Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
M ac was en route home from a meeting when his phone rang. He recognized Hank’s number on the readout and answered on the first ring.
“Is she okay?” he barked.
No point bothering with hello. He’d asked Hank to keep an eye on Kelli, to make sure she stayed safe from gunrunners and thieves and fast-moving cars and large insects. If anything had happened to her?—
The silence on the other end of the line made Mac’s gut clench.
“She’s fine but there’s been a change in her plans for the morning.”
“What kind of change?”
“There’s been an emergency,” Hank said, and Mac’s gut clenched harder. “She had to race to the clinic and?—”
“I’m on my way,” Mac said, disconnecting the call as he slammed on his brakes. Tires squealed, and a car behind him honked as Mac hauled ass for the volunteer veterinary clinic, Hank’s voice echoing in his ears.
There’s been an emergency .
Dammit, he should have asked more questions. He’d have answers soon enough. He pushed the pedal to the floor, handling the curves in the road like a NASCAR driver.
You swore you’d never let it happen again. If something happens to her because of you ? —
He screeched into a parking spot and jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He marched into the clinic like a man possessed, hoping she was okay, hoping she hadn’t been in a car accident or gotten food poisoning or a hangnail. Jesus, what if she?—
“Retraction,” commanded a familiar voice.
Mac rounded the corner into the newly built surgery suite and froze.
“Let’s get some lavage going here.”
His brain took a ridiculous amount of time processing the image of Kelli at the head of the operating table. She wore a blue surgical mask over her mouth and nose, latex gloves on her hands, and a full surgical gown tied in back over what appeared to be a?—
“Is that a wedding dress?” Mac blurted.
Kelli looked up, her turquoise eyes meeting his over the top of her protective eyewear. “Hi, honey,” she called cheerfully, despite the grim set of her face. “Can’t talk right now, gotta focus on this bowel obstruction.”
She dropped her eyes back to the table, where a large mutt was sprawled unconscious, tongue lolling to one side.
“We got the call at the bridal salon.” He turned to see Anna sidling up beside him, nodding toward the table where Kelli worked. “The dog belongs to one of the vet techs. I guess their normal veterinarian is out of town ‘til afternoon.”
“What happened?” he asked, moving around the table so he could see her from the front. He was disappointed to discover the surgical gown covered the front of the dress completely.
Is it low cut? Is it silky? Is it hot in here?
“Bowel obstruction,” Anna said. “Pretty common, but dangerous. Apparently the dog has a fondness for panties.”
“Don’t we all,” he muttered, his eyes still fixed on Kelli as he moved to the side for a better view.
“I hope you’re not in the habit of eating them like Diablo here,” Kelli called, her brow creased as she focused on her work.
God, she was beautiful. Especially in that dress, never mind the unflattering medical garb. The view from behind was spectacular, the satin hugging her curves and showcasing that spectacular ass beneath the tie on the surgical gown.
“Is the dog going to be okay?” Mac asked.
“Too soon to tell,” said a man in blue scrubs. He was clutching the hand of a worried-looking brunette, and Mac deduced they must be the dog’s owners.
“Diablo always chews on my underthings,” she sniffed. “I’ve been so good about keeping the lid down on the hamper, but I guess he must have gotten in somehow.”
“Let’s bump up the anesthesia.” Kelli set aside a pair of oddly angled scissors that looked like a medieval torture device. “Feels like it’s running a little too light. I’m going to try to squeeze the foreign body through the intestine now. If we’re lucky, we can avoid having to resect the GI tract.”
“Dr. Landers has a lot of experience with this sort of surgery,” the dog’s owner whispered. “That’s why we called her.”
Mac nodded, not sure if he was more surprised to hear her referred to as Dr. Landers, or to see his sweet, docile bride up to her elbows in blood and intestines, looking calm and competent and in command.
Why the hell is this sexy?
Mac turned back to Anna. “Is there a reason she’s uh— wearing a wedding gown?”
“We couldn’t get it off. The zipper got caught, and Kelli loved the dress too much to let us cut her out of it. Now we just have to hope she doesn’t get blood on it.”
“Got it,” Kelli said, pulling a foul-looking mass from the dog’s belly and depositing it in a silver bowl. “Let’s push three hundred milligrams of cefazolin, please. Can someone hand me some three-ott PDS suture?”
“Jesus,” Mac growled.
“She’s good,” Anna said. “You’ve seen her work before?”
He hesitated, not sure what the right answer should be for a supposed fiancé. Given the awestruck look he knew was plastered to his face, the truth seemed the best way to go.
“Never,” he said. “Not like this.”
“Did you know she’s published three different cases in the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association ?”
“Yes,” Mac said. He’d read that information in her file, of course. “But I had no idea what it meant.”
“Well now you know,” Anna said, beaming proudly as she tucked a chunk of purple-streaked hair behind her ear.
