He was also becoming increasingly uncomfortable in a very male way, with Rihanna’s head cushioned on his shoulder and her luscious body wrapped tightly down his right side. That was something he could deal with and ignore.
He guessed Rihanna’s bloodcurdling screams were a solid indication of her sleep being interrupted by the demons of the evening. He had half expected it and had almost suggested he sleep in the same room. His better judgement had won out. A suggestion of sleeping in the same room would have been hard to float without inferring any other motive.
She sighed again, taking a deep breath and burying her head into the tawny skin of his shoulder and chest. A slight sprinkling of silky hair tickled her nose, but she wasn’t about to move because the clean, male scent of him filled her senses and was beginning to provide a very real distraction from the nightmare she had awoken from.
At last she spoke, her warm breath caressing the skin on his chest. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.” She paused and then went on. “I’m not normally such a wreck. I just can’t seem to stop thinking about what happened.”
“I half expected that you would have a bad night. That was one of the reasons I suggested you come back here. Not much fun when you wake up alone to the night demons chasing you down.”
It was his turn to pause. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”
He struggled with himself about that line. It was true he didn’t want her to be alone and in pain. He also could not afford her to be alone and another attempt on her safety be made. His job was to keep her safe and make sure she stayed that way.
Rihanna was surprised at just how insightful he was. “Thanks for looking out for me. I really appreciate it.” She stifled a yawn and snuggled in again.
Bray glanced at the illuminated face on his wristwatch. “Why don’t we try to get some more sleep? It’s a few minutes before five and another three or four hours sleep would sure help us both.”
She realised he had been up working well into the night and he been looking after her on top of that. He must be totally exhausted.
“I’ll be fine if you want to head back to your own bed,” she suggested.
“How about we just stay right where we are? You seem pretty comfortable and if you have any more nightmares, I won’t have to come charging down the hall.”
Before Rihanna could even think through his suggestion, she found herself nodding in agreement. If she admitted the truth, she didn’t want him to be anywhere than where he was right now. She felt safe, warm, and more than a little turned on, but more than that, she felt bone weary and a few hours’ sleep was the only cure for the tiredness weighing her to the mattress of the bed.
***
Rihanna woke from a very sound, dreamless sleep to find herself very comfortably wrapped in Bray’s large, solid body. She was laying on her right side and his firm chest and abdomen where a wall of warmth down her back. His left arm was loosely holding her to him. It was only when she slightly moved and he closed his left hand did she realise it was cupping her right breast.
An instant jolt of desire swept through her and settled tightly between her legs. Instinctively, she wriggled backward, moving even closer to his warm body. Her sweetly curved butt bumped directly into the solid evidence of a very turned-on male in the morning.
His warm breath nuzzled across her left ear and caused the wispy hair to flutter. “Do that again, sweetheart, and I’m going to forget my manners.”
In a voice that didn’t seem to be hers, she replied, “I think I just might like you to forget your manners.” He groaned and rolled away.
The stark reality of what she had said hit home. She had just issued a full wanton invitation...and he’d turned her down. What on earth was wrong with her? She didn’t have sex with men she had known for less than twelve hours, did she? Oh God, how embarrassing.
She wished the earth would open up and swallow her. Clearly it wasn’t going to, so she did the next best thing and dragged the sheet over her hotly embarrassed face. “Just go. I’m dying of embarrassment here.” She felt him move and immediately thought he had got up to leave. Instead, he was just rolling over to peel the sheet back from her face to reveal the red flush of dire embarrassment.
He didn’t say anything and she could almost feel his warm breath on her face as he stared down at her. Finally curiosity outweighed embarrassment and she cautiously opened her eyes a crack. When he had her full attention, he said, “There’s nothing embarrassing about asking for a little attention.” His voice was soft and almost caressing. “If I knew you better and circumstances were different, I’d act on this attraction that we both clearly feel and give you all the attention both of us evidently want.” He emphasised the word evidently.
He drew her attention momentarily from the directness of his clear blue gaze by glancing to the clearly outlined erection in his dark grey mini cotton bike shorts. The fact that he purposely disclosed his very obvious arousal provided an equalling factor between them. “But for now, we need to take things steady, and you need to be thinking with a clear head.”
He caught her chin in the soft cup of his hand and returned her eyes to his. “How do you like your coffee?” He ended the question with the easy smirk and before she could answer, he had lowered his head to brush her lips with his. Again it was an incredibly light kiss but his lips lingered longer and hinted very much at what it would be like if caution was thrown to the wind.
She smiled at the obvious tease and the easy rapport that he had effortlessly restored between them. Her confidence returned. “White with two.”
“Coming right up, gorgeous. I’ll meet you on the veranda in five.” With that, he unfolded his long, elegantly muscled body from the bed and headed for the door. On reaching the door, he turned and gave her what she saw as his trademark grin and a sly wink. He was gone and her heart was doing little flip-flops in her chest.
