Protecting His Brother's Bride
Page 10
“Do you mind?” She gestured for him to turn around.
“I’ve already seen every inch of you, so drop the act.” The memory was imprinted on his brain and replaying itself in vivid detail. Her taste on his lips, her hips thrusting against his hand, the urgency in her touch as she neared release.
“I was wrong about the Matthews charm.” She threw the sheet aside and reached for her bra. “Your mother must be so proud.”
“Yours must be hugely disappointed.” As soon as the words were spoken, he wanted them back. She’d baited him and he couldn’t do the easy thing and let the remark pass, even knowing she’d grown up in a system not known for creating warm feelings. She turned, leaving him staring at her back. Watching her dress was nearly as bad as watching her undress had been the night before. He was torturing himself by rationalizing that he couldn’t trust her. His fingers burned while he tried shutting down all his emotions.
He stared at the floor until her bare feet were covered by the dry socks he’d offered to her. As his gaze moved upward, he took in the baggy sweatpants that were much too big for her. He’d forgotten about a shirt and she trumped his error by taking her sweet time adjusting the bra’s clasp between her breasts.
Breasts he had held and tasted.
He turned away from her and reached for the second pair of sweatpants.
Desperate times, desperate measures. He ripped the crotch out of the pants, turned to Kira and jerked the garment over her head.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a sweatshirt for you. Shove your arms up through the pant legs.”
Her hands never moved from her hips.
“Let me help you.” So what if he enjoyed seeing her spine straighten in annoyance? Also not his fault that he had to physically force her arms through the openings, which involved a lot more contact with everything from her arms to her abdomen. And those breasts.
“You can’t be serious.” She glanced down at the two mismatched pieces of clothing and then collected her unruly hair into some kind of messy bun at the base of her neck.
It was gawd-awful.
“You’ll be toasty warm now.” If the color lighting her cheeks was any indication, body temperature wasn’t an issue. Plus, he’d have no trouble keeping track of her, because she’d definitely stand out in a crowd.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m missing shoes.”
He had forgotten. But then he remembered the summer his foot had been in a cast. Every other night his mother had wrapped a plastic garbage bag around his cast and attached rubber bands to keep it in place, just so he could shower.
There must be trash bags somewhere in the trailer. A thorough search uncovered a few small plastic grocery bags. He inspected them for any rips and then gestured for Kira to extend her foot.
She leaned against the edge of the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. Raising her foot slightly off the floor, he double bagged it, tying a secure knot a few inches above her ankle.
Pure genius. He copied the routine for her other foot and admired his handiwork.
Kira seemed less than impressed. “Wipe the smile off your face.”
“Not a chance.” He stood and patted her knee. “Payback, cupcake.”
She sighed. “Are we going to the car?”
“Only if you have the keys.” There was no point in returning to the disabled vehicle.
Blessed silence. She took a sudden interest in her new attire, tugging at the “neckline” in earnest. He waited until she finally looked up at him.
She shrugged. “Okay, I lost the keys last night.”
“You should have stayed in the car,” Dalton insisted.
“I wasn’t thinking straight yesterday. You took the flash drive and I panicked.”
“No plan?” he asked, goading her. It was much too easy for him to read her.
“I used to be a great planner. Not so much lately.” She chewed her bottom lip and stared at him. “Where is it?”
“It’s safe.” She was visibly relieved. “But we can’t stay here.”
“I know, I know,” Kira agreed.
“The men who are after you might have already found the car. We need to get moving.” Evidently, it was enough motivation to bring her to her feet, the plastic bags rustling as she shuffled to the door.
“Are you hungry?” He reached for the chocolate doughnuts, offering them to her.
“I’m starved.” She plucked the package from his outstretched hand.
Dalton shouldered the door open, then scribbled a note, leaving it with several twenty-dollar bills to make up for imposing on the trailer the previous night. He stepped outside, where the ground was soggy but the air was crisp and inviting. Turning slightly, he offered Kira his arm. She retrieved a handful of toilet paper, shoving it beneath the sweatshirt, then followed him outside. After securing the door as best he could, he led her west.
They’d been headed north last night, so he had to believe that if they traveled west, they’d eventually find another highway. Or at least get to an area where he could use the phone.
Kira walked next to him, eagerly munching on doughnuts. Maybe that was the key to gaining her silence, an unending food supply. He let another minute pass before he asked the question that had kept him awake all night. The question he almost didn’t want answered.
“Who is Griffin?”
Chapter 8
Kira clutched the tote bag beneath her elbow, securing it to her side. Breathe in, breathe out. It would take effort to make the tone of her voice believable, since she had no way to escape or evade his question. She tossed the last doughnut into her mouth as a delay tactic. “It’s complicated and it might not make any sense to you.”
“Excuse me? I own the biggest coffee company on the planet.”
“No offense.” She shaded her eyes from the sun’s glare. “Insurance stuff is too dry for most people.”
