Any one of those bad traits would kill her unwanted desire for the guy.
“No girlfriend,” he finally replied.
Finding it suddenly easier to breathe, Kat attributed the relief washing through her body as a by-product of putting her situation into perspective. By staying with Brogan, as her uncle had asked, she’d put her obsession for the sexy SEAL to bed.
She swallowed a groan over her bad word choice.
“How about you?” He turned onto a road that headed uphill. “Is there a significant other I should worry about?”
For the past year, her grandmother had been her significant other. “No.” Gripping the seat as the climb grew steeper, she willed the man to keep his gaze on the road.
“Hard to believe.”
Unsure if she’d heard the words or imagined them, she glanced at him. He had both hands on the wheel, gaze trained straight ahead. It was official. She was imagining things. As the road leveled off, so did her pulse, and she eased her grip on the seat.
“Why’d you leave DEVGRU?” she asked, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was probably too personal.”
“It’s okay,” he replied, turning onto yet another road. “I’m your bodyguard. You have a right to know my history.”
For some reason, those words warmed her from within. So did the fact it was becoming clear he wasn’t a pompous jerk at all.
“I left when my grandfather was diagnosed with stage 4 prostate cancer. And just before he passed, he made me promise not to go back.”
The opposite of a pompous jerk.
Without thinking, she set her hand on his arm. “That had to be tough. I’m sorry.”
He turned to her and blinked as if he’d never heard the words before. This induced a sudden burning in her throat.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
Knowing tears were the last thing a man like him would want, she fought them back, and released his arm, opting to nod instead of reply. Besides, every time she opened her mouth around the guy, she said something stupid.
Silence enveloped the cab for the remainder of the drive. She had more questions for him, but since they were going to be cooped up together for a while, she figured she had time and a better shot at sounding normal if she cleared the fog from her brain by putting space between them.
Right now, they were too confined. She could practically feel him breathing. But it was a good thing. It kept her focus on him and off her uncle and godfather and the dangers they were about to face.
Brogan turned onto a dirt drive, and soon the road opened into a clearing. It was like something out of a movie. He stopped in front of a beautiful log cabin with a small corral and barn on one side, and another barn on the other side. But what stole her breath was the massive mountain jutting up sharply in the background.
Her gasp echoed through the silent cab. “This is amazing.” Without waiting for his reply, Kat slipped from the truck and staggered a few feet, completely in awe of the majestic beauty surrounding her. The forest was thick and lush. Such a contrast to the rock mountain. “Truly incredible,” she repeated, her fingers itching to sketch and paint until they fell off.
Goose bumps covered her arms. “Who knew something so beautiful existed?” She rubbed them away and glanced at the man leaning against his truck, regarding her with an unreadable expression on his face.
No doubt, he thought she was stupid.
So what? He may be used to the view, but she wasn’t.
“Sorry,” she said, turning around in a circle. “I don’t know where to look first. It’s impossible to take it all in with just one glance.”
He nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll move your things into the house.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and turned back to stare at the mountain, marveling at the rock hues and how trees managed to grow on such a hard surface.
In the corral, two horses wandered over, so she met them at the fence and slowly lifted her hands for each to sniff. With their ears upright and posture welcoming, she stroked their withers and talked softly to them. After a few minutes of petting, she stepped back and blew in their noses as a form of greeting, delighted when they both blew back. She had two new friends.
She also had an observer.
Turning to where she felt someone watching, she found Brogan standing in the middle of the driveway, easel in one hand, suitcase in the other, and a stunned look directed at her.
“Is everything all right?” She moved toward him.
He blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t expect you to know your way around horses.”
She smiled. “Grew up with them on my uncle’s ranch in Virginia.” A flash of guilt skittered through her. “I’m sorry. Let me help. I didn’t mean for you carry everything in.”
“I’m good,” he said, and continued toward the house.
Well, she wasn’t good with letting him do all the heavy lifting. She walked around the open truck door, and noted he’d carried in everything but her supply box, sketch pad, and backpack. He was either quick, or the horses had occupied her longer than she’d thought. She grasped the last of her belongings, shut the door, and hurried after him, immediately falling in love with the large front porch that ran the length of the home.
The wooden posts and railing were hand carved with grooves that mimicked the surrounding pines and matched the table and two chairs grouped in front of a large window.
“Let me take those.” Brogan appeared and tugged the things from her hands before she could protest.
Taking advantage of her free hands, she ran them over the rail. “This porch is amazing. The rails look homemade.”
“My grandfather made them. He built the whole house,” Brogan said, pride lighting his eyes. “He took his time with the porch.”
“It’s beautiful.” She turned to face him, then gasped when she caught sight of the opened door. “Wow…” Kat brushed past him to examine the wooden door full of intricate carvings of wildlife and the surrounding landscape. There was even a deck of cards with the ace and jack of spades showing. “Did he make this door, too? It’s incredible!”
Brogan walked into the house and set her things by the rest of her stuff on the couch. “I made it.”
She straightened and shot her gaze to him. “You made the door?”
