Chapter 4

“I’m so sorry, Miss Grace,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. Just tell me where the files are, and I’ll let you go. I promise.…

“Miss Grace, helpin’ your momma was a really bad idea.…”

* * *

That night, Grace was still trying to make sense of the attack, to make sense of what was going on.

Rich had been so certain she had whatever files he wanted, just as he’d been certain she was helping her mother, Lucia Maddox, betray the Maddox Clan.

What files?

Despite the sting of the stitched wound on the outside of her thigh, Grace paced her bedroom, going over each second of her recollection, desperate for answers and all too aware that Zack was in the connecting room.

Her television droned on in the background, the late-evening news reporting its doom and gloom. Normally, she’d pay more attention to it; tonight, her attention was far too fractured.

She couldn’t even keep her mind on the fact that someone wanted her dead for something she didn’t even possess. Oh, hell no, let’s not concentrate on the fact that her dog was nearly dead and a friend had tried to kill her, not when Zack Richards was in the other room. Not when he’d made her body respond to him despite her best efforts to keep that from happening.

Let’s just jump on the orgasm free-for-all and torment herself with memories of it as she did in the hours before she’d forced herself to go over the attack again.

Her body was all for it. It was begging for a second helping. It was greedy. Her inner trollop was still cheering for Team Richards, no matter her attempts to shut it down.

Still far too sensitive, memories of that afternoon plaguing her, Grace tried to tell herself she wasn’t going to allow it to happen again—but she knew better.

Damn, he was good. So damned good. The feel of his kiss, the stroke of his fingers—

Nope, not going there.

She shook her head, grimacing at the effort it took to pull her mind back from reliving that pleasure and make herself concentrate on preserving her life instead.

What in the hell made Rich think she had any sort of files or that she’d been helping a traitor? It made no sense.

Everyone knew what little use Lucia had for her only child. Her mother had reviled not just the stepsons who came with her marriage to Benjamin Maddox but also the daughter who adored her father. Her father had been her hero. If anyone had been Daddy’s little girl, then it was Grace. She’d been devastated by his death.

So why would she be accused of helping Lucia?

Frowning into the dimly lit interior of her bedroom, she paced the length of the room again. Or rather, limped her way across it.

The slice on her upper leg was deep enough to require stitches and, no doubt, if Magnus hadn’t been there to protect her, would have been far worse. Her pet’s injuries had nearly been fatal.

Dammit, she’d grown up with Rich. She’d known him for most of her life. Why attack her? Why not just ask for whatever he thought Lucia had given her?

Nibbling at her thumbnail, she went over the attack again, played it back, forward, tried to remember each nuance of his voice, every word the farmhand had said. When nothing there made any more sense than it had before, she tried to remember each meeting with her mother before the day Lucia had been taken from the house by the Brigham agents.

In the weeks before that, Lucia had been even more caustic, more insulting toward Grace than ever. Grace had stayed out of her way as much as possible. Of course, she tended to do that regardless, simply because Lucia’s gibes always had the power to hurt, to make Grace feel as though she were the flawed one because her mother couldn’t love her.

Grace had had her own concerns, though. Trying to stay one step ahead of Cord and any threat against Kenni, she’d been consumed with ensuring her cousin stayed hidden and safe. There was little time for anything else.

And now, she had to deal with Zack.

Just when she thought life could calm down a little …

At least she’d been able to shower, with some help from Kenni. Her hair was washed and neatly brushed rather than tangled around her face. She’d felt like a bedraggled orphan earlier in the day.

“I can think of better ways to spend the night than pacing the floors.”

Swinging around, Grace barely managed to contain a surprised cry, both at the pain caused by the movement as well as by the sight of Zack leaning in the doorway connecting the two bedrooms.

Freshly showered, he hadn’t yet combed his dark auburn hair; it framed his face with roguish messiness that looked far too sexy. His chest and feet were bare. Hard, tight abs flexed as he scratched at the light sprinkle of hair on his chest. The only reason he was on the right side of decent was the snug jeans, zipped but not buttoned, hanging low on his hips.

