Tempt the Night Read online

  “Mac? It’s me—Brady. Don’t shoot.” His whisper filled the room.

  Mac dropped the gun as she released the breath she’d been holding, flew off the bed, and flung her arms around his waist before he was all the way inside.

  He pushed her backward a step until he could close the door and then leaned against it, one hand holding the handles of a small black bag while his other arm went around her back and cinched her snugly against him. “Not that I don’t appreciate the warm welcome, sugar, but is everything all right in here?”

  Between her relief at seeing him, her embarrassment for her outward display of . . . whatever the hell it was, and him calling her sugar again, Mac started to laugh. The look on his face that said he was sure she’d gone bonkers made no difference as Brady led her toward the bed and encouraged her to sit.

  He grabbed a cup from the table, disappeared into the bathroom, and returned with water that he handed to her. She drank it down as a strange sense of calm steadied her nerves. Maybe she really was slipping off the edge of sanity. Fear that she was having a psychotic break fit in nicely with all the rest of her worries.

  With no small effort, she took several deep breaths and succeeded in calming her wildly racing heart. She didn’t realize she was shaking until Brady grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her. Apparently Paddy’s murder, the attempts on her life, shooting a man, and then hearing she’d been accused of killing two cops, one of them her best friend, had put her over the top. Imagine that. She’d always considered herself a strong person, but clearly she’d hit a wall, and the race was over unless she got her act together. Squeezing her eyes closed, she counted slowly backward from a hundred, sure she would wake up from this nightmare before she reached one.

  Brady sat on the worn blanket beside her and spoke soothingly as he stroked her arms. She didn’t have a clue what he was saying, but the sound of his voice was her salvation, pulling her back from the edge of an abyss that called to her with promises of never having to think of Paddy again. Part of her wanted that . . . to ease the sharp grief that sliced her to the bone, but the thought of forgetting him forever—no. She would never forget him. Her psychotic break would have to wait.

  Gradually, her breathing slowed and the sharp ache in her chest dulled. Her eyes opened to meet Brady’s clear green ones, filled with concern.

  He handed her another cup of water. “Want to talk about it?”

  Did he really need her to enumerate her insecurities? Well, too bad, because they didn’t have nearly enough time for that. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have mauled you at the door when you returned. It’s just that I really thought you’d left for good . . . as in not coming back.” She gripped the cup and took a long drink of cold water.

  He met her gaze with a hint of a smile. “So, you were happy to see me then?”

  Mac felt the deep flush prickle along her skin and into her cheeks again.

  Brady chuckled. “Look, you don’t know me. I get that, but I’m not the kind of guy who deserts a lady in trouble, and sugar . . . you’re in trouble. I said I’d be back; I said I’d be thirty minutes; I said I’d bring you a change of clothes.” He held up the black bag that sat beside him on the bed. “I wish you’d trust me just a little bit, because I think you could use my help. And, just for the record, it’s been a long time since anyone was so happy to see me, so mauling is definitely on the approved list.” He winked and grinned.

  Mac couldn’t help but smile, albeit briefly and with embarrassment. Obviously, it would be a while before she lived down that enthusiastic greeting.

  “Time to get dressed.” He gestured toward the bathroom as he glanced at his watch. “And you can ease your conscience. I didn’t steal them. I found a Goodwill store a couple blocks from here, and the back door was unlocked, so I helped myself . . . and left money on the counter.”

  She scoffed. “How convenient.”

  “It’s not all that unusual. Not all of Goodwill’s clientele shop during the day, so they’ve been known to leave a door open on occasion.”

  “And you know this how?”

  His gaze darkened as he pinned her to the spot. “I spent a little time on the street before I found where I was supposed to be.”

  She weighed his explanation, and, deciding he didn’t look like a man who wanted to elaborate, she let it go. “Are we leaving now?” It was nearly four thirty in the morning. Paddy had been dead for over twenty-four hours already. How was that possible? Mac pushed the thought away before the pain could take root.

