“And you’re one smooth liar, Gavin Faulkner.”
Without warning, his expression changed, becoming hard, derisive. “Did you call your late fiancé a liar when he said you were beautiful?”
“You heartless SOB!”
Celia’s right hand swung up in an arc, stopping in midair when Gavin’s fingers snaked around her wrist. Her free hand came up and within seconds she found herself prisoner to Gavin’s superior strength. He hadn’t hurt her, but she was unable to escape the fingers doubling as manacles.
“And you’re a selfish, spoiled brat, Celia,” Gavin countered. “You’ve come to the middle of nowhere to wallow in grief when you should be rejoicing that your life was spared, that your parents didn’t have to bury a child like so many parents are doing nowadays because of senseless gang violence. You feel guilty because the man you’d planned to marry felt the need to try and control not only your life, but also his own and in the end he lost everything.
“Then, there’s the fear. You fear letting go of your past so you can embrace your future. Have you thought maybe there’s a reason why you didn’t die with the others? That perhaps you were spared because as a healer there is someone out there waiting for you to help save their life? You talk about outrage. Just who are you angry with?”
“The little shit who has such a wanton disrespect for life that he thought nothing of shooting up an emergency room!”
Gavin smiled for the first time since he’d begun his angry outburst. “Now you’re talking, baby. Hold on to that rage because it will be your testimony that will ensure that little punk will never see the light of day for the rest of his life.”
“I intend to do that. And for you edification—I’m neither spoiled nor a brat.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized.
Celia lowered her gaze. “I’ll have to think about accepting your apology.”
“What’s there to think about, Celia?” Gavin cupped her chin, raising her face to meet his eyes. “Maybe I should’ve called you a sexy nerd.”
She flashed a dimpled smile. “At one time I was a nerd.”
“What about now?”
Her smile grew wider. “I’m a free spirit in training.” A moment passed. “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry I called you heartless.”
“I think the slur was a heartless SOB.”
“That, too,” she added.
“Are you really sorry?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Show me, Celia.” His voice had lowered at the same time he stared at her chest.
Looping her arms under his shoulders, Celia pressed her breasts to his chest and brushed her mouth over his. She placed gentle kisses at the corners, then pulled his upper lip between her teeth before giving the lower one equal attention.
Gavin claimed the sexiest mouth of any man she’d ever seen. His top lip was firm, but it was the lower, slightly petulant and incredibly sexy lip that drew her rapt attention. Their tongues met, parried, engaging in a dance of desire. Celia’s tongue simulated her making love to Gavin, her hips following suit.
His hands sliding down her denim-covered thighs, Gavin anchored his hands under Celia’s knees as he rose to meet her thrusting hips. He’d hardened so quickly he feared passing out. He couldn’t believe he was sitting on a chair in Celia’s kitchen and she was giving him a lap dance.
Gavin closed his eyes rather than stare at the rush of excitement darkening Celia’s face, her moist parted lips, heaving breasts, fluttering lashes and warmth and sensual scent of her perfumed body. She quickened her movements, both gasping at the same time to tamp down on the rising ecstasy threatening to erupt. He opened his eyes, going completely still when he heard it. Celia also froze. She’d heard it, too. Someone had rung the doorbell.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Gavin didn’t recognize his own voice.
Celia shook her head. “No. My neighbor always calls before coming over.” The doorbell chimed again. “I better go and answer it.”
Gavin held on to her upper arm when she scrambled off his lap. “You’re not going anywhere until you put your shirt on.” He stood up. “I’ll answer the door.”
“No, Gavin!”
He turned to glare at her. “Have you forgotten I’ve promised to protect you? Now, please get dressed before whoever is on the other side of that door will draw their own conclusions as to what we’ve been doing.” Turning on his heels, Gavin walked across the kitchen.
“We weren’t having sex,” Celia called out to his broad back.
“You’re right about that,” he confirmed, not breaking stride. “We were making love.”
