Chapter 8 #2
“Shall I tell you who I am?” she asked, angry, defiant and sad all at once.
“I am single, my parents died when I was I seven, I have been in Australia for almost ten years, even when I was living in the orphanage in Germany I wanted to be a cop and I have a weakness for broken men.” She slid her hand higher up his thigh, her knuckles brushing the swell of his crotch before slipping back down to his knee.
“I will fix you, Peter. Let me in, trust me and I will fix it all.” Her lips parted in a soft breath and she twisted in her seat, studying him with smoldering intensity.
“Let me help you,” she murmured, leaning slightly toward him, her warm breath kissing the side of his neck, his jaw, sending libidinous pleasure through his body.
He stared out through the windscreen, the surrounding traffic and Sydney itself gone, the world narrowed down to the growing tension in his groin and the thought of Yolanda in his arms…
“Let me help you, Peter. Let me help you find Regan.”
His sister’s name was a shard of ice stabbing straight into his gut. He glared at Yolanda, the blaring horns and sweltering heat of reality crashing over him in crushing, contemptuous force. “Why are you so interested in my sister?” he demanded through gritted teeth.
Yolanda stared at him, face unreadable. Her lips parted…
And his cell phone rang.
Infuriated impatience tore through him. He snatched the device from his jacket pocket, refusing to take his eyes from Yolanda’s. “Detective Thomas,” he snapped.
“Detective,” a familiar voice said on the other end. “This is Sydney City Dispatch. Your sister’s left a message for you.”
Peter’s heart slammed into his chest and for a moment everything felt frozen. “Yes?”
“It’s in a private residence in McMahon’s Point,” Dispatch said. “Detective Huddart from North Sydney Command is waiting for you there.”
Regan tried not to feel the luxury surrounding her.
The stolen Jag purred north along the freeway, eating up the miles like an animal on the trail of prey both sweet and fast. The leather seat hugged her hips and back, the cool air-conditioned air kissed her bare limbs and cheeks and the mellow sounds of Miles Davis emanated from the speakers with such deep clarity her skin rippled with shivers.
If she closed her eyes, it would be too easy to imagine she was heading to a secluded resort up the coast for a relaxing weekend away with her sultry, new lover.
But she couldn’t close her eyes. Not when Declan looked so pale. She frowned at him. “You need help.”
He grinned, looking far too at ease behind the wheel of the stolen sports car, despite the pallor to his skin and the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “What kind of help?”
“You’re not well. You need to see a doctor.”
Declan chuckled. “And what kind of doctor would you be having me see, love? An animal doctor?”
Regan glared at him, a faint blush heating her cheeks.
“So, it’s perfectly okay for you to risk your life to keep me safe, but when I make an educated statement you make fun of me?
” She turned back to the window, watching low, rolling hills pass beside her in a green blur. “I don’t like you, Declan O’Connell.”
Declan chuckled again. “Yes you do.”
Regan ignored him. Well, tried to. Her body was way too attuned to his presence, her heart too entangled with his.
The blush in her cheeks growing hotter, she turned from the window and cocked an eyebrow at him.
“So, your plan is to keep driving north until we get to where? Queensland? Will you see a doctor then?”
“Love, a doctor would run screaming from the room if he took a look at me. You know that. You’ve done it yourself a few times already.”
“Declan, you look terrible.”
It was a lie. He looked gorgeous. As dangerously sensual as ever.
The clothes he’d “borrowed” this time suited him, the expensive, black designer jeans, black leather boots and a black polo shirt seemingly made for him.
If it weren’t for the sweaty forehead and pale skin she’d have thought him as healthy as ever.
Declan laughed. “You really know how to make a man feel good about himself, do you know that?”
She narrowed her eyes. The laugh was loud and totally at ease. But it also seemed controlled. Like he was holding it for some reason. “You’re being stupid,” she stated. “I spend every day working with animals in pain. I know you’re trying to hide it from me.”
Another laugh burst from Declan’s lips, this one louder. “So, you’ve finally admitted what I am. Guess it was a vet you were talking about taking me to, after all.”
Regan gaped at him. She wanted to slap him. Or hold him. “Watch it,” she snapped, “or I’ll be asking him to neuter you.”
Declan laughed again, the rich sound a perfect foil to the bluesy trumpet tones wafting from the car’s sound system. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Regan Thomas.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “Are all Australian women as prickly as you?”