  “I think that would be wise, don’t you?” He pulled her to her feet and placed the bag in her hands. His gaze searched her face, a tiny frown furrowing his brow.

  “Where are we going?” With her nerves on edge from his scrutiny, she lowered her gaze to his chest and found it impossible not to appreciate the stretch of his T-shirt across well-formed pecs. When he didn’t answer, she raised her eyes to his, only to find he’d been watching her blatant inspection. A sensuous grin slowly eased his impatient expression, and he raised one brow as though waiting for her to take the next step.

  The desire that instantly heated her blood took her by surprise. Turning hastily away, she retreated toward the bathroom. Suddenly, his hands slid around her arms and drew her back against the solid chest she’d been admiring.

  “Wait. Don’t go.” His voice was gravelly, but he buried his face in the curve of her neck, and his warm lips on her sensitive throat were gentle.

  Mac glanced toward him, and her breath caught. His eyes had gone a dark shade of green, and the intensity of his stare caused her heart to do a major flip-flop, sending an air of expectancy to the pit of her stomach. She tried to step away from the heat of his body pressed against the length of hers, but his lips brushed her neck again, ever so gently, as he held her immobile, igniting liquid fire just beneath her skin. She drew a sharp breath and leaned against him, giving him full access to the column of her throat in spite of the warning that raced round and round in her brain.

  He took his time, kissing a path upward to her jaw, then covered her ear, practically causing her knees to drop out from under her. Her swollen nipples ached for his touch, straining against the fabric of the T-shirt he’d loaned her. Suddenly, she was soaking wet between her legs.

  Delicious sensations buffeted her and blocked out the voice of reason that echoed in her head, telling her this was a really bad idea. Mesmerized by his lips, his voice, and the warmth of his arms next to hers, she gave herself over to the raging need within.

  Soft lips and the bristles of his five-o’clock shadow brushed the pulse point in her neck, the unexpected contrast sending another wave of desire through her. His mouth hovered above her ear. “We’d be good together, Mac.”

  Wait. Hearing him say the words suddenly shone a harsh light on the end results of their growing physical attraction. This was moving way too fast. Mac wasn’t ready to be good, bad, or otherwise with anyone. She could certainly see how she’d given him the wrong idea though. Tensing, she tried to pull away, needing some space to examine the inconsistencies that had taken over her reason, but his hold on her didn’t give an inch.

  “Just making an observation, sugar. You don’t agree?”

  Mac wanted this whole topic of conversation to go away. It made her all kinds of uneasy . . . because now she couldn’t help thinking the same thing. His chocolaty-smooth murmur made her lose track of the words she’d wanted to say.

  “I want you, Mac. I’m sure that’s no big secret at this point. You should know that you have nothing to fear from me. Whatever happens will be strictly your choice. Out of respect for the loss of your friend, I won’t try to push you or sway you in any way . . . yet. I’ll just be my usual charming self, which I’m confident you won’t be able to resist for long.” Humor filled the last words, and his breathy laugh moved the hair by her ear, causing her to shiver.

  She’d almost bought into this strange seduction, hanging on his every word . . . until he
mentioned the loss of Paddy. At the abrupt reminder, Mac stiffened, and, seconds later, Brady released her. She fought back the worthless tears formed by guilt and misery. How could she have dishonored Paddy’s memory before he was even buried? A moan slipped between her clenched teeth.

  Brady didn’t give her a chance to put any distance between them, threading his fingers through hers. His expression was clinical and serious. “In the interest of full disclosure, I’m going to give it to you straight.” He reached out to push her hair behind her shoulder, almost apologetic. “I’m attracted to you, and it seems like it’s mutual. I’d like to spend some time together . . . get to know each other better. I want to be clear, though. Due to some inconvenient baggage I brought home from the war, I can’t do long-term or permanent. All I can offer you is now, for however long that lasts, and a promise that I’ll treat you right. You might not give a damn about me or any of this, but I thought it only fair to lay it out on the table. Truth is, I don’t have much to offer unless you’re looking for a few nights of mind-blowing sex, in which case I’m your man.” He paused, his eyes clearly inviting her to say something . . . anything.