She wanted to lick him.

Bite him.

All night long.

What in the hell had possessed her uncle to allow him to spend the night?

“Uncle Vinny catches you in here, and he’ll skin you alive,” she hissed, hobbling back to her bed, grateful she’d changed from her gown to the silky black pajamas Kenni helped her into after her shower.

“He’d have to catch me first.” The arrogance in his tone was too natural to be faked. Which meant he’d kept that side of himself hidden over the years. At least from her.

Before she could pull herself back to the mattress, she felt Zack quickly lift her and then gently settle her against the pillows.

“I could have done it myself!” she snapped, at odds with herself and the liquid pleasure now coursing through her. “I’m not a damned invalid.”

“That knife wound to your thigh says different,” he grunted, easing back before once again sitting at the side of her bed as though he had every right to do so.

“I was doing fine,” she reminded him irritably. “Magnus is much worse. Besides—” She breathed out heavily. “—I have to head to D.C. to the Brigham Estate next week. I need to work out some of the soreness.”

The monthly meeting with the Brigham Agency couldn’t be put off. Besides, she was friends with Victoria Brigham and had promised to attend her birthday party. She’d actually been looking forward to it.

“Like hell.” The scowl on Zack’s face caused her to tilt her head and stare back at him in surprise while arranging the blankets to her waist.

“What’s like hell?” she asked absently, trying not to focus on his lips. Especially the lower one with that slight fullness to it that she just wanted to nibble at.

Lick.

Maybe even bite.

She didn’t think all night long would be enough time.

“What the hell are you doing, making a trip to the Brigham Estate?” The irritation in his tone had her refocusing on listening to him rather than biting him. “You have no business there.”

Grace stilled. “Really? According to my uncle and Alex Brigham, I have a monthly meeting there, just as I’ve had since I took over the position as Uncle Vinny’s assistant. One weekend a month. They insist.” She waved her hand negligently. “I tend to go along with such requests, though.” She smiled sweetly. “Considering it is my job.”

So much for that friendly, quiet accountant demeanor he’d been lying to her with over the years. He was just as hard-edged and arrogant as her cousins. Well, they’d learned better than to try to run over her through the years. If Zack insisted on sticking around the Maddox household, he’d learn as well.

Probably the same way her cousins had: the hard way.

“Not anymore, it’s not,” he assured her, staring at her as though he couldn’t imagine her doing such a thing.

It was the Brigham Estate, not a brothel, for pity’s sake.

“Has Uncle Vinny canceled the meeting?” she asked with deliberate confusion. She tended to play with morons. It was a game of sorts.

“He will be.” The reply was one of complete confidence.

“When he informs me that I don’t have to do my job, then I won’t do it.” She smiled once again. “Until then, plans are on. I’ll be heading out at the end of next week.”

And Uncle Vinny would not be telling her she couldn’t go. The private meetings with Alex Brigham and his son Madden were more necessary now than they had ever been. Besides, she was really looking forward to that party. Her dress was waiting at the estate, the price alone ensuring she attended. It had taken a hefty chunk from her account.

“Did you somehow miss the fact that your life is in danger?” Zack rose furiously from the bed, shot her glare, then turned away to stalk to the other side of the room. Turning back to her, he tried to tell himself to stop lusting after her and attempt to talk some sense into her. She did not have to obey her uncle no matter the danger to herself.

“I’m certain Uncle Vinny is taking every precaution, he always does.” She shrugged, remembering the warning Cord had given her earlier not to let Zack know about her self-defense training or just how stubborn she could be.

Evidently, whoever had targeted her was taken in by the appearance she and her family had deliberately kept up over the years: that she was meek and helpless. After all, Vinny would never allow someone who was weak to know the details of the Kinship. Hell, even Luce had believed the ruse. She’d often reminded Grace how little her uncle trusted her simply because she was so weak-minded.

It was laughable at times.

Hard-edged, military-trained Kin leaders were known to hang their heads or eye her nervously whenever they pissed her off, but her own mother hadn’t seen who she really was. Obviously, neither had Zack.

Blame her stubbornness on him, Vinny had always suggested, and she did just that.

Always appear wary of Vinny’s temper, Cord, Deacon, and Sawyer had advised her.

They’d preached that to her for years simply to ensure she was never targeted because of her job. Vinny never respected anything but strength. If she didn’t appear to embody that innate strength, then no one would suspect she held his secrets. Now it wasn’t her job endangering her, but the mother who should have fought to protect her instead.

She’d be amused, but she’d grown out of caring about her mother’s motivations in her teens.

“Vinny took every precaution yesterday as well, didn’t he?” Zack sneered. “That bastard nearly killed you and your dog. What would you have done if not for Magnus, Grace?”

Put that knife in his throat! she thought furiously. She wished she had done that instead of trying to pull back and play helpless, hoping to keep him alive for questioning. He hadn’t expected her to fight; she hadn’t expected Magnus to attack so viciously.

She’d misjudged the situation, and it pissed her off.

“Zack, you will have to take this up with Uncle Vinny,” she told him again, keeping her voice calm. “Both my half brothers, Baer and Banyon, will be accompanying me, and I understand you’ll be there as well. I’ll be perfectly safe,” she pointed out.

Asshole. Cord had already discussed Zack’s meeting with the men in her family with her earlier.

“You weren’t safe in your own home—”

“We had no idea I was in danger,” she pointed out with such innocent logic, he ground his teeth together in frustration.

Zack could feel the irritation beginning to work up his spine even as lust tightened his balls. She was staring at him as though she had complete faith in her family to protect her when they’d failed her once already. The second time could mean her death.

She was sitting there in her girly bed as though nothing and no one had touched or could touch her. So certain she was safe. So certain no one would ever hurt her again.

God, it was killing him.

A golden retriever puppy in a wolf’s den. Sawyer’s words haunted him.

With her soft, golden blonde hair framing her face in lush waves and falling to her shoulders, she looked too soft, too tempting. Those big green eyes were innocent, so filled with faith. And she was so damned tiny that he wondered if he’d break her when he actually managed to get her beneath him.

Going slow and easy would be hell, but he’d do it. There was no way to fake being lovers. The act had to be legit. It was the only way to draw out the traitor intent on killing her. Once rumors that he was the missing Brigham nephew began to circulate, then her enemies would know there was no way in hell the Brigham family would move against her so long as she was in his bed. It would also ensure no orders went out against her from the Brighams. That avenue would be effectively closed to whoever was targeting her.

This way, the enemy would have to do his own dirty work and contact Zack. And everyone in the Kin knew exactly how Zack felt about the Maddox Clan, other than Grace, as well as the Brigham family. He’d made no secret of it.

“Grace,” he tried again as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared back at her. “This isn’t a game. It’s your life. Do you want to die?”

She lowered her head, the fall of hair obscuring her expression as she seemed to staring at her fingers where they lay on the quilt covering her.

Delicate fingers with pretty oval nails. Nails that had clenched into his shoulders earlier as her hips arched, pressing the slick flesh of her sex into his palm as she came for him.

“You should leave, Zack,” she finally said softly, still refusing to look at him. “I understand we all have an important meeting in the morning, and I need to rest.”

Important meeting, her ass. According to Cord, Zack was going to inform them how he intended to protect her. He thought she was just as weak and defenseless, just as malleable as Luce had believed.

He was in for a surprise.

Just because she couldn’t reveal her training didn’t mean she couldn’t reveal her temper, and he was testing it sorely at the moment.

“Not until we have this resolved.” He stalked back to the side of the bed, watching her carefully when she glanced back up at him. The way the slight tilt of her eyes seemed more pronounced, the dark emerald color gleaming with a hint of anger, her flushed cheeks, the stubborn set of her chin.