“I’m not most people.”
Kira was thinking exactly the same thing. Most people wouldn’t have given her multiple chances. They would have dialed 911 at the convenience store and watched as she’d been arrested. Definitely would have ditched her after a car chase and bullets flying. Never would have followed her into a lightning storm at night. Or found a way to warm her. She owed him some sort of explanation.
“The government is bleeding money due to fraudulent Medicare claims. It’s too easy for someone to buy a medical degree from a little-known college in another country. They start a business, comb the obituaries for anyone over seventy and submit claims for treatment prior to their death.”
“Isn’t there a system in place to thwart it?”
“Of course, but the same people work both sides. They produce the security software for insurance companies and turn around and sell the bypass software to anyone willing to pay.”
“And the government can’t do anything to reduce the number of claims?” Dalton asked. “Do they have boots on the ground in the states with the highest numbers for insurance fraud cases?”
“They aren’t sitting on their hands, if that’s what you’re asking. But, like most things, cutbacks mean less oversight and more opportunity for corruption.”
The two of them walked in silence. Or relative silence, as she continued on her quest to get every morsel from the doughnut package. Kira wished she had something to wash the taste from her mouth.
“If you work for an insurance company, then why are you on the wrong side of the law?”
Kira wiped her mouth and shoved the trash in the tote bag. “I’m very good at my job.”
“Who said you weren’t?”
“I’ve investigated at least a hundred different doctors’ offices. We’ve brought charges against eighty-two individuals posing as doctors and recovered sixty-eight
million dollars in fraudulent claims, strictly for Midwest Mutual. Medicare fraud costs taxpayers over twenty billion dollars a year.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I was closing in on Griffin, okay? In my spare time, because I have no life, I lived and breathed to bring him down.” Also because I missed Josh. She shook off the thought. “Remember that threat I told you about? I think Griffin is framing me, for at least some of his handiwork.”
“Your proof—those payments to nonexistent doctors you mentioned, approved by you—”
“Supposedly approved by me. His operation must be even bigger than I thought. I’d never seen those claims before, yet I have plenty of other fraudulent claims I can link to Griffin.” She may have shared a bit too much information. The thought distracted her enough that she slipped on the wet grass, fell and landed on her butt.
Dalton did a very poor job of fighting his laughter. “What I wouldn’t give for a camera. You look like a redneck clown.”
“That’s not very nice.” She tsked a couple times. And really, was it necessary to make fun of any clothing choices, when he was the one who had dressed her? Plus, she needed a bathroom.
“I’ll help you up.” He extended his hand.
Kira glared at him for a second, then reached up to take his hand.
A shotgun blast broke through the humor of their situation, and Dalton quickly joined her on the ground. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t turn her head to see anything but sunshine through the knee-high grass. “Is someone shooting at us?”
Dalton’s palm covered her mouth. “I think it’s hunters. Deer season.” She nodded and he removed his hand.
“Let’s ask them for a ride,” she whispered.
“Stay still a couple more minutes.”
Kira had dealt with more than enough guns and bullets in the past twenty-four hours, so it didn’t take any convincing to keep her pressed to the wet ground. She heard voices of at least three people, maybe four.
Dalton stared down at her, held a finger to his lips and crawled forward several feet, apparently for a better view. She listened but couldn’t decipher any of the words exchanged. Her skin started to chill and she tried thinking warm thoughts again. Started thinking of all the things she’d do when this was over.
When she was cleared of the charges, she was taking a trip somewhere warm. She’d always wanted to visit Hawaii, but her fear of flying meant she was limited to traveling by bus or train. She’d probably be banned from ever renting another vehicle.
When this was over. It had to end soon, right? She was not cut out to play hide-and-seek with bad guys or good guys or all the other guys in between.
A whistle pierced the air. “I know I hit him. How far do you think he went?”
Kira grabbed Dalton’s leg, praying he’d give her some kind of signal if the hunters were headed their way. When his hand covered hers, she bit her tongue, closed her eyes and listened. Maybe they should ask the hunters for help. Would they offer them a ride to the nearest town? Then again, they did have guns and might think they were deer covered in mud.
“Okay, they’re out of sight. It’s safe to get up.” Dalton rose and pulled her to her feet.
“Which way did they go?” She stood and slipped the tote bag over her shoulder, briefly checking the ground for anything that may have fallen out.
“To the south, but I’m wondering if they left a vehicle parked somewhere nearby. Two of them were noticeably overweight and probably not used to walking a long distance.”
Yeah, and they probably had high blood pressure, too.
Dalton tugged on her hand and they jogged across to the tree line. He was in much better shape than she was, as evidenced by the fact he wasn’t even breathing hard when they reached their destination.
“Here’s the plan.” He reached for her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I want you walking on my left side. Your sweatshirt is bright enough to draw attention and we need to blend in a little longer. Understand?”
Was it her imagination or did he stress the fact that he had a plan?
“Kira?”
