“You don’t have a choice.” Her dad led the way out of the kitchen.
* * *
Raider didn’t like leaving Brigid with that vulnerable look on her face, but he didn’t have a choice. He’d underestimated the emotional impact on her of returning home, probably since he hadn’t had a home before he was a teenager. So he’d arranged for her to get some space and rest before they continued with the charade. The old man was pretty much what Raider had expected.
After being shown the comfortable guest room, Raider waited about two hours and then got to work. Every floorboard in the old house creaked at the slightest step, and it took all of his substantial training to move quietly. He searched the entire house, the outside barn, and even some of the surrounding property. There were no signs that the place was anything other than a working farm. Even the cellar, which he’d accessed by an outside door, just held more cobwebs and forgotten canning jars than anything else. He checked the barn again, finding only tools and farming equipment.
“What in the heck are you doing?” Brigid whispered, her body nicely outlined by the moon behind her. She’d changed into leggings and a mint-green T-shirt with a barcode across her breasts. With her wildly curly hair and smooth curves, she looked like every wet dream he’d ever had. Not that he’d dreamed of having sex in a barn before.
“Searching.” He moved to her and drew her inside, shutting the door. Her skin was soft and chilled beneath his touch. “What are you doing out?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Moonlight poured in through the upper rafters, highlighting her pretty face. “Lying to my dad is a bad idea. He always finds out the truth.”
“We don’t have time to ease him into the truth,” Raider countered, unable to stop himself from running his hands down her arms to warm her. “Force’s intel says that Coonan has something big cooking up, but we don’t know what. We have to get in there, and now. Maybe your dad will make the introduction if I agree to dump you.” He would love to see her smile.
She rolled her eyes. “You’d never dump me. I’d do the dumping. My dad knows that.”
Cute. Adorable, even. And she was getting used to his touch. It was unfortunate for him that he liked touching her way too much. She was smart and sweet, and stubborn as all get-out. It showed what a deviant he was that that fact turned him on. He brushed the hair off her shoulder and slid his knuckles over the smooth skin of her neck.
Her eyes darkened. “What are you doing?”
Something he definitely shouldn’t. “We have to be more natural with each other to fool anybody.” Could he be any more full of crap? Leaning in, he brushed his lips against her temple, inhaling the sweet scent of her thick hair. Honeysuckle and vanilla. The dual scent was always around her, and it had drawn him since the first day they’d met. “You’re getting used to me.”
She slid her hands up and over his chest. “I’ve wanted to touch you for a while. Not because I like you.” Her hands continued their exploration, and then her knuckles brushed up both sides of his neck. “You’re just so hard and angled that I’ve been curious. When I saw you fight the other day, you moved so gracefully.”
His body went from alert to full-on burn. Her touch was going to kill him. This was an assignment, and he had to keep that thought in his mind. Another thought, one from the back of his brain, spiraled forward. Was she manipulating him? Not once had she hidden her intention to protect her father. If she was working him, she was doing a damn good job of it. Maybe it was time to see how far she’d go. “I’ve wanted to touch you, too.” He tangled his hand in her hair like he’d wanted to for so long.
Her gasp was involuntary and honest.
He liked that. “You can touch me all you want, but I won’t abandon the job.”
“I know that.” Her gaze tracked her hands as she slid them down his chest and over his flat abdomen.
He sucked in air, his jeans becoming way too tight. “What are you doing?”
“Exploring.” Her thumbs brushed slightly beneath his waistband, and she caressed around to the small of his back. “I’m tired of being two steps behind you on this job. I want to be equal partners. If you’re going to be my handler, I’m going to handle you, too.”
He nearly burst out of his zipper. Oh, she was good. Brave, even. “You’re playing with fire, little girl.” His Southern drawl came out low and natural, surprising him. Being home seemed to have centered his wild redhead, and now she was trying to take over. “I’m not one to give up control. Don’t even try.”
Her smile was that of a siren accustomed to getting her own way. “Is that a challenge?”
Yes. God, yes. “No. Just a fact.” He twisted his fingers and tightened his hold in her hair, tugging back slightly. “Tell me you get me.”
Her eyes flared hot and bright. A pretty pink flushed beneath her pale skin. Her nails dug into the skin at the small of his back, even through the cotton. “I don’t think I get you, Raider.” Her voice was a challenging blend of a sarcastic Southern accent and her true Irish tone. “It feels like you don’t have control.”
Well. If that wasn’t a gauntlet, he didn’t know what was. “All right. Let’s change that feeling.” Nothing in the world could’ve stopped him from taking her mouth.
Hard.
Chapter Eleven
Brigid caught her breath in her throat as Raider kissed her, delving deep and possessing with a heat he hadn’t shown before. All of the emotions roused by coming home had prompted her to challenge the biggest predator in the area just to be taken away for a moment. She’d always ventured too close to the flame, and she often got burned.
But the dance was one that pulled her in every time.
His tongue dueled with hers, the taste of whiskey on his breath warming her. His hold was unrelenting and his mouth seeking, taking. Warm and firm and seductive.
What had she done?
