You are Mine

by Lisa G Riley

  “Wait,” Tracy interrupted as she held up a hand. “Protect Brian? You?”

  Caroline sighed in frustration. She’d had this same argument with Brian. He insisted on treating her as if she would break, while ignoring the fact that he was also in danger. He wanted to make it all about her. “Yes, I want to protect Brian. Why is that so surprising to everyone? I love him just as much as he loves me, and this is not the Victorian era, so I should be able to express that without people going into shock. I want him safe and sound just as much as he wants me out of harm’s way. If our situations were reversed, don’t you think you’d feel the same way regarding Jack?”

  Tracy nodded slowly. “Yes, I guess I would. But I never really thought of Brian as needing protection. I mean, Brian is a former cop, and Brickman wants you.”

  “Exactly,” Caroline agreed, “and he’s already shown that he’d do just about anything to get to me.” She paused for effect. “Including kidnap you and Jack.” She watched the light dawn in her friend’s eyes, and dipped her head in satisfaction. “See? Though I’m the focus of his madness, it isn’t just about me, and that’s why I stopped fighting Brian about a bodyguard. I wanted him safe, too.”

  “Is that’s why Jae basically lives with you guys?”

  “Yes, that was part of the deal. I told Brian that Jae has to spend the night for added protection. He only wanted him here during the day, figuring that he himself would be enough to protect me at night when he’s home.”

  “But you beg to differ, I take it.”

  Caroline shook her head quickly. “No, not exactly. My main concern is Brian. You know as well as I do that that wonderful idiot of mine would throw himself in front of a speeding train if he thought it would save me.”

  “Ah, now I get it. Hence, Jae at night.”

  Caroline inclined her head. “Hence, Jae at night.”

  “Bet that didn’t sit too well with the hubby, did it?”

  Caroline sniffed indignantly and finished her tea. “Of course not. He sees himself as the big, strong man and me as the weak, little woman. Him Tarzan, me Jane. ”

  A teasing glint in her eye, Tracy cocked her head and playfully looked Caroline over. “Well, you can’t blame the guy. You are really skinny and kinda fragile-looking. What are you? About ninety pounds?”

  “You’re about thirty to thirty-five pounds off there, slick,” Caroline said calmly, not rising to the bait.

  “That’s still not much for someone who stands five feet nine inches tall and is pregnant.”

  Caroline shrugged. She’d always had a thin frame. She knew she was healthy, and that was all that mattered. “It is what it is. And mock me all you want, but he will be protected.”

  “Oh, I’m not mocking you,” Tracy assured her. “I honestly do understand how you feel about it; it just never occurred to me that he would need protecting as well, that’s all. What about during the day when he’s not here?”

  Caroline grimaced. “Couldn’t quite manage that one, but at any rate, I’m not as worried for him during the day. His defenses are always up and he’s constantly on the lookout. And besides, he works from home most of the time because he’s not really confident that anyone can do the job as well as he can, so he’s put himself in a trap of his own making and he gets the benefit of Jae’s expertise almost as much as I do.”

  “Right, makes sense, and I agree: he is a wonderful idiot, adorable even. I’m glad the two of you found each other because for a minute there I thought you’d end up old and alone because of your past experiences.”

  “Past experiences? What past experiences?”

  “The whole ‘I can’t be sure if he wants me for me or for my ice cream money’ worry that plagued you whenever you were in a new relationship.”

  Chuckling at her friend’s choice of words for the fortune her parents had made with their proprietary ice cream recipes, Caroline shook her head. “You’re a funny woman, Tracy, and that was long ago, before Brian, who knew nothing about me or the family’s money when we first met. But if you want to talk about past experiences and how they affect our behaviors today, let’s do. Are you thinking of running out on Jack?”

  “No! Never!” Tracy objected vehemently.

  “Are you sure?” Caroline asked hesitantly and then, hurriedly when Tracy gave her a look of astonishment, “I mean because I know how skittish you can be because of the way your parents treated you.”