“Yes, I understand.”
He hooked an arm around her waist and they stepped into a patch of orange and brown leaves covering the ground. A few more leaves were gently falling in the light breeze, and her feet crunched on twigs mixed in with the leaves. Dalton kept her from tripping more than once as the terrain dipped and sloped.
The shelter of the woods also kept the sun from reaching them, and Kira grew chilly again. Was she ever going to be warm? Dumb question. It immediately had her pondering the brief time she’d spent in Dalton’s arms. She inched closer to his body as they walked. Then she stepped on a sharp twig that cut right through her makeshift footwear, and she yelped in pain.
He jerked to a stop and raised her foot for inspection. “I really wish you hadn’t lost your shoes.”
“My fault. Tell me we’re getting close to civilization. Can you see anything?”
He glanced behind them, mumbled something she couldn’t decipher and tugged her onto his back. “I haven’t done this in forever.”
“Dalton, I can walk. Honestly, you’re going to hurt yourself, and Lord knows I can’t carry you anywhere.”
He laughed. “You’d try.” His strides easily doubled hers and she realized he’d been letting her set the pace earlier. “I used to do this all the time in basic training, eons ago.”
“You were in the army?”
“Coast Guard.”
Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her chest pressed against his spine and absorbing the heat he radiated. “I can’t picture the connection between coffee and the Coast Guard.”
“I had a buddy who could talk me into anything. Two cocky kids fresh out of high school and ready to save the world. Found out pretty quick you can’t save everyone.”
Who hadn’t he saved, this man who protected her from her attackers, from herself and the elements? It was difficult picturing him failing at anything. He was hauling her around as if she weighed nothing. He wasn’t even breathing hard or breaking a sweat.
But last night he had been. His breath skating across her naked body. His hands touching every sensitive place, filling a need she hadn’t acknowledged in a very long time.
“I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess,” Kira murmured. “It’s not your responsibility.”
“You’re sorry a lot. Hell, you even apologize in your sleep.”
“I do not.” She cringed at the thought of babbling for hours. If she’d talked about Griffin, was there a chance she’d mentioned Brandon?
“How would you know? You’re asleep.” He turned his head to make eye contact with her. “I have a pretty good memory. Want me to cover the high points?”
Oh, crap, times a dozen. Was there even a good answer to that question? At the very least she had to tell him something to divert the conversation.
“The FBI wants me because they think I embezzled eleven million dollars. They found eight hundred thousand dollars in a bank account in Denver. An account Josh told me he’d closed right after we were married.”
Dalton’s shoulders stiffened. Perhaps she’d struck a nerve?
“Or maybe he was diversifying his accounts so all his money wasn’t tied up at the same time.”
“All his money?” She scoffed. “I never saw any money.”
“We can’t be talking about the same person.”
“Josh was completely focused on his painting. My job paid the bills.” Even though Kira tried keeping her anger in check, the bitterness managed to find its way out.
“Painting was just a hobby.” Dalton navigated over a fallen tree. “Josh majored in computer science.”
“Wait a second. Are you saying he’d already graduated and could have
been working somewhere?” Kira loosened her hold and leaned forward to see Dalton’s face.
“Yes, he graduated. Studied art in Paris for nearly a year. Dividends from Buckshot’s stock funded his adventures.”
“And how much were these dividend checks that he spent on himself?” she demanded. Or a better question, why was she dwelling on Josh’s behavior, when it wouldn’t bring him back to face the music?
“You’re describing a self-centered person. What in the world led you into marriage?”
“Um, he was very charming.” Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? There was no way she could confess the truth about her unplanned pregnancy and Josh’s eventual abandonment, at least not while she was clinging to Dalton and wearing plastic sacks on her feet. But she had to be truthful with herself. Having unprotected sex not once, but almost twice, with brothers, was too embarrassing to admit out loud.
“Not only were you married to my brother for almost four years, the entire time you lived mainly in poverty while he pursued a love of painting?”
“It was actually only—”
Dalton shushed her before she could admit they’d been together for only eight months. He loosened his grip and she slid from his back, scanning the area to try to figure out exactly what he had seen. She nearly jumped for joy when she spotted the full-size pickup truck parked less than a hundred feet in front of them.
“Stay here.” He gestured for her to squat down out of sight.
She nodded and moved into position, which quickly had her bladder sending out distress signals. She fished the toilet paper out of her bra and waited impatiently for Dalton to give the all-clear signal. Several minutes later he waved her forward as he popped the hood on the truck.
Kira hurriedly took care of business and carefully trekked to Dalton’s side.
“What are you doing?”
“Disabling the GPS. If the owner reports it stolen, it will take more than five minutes to find us.”
“Right.”
“Climb inside and buckle up.” Dalton dropped the hood and slipped behind the wheel.
Kira had no trouble opening the door and setting the tote bag on the floorboard, but it took two tries to balance on the running board before climbing inside. She scanned the interior as he started the engine.