In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)(69)

“You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me. Now? Someone’s going to interrupt us now of all times? Swear to God, the house better be on fire.”

Ari smothered a smile and tried to summon irritation equal to his, but he was too funny with his pouty sullen look of a boy who’d just been denied his favorite toy.

When the knock persisted, Beau rolled, sliding his feet to thump on the floor, and then rose to stalk to the door, yanking it open with enough force to rip it from its hinges.

“What?” he barked

Ari turned, curious as to whom would brave Beau’s wrath to interrupt them so early in the morning. She frowned. Or at least she thought it was morning. Yesterday was a fog bank, and she had to struggle to part the veil of mist in order to remember all that had happened.

She shivered with the bone-deep cold that always assailed her after a psychic burst—a word she’d made up on the fly because, well . . . it was appropriate—because Beau was no longer there to warm her and the bed was suddenly chilly. She dug her feet deeper, seeking residual warmth from the imprint of his legs and feet.

At first she couldn’t see who had knocked on Beau’s door because Beau solidly filled the doorway and they were speaking in low tones. So she couldn’t hear? Or out of deference to the fact she was always so sound sensitive. But she wasn’t now, so it had to be that they didn’t want her to hear.

She frowned, sitting up in bed, craning her neck to see around Beau, and was finally able to see enough of the intruder to recognize him. Zack. Only he wasn’t alone. Caleb and Dane were both flanking Zack. She bit her lip in agitation. What on earth was going on? Why were all three men standing there wearing determined expressions? Except Caleb, whose eyes and face seemed locked in impenetrable stone. He neither frowned nor smiled. He was utterly unreadable—but obviously serious, and even so, he definitely intimidated her.

She unconsciously settled further back into the pillows, drawing the covers protectively to her chin as if by doing so she offered some kind of barrier between her and the daunting, cold figure Caleb represented.

What had made him so? Only when he was around his wife, or she entered the room, did his entire demeanor soften, and he seemed to light up, glowing from the inside out. Ari could see the immediate change—the difference—knew that he quite obviously adored the other woman and that he’d lay waste to any threat to her.

Surely a man who became utterly defenseless the minute his wife walked into the room couldn’t be all bad. Her own father could be considered quite ruthless. Even cold and daunting, all the qualities she’d attributed to Caleb. But, like Caleb, he became a different man the moment his wife so much as smiled at him. And she knew for a fact that her father was a good man, despite appearances. So perhaps she wasn’t being fair to Caleb. She’d jumped to some rather hasty conclusions fueled by her overwhelming fear. Something that now made her ashamed.

Beau spoke to the men a few more moments, but it didn’t escape her that he ensured he was a solid barrier to the inside of the bedroom. Specifically the bed where Ari lay. Not that he needed to have concerned himself since she was currently buried in the bed and only her face peeked out from the covers.

Then he softly closed the door and returned to Ari, his features carefully schooled. Instead of crawling back into bed and under the covers with her as she’d hoped, he sat on the edge of the bed and simply held out his hand as if he needed that contact with her.

Or perhaps he thought she would need his touch after he told her what had prompted the early morning visit from his brother and their operatives.

She slipped her hand from beneath the covers and laid it over Beau’s. He immediately curled his around hers, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

“I need you to listen and hear me out,” Beau said in a carefully measured tone.

Her heart skipped a beat before resuming regular rhythm, but the one irregularity caused a momentary catch in her breath. He seemed perfectly in tune with her responses, her body language and reactions. He was perfectly in tune with her.

“Honey, this could be a good thing. So don’t jump to hasty conclusions. I need you to be calm and rational.”

Okay, so it wasn’t horrible. She could deal with that. She made a concerted effort to regulate her breathing and to relax. After a moment when Beau seemed satisfied that she was ready to listen, he scooted a bit closer to her and held her hand in his lap.

“Ramie has agreed to help us. She’s going to try to establish a link to one or both of your parents.”

This time her pulse leapt in excitement, not dread. It took all her control not to literally bounce up and down on the bed like an excited child.

“She did?” Ari whispered, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice. “But Caleb . . . He was so adamant.” And Beau did not miss her sudden shiver that she couldn’t control when she remembered just how vehement Caleb’s reaction had been.

Beau’s eyes grew cold at the reminder of just how adamant his brother had been. But then he seemed to make a concerted effort to shake off his sudden anger and smiled at her hesitant yet hopeful question.

“Ramie is her own person, despite what Caleb may think or what he may make others think. He’d very much like to control every aspect of her life. Not because he’s an overbearing *—although he certainly can be just that—but because he loves her dearly and he only seeks to protect her and I can’t fault him for that. You have no idea the sheer horror they endured not so long ago. What Ramie has endured time and time again over the years. One day when I have the time and we aren’t pressed for it, I’ll tell you their story, but it’s not a pretty one,” he said in a grim tone.