  Tracy relaxed back in her chair with a worried frown. “I love Jack more than I’ve loved anyone before, and I know he loves me, too, but I’m afraid it won’t last.”

  “That’s a chance you take, Trace, but don’t go into it looking forward to failure. That’s just stupid.”

  Tracy looked startled and said, “Well, when did you get so blunt? You’re supposed to reassure me that everything will be all right if I just work at it and keep the faith --”

  “If you know that already, why should I have to take the time to say it? Again?”

  “Geez, Caroline. Whatever happened to your never ending patience and understanding? The baby take it all?”

  Caroline shook her head, and in a serious tone, said, “After everything I’ve been through the past couple of years, I just realize that life is way too short to be pussyfooting around or hemming and hawing. You love Jack, Jack loves you. You trust him, he trusts you. You’ve just got to go with instinct and marry him, or not. I don’t think there’s anything more to say on the issue.”

  Sighing, Tracy dropped her head to the table. “You’re right, of course, and we’ve discussed my issue ad nauseam already. I’m just a chicken.”

  Caroline reached over and patted her head sympathetically. “Bawk. Bawk.”

  HUMMING off-key to Beethoven’s Fur Elise which was trilling gently from the wall speakers in her home studio, Caroline sank her fingers into the clay head in front of her and began to smooth the area around the right ear she’d constructed a few minutes before. “Just a little too big,” she murmured. She picked a small modeling tool from a selection of six on the table and fingered its slim wooden body until she had it positioned just the way she wanted it. The tiny single inverted wire triangle at each end of the tool made it easy to scrape away clay and fine tune detail in tight spaces.

  Tongue caught between her teeth, she used the smaller end of the tool to get rid of excess clay in the fold of the inner ear. “Perfect,” she said with satisfaction when she leaned away from the sculpture to get a better look. After Tracy had gone, she’d gotten an urge to create. She’d been sitting thinking about the future and massaging her belly when inspiration had struck. As usual the urge to create came on her suddenly and quickly became impossible to ignore, so within five minutes of Tracy’s leaving, she was dressed in old jeans and a T-shirt and in the studio with her hands wrist deep in fresh clay.

  Her gaze went to a framed photo on the credenza in which she stored art supplies. Studying it intently for a moment, she began shaping the nose of the sculpture.

  “Mrs. Singleton-Keenan.”

  Caroline didn’t look up from her work, instead only saying distractedly, “Yes, Jae?”

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wondered if you’d mind my taking over the kitchen again tonight and trying out a recipe.”

  This did make Caroline look over at him. She was only a fair cook herself, and Brian was helpless at any recipe that took more than water and a pot. Always something of a foodie, she had become even more appreciative of good food since finding out she was pregnant. “Oh, my, no, Jae; of course not! You know how much Brian and I love your culinary masterpieces. You’re as much an artist as I am with all of your delicious creations. What will it be tonight, hmm? Something certain to be almost too good to look at, let alone to actually eat, I’m sure.”

  “You flatter me, but I’m glad you and Mr. Keenan enjoy my efforts.”

  “Enjoy?” Caroline scoffed with amusement. “What’s that? A new euphemism for greedy?” Pleased to see a brief flash of his smile
-- a rarity -- she continued, “Because you know very well that’s the only way to describe Brian and me when we sit down to one of your meals.”

  His smile gone, Jae inclined his head.

  “What’s on the menu tonight?”

  He cleared his throat. “I thought roasted pork loin, baby greens and Potatoes Dauphinoise.”

  “Double cream and garlic; yum.” Curiosity sparked in his eyes and was quickly gone, but she explained anyway, “French immersion courses in school, several trips to France and good French restaurants.”

  “So, it’s all right, then?”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she assured him and watched as he melted from the room. She shook her head before going back to her sculpture. A bodyguard who has the dexterity of a Ninja and the culinary talents of a gourmet chef. “Clearly my life has veered off into the realm of the unbelievable.”

