Shadows and Silk Read online

  The truth of his words slammed into her. He was telling her that he understood they belonged together, but he didn’t like it, and he’d continue to fight it.

  She drew the finger touching her lips into her mouth. Her teeth nipped at the calloused pad of his finger before drawing it further inside. His breath grew heavy, and she could feel his erection growing against her stomach.

  “You were too young for me then,” he said. “And in ways, you’re still too young for me. I should have never touched you four years ago, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Just like I know I’ll touch you again before it’s all said and done.”

  The whimper escaped before she could control it, and her eyes fluttered closed as his other hand traced the underside of her breast.

  “I know I’m no damned good for you, and your brothers should have shot me for touching you. And believe me, baby. They know I’ve touched you.”

  She jerked back, her breath heaving and fire in her eyes as she heard him try to explain that he wasn’t good enough for her. That was a bullshit excuse if she’d ever heard one. Something much deeper was keeping him from loving her the way they were meant to love. She placed her hand over his heart, the steady beat a comfort beneath her palm.

  “But you’ve always been a light to my darkness, baby. And if anything happens to you I don’t think my soul can survive it. If I think for one second that you’re in danger while we’re on this mission, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and hide you away for good, Ramos and your brothers be damned.”

  He backed away and the softness that had been in his face for that brief moment was gone, replaced by the determined hardness of his jaw. She was pissed off and turned on in equal measure, and she was just about to open her mouth to let him have it when he turned his back and walked away.

  “You’d better get dressed. We’re already starting our descent.”

  She stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. It was either that or start screaming.

  Chapter Seven

  “Oh, hell no,” Brant said, as Darcy came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later.

  The cobalt blue bikini top was nothing more than two tiny triangles and string, showcasing her firm, round breasts to perfection. The matching sarong she wore barely covered her ass, and he had a feeling if he ever saw the bikini bottoms he’d go into cardiac arrest. Her black hair fell down her back in waves, and if the sway of her hips was anything to go by, she knew exactly how damned sexy she looked.

  “You’re changing the minute the wheels touch the ground. You can’t traipse around Mexico half naked.”

  “Don’t worry, sugar. I found the perfect place for my knife.”

  The teasing glint in her eyes and the images that one statement brought to mind had all the blood pooling below his waist. He sucked in oxygen and stared hard at her as she calmly strapped herself back into her seat to prepare for landing. His gaze ran up the length of her legs, from the tips of her scarlet toes all the way up to the smooth, dusky thighs that felt like silk when wrapped around him. The sight of her had stolen his breath, and he was so hard he could barely sit to strap himself in.

  “You’re changing,” he growled. “And that’s final.” His voice sounded like a stranger’s—broken and husky.

  She picked up a magazine and started flipping through it. “Everything in the boxes you dropped off for me looks like this. I guess you weren’t the one to select all my clothing?”

  “No,” he scowled. But he was going to murder Jade the first chance he got. The agencies had every want and need right at their fingertips, and Jade had been the only available female in the area since the plan had been for her to arrive in Mexico with Max as another couple at the resort. Brant had only had one request—that she pick a lot of blue. Darcy looked like a goddess in blue. But Jade, sick sense of humor that she had, decided to make his life a living hell by clothing Darcy in as little blue as possible.

  “I got the impression I’m supposed to play the part of trophy wife.” She smirked at him over the top of her magazine. “I’ll tell everyone I’m your much younger second wife since you’ve always been so worried about our age differences.”

  If only she knew how right she was. His back teeth clenched together and he knew the expression that came over his face—the one the other DHS agents called his killing mask. Thoughts of his first wife never made him feel anything but anger. Or the need to kill her all over again for ruining the one thing that had brought innocence and purity to his savage life.

  Brant hated the hurt look he’d put on Darcy’s face. Of course she didn’t understand his reaction to what should have been a simple joke, but even the mention of his wife made him freeze. He didn’t speak another word to her as the plane finally landed, and he grabbed the emergency bag with extra cash, passports and guns, and slung it over his shoulder. Their bags would be brought to the resort by their “guards,” and he and Darcy would drive separately.

  Their covers were firmly in place and fairly straightforward. As Brandon Kane, he’d earned his money the old-fashioned way—by inheriting it. And then he’d tripled his wealth by making healthy investments and buying up real estate. Darcy had been right about her cover. She was his much younger third wife, and the only thing she needed to worry about was staying barely dressed and trying to seduce him. The high profile cover was the easiest way to fly in his own personal entourage and use Declan’s private plane.

  “Here are your keys,” one of Declan’s men said. “The green Jeep is yours. We’ll follow behind you in the black one.” The agent stared down at Darcy, an uncomfortable look coming into his eyes. “I’m supposed to give you a message from your brother.”

  “Why am I not surprised by that,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “What is it?”

  “He says to ease off your new husband and stay out of trouble.”

  Brant recognized the look that came into her eyes, and he took a step closer just in case he needed to protect the man.

  “Since you’ve done such an excellent job of spying for my brother, why don’t you give him a message back for me.” The agent took a small step back and Brant couldn’t say he blamed him. “Remind him mom and dad still don’t know who hid the firecrackers under the wood in the fireplace. Last time I checked, mom was still mad that her brand new leather sofa was burned down to the stuffing.”

  Brant’s lips twitched because he’d heard the story told a million times at different MacKenzie gatherings, and it was still a sore subject that no one would ever confess to, though it had happened almost twenty years before.

  Darcy left Declan’s agent shaking in his boots, and Brant followed the twitch of her hips down the stairs and into the bright sun. They both slipped on their sunglasses and into the dark green Jeep that had been left for their use. He couldn’t see her eyes behind the dark glasses, but he could tell by the stiffness in her shoulders that she was still upset about his reaction earlier. And when Darcy was hurt, she got pissed. They were in for a long drive.

  ***

  The resort where they were staying was an oasis in the desert—a mile long driveway lined with palm trees, and the ocean playing as backdrop to a white stucco palace that promised luxury at every turn.

  They were greeted at the door by men dressed in matching khaki shorts and white flowing button up shirts with the hotel logo over the heart. Drinks appeared in their hands, and the cold air in the lobby was a welcome respite after the three-hour drive they’d just made.

  Brant put his hand at the small of Darcy’s back and she stiffened under his touch, only to relax immediately once she remembered the roles they were playing. She downed the fruity concoction in her glass and then turned to smile up at him, though he could see the strain around the edges.

  An older man dressed in khakis and a white polo approached them. He had a distinguished look about him, and Brant knew from the dossier gathered about the resort that they were about to meet the owner himself.

  “Mr. an
d Mrs. Kane,” the owner said, his smile genuine. “I’m Marco Luna, and I’m happy to welcome the both of you to La Luna Resort and Spa. Congratulations on your marriage. Everything has already been taken care of for your arrival. You have the honeymoon beachside villa for the duration. Please let us know if we can do anything for you.”

  Brant took advantage of the moment and pulled Darcy closer, sliding his hand around her bare waist. Her skin was warm and smooth as silk, and he smiled as he felt her breath catch. Her body never lied when it came to the effects of his touch.

  “We’d like to get settled as soon as possible” he said. “It’s been a long drive, and I’m sure my wife would like to freshen up and rest for a while.”

  “Of course, of course,” Mr. Luna said.

  He had to give the owner credit. He kept his eyes on Darcy’s face instead of checking out her body like every other man in the hotel. The possessiveness Brant felt had him scowling in warning at those who looked her over a little too long. Including Max, that bastard, who was having a drink at the bar with a woman who was as scantily clad as Darcy.

  “Your luggage has just arrived, and our bellmen will have it delivered to you shortly. My son will be over soon to personally take you to your villa.” Marco looked around and his smile dimmed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get my son. Please, enjoy another drink,” he said, signaling to a waitress from the bar.

  Brant waited until Darcy had another drink in her hand before he spoke. “The first item on the agenda is to find you something decent to wear,” he said. “It appears I’m the jealous sort after all. And if I have to stand here and watch one more man stare at you like you’re his greatest fantasy, then I’m going to end up killing someone.”

  He flinched as she pinched his side and wiggled that hot little body closer. His cock responded immediately, and he turned slightly so she hid his erection from public view. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he felt the softness of her breasts against his chest.

  “You’ll just have to deal with it,” she purred, kissing his chest as she cradled his hardness against her belly.

  “You expect me to deal with it? I’m not Kenneth, sweetheart. You won’t walk all over me.” Things were about to get out of control. He could feel it.

  Darcy’s hand slipped under his shirt and her nails scraped across the rigid muscles of his abdomen. “I’ll walk wherever I damned well want to. Stop acting like a caveman. It’s ninety degrees outside in October, and we’re at a resort. Look around you. I’m wearing more than a lot of the women here, including that woman by Max who looks like she wants to stab him with the toothpick in her martini glass.”

  Brant grunted, but couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the vixen in front of him to see what was happening between Max and Jade. “Stop wiggling that sweet pussy against me or that’s about to change. My control is at its limit, Darcy.”

  “Speaking of wiggling,” Darcy said, running those long, slim fingers up and down his arm. He caught her hand and kissed her palm before nipping at each of her fingers. Her nipples spiked to hard points beneath the excuse for a bathing suit top, and if someone didn’t come and show them to their room soon, he was going to look for the nearest dark corner so he could relieve the ache in his balls.

  “Who’s that woman with Max?” she asked, her voice breathy.

  “I haven’t noticed any other women since we walked in. Just you.”

  Brant skimmed his fingers over her bare middle and slid them under the fabric of her bikini top, rubbing slow circles on underside of her breast. They were pressed together in the middle of the hotel lobby, the stolen touches hidden from the smattering of other couples scattered around, but it was obvious that something naughty was happening between them. Her hands clenched against his shirt, and he could see the pulse pounding in her throat.

  “Liar,” she moaned against him. “You always notice everything.”

  “That’s Jade. You’ll get a chance to meet her later.”

  “Stop teasing me,” she moaned. “Unless you’re living out some exhibitionist fetish that I don’t know about.”

