Heather's Gift Page 11

  “Dammit, I thought she liked me now,” Sam muttered to Brock as the other man shook his head, obviously fighting to contain his laughter.

  “I love you, Sam,” Sarah soothed with grinning patience. “But I know you too well.”

  Heather watched as she stopped beside Brock, her dark blonde coloring a pretty contrast to Brock’s dark, brooding good looks. His arm went around her, and Heather glimpsed in his eyes the overwhelming love that filled him. It never ceased to amaze her, the relationships that had evolved within this family.

  Cade and Sam watched her with fondness as Brock placed a kiss on her forehead. Her head met his shoulder, making her the perfect height, in Heather’s opinion, for her tall husband. Marly was several inches shorter and would have only stood as tall as Cade’s chest.

  “I need a shower. Excuse me.” Heather couldn’t rage at the brothers over their lust while Sarah was around. It was just too weird. The dynamics within this family was unsettling at the best of times.

  “Heather.” Sarah’s voice stopped as she made to skirt around the family.

  Heather stopped, staring at the other woman suspiciously.

  “The next time Sam takes his pleasure without returning it to you would be a good time to show him what teeth can really do,” she said gently as she touched the corner of her own lip, and Heather felt her face flame in embarrassed fury.

  She sliced an accusing look at the offender as she reached up, touching the corner of her lips and felt the small bit of evidence of his pleasure. She could feel herself shaking, trembling, so angry now she could have shot him with no remorse if she thought she would get away with it.

  “You know,” she bit out, staring him in the eye, ignoring the dark hint of remorse in his gaze. “It’s a good fucking thing I’m paid to protect your ass. Otherwise, I’d save your stalker the trouble and kill you myself.”

  She pushed by him, moving quickly up the steps as she heard Sam curse with violent heat. A shower, definitely, she thought. A cold one. A very cold one. If she didn’t cool down the flames of anger burning in the pit of her stomach, she may very well kill him anyway.

  * * * * *

  Sarah found Marly stretched out comfortably beside the pool, her slender body clad in the dark blue thong of her swimsuit, though the top was missing. Marly was almost hedonistic in her worship of the sun, the water and her lovers. In the months Sarah had known her, she had learned Marly’s enormous depths of love, as well as her maturity for one so young.

  Accepting the lifestyle the August brothers shared hadn’t been easy for Sarah. If it hadn’t been for Marly’s acceptance of it, and of her, Sarah knew she would have never made it through the transition. She loved Brock, more than she had ever believed possible, and though he had helped her to understand the needs of her own body, it had been Marly who had helped her understand and sort out the confusion that came with it. Her acceptance and understanding of the brothers never failed to amaze Sarah.

  “Aren’t you afraid the bodyguards will peek?” Sarah sat down on the end of the lounge chair, watching as Marly grinned.

  Heavy lidded against the bright rays of the sun, her eyes opened as amusement glittered in the dark blue orbs.

  “Naw, Cade would kill them.” Her voice was lazy, slumberous.

  Sarah looked up at the hill behind the pool. Brock had told her that the stalker had once hidden there, taking pictures of Marly and spying on her. The base of that small rise was now heavily guarded with a team of Rick’s best men through the day. Specially trained dogs roamed the pine-wooded area there, and kept assurance high that it wouldn’t be used again for that purpose.

  Sarah sighed, then turned back to Marly.

  “Sam took a page out of Cade’s book. Instead of the barn, he used the stables though,” she said softly.

  Marly was quiet, though her brow tightened in a frown as she sat up on the lounge chair. Pulling a silk robe from the back of the chair, she slipped it on slowly.

  “What happened?” she finally asked.

  Sarah pushed her fingers through her hair and blew out roughly. “When she stomped into the house she was madder than hell and confronted all three of them.”

  Marly grimaced. “Sam shouldn’t have done that,” she sighed. “It’s going to put everyone on edge.”

  Everyone was already on edge.

  “They want her, Marly.”