She quickly rose and attended to bathroom needs. It was a choice between her borrowed and very rumpled T-shirt or the skimpy dress. The T-shirt won out for the moment.
Bray hastily headed back to his room and threw on a loose singlet and dark pair of a popular brand board shorts. He ran a hand through his sleep-tussled hair and it fell in to place exactly as it had been cut to. He needed to have a serious chat with Rihanna—and soon—before things developed anymore between them. There was a serious job to do and there was also this brewing attraction that didn’t seem to want to go away that was going to need to be addressed.
He needed to give her a bit of information as to what he did—she was going to have to be attached to his side for the foreseeable future until this mess was sorted out. Her safety was paramount. He really needed to have her as a willing participant in solving this incident. If she wasn’t willing, his job would become about one hundred times more difficult to perform.
These thoughts were cutting swiftly through his head as he went about making coffee for them both. Feeling his stomach growling, he grabbed a couple of tubs of yoghurt and some fresh stone fruit from the fridge. What woman didn’t like yoghurt and fruit? He placed it all out on a long, heavy timber table that sat off to the side of the reclining lounges they had used last night. He wanted to be able to look her directly in the eye as he spoke to her and the outdoor lounge chairs, although comfortable, would not work for the discussion he had in mind.
He strategically placed himself with his back to the railing under the overhanging roof providing necessary shelter from the harsh rays of the Queensland sun at the height of summer. Already mid-morning, there wasn’t much time to waste.
Bray didn’t have much time to ponder the opening lines of his “discussion” before she appeared at the French doors. She noticed almost immediately that he had set breakfast at the oversized timber table and as he expected, she settled into the comfy canvas padded chair.
“This looks great, yoghurt and fruit—two of my favourite things for breakfast.”
Yep, score one for the home team, he thought
. What woman didn’t like fruit and yoghurt? More to the point, what woman would admit to not liking them? He watched her long dextrous fingers select a juicy ripe nectarine and place it on the handmade pottery plate he had set for her. He opted for a tub of yoghurt and ripped the top off.
She didn’t say anything for a while as she quietly went about devouring the nectarine. At last, he decided it was time to get things going.
“Let’s rewind and do the whole getting to know you thing a bit better than what we managed last night.”
Rihanna looked directly at him and smiled openly. “I hope this doesn’t sound too corny, but I’d like that very much.” She’d started and he was nodding in encouragement, so she decided to dive right in and continue.
“We went through quite a bit last night aaaaaand this morning. You were right; my head was running on emotional overload and not really thinking straight.” She paused momentarily and then added, “So thank you for being the sensible one and preventing me from jumping into something that I really wasn’t ready for just yet.”
The way she added the “just yet” left no doubts at all between either of them that she was aware of the mutual attraction between them.
“You’re welcome. The circumstances have been anything but normal.” He’d get to that in just a minute, he thought. Get her talking and a bit more relaxed and trusting first.
“So you mentioned last night that you work with animals. Tell me about that.”
“I’m a vet specialising in equines. Horses,” she quickly added, realising that few people outside the industry knew what equines were.
“Yeah, I’ve had a bit to do with equines myself,” he added, sparking her interest. He wasn’t about to tell her that he had enough equine DNA running through him to pass most equine blood tests just yet. “My parents had a farm so I grew up with horses. Mainly stock horses but my mum and sisters did a bit of show jumping.”
“Great, so at least you know which end does the eating and what end does the kicking.”
He nodded in agreement.
“My father is a very well-known equine surgeon and specialist, so I kind of followed in his footsteps. I joined his practice straight out of uni and I’m still there.” Bingo, just the information he needed to confirm she was the right target. His gut and all his information told him she was, but it never hurt to have the target confirm it as well.
“So where do you have your practice?” he asked.
“We have an equine practice and hospital at Biddaddaba. It’s about thirty minutes behind the Gold Coast.” She automatically added the qualification; not many people were familiar with the strange-sounding place.
“I know exactly where Biddaddaba is. I’ve been to a polo match at some flash place out there.”
“Yeah, well, we are just down the road from there. In a place that is nowhere near as flash as that.” She raised her eyebrows at the “nowhere” to emphasise the opulence of polo centre he had referred to. He laughed at that.
“Not many places are.” She started to take a little more notice of her surrounds. He was obviously a very successful musician, judging by what she saw around her. The house and grounds were clearly all professionally designed and no doubt managed. The atmosphere was homely and warm but quality was a consistent theme through everything she had seen and experienced since driving through his front gates. Yes, a strong sense of quality and class but not pretentious or gaudy like so many Gold Coast residences.
It seemed like the time to ask a bit more about him. “So you are obviously a very successful musician.”
He laughed and took another sip of his coffee. Minky sat straighter in her chair and the expression on her face ran through about five different options before she finally settled on what he thought was cautiously curious. She was getting easier and easier to read.