“Yes,” he replied. “For my grandfather, before I joined the Navy.”
“Wow, Brogan. You’re gifted,” she stated. “This is truly a work of art.”
He shrugged. “My grandfather taught me to carve when I was a kid. It’s just something I enjoy doing.”
“It shows.” She turned back to study the door once more, smiling as she ran her fingertips over the playing cards. “I’ve got to ask. Why the cards?”
Awareness spread down her spine as he drew up behind her. “It was my grandfather’s favorite card game. And his nickname. Black Jack.”
For some reason, his explanation triggered a wave of emotion that formed a heated ball in her throat. “Perfect,” she replied, but it came out as a whisper. She tried swallowing. That didn’t help. Clearing it wasn’t much better.
“Agreed.” His warm breath tickled her exposed neck, sending goose bumps down her spine.
Unable to breathe, and barely able to think, she willed the man to move. He did.
Closer.
Chapter Four
With her body cheering with a resounding tremor, she grasped the door when his lips grazed the hair on the back of her head.
It was like one of her fantasies coming to life. Except they would be naked.
A second later, he muttered an oath and stepped back, taking his heat with him. Her body protested, and disappointment washed through her as she turned around to watch him stride to the couch and grab her suitcase.
“I’ll show you to your room,” he said, voice as expressionless as his face.
If she hadn’t felt the brush of his lips and heard his muttered oath, Kat could’ve been persuaded the whole thing had been
in her head.
But it wasn’t, and now she knew he felt the strange pull, too.
She also knew he wasn’t going to cross that line. He was getting paid to protect her. Intimacy could impair his judgement. She was his job. His mark. His target.
Nothing more.
She’d do well to remember that…and leave getting physical with the man to her fantasies. With a sigh, she followed his lead and buried the possibilities. This wasn’t really a vacation, and they weren’t together socially. Switching gears, she focused on her surroundings.
The living room was large and opened to the kitchen, which was surprisingly modern, with granite counters and stainless steel appliances, but the island was a showstopper. Another beautiful wood carved masterpiece, it was two-tiered with four matching wooden stools. As soon as she wiped the drool from her face, she ran her hands over the island, noting that even the beams in the vaulted ceiling were hand carved.
Pulse pounding, she stared at the room in awe. It felt as if she were in a gallery showcasing exquisite wooden pieces of art. Brogan. She knew they were made by his hand and not his grandfather’s. Kat felt it. Like the breathtaking door, the pieces spoke to her soul.
He appeared from down the hall, seemingly unaware of the emotional state his work put her in. “I have to make your bed.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she was more than capable of doing it herself, but he strode out the front door. Closing her mouth, she caught sight of him through the window and watched him disappear into the larger of the two barns.
Strange place to keep linens.
Not bothering to even try to understand the enigmatic man, she grabbed her backpack from the couch then headed down the hall to look for the room with her suitcase. The first bedroom smelled like Brogan and made her knees wobble. She inhaled twice before leaving to pass a modern bathroom, before finding her suitcase in the only other room at the end of the hall.
Upon entering the room, Kat understood what Brogan had meant about needing to make her bed. There wasn’t one. The room had everything else. Dressers, a large closet where her suitcase sat. Even a fireplace. And next to the closet was a door to the master bath. She peeked inside, noting it was modern with a large walk-in stone shower. Beautiful. Too beautiful for a guest.
Why wasn’t Brogan using the master bedroom?
When she walked back into the bedroom she was startled to find the appearance of another beautiful piece of wooden art. A large headboard sat against the far wall, and although it wasn’t exactly like the other pieces, she noted a few of the carvings had a familiar “stroke”.
Damn…that SEAL sure was quiet. She hadn’t heard him at all.
Unable to keep away, she crossed the room to examine the headboard, loving the heavy posts and scrollwork carrying a distinct Montana motif.
“I’ll have this together in a few minutes,” he said, walking through the door with bedrails in his hands. “It was put in storage when my grandfather needed one of those hospital beds. Didn’t bother to set it up after…afterwards.”
Her chest tightened at the pain she heard in his words. She understood too well. “My gram had to use one, too.” Not a day went by that Kat didn’t miss the woman who had been more mother than grandmother to her. “She passed six months ago. How long for your grandfather?”
He was on his knees, sliding bedrails into the slots on the headboard. “’Bout three,” he replied, never looking up.
Instinctively knowing he wasn’t the type to talk about his grief, she dropped the subject. “Did you make this headboard, too?”
“I helped.” He rose to his feet. “I think I was ten. We made it when I was visiting one summer.”
“It’s another perfect piece.”
His lips twitched. “I notice a ton of apprentice mistakes.”
“I think it’s perfect, and I’m betting your grandfather did, too.”
Once again, pain clouded his gorgeous hazel eyes, but the half-smile remained on his lips. “He told me they were his favorite parts.”
She wanted to say more, but only nodded. She’d pushed it enough. “So, where’s the mattress?”
He pointed to the ceiling. “In the storage space above the bedrooms.”