“Now I know,” Mac said and wondered if they were still talking about veterinary surgery.
“There,” Kelli said, stepping back slightly. “We’ve got the incision in the intestine closed. Let’s check for leakage and give it a little lavage before we close the body wall.” She turned to the dog’s owners and smiled. “You got lucky this time. Might want to be a little more careful with these in the future.”
She reached into the silver bowl and unraveled a pair of red, lacy panties, dangling them from one finger. Then she picked up some sort of oblong silver object, smooth and rounded on the ends. She flicked a button and the object began buzzing in her hand.
“Oh,” Mac said, realization dawning as Kelli flicked off the bullet-shaped vibrator.
She grinned and gave him a wink. “Gotta love the power of Duracell.”
Mac looked at the panties, wondering if they’d started out crotchless or if the dog rendered them that way. He turned to the dog’s owners to offer some words of encouragement and saw the woman glaring daggers at the man.
“I have never owned either of those things in my entire life,” she snapped.
Mac winced and looked back at Kelli. She met his eye, her expression perfectly composed and professional.
“Well,” she said. “I take it you won’t be needing these back?”
An hour later, Kelli found herself sitting shotgun in Mac’s black car with her wedding gown piled around her. “Definitely not the first time I’ve pulled panties out of a dog’s GI tract,” Kelli said, stretching her legs out. “But that’s the first time they’ve become evidence in a divorce case.”
“You were amazing in there.”
“Thanks,” Kelli said, beaming. She noticed a hint of surprise in his voice, and wasn’t sure what to make of it. She looked down at her dress and fluffed the satin. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“Very. Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her gown before the wedding?”
“Since there won’t be a wedding, I think we’re safe.”
He didn’t say anything right away, and Kelli fiddled uncomfortably with a seed pearl. “Don’t worry about me wearing it to Zapata’s house tomorrow. Anna’s sending someone to the house to get it off me shortly.”
“I wasn’t worried.” He glanced at her, his expression unreadable behind the dark glasses. “You were really good in there. Impressive.”
“Thanks. I’ve been doing this awhile.” She sighed and stretched her neck, which was full of kinks from a morning spent hunched over the operating table. “Anything I should know about tomorrow’s dinner with Zapata? Any briefs I need to read, or memos I should consult?”
“Just be yourself,” he murmured distractedly. Then he looked at her, seemingly startled by his own words. “I’m not entirely sure I know who that is.”
“What do you mean?”
He was studying her so intensely, he seemed to have forgotten he was in control of a moving vehicle. “Mac? Uh, the road?”
“Right.” He snapped his attention back to driving, but still seemed distracted. “When you meet Zapata and his wife, just be sweet, elegant, and as quiet as possible. Let me handle the talking. And don’t let Griselda bait you. She’ll probably try to get a rise out of you.”
“Got it. I probably need to go dress shopping before the dinner party. Is there something special you want me to wear?”
“A wiretap.”
“I meant dresses.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “There’s a whole closet full of things in the primary bedroom. I ordered everything in your size. I was going to have Maria move them over last night after you decided to stay in the guest room, but then you fell asleep.”
“Sorry about that.” Kelli bit her lip. “Did anyone ask questions about us not sharing a room?”
“I told them you’re very traditional, and that you think it’s bad luck for the bride and groom to share a bed a month before their wedding.”
“We’re getting married next month?”
“Sure, why not?”
Why not , Kelli thought, and stared out the window, feeling jittery all of a sudden.
“I think we should postpone it,” she said.
“Postpone it?”
“The wedding. That seems way too soon.”
Mac was silent in the driver’s seat. “You do remember we aren’t really getting married? This whole arms deal will be wrapped up long before that anyway.”
“I know,” Kelli said, not sure why she felt so jumpy. She turned to look at him, and caught her panic-filled reflection in his sunglasses. She swallowed and pressed on. “I just don’t feel ready.”
“Ready for a fake wedding?”
Kelli nodded, balling her hands into fists in the wedding gown. “Maybe in two months. Or three. Or even longer. I’ve heard of engagements lasting a year or more, and I just think?—”
“Kelli.”
“What?”
“I promise I’m not planning to drag you to the altar by the hair, nor am I secretly plotting to get you drunk and arrange a Vegas ceremony performed by a team of Elvis impersonators.”
“Is that going in our wedding vows?”
Mac looked at her again, his expression softening. “I can’t believe this.”
“What?”
“You’re terrified of marriage.”
She looked up at the ceiling of the car. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Marriage—a lifelong commitment between two people?” He furrowed his brow. “Or a week-long commitment between two celebrities. Whatever. The point is that you’re afraid of it.”
“Am not.”
“Are, too.”
“Am not.”
“Are, too.” He grimaced. “Jesus, we sound like six-year- olds.”
“Or married people.”