  When she didn’t reply, he turned away, removed his gun from his belt, and laid it on the small bedside table. “If I’ve offended you, feel free to turn me down flat. I’ll still guarantee my protection until we get you safely away from here.”

  Mac stared at him, stunned and speechless. Did he really just proposition her for sex with no promises and no strings attached? If he’d wanted to get her mind off Paddy, he couldn’t have found a better way. Walking out seemed appropriate, but if she tried to move her legs, there was no doubt in her mind she’d trip over herself. They were wobbling like Jell-O at the moment.

  Damn him for proving she was putty in his hands—for making her forget all about Paddy and the trouble she was in and showing her how much he could make her want him. If the heat in her throat and cheeks was any indication, she’d flushed crimson. With good reason. The way she’d responded to his touch—his kiss—no one had ever made her react like that before.

  But humiliating her hadn’t been enough. He’d made her empathize with him—have compassion for the man who’d come home from the war, forever changed. God, she was a sucker for a man who knew he wasn’t perfect, but she had no intention of feeling sorry for him. Nor would she enable him to isolate himself from the one thing that made him human—love.

  Jim Brady apparently carried some deep, dark secrets around with him. Secrets that made him afraid to get attached to another person. Was he worried he’d hurt someone if he got too close? The war he’d mentioned had no doubt ravaged him . . . distorted his image of the world and himself. Through her mother’s eyes, she’d had some experience with that.

  Dad had been a lieutenant in the Air Force, shot down behind enemy lines in Viet Nam. A POW for fifteen months, he’d returned a shell of the man he’d been. They’d awarded him a Purple Heart and the Medal of Valor for bravery, but the war continued to rage within him long after he’d been honorably discharged.

  It was her mother’s unwavering determination that had enabled her to stand by him through the nightmares, the cold sweats, and his consuming rage. By the time Mac and her brother came along, the worst was over, but their father continued to be ever watchful, overprotective, and leery of crowded spaces. Without her mother’s faith in him, her father might not have survived those early years. Did Brady have anyone who believed in him that way?

  If her father could heal and take his life back, there was hope for anyone—even Brady. He didn’t know it yet, but he needed her help.

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “What branch of the service were you in?”

  He turned toward her again. “Navy. SEALs.”

  Mac nodded. Her brother had followed their father’s footsteps, enlisting in the Air Force, but from what she’d heard, the SEALs played by entirely different rules. What baggage had Brady brought home with him? Would he talk to her about it? She wouldn’t push him. She’d let him talk when he was ready.

  His troubled eyes met hers. “Thanks for telling me, Brady.” She pivoted and headed toward the bathroom, more lighthearted than she’d been in a while.

  Brady had said he wanted her . . . completely in the physical sense, of course. Yet he’d thought enough of her to warn her that it would only be an affair—short-term. There’d be no house with a white picket fence in their future. How did she feel about that? The attraction between them was electrifying. He turned her on simply by touching her. What would it be like to make love to him? A guilty smile broke free as she closed herself in the bathroom. It was definitely worth her consideration, but Brady had some decisions to make too. His protection, as well as his help to get out of Sitka, was a Godsend, but if he thought he was staying locked inside his Navy SEAL camouflage, he’d better think again.

  Chapter Six

  BRADY FOLLOWED MAC with his gaze as she turned on her heels and marched into the bathroom. Damn, she was sexy—and smart. He’d been prepared for her to turn down his proposition—most respectable women like her did—but she hadn’t addressed that issue at all, skipping right to his military career. Touché, Samantha McCallister. They each had a topic that would lay them too bare, and they both knew better than to continue the conversation.

  He’d do well not to underestimate her. Maybe he was the one in over his head. The bottom line was, it wasn’t in his makeup to abandon women in trouble, but maybe he’d be better off if he did just that. It wasn’t like he didn’t already have his hands full with trying to locate Marco’s mother.

  Aw, hell. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t do it. Mac had gotten under his skin, and he wasn’t willing to walk away just yet. He jerked his cell phone from his belt and dialed. Time to check in with Joe and let his boss know how fucked up the game plan was.

