What Doesn't Kill Her (Cape Charade #2)(90)

“And?”

“He said emphatically no. Then even without my insistence, he said he’d look into the possibility. You know what that means, right?”

“What?”

“She disturbed him enough to get him off his ass.” Max had that tone in his voice, that curl in his lip that he reserved for Nils Brooks. “Right before I came and got you out of the bushes where you were holding a pre-wedding conference—”

“Not on purpose.”

“—Nils broke into the prison computer and phoned with another no. To all intents and purposes, she’s been effectively neutered.”

“That leaves us with nothing. Not that it matters.” Kellen tried to smile. “Since our return from the mountains we’ve been busy, everything’s been peaceful and—Can’t we be hopeful that maybe the violence was about stealing the Triple Goddess?”

“Hopeful. But let’s not stand on the track and wonder what that bright light is.”

“No,” Kellen said slowly. “But in truth, my attention has been directed elsewhere.”

“I know. You’ve been intent on pleasuring me.”

She slid him a sideways glance. “Yes. Of course. That’s it.”

“Or you’ve been worried about what the doctors told you.”

Damn the man. He was perceptive and when he used that voice, that warm deep caring voice, she wanted to tell him all her problems. She wouldn’t; right now they ranged from I’m going to die to Why do I have to worry about the number of flowers in the arrangements on the table? “I’m not worried, exactly. But thinking. I don’t want to spend what remains of my life fighting about how many ruffles are on my train.”

“I know you don’t. My mother, however, doesn’t know we have concerns about our timeline and we need to make every moment count.”

Kellen laughed at his delicate phrasing. “I don’t suppose she does. I hope we got everything straightened out in our shrubbery symposium.”

“I hope so, too.” He turned his head and looked at her straight on. “You have a very logical way of analyzing the people around you.”

“I, um, after I woke from the coma, my brain worked differently. I analyze...”

“Everything?”

“No. And I’m not always right in my analysis. But when I meet people, I do catalog them. Very Rolodex-y, if you know what I mean.” She watched him, waiting for his reaction. Would he be creeped out?

“That explains a lot.” He scooted closer on the table, close enough for her to catch his scent and feel his warmth. “What does my Rolodex card say? ‘Handsome, sexy, irresistible father of adorable daughter who fulfills all my needs?’”

“That’s exactly what it says.” Add kind and caring, and that was pretty close.

“You’re very perceptive,” he said smugly. “Dear one, you are unique among women and I would like to—”

“Me, too.” How could she not? He was powerful, muscled and a pleasure to the eye. He was intelligent, loud and boisterous, a caring father and a thoughtful lover. Right now, in the dim light, when they talked, put their heads together, became one mind, one heart... If they could grow old together, they would be like that always.

But that was a trouble for later. For now—she attacked him. Kissed him openmouthed and with enough force to push him down on the table.

Not that he fought.

She tugged his shirt out of his jeans, stripped his belt away, stood on the floor and wrestled him out of everything he wore below the waist in a truly ungraceful and desperate move. She did the same for herself, hopping around on one sandaled foot until she got her shorts off. The T-shirt was easy, just a fast pull over the head, and as she unsnapped her bra, a thought made her pause. “Did you lock the door?”

“Of course. But you’re moving a little fast!”

She sat back on her heels and looked at him, sprawled the length of the table, wearing only his shirt. She smiled with anticipatory heat. “You look ready to me.”

“I mean—” he took her hand and pulled her close “—I like to be slow and careful with you.”

“Today—” she twined their fingers together and climbed onto the table, and him “—try to keep up.”

Max stretched and rolled with Kellen off the table.

She was humming as she found her underpants near the door, her bra hanging on the spigot of a wine barrel. She didn’t care if that did invite the gray to overtake her; it was worth every millisecond.

Max looked pretty pleased with himself, too. As he fished his running shoe out of the wooden wine bucket, he said, “One other thing about Nils Brooks.”

“What?”

“He’s coming to the wedding, and he’s bringing the head.”

“As if assassins aren’t enough trouble, we’re going to invite the thieves, too?”

Max rumbled a laugh. “Someone needs to watch over Rae during the wedding. I don’t trust Brooks in general, but I do trust him to do that. I’ve also talked to Temo and Adrian, explained the situation. They’re coming early on the day of the wedding. They’ll keep an eye on proceedings. Not that I don’t have faith in Parliman’s team, but I like having a couple of experienced fighters close who would kill for you. I thought you might talk to Birdie, brief her, too? Since she’s your bridesmaid she’ll be with you all the time and that adds another layer of security to the whole—”