Guarding Raine (Security Ops)

by Brant, Kylie

  He squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the words. She gave him such gifts so sweetly, without reservations. She left herself vulnerable with such offerings. Most people kept a little something of themselves in reserve, so as not to risk too much. She apparently had never learned that lesson. Her words seeped into him, seeming to fill the huge void that had become his life in recent years. The knowledge was scary, but too damn tantalizing to resist. And even then she wasn’t done.

  Her hand stroked his jaw tenderly. “I love you, Macauley O’Neill. Nothing will ever change that.” She pressed her mouth to his when he would have spoken. Kissing him slowly, she drew his bottom lip into her mouth and ran her tongue across it. “I don’t expect anything in return. My love is a gift, freely given.”

  He spoke anyway, around the huge knot her words had caused to form in his throat. “You don’t have one ounce of self- preservation, do you? You picked a hell of a guy to give your love to, Raine. A broken-down ex-soldier who’s lost his soul.”

  “I did pick a hell of a man to give my love to.” Her inflection changed the meaning of his words. “Don’t you worry about me. I think I can survive one Macauley O’Neill.”

  Her words made a mockery of his concern, even as they highlighted it. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should stop worrying about keeping her safe from him.

  Maybe it was time to start worrying about how he was going to survive without her.

  Chapter 14

  “Wow, that’s some remodeling project going on out there.” Sarah prowled to the front window. “The fence is sure going up fast. And what in heaven’s name happened to your porch? It looks like you let a barbecue get out of hand.”

  Raine joined her friend at the window. “The fence is ugly, isn’t it?” Her voice was flat. There would be an intercom system, Mac had informed her, linking visitors at the gate to the house. No car could gain access to the drive unless someone in the house pressed the appropriate button. “I feel ridiculous. It’s going to look like something from Lifestyles of the Rich and Infamous. But after the fire last week, Mac didn’t leave me much choice.”

  Sarah frowned. “You had a fire on the porch?”

  Raine nodded. “Luckily for me, Mac was here. He helped put it out before too much damage was done.”

  Sarah’s concern was momentarily waylaid by her insatiable curiosity. “Mac was here? What was he doing here at night? Or need I ask?”

  Turning away from her friend’s inquisitive gaze, Raine crossed to the sectional and dropped down on it. “I had no car, remember? And never will have that particular car,” she added in an aside. “The insurance adjuster called yesterday, and it’s been totaled. So on top of everything else, I have to go car shopping.”

  “And?” Sarah prompted.

  Raine sighed. “Mac offered me a ride to André’s dinner that evening. We hadn’t been home long when a car roared up the driveway. The occupants threw some sort of bottle torches up on the porch and took off again.”

  “Someone did this on purpose?” Sarah seemed to sway a little before sinking weakly into a chair. “Did you at least get a good look, so you can identify them?”

  Shaking her head, Raine explained, “They wore ski masks.”

  “Raine, this is getting scary.” Sarah’s pretty face was full of worry. “I don’t know how you can stand this. First the letters, then the accident and now a fire. I would be a gibbering idiot by now if I was in your place. How do you bear staying here alone? Especially at night?”

  Hoping her cheeks reflected none of the heat she felt in them, Raine simply murmured, “I’ll be all right.” Darn it, she wasn’t good at lying, especially to her best friend. Aside from Mac’s instructions to keep his role here secret from her friends, she now had her own reasons for keeping the information to herself. Her relationship with Mac was too new and much too tenuous to share with anyone else, even someone as close to her as Sarah was. Especially since Raine was so uncertain just what the relationship entailed.

  Dubiously, her friend peered at her. “You don’t look all right. You’re flushed. And how come you’re not painting today? Has all this affected your work? I would be a nervous wreck with all that’s been going on.”

  “Actually,” Raine said brightly, glad for the subject change, “I happen to be finished. André was thrilled when I called and told him. As a matter of fact, I’m expecting him to come by today so we can discuss how we’re going to transport my paintings to the gallery next week.”