  AN hour later, Brian walked into the kitchen and was greeted excitedly by their dog, Motley, a German shepherd-collie mix. He reached down to rub the dog’s head vigorously. “Hi, girl! Hi.” He looked over toward the stove. “Hi, Jae. I was drawn here by the smells, and thought maybe I’d find Caroline.” He walked over to the sink and washed his hands and then went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of beer.

  “Good evening, Mr. Keenan. She’s in her studio.”

  Brian loosened his tie, took it off and put it in his pocket. Leaning against the counter, he took a sip from the beer. From his vantage point, he studied the large kitchen. They’d only been in the new house for five months, and though they’d shopped together to decorate the place, most of the choices were Caroline’s. He marveled at some of her choices, but bowed to her better judgment. He’d at first objected to the custom built stove that had taken two months for delivery, but now he’d grown fond of it. A cocoa brown, it had the look of a treasure chest with all of its brass and stainless steel trimmings and knobs. He watched as Jae took a dish from the vaulted oven and then promptly opened the warming oven next to it and placed the dish in there.

  The other man then bent and opened one of the two long storage drawers that marched across the bottom of the stove. “So you’re on cooking duty tonight, huh, Jae?”

  “It’s not exactly a duty, Mr. Keenan. I enjoy it, and since Mrs. Singleton-Keenan showed all the signs of getting caught up in her work again, I thought I’d make a dish I’ve wanted to try for some time now.”

  Brian nodded. “Tell me something, Jae, in the six months that you’ve been with us, how many times, give or take, have my wife and I asked you to call us by our first names?”

  Jae looked amused. “Oh, I’d say about fifty or sixty, give or take.”

  Brian nodded again and opening the fridge, pulled out another long neck and walked it over to the other man. He handed it to him. “And what would you say are the chances of you taking us up on that offer?”

  Jae nodded his thanks, and looking thoughtful, twisted the cap off, walked over to the trash, threw it away and came back to stand in front of Brian who was now leaning against the center island. “Oh, I’d say not very likely.”

  “Yet, you insist upon us calling you Jae and not Mr. Kwon.”

  Smiling slightly, Jae shrugged while holding his hands up helplessly. “What are you gonna do?”

  Amused, Brian chuckled and then, “But seriously, you don’t feel awkward practically living with us and being so formal?”

  “It’s important to keep distance so I’ll be able to do my job if and when the time comes.”

  Brian gave up. “Fine, well at least you don’t mind sitting and breaking bread with us.”

  “Actually, I do, but your wife,” he paused and then shrugged. “Well, she told me my eating alone upset her, and since she’s pregnant and all, well…” He trailed off with an abashed look.

  “But you were eating with us before we found out about the pregnancy,” Brian reminded him. Jae only knew about the pregnancy because the day they’d found out, Brian had run through the house carrying Caroline in his arms and yelling, ‘I’m gonna be a daddy!’

  Looking embarrassed again, Jae only said, “She’s just so…so…hard to say no to, I guess, and I don’t like upsetting women, particularly those who look so delicate, as your wife does.”

  Brian laughed and finished his beer. “No comment. I assume you have nothing to report today, or else I would have heard from you or Caroline by now.”

  “All quiet on the Western front.”

  “Good. How long before dinner?”

  “About another forty-five minutes.”

  “Thanks,” Brian said and placing his bottle into a recycling bin, left the kitchen. He passed the butler’s pantry, walked through the dining room and made a left away from the living room and walked underneath the twisting, floating staircase. The long hall lead him to a large, bright room that traditionally would be used as a den or family room, but because it got a lot of sun, they’d set it up as Caroline’s studio.

  He walked in and shut the door behind him. Halfway into the room, he stopped and watched her. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she was on her feet and leaning in towards what at best looked like a nascent being. Her hair was in a sloppy topknot and her arms and feet were bare. Streaks of clay were on her face, arms and clothes. Looking at the sculpture, she cocked her head one way and then the other and put her hand on her chin and tapped her nose with her index finger, adding more clay to her face in the process. He found her unbearably sexy this way: all mussed and focused.

