Taken Page 39

Casey had brought her the boots the night before, claiming he felt the newly designed heel would be more secure than her purse for hiding the flash drives she carried to her father twice a week.

  The tiny chamber was waterproof and it would be impossible to detect the drive using any electronic means, he assured her.

  He’d acted positively protective, and for a second, just a second, she’d wondered if she had been wrong, if he felt something more for her than simply lust.

  “Can’t have those drives getting lost or stolen if some yahoo decides to grab your purse.” He’d shrugged then. “I hate wasting my time.”

  And her hopes had plummeted.

  Dammit.

  She’d thought by now he would have at least shown a few emotions besides worry over the damned flash drives.

  The information on them was imperative, she knew. The tracking of terrorists, both homeland and overseas, was imperative. Drug and weapons runners and any other criminal element that walked through the doors of the bar were fair game.

  Every customer was photographed the second they entered and, using hidden remote cameras, additional pictures could be taken.

  Who they met with, who they danced with, what they did in the parking lot. Rumors, gossip, and drunken bragging were recorded, saved, and then placed on the flash drive to be given to the captain. He then delivered it to the homeland security team assigned to break down the information and investigate as needed.

  It was done quietly, effectively, and it had worked for eight years. Since the day Ethan Cooper had reopened the Broken Bar and brought the proposal to the captain, after he’d learned about the clientele he wouldn’t be able to keep out of it.

  Since that day, the bar had reigned as the only alcoholic establishment allowed within the county limits. The Broken Bar was a favorite among the locals as well as the criminal element. And Ethan Cooper ran the establishment with an iron hand.

  No dealing, drugs or otherwise, was the rule, though they’d recorded it happening often enough.

  The bouncers watched out for the women first, innocent men second, and they were all friends of Cooper’s. Tough, hard-eyed bastards who had been discharged from the army for one reason or another.

  Some honorably.

  Some not so honorably.

  Smoothing the skirt of her short dress, Sheila made her way from the parking spot she’d managed to snag at the side of the building and stepped up to the wood walkway that stretched around the bar.

  The entrance was manned that night by Turk.

  One of those hard-eyed bastards who had been not so honorably discharged.

  “Miss Rutledge.” He nodded as he opened the door for her.

  “Thanks, Turk.” She threw him a quick smile as she moved past him.

  “Casey will be out in a bit, he’s in a meeting with Coop.”

  She almost paused at the bouncer’s announcement. She almost turned around and asked him why she should care. But she knew these men.

  Number one, he wouldn’t tell her what he knew, and there was no doubt he knew something; otherwise, he’d never have said anything.

  Holding her irritation for Casey until later, she moved into the building and headed for the long, gleaming teak bar at the side of the room.

  A band was belting a country-western tune on the other end. The sound of the steel guitar, the lazy sensuality in the singer’s voice, and the sight of the customers swaying on the dance floor were enough to assure her she’d arrived late.

  Everyone had had just enough booze to loosen inhibitions, if any existed, and lead them to the dance floor where they could rub and grind and in some cases even complete the sexual act in the dimmer areas as the sexually charged music seemed to infect them.

  Her father had always warned her to beware of alcohol and slow dancing.

  And he was right.

  She almost grinned at the thought.

  The first night she and Casey had been together, they had danced to a slow, lazy tune after the bar had closed and after they had shared more than one drink.

  Her stomach clenched at the memory of that night.

  There on the bar. He’d turned the cameras off and he’d taken her like a man starved for a woman.

  “Hey, Sheila, you’re blushing.” Sarah Cooper’s brows were arched as she made the accusation teasingly. “What are you thinking about that has your face all red?”

  Hell.

  She was half tempted to turn around and walk out rather than face the warmhearted teasing. She hoped that Casey wasn’t around.

  “Secrets,” Sheila informed her as she took the bar stool one of the bouncers vacated.

  The new guy, Morgan Keane.