“There’s an attic on this side? Nice.” She frowned. “But I didn’t notice a door.”
A smile spread across his lips. “That’s the idea. And it’s actually a place I want you to see.” He pressed on the wooden wall on the other side of the closet, and it sprang open to reveal a set of stairs. “Follow me.”
He turned on the lights, and as she followed him upstairs, she discovered a large dual purpose room. One side was storage, the other housed a wall of security monitors, fully loaded gun rack, shelves of ammo, knives, 2-way radios, thermal imaging devices, night vision goggles, blankets, and an assortment of survival supplies.
Everything you’d expect in a SEAL’s home.
“Given the little I know of your grandfather, I’m betting this part of the room wasn’t his doing.”
Brogan flipped a few switches on the control panel, and images of the mountain, driveway, and surrounding land appeared on the screens. “You’re right. I installed it last month after Hank recruited me.” He hit another button and a radar screen appeared. “If anyone does come looking for you, we’ll see them first.”
A stark reminder why she was playing house with one of her uncle’s former men. She was under his protection. As if fate wanted to make sure she got the reminder, Brogan’s phone rang.
“O’Neal,” he stated, back stiffening as he listened. “Yes, sir. Roger. Will do. Out.”
He hung up, grabbed two wrist devices from the wall, fussed with each, before handing one to her and affixing the other to his wrist. “I synchronized these with the system. They’ll alert us if we have company.”
“Super, but who was on the phone?”
“Commander Craw—your uncle,” he amended.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine.”
She blew out a breath and nodded. “What was the call about?”
His gaze narrowed but he remained silent.
“Look, I know you’re being paid to protect me, but I am not some celebrity who thinks a SCAR is a reason to see a swanky Beverly Hills plastic surgeon, instead of a Special Operations Forces Combat Assault Rifle.” She fought back the urge to growl as he continued to stare at her. “For goodness sakes, Brogan. You know my uncle and godfather. Do you really think I grew up faint of heart? I can handle whatever you tell me.”
He cocked his head. “That’s exactly what concerns them.”
Dammit. This was stupid.
“I gave my word I would listen to you and wouldn’t leave here. And I always keep my word.”
After another frustrating moment of silence, he nodded. “Your uncle knows who’s making the threats. A man by the name of Hector Janvier, brother to the arms dealer killed in that raid.”
Hope kicked up her pulse. “How close are they to taking him down?”
“Not very,” he replied. “The guy disappeared off the grid.”
Her stomach tightened as disappointment washed away her short-lived hope. “Damn.” She would’ve preferred a different answer. One where her uncle and godfather were about to complete their mission and neutralize the threat within the first six hours.
“And for the record,” Brogan said. “I know you can take care of yourself. That’s why I gave you one of the wrist monitors.”
She nodded. “I appreciate it.”
After securing the device, she listened to his quick rundown of operating instructions, even though she already knew how to use one. His voice was clear and precise, and the military tone calmed her nerves, which had jumped to attention with that phone call.
Even though her sequestered state didn’t end in one of the briefest missions on record, Kat took solace in the fact her uncle had a target to sniff out, and the best sniffer—Brooke—on the man’s trail.
All she h
ad to do was sit tight in the safety of Brogan’s…domain, and try not to worry about her uncle and godfather or think about the monster they were tracking.
“Come on. Let’s finish putting your bed together.”
As her fantasy SEAL led her across the room to a queen size mattress, her mind shifted into a different type of dangerous territory.
***
Years ago, if someone had told Brogan he’d be sharing his grandfather’s cabin with the commander’s gorgeous niece…and the commander was going to pay him to protect her…and remove the “don’t touch” threat, he would’ve called them batshit crazy.
But here he was, going on his third day with Kat as his “guest”. They’d fallen into a comfortable routine. She’d sit on his porch and sketch, or set up her easel in the yard and paint, while he disappeared into his woodworking shop for ten hours and tackle his list of orders.
He stopped sanding the oak block on the table and glanced to the corner on his right. It was already filling up with finished projects. At least something positive was coming out of the situation. His desire to stay away from his “desire” had benefited the backlog. His libido, on the other hand, was playing havoc with his brain, making him question why he stayed away from Kat when he’d wanted to taste her for years.
And being around the flesh and blood woman the past few days increased the pull she unknowingly wielded over him. But that wasn’t what made resisting her so hard. It was the fact he saw the same fierce desire that coursed through him mirrored in her eyes.
All it would take was one look or touch from either of them, and he knew they’d self-combust.
The commander had removed the restraints that had been the only thing to hold him back all these years. There was nothing standing in his way, except her safety.
No way would he allow his libido to impair his judgement. He couldn’t afford the distraction. Giving in wasn’t an option, no matter how much he wanted to.
Muttering a curse, he turned around and went back to hand-sanding a rough patch on the large block of oak he’d cut into a rectangle he was contracted to turn into a personalized ranch sign for Hank’s neighbor. Better to lay his hands on it instead of… “Kat?”
Brotherhood Protectors: Elite Protector (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 4