Gavin continued to tell himself that what he and Celia had shared was lovemaking when they weren’t in love with each other. He liked her, wanted to sleep with her, but falling in love with her was not an option.
He peered through the security eye to see a man staring back at him. “Who is it?”
“Nicholas Cole-Thomas. Is my sister here?”
He opened the door. Even if the tall man hadn’t identified himself, Gavin would’ve recognized him as Celia’s brother. They had the same coloring, hair texture and delicate features. He peered over Nicholas’s shoulder to find a late-model Lincoln sedan parked behind the Yukon.
“Please come in.”
“Nicky! What on earth are you doing here?”
Gavin turned to see Celia standing in the middle of the living room, both hands resting at her waist. She’d put back on her top. She looked like a woman who’d just been made love to, and he wondered if her brother would notice the heightened color in her cheeks or her lush mouth.
Nicholas took off a yellow slicker, hanging it on a coatrack in the corner of the entry. Bending over, he removed his boots, leaving them on the mat with Gavin’s. Minute lines fanned out around a pair of large black eyes that had spent too much time squinting in the sun. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Arms outstretched, Celia closed the distance between her and her younger brother. “Well, you did.” She kissed his smooth cheek when he lifted her off her feet. “What are you doing so far from home?”
Nicholas, mindful of the injury that had almost cost his sister her life, cradled her gently to his chest. “I was in Louisville on business, but decided to make a detour on the way back to the farm.” He pressed his mouth to Celia’s ear. “Who’s the linebacker?” he whispered for her ears only.
Celia pushed against Nicholas’s shoulder. “Please put me down.” Reaching for his hand, she smiled at Gavin. “Nicholas, this is my friend, Gavin Faulkner. Gavin, Nicholas.” The two men shook hands while exchanging perfunctory greetings. “Nicky is the brother who owns a horse farm in Virginia.”
Gavin took in everything about the younger man in one sweeping glance. He was several inches taller than six-feet and lean with curly black hair, dark skin and equally dark penetrating eyes that missed nothing. Gavin could almost hear him thinking—who the hell are you, and what are you doing with my sister?
“Thoroughbreds?” he asked. Nicholas nodded. “Beautiful animals.”
“Yes, they are,” Nicholas confirmed.
Celia noticed the strained tension between the two men. Looping her arm through her brother’s, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Gavin and I just finished eating. Can I get you something?” What she couldn’t reveal to Nicholas was he’d interrupted her giving Gavin a lap dance.
“I’ll have café con leche, thank you.” Nicholas hadn’t taken his gaze off Gavin. “How do you know my sister?”
Gavin forced back a smile. It’d taken Nicholas Cole-Thomas less than two minutes after being introduced to ask the question. “You’ll have to ask her.”
Nicholas’s eyebrows shot up. “Cee Cee?”
“Nicky! Must you always be so gauche?”
“Just answer the question.” Nicholas’s southern drawl had become more pronounced as he struggled to control his temper. “I decide to drop in to visit my sister, only to find her with a man who—”
Nicholas’s gaze shifted from his sister to Gavin, and then back again. “You hired him?”
Celia released her brother’s arm and walked over to stand next to Gavin. “Yes, I did. I realized what you and Diego were up to when he said you wanted me to stay at the farm.” Her eyes narrowed. “You know I’m afraid of horses, Nicky, so why would you suggest I come to a horse farm? Once I decided to leave Miami I contacted an agency that provides personal protection. Gavin was available, so you can tell the others that I’m quite safe.”
“If you want to have me checked out, then I’ll give you the name and number of the company who contracts my services,” Gavin volunteered.
The skin over Nicholas’s high cheekbones tightened when he clenched his teeth. “I’ll be certain to have you checked out. Where did you get your training?”
Folding muscular arms over his chest, Gavin gave the brash young man a sardonic smile. “Ranger School.”
Nicholas smiled for the first time. “You were military?”
Gavin returned the smile. “75th Ranger Regiment,” he said proudly. “What about you?”