  Six feet four and a half inches of power and well-honed muscles. Dark blue eyes and black hair, sun-bronzed skin, and a hardened expression.

  Wearing jeans and a black Broken Bar T-shirt, he looked like a man most men, let alone a woman, would be scared to run into in a back alley.

  The background check her father had done on him had pretty much confirmed that impression. He wasn’t a criminal, and never had been, as far as Captain Rutledge could tell. He was just a man who had treaded a thin line a little close to that element.

  Even worse, and a bigger sin in the captain’s eyes, Morgan Keane hadn’t joined one of the military forces and served his country either.

  He was a hell of a bouncer, and one Sheila knew Cooper was coming to depend upon after less than six months.

  “You are not answering me.” Sarah leaned forward, shy dimples peeking out from her rounded cheeks as she brushed back the incredibly long curls that fell around her.

  “That’s because I don’t want to,” Sheila answered as she leaned forward as well, ignoring the other girl’s playful pout. “Where’s Cooper? He’s supposed to be keeping you out of trouble.”

  “In a meeting with your bed warmer,” Sarah all but whispered as her grin widened. “Tell me, Sheila, how long did you think you would keep it quiet if you dared to challenge Casey as you did?”

  Sheila’s brows lifted. What in the world had Casey told Sarah? It wasn’t like him to tell anyone anything about his private life.

  To say she was shocked he had even let on that they were sleeping together was an understatement.

  Sarah rolled her eyes, almost laughing back at her.

  “His truck has been parked at your house the past two mornings and several of the bar’s customers just happen to be working on your father’s landscaping.”

  Sheila grimaced. She had forgotten about that. She should have thought. There were very few members of the community who hadn’t been in the Broken Bar at one time or another.

  “Oh well, he can deal with it then.” She shrugged as though it didn’t matter when she knew very well it did. She detested being gossiped about. But even worse, she knew for a fact that Casey had broken off relationships with other women for no more reason than the fact that his personal business with them had become public knowledge.

  She didn’t need this.

  She didn’t need to be forced to grapple with her own emotions and fears while wondering who in her father’s employ would dare to gossip about his daughter. Because she knew every damned one of them would. It was the reason why her father employed them.

  How better to stay below suspicion where the wrong men were concerned than by employing the worst gossips in the county? Men and women who knew or worked with the very men that Ethan Cooper and his bouncers watched on a nightly basis.

  “So when did all this begin?” Sarah propped her cheek in her hand as she stared back at Sheila. “Come on. Give deets. Ethan so refuses to allow me to take an interest in his bouncers’ buff bodies.”

  Sheila winced as the bouncer behind the bar, Morgan, stared at his boss’s wife in amazement. He was only seconds from blushing, and Sheila had a feeling he rarely, if ever, blushed.

  “I’m not giving you deets, Sarah,” Sheila informed her, well aware of the fact that the other woman would be horr
ified if she did attempt to do so.

  Sarah pretended to pout before giving Sheila a subtle wink and turning to Morgan once more. “Perhaps Morgan will satisfy our curiosity then.”

  Morgan lifted his gaze from where he was cleaning a whisky glass and stared back at Sarah with an expression of baffled concern. And for the smallest second, Sheila could have sworn she saw something more there.

  Did Ethan Cooper’s new bouncer have a crush on Mrs. Cooper?

  “Curiosity regarding what?” Morgan asked warily.

  Sheila almost laughed. That wasn’t concern. Morgan was bordering on fear. It was one of those rare times anything managed to bother him.

  He was saved at the last second, though, as Casey and Cooper stepped from the office. Cooper took one look at Morgan’s face, then at Sarah’s, and shook his head with a chuckle.

  “Is she causing trouble, Morgan?” Cooper drawled with an edge of laughter.

  Morgan grunted. “She’s dangerous, Coop. You should lock her up for our safety.”

  Sarah smiled back at him sweetly, but Sheila was aware that the other woman had noticed where Casey stopped. And she was very, very curious indeed.