  Sarah looked stunned. “I don’t believe you.” She shook her head wryly. “You manage to complete all the paintings in spite of being terrorized for months, and I can’t work if I so much as get a hangnail. Sometime you’ll have to let me in on your secret.”

  “It’s a relief to know everything is ready,” Raine confided. “At least at my end. André can be pretty demanding, and if I was behind schedule at all he’d have me pulling my hair out. At least now it’s all in his hands.”

  “I’ll say it is,” Sarah replied. “I think I noted his fine hand in the articles that made the newspapers a few days ago. I was a little surprised he would play up the fact that you’d been threatened the way he did. At least, I assume he’s the one who told the journalists about that.”

  “You assume right,” Raine said dryly. “And I wasn’t pleased about the publicity, either. Mac was furious with him.”

  Sarah looked at her knowingly. “Mac, again, hmm? Funny how his name keeps cropping up. Are you sure there isn’t more here that you’d like to talk about?”

  Raine cursed her careless tongue. “I mean, after all the security measures he’s implemented around here, he thought it was pretty careless of André to make the threats public. He’s afraid it will attract the wrong kind of attention.”

  Sarah shrugged. “Well, it was typical André, I must say. I don’t envy your working with him. His fussiness would drive me crazy— although, I have to admit, he gets results. Actually, I may be looking for a new agent myself.”

  “You’re dropping Vanessa?” Raine was surprised. Vanessa Bancroft had represented Sarah for years. Raine had never heard Sarah express dissatisfaction with the woman’s work before.

  Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m thinking about it. I really didn’t do as well as I should have at my last exhibit. And she doesn’t market me as aggressively as André does you. I’d like for her to work more closely with Harold than she does. If she would keep after him I’m sure he’d sponsor another show for me soon.”

  “I didn’t realize you were ready for another exhibit.”

  Sarah got up and strolled to the window, peering outside. “Well, I could be if I had something to work toward. Anyway, I haven’t decided for sure whether to replace Vanessa. I’m just thinking out loud.”

  Raine mulled over Sarah’s words, troubled. She wondered if the real reason behind Sarah’s dissatisfaction was money. She seemed to have chronic financial problems, despite the fact that her sculptures were starting to command respectable prices. Raine suspected that Sarah handed over a great deal of money to her brother, who wasn’t too motivated to make any of his own.

  “Speaking of money—” Sarah spoke over her shoulder “—when was the last time you spoke to Greg?”

  “Sometime last week, I guess. He came over and I signed some papers. Why?”

  “Because I was in his office yesterday.” Greg was also Sarah’s accountant. “And he seemed very weird to me.”

  Raine smiled slightly. “He always seems weird to you.” Sarah lacked the patience to deal with the man’s shy eccentricities. But she’d always been pleased with his work.

  Turning to face her, Sarah continued, “No, I mean even weirder than usual. He was real distracted. I kept having to repeat myself, which was annoying. But then I happened to ask if he’d seen you, because I hadn’t talked to you last week, and he got . . .” She shrugged. “Very strange. He practically snapped my head off, which isn’t like him, and he didn’t want to talk about you at all, which is very
unlike him.” She cocked her head curiously. “Did you two have a fight or something?”

  Frowning, Raine shook her head. Darn it, until the craziness in the past few weeks, Greg had seemed okay about the two of them remaining only friends. She definitely was going to have to talk to him soon. However uncomfortable the scene might be, he was a dear friend of hers and she didn’t want a void to develop between them.

  She belatedly answered her friend. “We didn’t have a fight. But I think there might have been a misunderstanding. I’ll have to call him.”

  “You’d better,” Sarah agreed. “The poor man probably won’t be able to function until you do. Well.” She sighed, looking out the window one last time. “I’m beginning to lose hope that the men putting in that fence are ever going to take their shirts off. And if I don’t miss my guess, that’s André’s car coming up the drive. I guess I might as well go home and do something productive.”