  Brian knew he was acting like a lovesick fool and didn’t care. His attraction to her had been instantaneous two years before when he’d bumped into her as he was exiting an elevator, and the intensity of that attraction had not lessened at all since. She was tall, lean and dark with a shy smile and bottomless chocolate brown eyes that were a few shades darker than her silky skin.

  His gaze had met those eyes back then and there had been an immediate visceral knowledge that she was his, and belonged only to him. He’d questioned this knowledge briefly, but he’d been trying so hard to get next to her in any way he could that the questioning phase had barely flickered before it had died an unceremonious death. His want of her went beyond intimacy and was accompanied by an urge that had outpaced every other desire he’d ever had. Two years later he suspected it would be that way until he shook off his mortal coil, and he was perfectly fine with that.

  He watched as she took a towel and began to wipe her hands. She was finishing up for the evening. Heat infused his body and his eyes narrowed against its intensity.

  “Sweetheart.” He was aware his voice had gone gravelly with yearning, but he couldn’t help that.

  She looked up and smiled that smile he loved so much -- the one that somehow made her entire face light up. The pleasure that filled her eyes and then her voice when she greeted him, as always, made him feel like he was the most amazing being the world had ever produced. “Hi, honey. Gosh! What time is it? Are you early or am I late?”

  She focused her attention on her work again, and Brian continued his path into the room until he was standing behind her. His hands went to her shoulders where he began to massage, making her moan in pleasure and lean back against him. “Neither. We’re both right on time,” he said and pressed a lingering kiss on her temple…her ear…her neck. She granted him better access when she let her head fall to the side, and he took it, biting down gently and then sucking on the skin.

  She shivered. “Dare I ask?” she murmured teasingly. “Yes, I think I should,” she continued huskily when he didn’t answer, but instead slipped one of his hands under her shirt to cup her breast. “On time for what?”

  Brian bit and licked some more. “On time for me to make love to my wife,” he growled between more kisses to her neck, and had the pleasure of feeling her tremor again. “Now kiss me back.”

  She turned in his arms and offered up her mouth, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was filled with heat and so was instantly carnal. “Mmm, I love it
when you’re so masterful,” she purred against his mouth.

  Brian chuckled and bit her bottom lip while his hands got busy under her shirt. “Miss me today?” he asked as he unclasped her bra so that her small breasts filled his hands.

  With eyes closed and head thrown back, Caroline was too busy moaning to answer him at first. “Of course I did. Always,” she gasped right before pressing her mouth to his.

  Brian kissed her back, his tongue taking a thorough path through her mouth. “I missed you, too, baby,” he murmured between hard breaths as he intermittently kneaded her breasts and tweaked her nipples. “Much too much.”

  “You’ll get…ahh…clay all over...oh, God...ahh…your suit,” she warned breathily when he slid one of his thighs between the two of hers.

  “The drycleaner will get it out like he always does,” Brian said right before he peeled off her shirt. Pushing the bra aside, he bent his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth, making her dig her fingers into his skin as he bent her over his arm. Brian closed his eyes to relish the taste of her, his blood singing hotly and urgently as he took his fill. He could not and would not ever get enough of her, he knew, and greedily switched to her other breast, his hands going to her waist to grip her tighter and bring her closer to his mouth. She squirmed against him and using his shoulders as leverage, lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

  He felt the heat of her through her jeans and groaned. With a sweep of his arm, he cleared a spot on the table and laid her on it.

  “Brian…the sculpture.” He heard her protestation, even as he felt her trying to push his jacket off his shoulders.

  “We’re nowhere near it,” he promised huskily as he lifted himself to remove his jacket, shirt and T-shirt himself. He looked down at her nakedness and with effort, resisted the urge to bay at the moon. Her hands were on his belt now and she suddenly smiled with amusement. Unable to help himself, he kissed her again and took his lips from her mouth to her chin, and finally her neck, causing her to moan and lift her chin and stretch her head back. “What was the smile for?” he asked as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck.