And God knows it would kill me to watch you have to go through that.”
Eve could only shake her head as her chest tightened with fear, regret, and an aching need she couldn’t deny.
“Eve, he will be caught,” he warned her again as he moved to her, reaching out to grip her shoulders gently, staring down at her, understanding and anger filling his gaze. “I’ve never asked anything of you. I’ve done all I could to protect you, your mother, and your sisters. But I’m begging you now: Don’t let him destroy you. Don’t let him do what I can see him getting ready to do to you.”
This was truly the only thing he had ever asked of her, Eve realized as she felt her heart cracking with the pain of the choice he was giving her.
How could she ignore him? He’d never ignored her, her mother, or her sisters. He’d taken care of them. He’d seen that they were fed, educated, and their futures provided for, and all he asked was that she stay away from one man.
A man she was so hungry for it was eating her alive.
She nodded slowly. “I’ll try, Dawg.”
He pulled her to him, hugging her fiercely as she returned the embrace weakly.
“That’s all I ask, Eve,” he said, kissing the top of her head gently. “That’s all I ask.”
THREE
Brogan glared at Timothy Cranston as he watched the monitor. The television and game room had a small warning plaque just inside the door. Notice: This room could be monitored by both video and audio surveillance. A small smile played at the agent’s lips, but his brown eyes were narrowed, his expression thoughtful as he watched Dawg Mackay hug his sister fondly.
Of course it was fondly. The son of a bitch had just played the brother card and forced her to promise to stay away from the big, bad Brogan.
Bastard!
Hell, the ironic part was that he actually liked Dawg.
The Mackay cousins weren’t known for their polite society ways, or their ability to soothe ruffled feathers. They were known for quite the opposite, actually.
When they’d first met, Dawg had laughingly told Brogan that he reminded him far too much of his cousins and asked whether he was a Mackay, despite the red hair. Six months later, Dawg had flat-out asked him whether the underground rumors he was hearing that Brogan was involved in the military thefts were true.
Brogan’s boss had an agenda, unfortunately. Part of that agenda was pulling the Mackays in without officially asking them for help. Brogan had just stared back at him for long seconds before telling Dawg he was going to have to answer that question himself.
He’d evidently done just that. Since that day, Dawg had been as cold as Lake Cumberland in winter.
“You told me Dawg and his cousins would keep their noses out of my business,” he reminded Timothy as he leaned forward in his chair, frowning at the stark pain that filled Eve’s expression.
She’d tried to convince her brother that her instincts about Brogan were right. That, like him, she’d had to learn how to depend on them, how to trust them, just to survive. And still, the brother who was known as not just protective and sheltering, but also respectful and tolerant, had demanded she stay away from the man it was clear his sister was unable to stay away from.
“He is keeping out of your business,” Timothy murmured. “It’s your sex life he’s screwing with.”
Brogan could feel his jaw aching from the clenched tightness of it. It was all he could do to restrain the urge to stomp downstairs and push his way into that room to confront the other man. To ensure that nothing and no one could pull Eve’s attention from him.
His fists clenched, his short, clipped nails biting into his palm as he forced himself to remain sitting.
The last thing he wanted, needed, was for anyone to guess that he and Timothy were more than friendly enemies. Timothy had taken the same public stance on Brogan as Dawg had: a cool reception and a refusal to warm. It was required. Cranston was known
Eve could only shake her head as her chest tightened with fear, regret, and an aching need she couldn’t deny.
“Eve, he will be caught,” he warned her again as he moved to her, reaching out to grip her shoulders gently, staring down at her, understanding and anger filling his gaze. “I’ve never asked anything of you. I’ve done all I could to protect you, your mother, and your sisters. But I’m begging you now: Don’t let him destroy you. Don’t let him do what I can see him getting ready to do to you.”
This was truly the only thing he had ever asked of her, Eve realized as she felt her heart cracking with the pain of the choice he was giving her.
How could she ignore him? He’d never ignored her, her mother, or her sisters. He’d taken care of them. He’d seen that they were fed, educated, and their futures provided for, and all he asked was that she stay away from one man.
A man she was so hungry for it was eating her alive.
She nodded slowly. “I’ll try, Dawg.”
He pulled her to him, hugging her fiercely as she returned the embrace weakly.
“That’s all I ask, Eve,” he said, kissing the top of her head gently. “That’s all I ask.”
THREE
Brogan glared at Timothy Cranston as he watched the monitor. The television and game room had a small warning plaque just inside the door. Notice: This room could be monitored by both video and audio surveillance. A small smile played at the agent’s lips, but his brown eyes were narrowed, his expression thoughtful as he watched Dawg Mackay hug his sister fondly.
Of course it was fondly. The son of a bitch had just played the brother card and forced her to promise to stay away from the big, bad Brogan.
Bastard!
Hell, the ironic part was that he actually liked Dawg.
The Mackay cousins weren’t known for their polite society ways, or their ability to soothe ruffled feathers. They were known for quite the opposite, actually.
When they’d first met, Dawg had laughingly told Brogan that he reminded him far too much of his cousins and asked whether he was a Mackay, despite the red hair. Six months later, Dawg had flat-out asked him whether the underground rumors he was hearing that Brogan was involved in the military thefts were true.
Brogan’s boss had an agenda, unfortunately. Part of that agenda was pulling the Mackays in without officially asking them for help. Brogan had just stared back at him for long seconds before telling Dawg he was going to have to answer that question himself.
He’d evidently done just that. Since that day, Dawg had been as cold as Lake Cumberland in winter.
“You told me Dawg and his cousins would keep their noses out of my business,” he reminded Timothy as he leaned forward in his chair, frowning at the stark pain that filled Eve’s expression.
She’d tried to convince her brother that her instincts about Brogan were right. That, like him, she’d had to learn how to depend on them, how to trust them, just to survive. And still, the brother who was known as not just protective and sheltering, but also respectful and tolerant, had demanded she stay away from the man it was clear his sister was unable to stay away from.
“He is keeping out of your business,” Timothy murmured. “It’s your sex life he’s screwing with.”
Brogan could feel his jaw aching from the clenched tightness of it. It was all he could do to restrain the urge to stomp downstairs and push his way into that room to confront the other man. To ensure that nothing and no one could pull Eve’s attention from him.
His fists clenched, his short, clipped nails biting into his palm as he forced himself to remain sitting.
The last thing he wanted, needed, was for anyone to guess that he and Timothy were more than friendly enemies. Timothy had taken the same public stance on Brogan as Dawg had: a cool reception and a refusal to warm. It was required. Cranston was known
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