  “Talking to me isn’t productive?” Raine teased as she walked her friend to the door.

  “Oh, very,” Sarah assured her. “But, unfortunately, it isn’t getting my latest sculpture done, so I’m going to take a lesson from you and get down to some serious work.”

  “I’ll call you,” Raine promised.

  “Hi, André.” Sarah greeted the man poised on the porch as she swept by him. “Bye, André.”

  André barely batted an eyelash at Sarah’s whirlwind departure. “I’m afraid I received some rather distressing news today, Raine,” he began without preamble.

  Immediately a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. It was obvious that something had unsettled him. His usual urbane manner seemed almost flustered, and Raine couldn’t remember ever seeing him in such a state.

  “What . . . what it is it?” Dread laced her words. “Is it another threat?”

  Belatedly André seemed aware of the effect his greeting had had on Raine. “No, nothing like that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you that way. Let’s go in and sit down. Together we can get this latest development ironed out.”

  Mac appeared in the doorway just as they’d both been seated. “Your mother’s on the line, Raine. Do you want to call her back or take it now?”

  She bit her lip, torn, then shook her head. “I’ll have to call her back.”

  But André disagreed. “No, go ahead and take the call, Raine. I seem to have upset you, and that was the last thing I meant to do.” He flicked his fingers dismissively. “As I said, we have something to discuss, but you and I will get it taken care of. Get your call out of the way first.”

  Raine hesitated, and then said, “All right, I’ll just be a minute. And then you can tell me the whole story.” She brushed by Mac, giving him a warning look. “Be nice,” she said in an undertone. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “So, O’Neill,” André said, as soon as Raine was out of earshot. “What a surprise it was to come here today and find your men back, working on yet another job for Raine.” He gave a thin smile. “It almost makes one think you keep busy finding new ways to spend her money.”

  Mac leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. “You don’t think her security is worth spending money on?”

  “Oh, of course. It’s also a situation you can milk for all it’s worth. A vulnerable woman living alone, one with a rich, overprotective father.” His tone was meaningful. “That must seem like a dream come true for a man like you.”

  “A man like me.” Mac’s voice was thoughtful. “And what kind of man would that be, Klassen?”

  “A very desperate man, perhaps. It seems rather odd the way you keep popping up in Raine’s life. Each time something happens to frighten her, coincidentally, you’re able to use the new incident to sell yet more security measures.”

  Mac clapped his hands slowly, sardonically. “Very good, Klassen,” he said in mock admiration. “The best defense is a good offense, right?”

  The man flushed. “It makes as much sense, I would say, as the accusation you leveled at me the last time we met.”

  “In your mind, maybe.” Mac gave a feral grin. “I’m a bit harder to convince.”

  Raine came in, interrupting the verbal duel. “I apologize again for the interruption, André.”

  The man switched his attention from Mac to her and inquired politely, “How is your mother, Raine? Her health is stable, I hope?”

  She nodded. “She’s doing fine. But I think you better tell me what happened to disturb you so.”

  He sighed. “Well, this morning I called the gallery I’d reserved for your showing to go over some details and was shocked to learn that they had a break-in last night. Nothing was taken, but there was quite a bit of broken glass and paint thrown all over. Naturally, with our exhibit coming up so rapidly, I’m concerned about how quickly the owner will be able to repair the damage. I’ve already begun checking with some other galleries in the area. Of course, at this late date, it would be difficult to reserve another. Not to mention the problem with the publicity and invitations.”

  “You’re saying the show may have to be postponed?” Mac asked.

  André looked horrified. “Certainly not! There is entirely too much riding on this particular exhibit for us to postpone it. I’m afraid our only hope lies in the owner making the gallery presentable by the time we need it. You can be sure that I’ll be in constant contact with him in the time remaining.”

  Raine was certain that he would. If nothing else, the owner of the gallery would make sure it was ready just to get André off his back.

  “I’m still worried about security measures at that gallery, however,” André fretted. “After all, what would have stopped those vandals from breaking in and doing all sorts of damage to any works inside? Or stealing them completely? I just wish there was time to find another reputable gallery.”

  “Did you talk to the owner about security measures?” Mac asked.

  “He assured me, of course, that they had adequate protection. He seemed to think his alarm system and the quick response of the police saved the place from a looting. But I’m not completely convinced. At any rate,” he said, switching his attention to Raine, “we’ll follow the same procedure as always when it comes to transporting your works. You’ll supervise the actual loading, of course. We’ll probably be pressed for time due to the amount of work the gallery will be having done. So if you can have everything ready to go at a moment’s notice, that will be a big help.”

  Raine agreed. After going over several more points with him, she saw him to the door. Mac hadn’t moved from his position in the doorway, stepping aside only to let them pass. When she had bid goodbye to her agent, she came to stand before him.

  “Okay, let’s have it.”

  He looked at her silently.

  “C’mon, Macauley, I know you well enough by now to know that something is bothering you. So out with it.”

  He surveyed her lazily. “Think you know me pretty well?”

  She took a step closer, and her hair brushed his mouth as she turned her head up to his. “I’m beginning to.”

  He dropped a quick, hard kiss on her lips, then led her to the couch. “I don’t particularly like coincidences. The very gallery that you had reserved for your showing got hit last night, only days before your exhibit.”

  “I know,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to seem paranoid, but I couldn’t help wondering. Your suspicious nature is starting to rub off, I’m afraid. But if the vandals had really wanted to target me, why didn’t they wait until my paintings were there? Why hit the gallery now?”

  “To keep your exhibit from taking place?” he suggested.

  “But that doesn’t make sense,” she argued. “Up to this point everything has been designed to frighten me.”

  “Or to hurt you,” he reminded her quietly. “Hurting your career is another way to get at you.”

  “Maybe.” She bounced up restlessly and roamed around the room. “It’s hard to predict what’s going to happen next. It certainly never occurr
ed to me that the gallery could be a target.”

  “I’m going to call Detective Ramirez and inform him of the break-in. We’re going to assume, for now, that it’s connected with you somehow. I wanted to talk to him and see if he’s come up with anything lately, anyway.” He thought for a moment, then added, “To be on the safe side, I don’t want you delivering the pictures the way you usually do with André. It seems to me, if someone wants to stop your showing, the next logical step would be to make sure your paintings never reached the gallery.”

  “But someone would have to be very familiar with my arrangements to know when and how we would be loading,” Raine argued.

  “Whoever is behind this knew what gallery was hosting your exhibit,” he reminded her.

  “That information has been in the papers, Macauley. The way I transport my pictures hasn’t.”

  “You’d be surprised how easy some information is to get, if you ask the right questions. Let’s just be cautious, shall we?”

  She rubbed her forehead tiredly. He was right, as usual. “What did you have in mind?”

  “We’ve got a van at the office that can be used to carry your pictures to the gallery. You can supervise the loading and tell me how it can be done without damaging anything.”

  She nodded slowly. “All right.” A permanent chill seemed to be settling inside her. She wondered how much longer they could be expected to fight an unknown harasser, trying to predict his next move and counteracting it. It was as exhausting as it was scary. The incredible irony of it was she couldn’t even look forward to the end of the threats. Because that would be when Macauley would walk out of her life forever.

  # # # #

  Once Raine was occupied in another part of the house, Mac took the opportunity to phone Ramirez. When questioned, the detective admitted that they hadn’t found any leads on the person responsible for firebombing Raine’s porch.

  “I was going to give her a call, though,” Ramirez told him. “The postal investigator has pinpointed the general locale in which the last letter originated.”