Mac shook his head and turned the car onto a narrow side street. “Is that what this is about? You equate marriage with bickering and blame?”
“No. That’s not it.”
“Well what is it then?”
She bit her lip, hesitating. Was there really any reason he needed to know? Commitment-phobia wasn’t really her problem, but her gripping fear of abandonment had nothing to do with this business relationship. Not if they kept emotion out of the equation, which they’d both pledged to do.
She took a breath and forced her voice to stay steady. “I just think our story will be more believable if we slow things down a little,” she said. “That Zapata’s men will be suspicious if we rush things.”
Mac slid into a parking spot in front of a low-slung stucco building and braked into a parking spot. He turned to look at her, and Kelli bit her lip.
“I don’t believe for an instant that you give a shit what Zapata’s men think,” he said slowly. “I do think you’re terrified of marriage, or maybe just commitment. It’s fine with me either way, since I have no intention of ever doing either. Now can we just put a timeline on this fake engagement and be done with it?”
Kelli nodded, squirming under the intensity of his stare, which was still masked by those damn sunglasses. “Fine. Six weeks. That way if something goes wrong?—”
“Nothing will go wrong.”
“—if there are any hitches in the plan,” she said with an eye roll, “we won’t really be expected to get hitched.”
“Fine. Now turn around.”
The abruptness of the command startled her so much she complied without thinking, offering him her back.“What for?”
“So I can help you.”
She felt his hands graze her bare back above the fabric of the wedding dress, and her whole body began to hum with pleasure. He lifted her hair, baring her neck and the tops of her shoulders. His breath fanned her skin, and she shivered. “Oh,” she gasped as his fingers moved against her spine.
She couldn’t tell what he was doing, but she hoped he did it for a very long time.
“Definitely very sticky,” he murmured, his mouth closer to her neck than she’d realized. “Luckily, there’s a little extra room in here.”
He moved one palm over her shoulder, stroking the sensitive flesh at the curve of her neck. Then he moved his hand down, fingertips brushing the tops of her breasts. She gasped as he slid one finger between them, stroking lightly. His breath was warm against her neck, and he skimmed his lips over the back of her ear.
Kelli moaned and closed her eyes, melting into the sensation of Mac’s hands everywhere at once. He had two fingers between her breasts now, a tight squeeze that left her squirming to feel more of him. He curled the tip of one finger beneath her breast, caressing the soft underside as his teeth grazed the nape of her neck. She arched into him, breathing hard now as Mac stroked her, the pad of his finger just inches from her nipple.
She gasped again as his right hand moved against her back, nudging her forward so her breasts spilled into his left palm. He squeezed softly, his fingers nimble and confident as he stroked and teased. Kelli gripped the door handle whimpered, wanting to feel those fingers everywhere at once. She pictured them moving between her legs, slipping inside her, probing her soft, wet?—
“There,” he said and pulled his hand from her dress. Kelli blinked. “What?”
“I fixed the zipper. You just needed a little…adjusting.”
She turned in her seat and gaped at him. “You groped me to unzip my dress?”
“Usually I unzip a dress before I commence groping. Understandably, I had to alter my technique.”
He gave her a satisfied grin and adjusted his sunglasses. It was obvious he knew he’d gotten to her, and part of her wanted to punch him for looking so smug.
Most of her just wanted his hands on her again.
Before she could reach for him, he reached for the car door instead.
“Now that you’re taken care of, I need to run inside and grab a gun.”
“A gun? What, are you robbing the place?”
“No. If I were robbing the place, I would have said I was grabbing a gun and running inside.”
“Good point.” Kelli licked her lips, still dazed from the feel of his hands on her body.
“It’s a gun shop,” he said. “I’m just picking up a pistol I had serviced. You want to wait here, or come inside?”
“I’ll wait here. I need a few minutes to uh—compose myself.”
“That’s probably best. I’d rather not have to explain why I’m bringing a woman in a wedding gown into a gun shop.”
“A wedding gown that’s likely to fall off, now that you’ve loosened the zipper.”
“Pity I won’t be able to see that.” He smiled. “I’ll be back in two minutes. Hank’s parked right over there if you need anything.”
With one last self-satisfied grin, he got out of the car and locked the door behind him.
Kelli settled back into her seat and looked around. Mac had left the keys in the ignition to keep the air-conditioning running, so it wasn’t really hot. Still, the surrounding area looked parched. Parched and hot and a little sketchy. A massive cactus hunched on the side of the road with one branch bent, looking like a drunk guy with a broken arm. In front of the building next to the gun shop, a trash bin overflowed with scraps of food and plastic bottles of laundry detergent and soda. A mangy dog scurried past and sniffed the bin, looking for scraps.
Kelli peered at the dog, looking for injuries or anything that might require her aid. She was so focused on studying the dog she didn’t see the man approach the car.
And it wasn’t until he put a gun to the windshield that she realized she might be in trouble.