  Because Casey had stopped right behind Sheila.

  Then his arms slid around her and a small kiss was pressed to the top of her head.

  “Evening, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Are you having fun out here with Sarah?”

  She barely managed to hide her shock at the public display of possession. She had never, ever known Nick Casey to show such attachment to any other woman. Neither in public nor a hint of it having been shown in private.

  “Observing Sarah is always fun,” she assured him as she fought to ignore both Sarah and Cooper’s curiosity.

  “I live to entertain,” Sarah sighed, her dimples peeking out again.

  “Then you will live a very long, happy life,” Sheila informed the other woman as she held back her own laugh.

  It was hard to pay attention to the conversation, though, as Casey stood behind her. His hands rested low on her stomach; placed flat, they drew her closer to him, holding her firmly as her back pressed against his torso.

  She could feel the strength and the warmth of him, as well as the sensuality that seemed to wrap around her. Against the small of her back she could feel the jutting arousal contained by his jeans, and in his hands, the firm strength that anchored her to him.

  She had never felt that before with Casey. As though he were trying to seduce her with more than the pleasure he gave her body.

  “Oh yes, Sheila—Cooper and I received our invitations to your father’s barbecue this month. I can’t wait. I hear the Rutledge party is the event of the year,” Sarah stated happily as a glimmer of excitement filled her vivacious blue eyes.

  And Sheila felt a twinge of remorse that she had been unaware Sarah had lived in the county for more than a year before Ethan had finally claimed her. Everyone in the county was invited to the Rutledge barbecue. Catered, rousing, and filled with food and laughter, the yearly party was Douglas Rutledge’s way of giving back to the community his wife had loved.

  It had been their hometown, but it had been Eleanor Rutledge who had wanted to come home when Douglas retired. She had died six months of a heart attack before that retirement.

  “Well, it’s an event, anyway,” Sheila agreed, her smile almost shaking as she felt Casey settle his chin at her shoulder.

  “Do you have a partner for the Rutledge party yet?” he murmured at her ear. “Or the ball?”

  Sheila swallowed tightly.

  The barbecue was her mother’s dream, but the ball a week later was the captain’s baby. Inviting officers of all the military branches as well as political and private sector law enforcement officials. The ball was the captain’s excuse to be more than the stern, supposedly disillusioned army captain whose friends were generals, admirals, and senators.

  It was also his chance to revel, even if privately, in the fact that the job he had accepted while in his prime, the one that had required he remain a captain rather than advancing, was succeeding.

  The position of head of the National Covert Information Network.

  “I don’t have a date yet,” she answered quietly. She had never had a date for her father’s balls unless she did the inviting. She had stopped doing the inviting the summer she turned nineteen. And she’d gone alone ever since.

  “You do now,” Casey informed her as her eyes narrowed on him in the mirror behind the bar.

  He stared back at her, his gaze heavy-lidded, his expression reminding her of the night he had taken her on the bar. That memory was seriously messing with her ability to stay angry with him.

  “Do I really?” she murmured, aware of the fact that Sarah, Ethan, and Morgan were attempting to carry on another conversation despite their rabid curiosity.

  “What do you think?” The look in his eyes dared her to refuse.

  “I think I don’t recall giving the invitation,” she replied smoothly, careful to keep her voice low.

  Casey smiled, his lips curving with cool warning.

  “I don’t wait on an invitation,” he informed her, his tone warning now. “I was informing you, Sheila. You have a date. Period.”

  Oh, now that just wasn’t going to do.

  Sheila turned to him slowly.

  “Choose your fights, sweetheart.” If she wasn’t mistaken, there was a sudden edge of anticipation in his voice. “And choose them wisely.”

  Her mother had warned her of that once as well. She’d told her that one day she would come across a man who didn’t give a damn who her father was, or how strong she had become. He would sweep into her life and leave her heart, her mind, in disarray.