“I broke family tradition when I went to the Naval Academy. After graduation, I had to decide whether to go to flight school or spend time on the water.”
“I’m willing to bet you chose the water.”
“That’s right!” Nicholas confirmed with a wide grin. “However, I wound up under the water instead of on a battleship or carrier. Spending months at a time on the bottom of the ocean tested my sanity and resolve.”
Celia exhaled a breath. If Gavin and Nicholas were both ex-military, then she knew they would go on for hours. “Why don’t the two of you go and hang out on the back porch? Nicky, I’ll bring you your coffee. By the way, are you in a rush to get back home?”
Nicholas angled his head. “What’s up, Cee Cee?”
A soft smile touched her mouth. “I’d like you to judge a food competition.”
The former Naval officer-turned-horse-breeder’s gaze shifted from his sister to the man she’d hired to protect her. “What am I judging?”
Gavin inclined his head in deference to Celia. “Tell him, Cee Cee.”
Celia glared at Gavin. Her brothers knew she detested the annoying nickname. She explained the details of the competition, with pork as the main ingredient. “You will have the responsibility of judging which dish you like best.”
“I can tell you now that I’m partial to roast and pulled pork, so I’m not going to be much of a judge.” Nicholas sniffed the air. “I can tell you now that whatever is cooking smells incredible.”
Gavin flashed a Cheshire-cat grin. “That’s my pulled pork.”
“You’re all right, Brother Faulkner,” Nicholas crooned.
“Why, thank you, Brother Thomas,” Gavin said, winking at Celia. “Do you need help in the kitchen, Celia?”
She glared at him. “No, brother.” Turning on her heels, she retreated to the kitchen while her brother and bodyguard walked in the direction of the enclosed back porch.
She’d lived in the house a year before deciding to enclose the porch so she’d be able to utilize the space year-round. A contractor had installed pocket doors and built-in bookcases along one wall. There was also a retractable awning which shielded the porch from the intense summer when converted to a loggia for outdoor dining.
Celia looked forward to beginning and ending her days on the porch with stunning vistas of mountains, verdant valleys and waterfalls as a panoramic backdrop. Although she’d hiked a few trails in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, she could never convince Yale to join her. He’d said his fair coloring was a deterrent to prolonged outdoor activity. She intended to ask former Army Ranger Gavin Faulkner to go hiking, fishing and white-water rafting with her, and if he refused, then Celia would never let him live it down.
Picking up the remote, Gavin turned on the large, flat-screen television mounted on a far wall, tuned to ESPN and raised the volume. It was his turn to put Nicholas Cole-Thomas on the defensive when he asked, “Did you stop by just to visit your sister, or is she in real danger?”
Nicholas took a sip from a mug filled with warm milk, coffee and sugar, peering at Gavin Faulkner over the rim. “Someone broke into her home despite it being wired. By the time the police got there they were gone. Footage from surveillance video showed a landscaping truck in the driveway. When the police enhanced the image they discovered the plate was stolen and the company doesn’t exist.”
“Does she live in a gated community?” Gavin asked.
Nicholas took another sip of the coffee-infused sweetened beverage. He’d come to western North Carolina to try to convince his sister to return to Virginia with him until it was time for her to testify. He was prepared for a volatile confrontation, and had been given a direct order from his father not to leave North Carolina without her.
When the police contacted Timothy Cole-Thomas to inform him that his daughter’s house had been burglarized, it was the only time in his life that Nicholas heard his father spew expletives he hadn’t known existed. Once Timothy regained his composure, he ordered his son to go and bring his daughter back or he’d have her abducted and forcibly returned to Florida.
“No,” Nicholas replied. “But there is a private road leading to the house.”
Gavin rested his elbows on his knees. “How close is her nearest neighbor?”
“The houses are set on half-acre lots, facing the ocean. My dad installed more cameras and armed guards monitor the property around the clock.”
“Who knows Celia’s staying here?”
“Just the family.”
“How about her coworkers?”