Why had he never noticed that determined little curve before?

“It is resolved. Unless Uncle Vinny tells me otherwise, then I’m heading to D.C. at the end of next week. You can go with me, stay here, go home, go back to work, I don’t care.” She stared straight up at him then, pure green fire making her eyes brighter.

A grin tugged at Zack’s lips. “Do you think you’re going to get stubborn on me, Grace?” he asked her, scooting next to her hip on the bed and watching as her petite nostrils flared in irritation. “After this afternoon, do you really think it’s going to work?”

She stared back at him resolutely. “It was good, Zack,” she surprised him a second later. “It was real damned good, and I’m sure it can get better.” And not once did she bat an eyelash. “And I’m sure I’d promise you anything you want once you started touching me, just to have it again. But don’t doubt, I’ll lie straight to your face and once I’m out of this bed, I’m going to do exactly what I want to do, and exactly what my job entails I do. Consider that before you try to use sex to control me. That control lasts only while we’re in the bed.”

He’d be damned. She believed every word spilling past those pretty little lips, didn’t she? She was so convinced that what he could do to her, what he could make her feel would be so easily overlooked once her bouncy little ass came off the sheets?

He shook his head in amused regret. “Ahh, baby, one of these days, you won’t be under Vinny’s roof. You’ll be in my home, in my bed, where I can show you different. Then we’ll see how brave you are.”

She gave a little shrug. “The chances of that happening before we go to D.C. are slim. I’ll take my chances.”

She would take her chances, would she?

Zack braced his arm across her hips, leaned forward until his lips were less than an inch from her, and warned her softly, “I’m not one of those little boys who pant after your cute ass. I’m a man, Grace, and one you don’t want to dare.”

Her lips parted, her breathing heavy. Zack watched as a flush suffused her face and pure want filled her eyes. “I didn’t barge into your bedroom, making demands,” she whispered, breathless, her tongue poking out to dampen her lips. “We both know you can make me want you—it’s a game you’ve been playing since I was eighteen.” The hurt that flashed in her eyes then surprised him. “You are indeed a man, Zack, but I’m not a stupid girl anymore. Don’t make that mistake. Now, stop teasing me and let me go to sleep. It’s been a helluva two days.”

He leaned forward just that little bit, then captured her lips at that moment when she thought she could turn away from him, thought she could escape the hunger raging through his system. He deserved one more taste of her before morning came. Before she learned what a bastard he intended to be.

He deserved the pure, unvarnished need he tasted in her kiss, the way she flowed into him, melted against his chest, and let him in. Her arms snaked around his shoulders, those delicate nails pressing into bare skin, pricking at his flesh with heated need.

Oh, he was going to have her. Not tonight, not until she knew what she was facing, knew what they were doing. He didn’t want fairy tales in her eyes when she stared at him. Fairy tales didn’t exist, but this did.

Her lips parted for him again, her tongue tasting his as he possessed her with his kiss and pulled those hot whimpering little moans from her throat. This was what he wanted to see in her eyes. The need for this, the aching hunger, and a woman’s knowledge that she would come to him, no matter what, just for this pleasure alone.

That she was his—

At that thought, he jerked back, staring down at her, shocked at his own musings, at the depth of need beginning to burn in his veins. Pure, raging lust mixed with a hunger he’d never allowed himself before and wouldn’t tolerate now.

Rising quickly from the bed, he glared down at her, jaw clenched, his body demanding he take her, lust tearing through him with a force he’d never experienced before.

What the hell had she done to him?

She accused him of teasing her since she was eighteen? Hell no, it wasn’t her he’d teased; he’d been teasing himself, killing himself with the need for her. And he was damned if he could figure out why.

“Get your rest, Grace,” he growled, the discipline it took to force himself away shaky at best. “Rest well, because after tonight, you may be far busier than you ever imagined.”