  “Choose your fights, sweetheart, and choose them wisely,” Eleanor had warned her. “Otherwise, you’ll destroy yourself, as well as him, fighting against him.”

  But her mother hadn’t known Nick Casey.

  She was almost anticipating a fight with him, as much as he seemed to be anticipating one with her.

  She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

  Hell, she could feel it radiating in the sexual intensity that suddenly seemed to consume them both.

  “They need to get a room,” Cooper grunted behind Sheila.

  “You are becoming such a fuddy-duddy,” Sarah laughed. “Tell him, Morgan, he’s becoming a prude. Nothing like the wild man I married.”

  Morgan was turning away as she spoke, his expression somber as he poured drinks, his eyes downcast.

  “Sarah, sweetheart, you’re too nosy,” Casey warned her as he laughed back at her, though he didn’t release Sheila, and it seemed he had no intentions of doing so.

  “And you are being way too intense, Casey.” Sarah shook her head.

  “And this conversation is beginning to bore me,” Sheila informed them all, though the look she shot Sarah was filled with an apology.

  She wasn’t bored, but she could definitely feel the fear beginning to travel up her spine.

  Not a fear of harm. Or at least, not a fear of personal harm.

  A fear of having her heart broken was another matter entirely.

  “Bore you?” Casey growled. “I rather doubt it.”

  “Dance with me or shut the hell up, Casey,” she finally demanded in exasperation. “If you’re going to stand around holding on to me like a damned junkyard dog, then the least you could do is make it worth my while.”

  It was her mother’s advice to choose her battles wisely that rang through her head as Casey led her to the dance floor. A slow, sensual beat began to fill the air, drawing couples to the floor and heating the building with the power of human lust.

  At least, that was what she tried to tell herself as she felt Casey’s arms wrap around her and allowed him to draw her to him. Possessively.

  “What is with you and the ball-and-chain attitude?” she asked, genuinely bemused with the way he was acting.

  “Trying to become a ball and chain?”
he asked.

  She almost stopped in the middle of the dance floor.

  “Are you proposing, Casey?” She could feel her heart beginning to race in her throat. “Because if you are, then this is a lousy way to go about it.”

  He snorted back at her, pulling her closer once again as he bent his head against hers and swayed to the lazy, sexually charged music filling the building.

  “You’ll know when I’m proposing, Sheila. There will be no question about it.”

  Son of a bitch.

  Casey was cursing silently with every four-letter word he could come up with and a few he knew were illegal in several parts of the world. Probably in the States as well.

  Yeah, it was sort of a proposal.

  Casey was a man who accepted what he knew he didn’t have a chance in hell of changing. And the feelings for Sheila burning inside him weren’t going to change.

  Fidelity being the key. In the months he had been slipping in and out of her bed, not even once had he found another woman attractive. It purely, simply sucked, though, that she seemed to think he was so horrible at the whole proposal thing.

  What did he have to do, anyway? Get on one knee?

  He scowled back at Cooper as they swayed around the floor. This had to be his fault. That big lug had gone down on his knee to Sarah and presented her with a diamond the size of a tennis ball.

  Okay, so maybe it had been slightly smaller, but that had to be where she had come up with these ideas. Sarah had to have told her.

  “You’re acting strange, Casey,” Sheila informed him. “Like a man making a claim, and I’m not some pretty doll you can claim and expect me to fall into line with it.”

  “Darlin’, I wouldn’t expect you to fall into line with anything. We’ll just keep on keepin’ on till you see things my way, is all. I didn’t say I expected you to agree with me overnight.”

  “Until I see things your way, huh?” He could hear the amusement in her tone, along with a rather vague confusion. As though she weren’t entirely certain how to deal with him.

  That was a good thing. Keeping Sheila off balance was always a damned good thing if a man could manage it.

  “Yep,” he agreed, hiding his smile in her hair. “We’ll get along better that way, you’ll see.”