Nicholas shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. She’s been away from the hospital since last July, so I’m not aware if she’s been in contact with anyone there. Maybe that’s something you can ask her.”
Gavin laced his fingers together. “Are you going to tell her about the break-in?”
“I was before you told me she’d hired you to protect her.”
“I’m not going to let anything or anyone harm her,” Gavin stated solemnly.
Nicholas forced a smile he didn’t feel. “I believe you. I lied to Celia when I told her I was in Kentucky on business. My father’s orders are to close up this place and take her to Virginia. Cole-Thom Farms is a fortress. Every inch of the property is wired and patrolled. No one can enter or leave without detection, and signs are posted around the perimeter stating: Trespassers Will Be Shot on Sight and If Still Alive, Then Prosecuted.”
Gavin suddenly had a newfound respect for Celia’s brother. Under Nicholas Cole-Thomas’s almost too-pretty masculine face was a man who would go to great lengths to protect his sister. He’d promised Celia he would protect her without regard to why he was in western North Carolina, and had given her brother the same assurance.
He’d received orders to hold his position and wait for Raymond Prentice to contact him; however, Gavin had no idea whether the undercover special agent would contact him the next day, week or month. “I’ve agreed to protect Celia because a client postponed an overseas business trip until late summer,” he lied smoothly. “But if his plans change and he decides to leave sooner, then I’ll arrange for a replacement.” He made a mental note to call his cousins to have a protection expert on standby.
Nicholas placed the mug on a side table. “I’d like to ask a favor of you.”
“What is it?”
“Can you bring her to the farm? She doesn’t have to know she’s not coming back here.”
Vertical lines appeared between Gavin’s eyes. “Why the subterfuge? Why can’t I just tell her where she’s going?”
Stretching long legs out in front of him, Nicholas crossed his feet at the ankles. “My sister was thrown and kicked by a horse—no, I take that back. She was kicked by a pony, so she has an
aversion to beings of the equine persuasion regardless of their size. So, to suggest she come and spend any extended time with me is not going to sit too well with her. I’ve had to remind my parents that Celia is an adult and therefore she can’t be forced to do anything she doesn’t want to do. All I can do is talk to her, and hopefully she’ll understand where the family is coming from.”
Gavin pulled his lip between his teeth as he pondered an alternative to get Celia to Virginia if or when his orders changed. “How long are you staying in North Carolina?”
“I’d like to be home before tomorrow evening. Why?”
“Leave everything to me,” he whispered like a coconspirator.
“What are you two whispering about?”
Nicholas and Gavin turned to find Celia standing in the doorway to the porch. “Nothing,” they said in unison, while coming to their feet.
Celia rolled her eyes. “Please sit down. It may sound rather clichéd, but you two look like a couple of kids caught with your hands in the cookie jar.” She walked in, and sat on an off-white love seat with colorful floral throw pillows. “How long can you hang out with me?” Celia asked her brother.
He ran a hand over his curly hair. “I can spend the night.”
Kicking off her shoes, Celia pulled her legs up under her body. “I’d hoped you’d stay longer. We don’t get to see each other that often.”
“It’s not as if I haven’t invited you to come and hang out with me, Cee Cee.”
Gavin gave Nicholas a surreptitious glance. “I’ve never been to a horse farm.”
“Why don’t you come with my sister?” Nicholas asked, quickly picking up on Gavin’s cue.
Gavin raised his eyebrows questioningly at Celia. “How about it?”
“I’m afraid of horses,” she mumbled, pushing out her lower lip.
Pushing to his feet, Gavin sat next to her. He rested a hand over her sock-covered feet. “It’s not about riding, Celia. I just want the experience of seeing a horse farm up close and personal.”
“Do you ride?”
Gavin gave her a tender smile. “No.” He didn’t want to tell her that he’d taken pony rides as a boy at county fairs. Pony and roller-coaster rides, along with the shooting gallery, were his favorite attractions.
Breakaway Page 8
