“Harassment?” Barcuda swayed his pointer finger in denial. It was long. Like those scary movie vampires. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? Your brother is a very confrontational man.”
“You were trying to take away something that belongs to him. Of course he was confrontational.” Emily wished her voice didn’t curl up into an anxious peal at the end of each sentence. She also wanted to swipe that staid smile off Barcuda’s narrow lips.
“That design, Miss Brennan is an example of the talent we hoped to procure from your brother. I am willing to overlook the obvious issues the young man has in return for the plans that were designed on NMD property.”
Emily’s fist emerged from her pocket, and to her horror she thrust it forward in defiance. “He worked on that at home. He doesn’t ever sleep, maybe a nap here and there, but things, things like that design, that’s how he occupies himself through the night.”
Barcuda’s leer grew and his fingers uncurled to grip the edge of the desk. “Maybe he should find himself a woman then.”
The way he said that gave Emily a sick feeling in her stomach as she took an involuntary step backwards when he rose from behind the desk. Perhaps it was a reflection of the luminous aquarium against his glasses, but George Barcuda’s eyes looked like the lethal black orbs of a shark. She expected them to flip back up into his head just before he moved in for the kill.
“Again,” Emily cleared her throat and this time, held her ground. “What my brother does in his free time is his personal business. If he designs the next galaxy shuttle on his lunch break, then that is his concern.”
“But Miss Brennan, that’s exactly what he has done. He has shown the inadequacies of our present technology. His simple ‘doodles’ have crafted a vessel that can operate under miles of ice. His design picks up where predecessors, we included, have failed. When NASA scrapped the project to explore the ocean of Jupiter’s moon, we picked up the assignment. We were rejected as not being able to handle the amount of energy required to melt such an abundance of ice. We also failed because of the likelihood of corrosion, not knowing how much salt existed in Europa’s crust. But there are private ventures out there that are determined there is life on Europa—private ventures with a lot of money to invest. They heard of your brother’s vessel and are willing to pay exorbitantly for its construction.”
Maniacal delight made perspiration surface on his high forehead. “How could you keep that knowledge from the world?”
“Easily.” Only briefly had she reviewed the CAD drawings on Colin’s computer, and her field of expertise did not extend to propulsion systems or hull tolerance, but Colin explained in his analytical tone the exact faults in his hypothetical design.
Looking into eyes brimming with avarice, would Barcuda have been dissuaded if he had proof that this vessel would fail?
“Because it’s not real.” She explained. “Maybe the pictures look convincing enough to you, perhaps they can even fool a few engineers, but if a craft like that were ever structured it would fail in the field, for some of the same reasons you have just pointed out.”
“Oh, I have no doubt it needs some tweaking. That’s what I explained to your brother when he stubbornly refused to let me have the mechanical drawings.” A scowl drew the black hairline down closer to his eyes. “Miss Brennan, let’s skirt around all this, for lack of a better word, bullshit, and get to the point. I really don’t give a damn where he designed it or if it’s structurally sound or not. I want it. Do you understand?”
Oh, she understood all right. Up until this moment she had been able to handle any of the quandaries Colin had gotten himself into.
There didn’t seem to be a negotiable blue vein throbbing in Barcuda’s pale head.
“I understand that we have nothing further to talk about Mr. Barcuda.” She answered coolly.
As was the case throughout life, when her back hit the wall, this poised creature took over. Maybe Emily’s insides were quivering in fear, but the look she gave conveyed that she was superior to him in every respect.
Barcuda regarded her with a bemused twitch of the lip. His finger tapped the surface of the desk, and her conviction waned as he rounded the bulky wood frame. As much as she wanted to recoil, Emily held her ground as he stepped close enough for her to smell the slick gel that greased his hair back.
“Well, well.” He hummed. “How did I miss you? Right here under my eye all this time?” His skeletal hand lifted and brushed the air just beside Emily’s cheek. There was no way to conceal the revolting tremor that coursed through her. Barcuda smiled at the gesture.
