors, then Gawain. I'll dance with Dad. Edmund, you take Taylor to the dance floor while Gawain dances with mom. That would be the cue for the others to start dancing. Got it?”
“No.” He didn't mean to blurt out his disagreement, but he did. His siblings, Edmund, and Taylor looked at him questioningly. “Taylor can't dance,” he explained.
For the second time, he felt so stupid and overprotective. And it was all because of the woman glaring at him, one brow raised, lips pinched, and arms across her chest.
“Why not?”
“Your foot is still sore. You can't dance.”
“I can't?” Taylor looked down at her foot.
“Your foot will swell again.”
“But I am fine now.”
“You're still wearing your slippers.”
“Because you insisted.”
Irresistible Knight Page 14