  Marly sighed, propping her elbow on her knee and cupping her chin in the palm of her hand.

  “You upset?” she asked softly.

  Sarah sighed. “No, not upset…” She stopped, wondering what she did feel and unable to put a name to it. “I don’t know, maybe upset. It wasn’t so bad last week, but the closer Sam gets to her, the closer Brock does.”

  “That’s an answer.” Marly’s soft laugh had Sarah grinning in agreement. “I know how you felt now, in a way. But I know how Heather feels, too. And Sam isn’t making it easy on her. He keeps her aroused with no satisfaction in sight.”

  Marly’s gaze brightened. Sarah frowned. The other woman had that scheming look on her face. The one that worried the men through sleepless nights when they saw it.

  “What are you up to?” Sarah asked her suspiciously.

  “Well, I know she has toys.” Marly smiled conspiratorially. “But she was only able to bring the one,” she pointed out.

  “She was?” Sarah lifted her brows, wondering how in the hell Marly came up with the information she often had.

  “Well, remember, until her attack, and coming straight here from the hospital, she didn’t use the house much?” Marly crossed her legs, the epitome of the graceful lady. If one discounted the conversation she was carrying.

  “Okay, I can see why just one toy.” Sarah nodded, then frowned again as she shook her head. She had to ask. “Which kind of toy?”

  Marly grinned playfully. “I thought you would never ask. She only brought her Pocket Rocket. Small, light, easy to hide, but not really practical for the pressure she’s under now.”

  Sarah nodded, though she felt like shaking her head in wonder. “How do you know this?”

  “Oh, I heard her and Tara arguing when Tara caught her trying to order something on the company laptop. “ Marly shrugged, her lips quirking in a smile. “Now, we have all that stuff those men bought for us a few months ago, still sitting in all their boxes. I say we take her a few gifts. Since Sam is being so stingy with her right now.”

  That wicked look owed little to Marly’s sweet nature. The look spelled trouble for whichever of the brothers she was out to get at the moment.

  “I don’t know, Marly. Sam’s pretty bad off right now.” But like Marly, Sarah figured he needed to be shaken up just a little bit more. That darkness in Sam needed to be soothed—or freed—she wasn’t certain which.

  “So, Heather can make him worse.” Marly lifted her brow mockingly. “With a little help from us, of course.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Be waiting on him! Heather tossed the letter she had quickly scribbled to him on her pillow and then slipped quickly from the bedroom. Her anger had built through the day. Sam’s autocratic order and his brothers’ self assurance that she would willingly fall into his arms irked her pride more than she wanted to admit.

  Sam seemed to think that because he wanted it, then things were going to automatically go his way. She didn’t think so. She admitted to herself though, that she had really wanted to be waiting on him there. That she would have gladly let him restrain her, let him do whatever his kinky little mind could come up with. The sharing thing was too much, though. The confusion building inside her where it was concerned was causing her more sleepless nights than she wanted to admit.

  The few confrontations with his brothers had filled her with conflicting emotions. They were growing on her, and she hated it. Her dreams were being infected with the misty images of the three brothers, their lips and hands touching her, holding her, as thick cocks pushed into her untried body.

  She shivered
as she slipped into the dark silence of the night. They looked too much like Sam. They were too alike, and yet too different inside. They were caring of Marly and Sarah. Damned indulgent, in her opinion. At the rate things were going, she would be the one cooking in that damned house out of desperation. She was getting hungry for more than the meager fare she was being offered. A girl got tired of soup and sandwiches eventually.

  She moved slowly through the pool area until she reached her assigned post for the night. The lounge chair had been placed beneath several thickly leafed trees; beside it laid a pair of night vision binoculars to use on the high hill behind the house. There had been evidence of movement on the far boundary the night before, though no one was certain if it was human or animal. To be on the safe side, Rick wanted someone in position to watch the area that offered access to the house.