“Well, aren’t you a successful musician?” she pushed at him with just a slight impatient edge to her voice. He could tell she was mentally hopping between feet, hoping she hadn’t made a massive faux pas.
“I guess you could say I am a successful musician, from time to time.” With that remark, she opened her palms face up in a half exasperated, half encouraging gesture. “I was only filling in for the band last night. I do write or co-write a lot of their music but I don’t often perform.”
“Why not? You were so good last night. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t perform.”
It was an obvious question given the circumstances, but the answer wasn’t as clear-cut and he wasn’t quite sure yet just how much he should divulge.
“I have other talents and business interests that keep me pretty occupied so it becomes difficult to spend any real amount of time with the guys.” He took another sip of coffee and went on. “So we decided years ago that they would do the band thing and I would help out when I could. I’ve known all the guys since high school. I love music and writing it. This arrangement allows me to do both.”
Ah ha, she thought. That explained the easy rapport between them backstage. Rihanna’s curious nature took over and she pressed on. “So what does other talents and business interests mean?”
He looked her directly in the eye and paused, contemplating the options. He could either give her a bit more of the picture or he could keep skirting around with evasion and gross half-truths. Instinct told him Minky was a lady who liked to take her medicine straight up, screw up her nose, take a gulp of water and then get on with it. He hoped she felt the same about what he was about to tell her, otherwise he might just blow the whole assignment.
He must have contemplated too long because she pushed harder. “So are you going to tell me or not?” He could easily pick up from her body language and tone that the “not” part was something she wouldn’t tolerate.
“Rihanna, what I’m going to tell you could be a bit out there.” Her beautifully curved eyebrows shot skywards at his remarks. “So I would appreciate it if you would give me the chance to fully explain.”
Right now she was very curious and a healthy dose of caution had been shovelled on top for good measure. What sort of profession had a guy so worried about telling her? Oh God, it must be bad. Her mind whizzed through a dozen shady career options and couldn’t quite find one that she thought fitted.
Rihanna watched Brayden suck in a deep breath and continue.
“I work for a very exclusive and highly confidential agency that tackles particularly unpleasant issues. The agency calls itself the Centre.”
Well, that told her a lot, she thought. In her mind, he had just described the taxation department.
So far so good, he thought. “I have specialist training and talents that make me unique in my field, which is mainly assignments regarding the investigation and apprehension of drug, biological, environmental, chemical, and quarantine felons.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. You’re sort of like a policeman?” she qualified.
“Not quite. The work I do is so confidential and classified that only a handful of people in this country even know that the agency exists.” He was letting her process the additional information.
“So if the work you do is so secret, why are you telling me?”
He was watching her clever mind line up the pieces when he joined the dots for her. “You’re my current assignment.” There, he’d looked her straight in the eye and said it.
A million different expressions and thoughts instantaneously rose through her mind and seeped through to her face. She was shaking her head in disbelief.
“What on earth are you talking about?” she demanded in a voice that cracked with her utter shock. Her stomach felt as if it had fallen through the floor. He could clearly see that she was struggling to keep her already frayed emotions in check. The temper simmered in her voice and he figured that one would be the first to seriously show its form.
“The attempted abduction last night was not random. It was well planned and executed.”
Realisation flashed through her. “You mean those ba
stards had somehow targeted me. What for? Why would they want me?” Rihanna sprung from her chair and stalked to the railing, her eyes flashing and her footsteps solid and purposeful.
She spun around and as he expected, unloaded right at him. “What the hell is going on and how am I involved in this? I want the truth and I want it now.” She folded her arms across her chest with considerable force.
Yep, she was royally pissed. That would turn to fright soon enough.
"The agency I work for discovered that there is a group of slightly less than legitimate businessmen attempting to smuggle something that you have been working on out of the country. We believe that the virology work that you and your father have been doing is slated to be used in a biological attack."
This immediately caused Rihanna's eyebrows to rise. "Are you referring to our work on the Hendra virus?"
His answer was a short, "Yes."
"But Brayden, the damage could be incomparable if somebody decides to use the virus as a weapon. You do know what that virus could do if it got into the wrong hands?" Rihanna spun on her heel and caught Brayden nodding in understanding to her question.
"We believe we have a fair idea of the potential threat. My agency was also hoping you could help confirm our thinking."
The Hendra virus had sparked fears throughout the entire equestrian and racing communities on the eastern seaboard. Over the last few years, the virus had killed several prominent figures, including two veterinarians.
“We believe that information regarding the virus has been passed on from within your veterinary hospital, prob—” Bray didn’t get time to finish before she had jumped all over him.
“We do not leak vital information from our hospital,” she spat, clearly outraged at the allegation. “I can’t believe this.” She shook her head in stunned, angry disbelief.
Finding Trust (Centre Games) Page 5