  In spite of the early hour, Joe picked up on the first ring. “I was beginning to wonder. Did you locate Maria?”

  Brady scrubbed a hand through his hair, frustrated that he didn’t have better news. “No, and . . . it gets worse.”

  A flurry of movements filtered through the phone. “You’re on speaker, Jim. Walker and Ty are here too. What’s happening?”

  Brady could imagine his fellow team members straddling chairs, leaning close to hear. “I still haven’t confirmed that the note came from Maria, but whoever set up that meeting didn’t show. Someone else was there waiting for the illusive M too. A woman—Samantha McCallister. Once I determined she wasn’t a threat, I . . . sort of helped her evade a couple of state troopers.” Brady closed his eyes and rushed on. “I killed the one that was about to slice her up.”

  Complete silence on the other end. This was the first time he’d ever left Joe speechless, and he couldn’t imagine that was a good thing. Brady could almost see the looks that were flying around Joe’s study.

  “Damn. I knew I should have gone with you.” Walker broke the stunned silence.

  Brady grinned at his friend’s disappointed tone. “It’s not as bad as it could have been. Mac got the other one before I could reach her, and he’s only wounded.”

  Joe’s sigh was audible. “And where is this Mac now?”

  “She’s in my bathroom getting dressed.”

  A truncated laugh erupted from Walker.

  “Let’s start from the beginning, Jim,” Joe said. The sound of a chair sliding across the floor screeched in Brady’s ears.

  “Long story short—we’ve got some dirty cops that killed another trooper who happened to be a friend of Mac’s. She saw it go down, and they were going to silence her. One of the dirty cops is dead now, and the other has a non-life-threatening wound, but we don’t know how many more there are. She also saw three strangers carrying automatic weapons, and there’s somebody named Hernandez who’s apparently mad as hell that she’s still alive. To top it off, local law enforcement is calling her a cop-killer. If she goes to the police for help, they’ll lock her up and probably not look very har
d for the real killer.”

  Joe exhaled as though he’d been holding his breath. “I suppose you want to help her?”

  “I . . . can’t walk away on this one, Joe.”

  “So we’ve got Hernandez . . . and what’s her friend’s name—the trooper who was murdered?” Ty’s voice echoed from farther away in the room.

  “Patrick Callahan.” Brady felt some of the weight lift off his chest. Joe and the rest of the team might not appreciate the circumstances, but they’d help, just like they always did.

  Joe and Walker were former Marines, Special Forces. When Joe’s last hitch was over, he did a stint with the Secret Service, where he met a lot of people in high places, many of whom had jobs that required Joe’s training along with the ability to be very, very discreet. He bought the ranch in Montana, started a training facility for special ops and law enforcement, and began collecting capable men to help him. Walker had joined up after Joe led a team that rescued him from a North Korean prison; Ty used to be a cop and required a place to lay low for a while; and Brady was starting over because he couldn’t go home to the family he loved. Fucking misfits all, but it worked for them.

  “Got it. I’ll check it out and also see what the scuttlebutt is in the Division of AST. Maybe I’ll pick up on something. Do you want me to check out the girl?” From the sound of his voice getting farther and farther away, Ty was already on the move.

  “Good idea. Thanks.”

  “What else do you need us to do?” It was Joe’s standard response in any situation and only one of the reasons Brady respected the man and would do anything for him.

  “I need a safe house somewhere outside of Sitka, and as soon as I find Maria, I’ll need a quick extraction.”

  “Okay. I’ve got a couple possibilities. I’ll get back to you with an address and try to locate you a friendly pilot. Any leads on Maria?”

  “Nothing, but assuming it was her who left the note, Callahan had a business card with her handwriting and the same initial she signed on the slip of paper she left for me. I’m afraid she’s mixed up in this somehow, which means I need to find her before she ends up dead like Callahan—if it’s not already too late.” The bathroom door opened, and Brady turned, letting his gaze trail appreciatively over Mac as the light bathed her from behind.