  Personally, Heather thought a few tons of dynamite and a couple of bulldozers could have done the job better. Take that baby down, end of problem. She nodded to herself as she sat down on the end of the lounger, sighing wearily as the bodyguard covering until she got there moved from her post along the other end.

  “It’s quiet tonight.” Helena’s voice was soft, reflective. “I love nights like this.”

  The other woman was older, but nice in a quiet sort of way. Heather had watched her mother the other agents for months. She had heard Helena even cooked for the crew in the bunkhouse. Dammit, she was getting desperate.

  “Yeah. It’s beautiful,” she finally agreed. “Gives you plenty of room to think in, too.”

  A soft chuckle greeted her words. “I heard one of the August boys say the same thing. Sammy, I think it was. He told Rick he needed room to think in one night when he was caught sneaking out.”

  Heather smirked. Sam wouldn’t like knowing the nickname was catching on.

  “Hopefully, we can keep him contained a little bit longer,” she chuckled, then sobered. “He’s getting antsy, though.”

  “Yeah, he’s the wild one of the bunch all right,” Helena laughed. “Tara cusses him daily.”

  “When she’s not cursing Raider, you mean?” Heather shook her head. Tara and the other agent seemed at odds more often than not.

  “Rick better be getting rid of that one,” Helena sighed. “He has his eye on Tara, you watch and see. He’s trouble. Always sneakin’ around and watching everyone besides the Augusts. That boy’s too nosy.”

  The other woman sounded exasperated with Raider’s antics, but the comment caused Heather to pause. This was the first she had heard of any of the other agents not concentrating on their job. Especially Raider. With the information Dillon had given them, it wasn’t looking good for the other agent.

  “Raider’s always been different,” Heather murmured, making a mental note to say something to Rick about this.

  “Yeah, he’s a strange one, all right.” Helena shrugged. “Well, I’m headed to the front. Rick wanted me out there for a few hours while he took care of some things in the RV. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Later, Helena.” Heather nodded, her thoughts still on Raider.

  She wouldn’t have suspected him of not doing his job, but she admitted as she thought about it, that he seemed more secretive than usual, quieter, darker than he had been when she first met him. That wouldn’t have seemed possible at the time, but Heather admitted it was true. Raider seemed angrier now, rather than just broodingly quiet.

  She sighed deeply. She couldn’t image one of their agents was actually the person stalking the Augusts. Raider had been on personal time during the trouble with Marly and with Sarah, but he had been with them during the Stewart assignment, a time when Marly had been home, and he could have met up with her.

  She nibbled at her fingernail thoughtfully. If it was Raider, then catching him wouldn’t be easy. It would be damned hard. He was smart, smarter than most of the other agents with several years of SEALs training behind him. It was one of the reasons Rick had taken him on when he came to the agency. Raider was damned smart, and good at what he did. Covert ops had been his specialty, with particular emphasis on assassinations. She shuddered in dread. If it was he, then their problems had just multiplied. He wouldn’t be easy to catch, and she knew Rick and Tara. They trusted him, trusted him too much for the short time they had known him.

  She breathed out deeply then nibbled at her lower lip as she picked up the night vision binoculars and brought them to her eyes. Directing the lenses to the hill outside the pool area, she searched it carefully. It was the only weak spot on the property. The one place he could hide and watch, wait for the opportunity, for the perfect chance to get off a clear shot.

  The doors and windows in the house now held the latest in bullet resistant glass, but there was still artillery that could penetrate it. Nothing was fool proof. And the bastard wanted Sam. Her heart clenched. Could she bear it if anything happened to him? If he was taken from her forever?

  She couldn’t. She loved him, regardless of the complications it brought and the nights she was spending agonizing over it. She loved him. Now, if she could just help heal him, and somehow, someway, love him enough to help him to let go of the past, and his brothers’ lovers.

  Chapter Twenty

  “I truly meant to be here as you ordered. Satisfying your every wish is, of course, my fondest desire. Alas, I was called away. I am certain you can find other ways to amuse yourself though. If nothing else, use your hand!”