“You have one chance, Miss Brennan. One chance to convince your brother to give me that material. If you succeed I will show you my gratitude.” This time that finger skimmed her jaw, and she jerked back. “If you fail—well, let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Emily.”
Emily jumped in her seat and nearly smacked her head against the roof of the car. She latched onto the door handle while her eyes jumped about until they collided with Brian’s and stayed there.
Autumn. She thought of the beautiful shades of autumn when she looked in his eyes. Granted, his forehead was dented with an intimidating frown, and his jaw was a slash of tension, but his eyes soothed her.
“What?”
“For Christ’s sake, what happened? Why didn’t you tell me about Barcuda?”
“Tell you what?” Emily wrenched the knob for the window down an inch and greedily sucked the frigid air. Pelts of rain and snow lashed her face, but she welcomed nature’s gentle slap.
“Why didn’t you tell me from the start about Barcuda? You know, it didn’t take me long to catch on to his intentions, but you could have told me from the beginning that you were only protecting yourself and your brother and saved us both a lot of heartache.”
“Because I didn’t know you. I still don’t know you.” She cried. “You, you’re the man I found on the road that night. The man I couldn’t let go of. The man who had the most beautiful eyes and the touch of a hand that made me feel safe. In the middle of all that chaos, when I held your hand, I felt safe, Brian. You are the only man who has made me hesitate through this whole ordeal.”
Brian was not even looking at her. His profile was rigid, his chin an inflexible piece of granite. Had her words angered him in some way?
Recklessly she continued.
“Now you know why I had to leave you at that hospital. If that accident had happened under any other circumstance, I would still be by your side. There was something there, an attraction—surely you felt it—” The air fled Emily’s body, her shoulders slumping as she fought against tears. “I held your hand. I would never hold the hand of a stranger, and yet it felt so natural.” She shook her head. “Imagine my surprise when you showed up at the cabin.” There was no awe in her tone, only the bitter tang of disillusionment. “The man that I—I—”
How could she possibly finish that sentence? How could she possibly put into words how she felt those two nights in the hospital? Brian Morrison made her want to forget the rest of the world.
“Imagine my surprise,” She proceeded in a bleak voice, “when the man from the hospital showed up at my cabin to arrest me? And that the same man from the hospital was after my brother, who I will go to my grave protecting.” Her voice caught, “I have so many mixed emotions about you, Brian. So forgive me when I am confused about you, and confused as to what you want from me.”
Above the steady drizzle, the windshield wipers fanned each cycle with a dull screech. Emily concentrated on that motion in an effort to shut her mind down and not listen to the impervious silence beside her.
From that unyielding silence emerged words that shocked her.
“I’m the man you almost made love to last night.”
Emily spun her head, but found only that same implacable expression. Had he really spoken? And if so, why did his choice of words play havoc on her stomach? Why didn’t he say, I’m the man y
ou almost had sex with instead?
“That was—I thought we agreed that that was just a matter of circumstances.”
To add to her shock, Brian swerved off the highway into a small rest stop that was simply an elbow-shaped road with a few neglected picnic benches dotting its path. He severed the ignition and all that could be heard were the fine ice pelts pattering against the roof.
“And I thought,” He turned and draped his arm across the back of the seat, but didn’t continue. He just watched her and finally raised his hand to cup her cheek. In a husky voice he asked, “You felt it?”
“What?” Emily was breathless.
“In the hospital, every time we touched, you felt it too?”
“Yes.” She whispered.
Brian took a deep breath. If only she could identify his emotions. His expression revealed nothing.
“Okay, my gorgeous engineer,” Brian dipped his head and brought his mouth in close to hers, hovering over her lips so that she could feel the warmth of his breath. “Now you’re going to listen to me.”