“Only ones abducted by Irish werewolves with a hero complex.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You know, you’re not doing much to dispel the old Irish stereotype here.”
“And what stereotype would that be? That all Irishmen are amazing lovers?”
Regan felt her cheeks fill with heat. She rolled her eyes—both at Declan’s statement and the way her pussy fluttered and pulse quickened at the thought of his sexual prowess.
“No,” she shot back, forcing her rapacious response away.
She was not in love with him, damn it! She wasn’t.
“The stereotype that deals with an Irishman’s intelligence.
” She folded her arms and tilted her chin.
“Not getting medical care is just plain stupid.”
“Aah, that stereotype. Just be calling me Paddy then, love.”
Regan threw up her hands, exasperated to screaming point. She turned to her window and watched the eucalypts blur by. What did she do now? Knock him out the same way he had her?
She shot him a surreptitious look.
She’d laid out more than one male in her life—Peter had copped more than one punch to the jaw as they were growing up—but something told her Declan’s jaw wouldn’t succumb to mere human physics.
Besides, she knew how he drove. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was doing less than ninety miles an hour at the moment.
She wanted him to get medical care—not put them both in an ER. She needed a different tactic.
Letting her lips curl into a seductive smile, she leant toward him, flitting her palm up his thigh. “I can think of another reason to pull over.”
Declan burst out laughing, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Oh, lovey. As tempting as the offer is…I’m not that stupid.”
Regan pulled her hand away. Well, tried to.
Declan’s fingers closed around hers before she broke contact, threading through them to hold her hand exactly where it had been on his thigh.
She scowled at him. And at the sudden urge to inch her hand higher up the muscled hardness of his leg to the bulge of his crotch.
“Yes you are that stupid.” She gave a pathetic, little tug against his hold.
“If you won’t let me help you, that’s exactly how stupid you are. ”
“Ha! You’re a fine one to be lecturing me on receiving help. I’ve been kicked and thumped by you more times than I can recall since I started trying to help you.”
Regan stared at him. Laughter laced his words and his fingers melded so perfectly with hers for a moment she wanted to lean over and kiss him deeply. “OK, Paddy,” she said instead. “What is your plan? I think you owe me that much. At least give me a say in what we’re going to do next.”
Regan thought she saw a bleakness tighten his features seconds before he smiled at her. “I’ve always wanted to see the Great Barrier Reef.”
“You’re not serious?”
Declan’s grey gaze fell on her. His expression was serious, but Regan suspected it had nothing to do with the fourth natural wonder of the world.
“Here’s the thing, Regan,” he said calmly.
“We can’t run forever. Every second you’re with me, you’re in danger.
Every second Epoc’s alive, you’re in danger.
The only way I can keep you safe is to remove Epoc from the equation.
” His fingers closed more snugly around hers and his eyes shimmered silver. “I can’t do that if you’re with me.”
Regan’s mouth went dry. “So, you’re planning to do what?”
He shook his head and turned back to the road. “I’m assuming you left a note for your brother back in the mansion?”
Regan started at the unexpected question. “Why…?”
“Because he’s your brother,” Declan answered without looking at her. “Because you love him, trust him.”
Regan licked her lips, unsure what to say.
“I knew you would. But it complicates things.”
“In what way?”
“I told you earlier, Regan. Epoc owns the cops.”
A sharp snort of disbelief shot from Regan’s nose. “You think Peter’s one of Epoc’s lackeys? You truly are stupid.”
Dark grey eyes flicked to her. “Not Peter.”
Regan blinked at Declan’s calm statement. The sound of an unfamiliar, arrogantly poised female on the other end of a phone connection echoed in her head and her heart thumped into her throat. Oh, God. Was Pete in danger now too? “What do you mean? Is my brother—”
Declan shook his head. “I don’t know, Regan. But I’m not the trusting type. I have to take you somewhere no one will find you. Not until I’m finished with Epoc.”
“And what? Lock me up? Chain me to a wall?”
Stiff silence answered her incredulous question.
“You’re not serious?” Regan asked. Again.
“I lost Maggie to Epoc. I’m not losing you too.”
“Lose me? Am I property now?”
Declan’s eyes flashed with impatient irritation. “You know what I mean.”
Regan tugged her hand from his grasp and folded her arms across her chest. “Excuse the cliché, Paddy, but I do know how to take care of myself.”