  He chuckled and removed his fingers from her bikini top. “You’re the tease. And I’m past the point of caring who’s watching so long as I can be inside you.” She shuddered against him and he held her close as their bodies settled down.

  “She’s beautiful,” Darcy said out of the blue. “Jade, I mean.”

  There was no doubt that Jade was a beautiful woman. She was tall, a couple of inches shy of six feet, and she had a lean muscular body and arms like Linda Hamilton’s in Terminator 2. Her skin was the color of dark caramel and her black hair was cut in a pixie style around her angular face. Her green eyes matched her name, and the exotic tilt of them reminded him of a sorceress ready to cast a spell. You couldn’t tell by looking at her that she could kill a man with only the touch of her fingertips.

  “What’s beautiful is the way that woman handles a weapon,” Brant said. “You’ll never meet a better sniper. She’s saved all our asses at one point or another.”

  Darcy shifted again, and he had to bite back a groan at the way she fit against him. He leaned down and kissed his way up her cheek to her ear and whispered, “You know you’re driving me crazy, don’t you, sugar?”

  He felt her smile against his chest. “Of course. But if it makes you feel any better I want you so bad I can barely breathe.”

  “God, Darcy,” he groaned. “We need to talk before we let this go any further. There’s no doubt I’m going to be sliding into that hot pussy before the day is out, but there are things we need to discuss.”

  “There’s no need to discuss anything,” she said, her eyes wide and serious. “I’ve made a decision, and I think we can have fun these next weeks without any of the baggage you despise. And if you don’t have me naked and screaming in the next forty-five minutes, I’m going to cause a riot. I’m a big girl this time around, Brant. I don’t expect anything more than you can give me. And when you walk away, I’ll finally be able to move on to the next stage of my life without any regrets.”

  “Will it be so simple to move on, Darcy?” he asked, his heart clutching at the thought of how cold she sounded. How final. “I’ve made some decisions of my own. What if neither of us walk away this time?”

  She pulled back so there was a hairsbreadth of space between them, but he couldn’t read her expression for once. “What are you saying, Brant? That you want to get married and live happily ever after? Has an alien taken over your body or something?”

  He swallowed and nodded his head. “I’ll marry you. I can give you that promise. We both keep our promises. And I can give you children.”

  Her lips trembled with emotion and she shook her head in denial. “What about love, Brant? Can you give me that, or are you making some magnanimous gesture just so you can get your cake and eat it too? Because really, it’s not a problem. I’ll give you the cake for free, and let you eat it.”

  Something terrible felt like it was ripping inside of him, but he knew that more than one set of eyes were on them, so he pulled her back into his arms and buried his face against her neck to hide the sudden tension between them. He got the feeling that she was mocking him, but he hadn’t seen any humor in her face.

  Isn’t this what she wanted?

  “So you’re telling me you won’t marry me unless I pretend to give you an emotion that doesn’t even exist?” he asked, fury touching his voice. “I could just lie and say the words you wanted to hear. That’s what most people do, isn’t it? I thought you of all people would want to approach something like this with honesty, but I can say the words if you need to hear them that bad.”

  “We should talk about this later,” she said. “People are staring at us.”

  “They’re staring at you because you look like sin and sex. And I think we should definitely talk about this now.”

  Brant felt something close to panic rise up and grip his heart, and he looked around for a place wh
ere they could talk privately. He caught Max’s eye and the other man raised his brow in question, but Brant ignored him. He’d never thought Darcy wouldn’t want to marry him. It wasn’t an option now that he’d made up his mind, and that might make him the worst kind of arrogant bastard, but he was giving her the future she’d spoken of less than twenty-four hours before. What more could she want from him? He never thought he’d be able to offer her even that much.

  “Stay here,” he said, leaving her alone as he headed to one of the bellboys who was loading up their luggage on a cart. He got directions to their cottage in broken English, but he got the general idea, and tipped him twenty bucks for his help.

  Something more was driving him now, and he was sorely afraid it was because Darcy had set the stakes higher and he was at risk of losing something he hadn’t known he’d had. He cared for her, and the thought of her belonging to him forever was starting to sit comfortably on his shoulders. He could trust her. She wasn’t like Vivian, no matter how much they resembled each other in looks.

  Brant made his way back to Darcy and grabbed her by the hand, leading her out into the tropical gardens that surrounded the resort. The pathways were mostly deserted, but just to be safe he veered off to one of the lesser-worn areas.

  “Brant, you’re overreacting,” Darcy hissed. “You don’t really want to marry me, so what the hell is all of this about? I told you, I’m happy to scratch your itch. You’ll be doing me a favor by scratching mine right back. You’re acting like a spoiled child who isn’t getting his way.”

  Brant lifted her over a fallen palm tree, and he slowed his pace when a pink stucco building came into view. He pushed her towards one of the two wooden doors, not caring which one they entered.

  “Are you insane,” she said, her voice strangled. “This is the ladies room. Someone will come in.”

  He looked around the small space and grunted, satisfied that the room was empty. He was losing his mind. There was no other explanation. Of course, he’d lost it four years ago when he’d been buried deep inside the spitfire beside him.