Granted, this rest stop was not where he wanted to enact this confrontation, but Brian was determined to have it out with his angel. It didn’t matter that her lips tempted him with their proximity and tantalizing glow. He even tried to ignore her admission that there was more than a casual attraction between them. That was a piece of information he was going to store deep in his mind and would analyze later. Right now, he needed to concentrate on keeping Emily safe, and to do so would mean no more secrets.
“You want to know who I am, Emily?” He should really pull back. His mouth was way too close to hers. “I am your judge and jury. This was an internal matter for NMD. Barcuda sure as hell won’t go to the cops, and I’ve taken your sentencing out of his hands. I will not let you anywhere near that man. So if there is someone to pass judgment on you, it’s going to be me.”
Emily crossed her arms, as if she had been rebuked, but the challenge in her eyes didn’t. “And what is your judgment?”
Brian finally sat back, the tempting whiff of shampoo and woman too much for him. He flicked a glance up to the rearview mirror, but the rest stop was empty, with the echoes of the highway a distant sound now.
“Would you trust me enough to give me those drawings?”
Breath hissed through Emily’s clenched teeth. Her mouth opened, snapped shut and then reluctantly she managed, “Brian, please, I feel like they’re all I’ve got to keep myself safe right now.”
Brian looked at the gutsy woman, her light auburn hair cascading in windblown waves around her face, her eyes a tormented sea of resolve and fear.
“Dammit Em, I’m all you have to keep you safe.”
She avoided looking at him. “If I let myself believe that, I would become sloppy.”
It was a good thing she wasn’t looking or she would catch his quick smile. Such a determined woman, his angel. She wouldn’t accept the help that was staring straight at her, but he knew that trust was not a frivolous commodity. And given her position, he would have reacted the same.
“You know,” He began quietly. “You’re responsible to the point of being obsessive.”
Blue eyes narrowed. “I have to be.”
“You do good by him, Em.”
A weary smile made her silhouette beautiful, but pain etched fine lines around her eyes. “Maybe you’re right about my obsession. I feel responsible. I was so angry with my parents. So angry that they left my graduation to go see to Colin. For that one moment of selfishness, I’ve vowed to do everything in my power to take care of him.”
Brian grabbed the steering wheel, if only to keep his hands off her. Her heartache was a blanket that suffocated, and he wanted to sweep that debilitating tarp away.
“Even if it means killing yourself in the process? How does that benefit your brother if he’s left with no one?”
Genuine horror darkened her gaze. “What am I supposed to do?” She exclaimed.
“Trust me.”
Tears glistened in the corners of those eyes, but did not leak any further. Her countenance was a silent plea, but her chin was still held high. Emily’s greatest battle was with herself.
“I do. I have already. I wouldn’t be in this car right now if I didn’t trust you.”
Brian lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Where would you have gone?”
“I could have gotten away from you numerous times.”
“It wouldn’t have been that easy, Emily.”
Her chin tilted further and those tears abated. “No, I don’t imagine it would have.” She reached up to draw cinnamon strands behind her ear, her fingers steadier now. Composure was nearly attained with another sustaining breath. “Look, let’s get going. We’ll get back to Groton and—and then we’ll talk about the designs.”
The battle not to touch her had grown futile. Brian reached up to stroke that shiny hair, his hand cupping her head as his thumb gently massaged the satin strands. “Okay, but do me a favor first.”
Emily looked baffled. “What?”
“Kiss me.”
Pupils dilated, turning her eyes to midnight. Emily’s lower lip dropped and the motion only made him want her more.
“I-I don’t think now is the appropriate time for that.” The newfound poise crumbled.
“You’re probably right,” He uttered gruffly, “but let me tell you this.” He took a deep breath. “I want you to know me, Emily. I want that.” He was leaning in now and could not manage another sentence. Her lips were there and he touched them with his own, tasting her trepidation and brushing it away with soft friction.
He whispered against them, “Now does seem like the right time.”
“Brian,” A hand came up to arrest him, but it was half-hearted, and with one more kiss, she whimpered and her fingers slipped up to his neck and curled there, unconsciously guiding him closer.