  The sarcasm in the letter wasn’t easy to miss. Sam’s eyes narrowed as an involuntary grin tugged at his lips. He raised the scented paper to his nose, inhaled and closed his eyes as nostalgia and hot, searing lust washed over him.

  Windsong. It had been many, many years since he had smelled that particular scent. Damn, it had been even longer since he had heard of it. The smell of her perfume sent a shaft of bittersweet longing through his soul. He had been a teenager the last time he had smelled it. And none too impressed with the romance of the scent. Now, it touched him, as few things had in the past years.

  He folded the letter carefully, took a last lingering smell of it, then tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans. He looked around the room with narrowed eyes. Of course, he wasn’t about to let her get away with this.

  Use his hand, he snorted silently. He had been using his damned hand too often in the past months. The memory of the stables, Heather on her knees, his cock tunneling into her mouth, overtook him. Okay, twice he hadn’t used his hand, and he wasn’t about to use it now. The first being months ago, beneath the rays of a full moon as she kissed her way down his body. Tara had, of course, walked up on them not seconds after he shot his release down Heather’s throat. Her fury, and Heather’s chagrin, had been thick in the heavy silence of the night.

  He looked around the room, wondering where the hell she could be. He knew she had come up here after dinner. Knew she must have found the brown paper sack he had left, with very complete instructions on what to do and how to be waiting for him. She evidently wasn’t taking him seriously.

  But she would, he assured himself. As soon as he found her she would learn exactly how serious he was. He turned and strode quickly from the room. Closing the door carefully behind him, he glanced down the hallway. The rest of the family was in the living room, enjoying the rare movie that they took time to watch. He had seen them not ten minutes ago, and Heather hadn’t been with them.

  He moved down the stairs, determined to check again anyway, just to be on the safe side. She wasn’t there. Cade and Brock had their women stretched out on the couches with them, watching the flickering screen silently. Marly looked worn and sleeping. Sarah didn’t look much more awake. They were dressed in short silk nighties, their robes pooled on the floor. He had a damned good idea that his brothers had satisfied their own raging hungers earlier. Hell’s fire, he cursed silently, where could she be?

  He stalked to the front door, careful to turn out the entryway light before he stepped out on the front porch.

  “Sa
m.” Rick moved within the shadows on the far end of the porch as Sam stepped behind the concealing pine shrubbery that had been planted in front of the wide cement landing months before.

  “Where is she?” He didn’t have time to argue or to beat around the bush. His cock was a raging brand beneath his jeans, his blood pounding with his need.

  Rick tensed, his muscular body coming to instant alert.

  “She’s on duty. That means she doesn’t have time to play,” Rick snapped out.

  Sam frowned. “This ranch pays her fucking salary. I say she’s off tonight.”

  His voice was just as harsh as Rick’s now. There were few things he had needed in his life like he needed Heather now.

  “Don’t pull this shit on me, Sam,” Rick growled. “She’s part of the force. I need her to work sometimes, you know.”

  Sam pushed his fingers restlessly through his hair. Rick wasn’t just an employee, he was a friend. That made the whole situation a hell of a lot harder.

  “Dammit, Rick. I need her.” He fought the weary vulnerability in his own soul. “She ran from me because she was pissed off. Now tell me where she’s at or I’ll go looking for her.”

  Silence thickened between them. Even in the dim light of the moon, Sam could see Rick’s impatience, his indecision.

  “You’re a menace to yourself,” he finally snarled back. “She’s out back, around the pool. She’s providing backup if it’s needed.”

  “Make damned sure it’s not needed then,” Sam bit out, turning on his heel and stalking along the large porch that wrapped around the house.

  At the back corner, a high stone wall protected the pool area and back garden. It rose higher than his head and sheltered the pool area from the eyes of the ranch hands while they worked. Cade had ordered it built when Marly was barely sixteen, and he saw how the area filled with men while she used the pool.