Emily’s name came was emitted as a soft groan on his lips with the next kiss. And there it was again. All the passion of last night rushed back in a surge that stunned him. So much so that his arm snaked around her, needing to feel that soft body, pliant against him—needing Emily more than he wanted to admit. This woman, this kiss, felt like a dance with destiny. It felt too right.
For the life of him, he wasn’t about to stop it.
It might have been admiral to pretend he had overpowered her. Brian filled the car with his athletic frame, the muscular physique now pinning her in an embrace that made any attempts at withdrawal futile. But who was she kidding? Wasn’t her arm linked around his neck, drawing his mouth closer, locking it against hers to ensure that this kiss never ended?
This caress of the lips started out tender, but turned into uncontrolled heat as soon as their mouths opened. Brian’s grip drew her so close she spilled across his lap where she felt hard male muscles converged around her, a fortress that made her feel small and protected. Emily’s head tilted back against his arm as she felt his lips dust across her throat, caressing the life thumping erratically beneath them.
“Emily,” He rasped against that skin. “I want you.” His lips brushed up to the corner of her mouth, “but you’re right.” He kissed her again. “Now is not the time.” His mouth swiped against hers slowly. “But the time is coming.”
There was every intention to answer him, but Brian slipped inside her with his tongue. She wanted him to go on kissing her, to wrap her with his hard body and keep all the demons at bay. She wanted this man, and the need nearly made her cry.
Emily’s fingers slipped up into his hair, curling there and holding him to her mouth, as if she could kiss away all doubt, but that was impossible. Reality nagged at her, a dispiriting invasion of this passion. Her thigh slipped off of Brian’s and her hand dropped to his chest. With an anguished sob, she drew back from the lure of his touch.
Locked to his eyes, she detected his smile only by the fine wrinkles that appeared at each corner.
“Okay,” He exhaled. “I’m not going to regret having done that.�
� He withdrew to his side of the seat, and unconsciously brushed a hand over his mouth. “As a matter of fact, that may happen again.”
“Oh?” Emily tugged on her sweatshirt, which had somehow bunched up high on her abdomen.
The ignition turned, and the Impala rattled to life. “Without a doubt.”
Why did that declaration make her heart stumble? She watched Brian, the fluid move of his muscles as he reached for the steering wheel and shifted his powerful thigh into position. Every move he made was a choreographed display of athleticism. She could only imagine what a skillful lover he would be—
“I—I’m going to try and call Colin’s phone again.” She fumbled in her purse, feeling his eyes on her.
“Good idea.”
The Impala maneuvered back onto the thruway and the anonymity of traffic was a camouflaged that comforted her. But how long could it last?
CHAPTER XII
“Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.”
The sound of her brother quoting Benjamin Franklin tugged at Emily. “Lost time is never found again.” She listened to the quotes on his voicemail, already having committed them to memory. Where was he? Was he safe?
“Colin,” She pleaded after the beep. “Dammit, answer me.”
Emily shot a frantic glance at Brian. His eyes met hers, and she hated to expose vulnerability, but there was no pity or impatience in that gaze, only compassion. His hand crossed the front seat and squeezed hers gently.
“Nothing?” He asked.
“No,” Her tone was desperate.
“We’ve got a little over an hour to go.”
“You drive too fast,” Her voice was tight.
“Want me to slow down?”
“Hell no!”
“Don’t worry,” Brian eased. “It’s not as icy as it was that night.”
The recollection subdued her. Images of Brian’s engaging grin in his hospital bed, his brooding concern even as he sought to jail her inside the Lake George cabin. Vivid memories of the taste of his lips, and the texture of his chest as it pinned her to Edelweiss’ downy mattress. And now new images of the dark rings of apprehension that eclipsed the tiger-eyes that now contemplated her. If anything had happened to him that night—
Borrowed Time Page 15
