Undercover Bride. Kylie Brant
her face, made her perfect features seem less remote. More touchable. And because he wanted to touch, badly, he clasped both hands behind his back.
Turning abruptly and crossing to the service cart tucked into a corner of the room, he asked, “Can I get you something to drink?” He glanced over his shoulder and saw Rachel shake her head. “I have some of that iced lemonade you like so well.”
Relenting, she accepted the glass he poured for her, wondering how he’d known that she stopped in the kitchen each afternoon for some of this delicious drink. She wondered uneasily what else he might have observed, as well.
She met his blue gaze with her own, and raised her glass. After taking a sip, she said, “I apologize again for barging in on you. I just wanted to ask if it was all right to borrow from your library. You have quite an extensive collection, and I haven’t had the time to read for a while.”
He gave a careless wave of his hand. “You don’t need to ask permission. You’re to make yourself completely at home here. And don’t worry about the interruption. I can always spare a few minutes for a beautiful woman. Especially one that I’ve been neglecting lately.” The reasons for that had never seemed less rational. Certainly limiting his time with her hadn’t erased her from his mind. Not when she still lingered at the edges of his thoughts, a teasing distraction to the very serious matters at hand.
It was exactly the seriousness of those matters that had had him carefully avoiding her for the past several days. He couldn’t afford to lose sight of the goal that was so close to achievement he could almost touch it. A goal that would be the fruition of years of single-minded dedication.
His fingers clenched as he watched Rachel lower her glass. Her lips were moist. He knew exactly how they would taste, with the sweet, tangy drops clinging to them and the succulent sweetness that was all her own. And he recognized just how thoroughly he’d been deluding himself for the past week. He may have kept his physical distance from her, but she’d continued to represent just as much a diversion.
Consideringly, he raised his glass and drank. Women didn’t distract him—ever. They were pleasant companions, and he enjoyed their company, but when it was time to part, they were forgotten. Never had one caused his thoughts to stray and his sleep to fragment. A faint frown crossed his face. It still surprised him that Rachel was managing to accomplish what all the others could not.
“You’re staring again. I’m surprised your mother didn’t extinguish that particular trait of yours.”
He smiled, slow and wide, and never took his gaze from her. “It’s not the only character flaw she failed at erasing from my tender psyche, just perhaps the most annoying one.”
Rachel strolled to a leather sofa and sat, observing the room curiously. She hadn’t been in it since the day of her arrival. Computers sat beside each of the two desks. She wondered briefly how long it would take her to break the security codes on them.
“Are you thinking about trying your hand at it?”
Her hesitation was only slight, before she completed the act of crossing one leg over the other. “Trying my hand…?”
“At correcting those character flaws my mother failed at.” His teeth flashed in a wicked grin. “I’m modest enough to admit to a few, and patient enough to submit to your tutelage.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not planning on being one of those wives intent on improving their husbands.”
“No?” He seemed almost disappointed. “What will you be intent on?”
She shifted away from the sensitive subject. “It’s a little premature to be making any plans. I have three more weeks left in my trial period here.”
His smile faded, and his expression turned reflective. “Yes, you do.” Draining his glass, he set it on a nearby end table. “Maybe we should be making better use of that time. We could begin after dinner tonight. We’ll take a ride, so you can see more of the compound.”
Interest piqued, she agreed readily. “We should plan on dining earlier than usual. Daylight fades more quickly here than it does back east.”
He gave a slight nod. “Please tell Eliza to plan dinner for five-thirty.” He walked by her side to the door of the office. He waited until she was ready to walk through the door before adding, “Oh, and Rachel.” She looked back quizzically.
“Leave you hair down for me.”
Leaning against the doorjamb, he watched her walk away with a gait that was all the more provocative because it was natural. If Rachel Grunwald was going to prove to be a distraction regardless of how much time they spent together, he reasoned, why should he limit that time? He’d never been a man to deny himself the pleasures of life, although admittedly, it would be the first time he’d consciously chosen to allow them to mix with business.
He shifted his gaze to Sutherland and Raymond, who was barely old enough to vote, but ready to sacrifice his life for The Brotherhood and their beliefs. “Soldier.” The young man snapped to attention. “You’ve been reassigned. You may go back to the detail you held prior to Miss Grunwald’s arrival.”
The soldier swallowed nervously, flicked a glance at Sutherland, and then nodded. “Yes, sir, General.” From the pace he set as he strode toward the door, his eagerness to vanish was clear.
Caleb turned and went back to the office, returning to his chair. After a moment, Kevin followed, closing the door behind him. When the other man remained standing, Caleb raised a quizzical brow. “Something on your mind, Kevin?”
Sutherland’s mouth was pressed in a thin flat line. “No, sir.”
It didn’t take much perception to realize the man was livid. “I think there is. Why don’t you spit it out so we can get on with our earlier discussion?”
“All right.” The colonel paced toward the desk, emotion carving deep furrows into his brow. “You countermanded my orders to that soldier, and undermined my position. I can’t command the men’s respect if you’re going to proceed that way.”
“I disagree that I undermined your position, Kevin.” Caleb’s desk chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. “Your place is my second in command, so the men shouldn’t think it strange that my orders take precedence. That’s what we train them for, isn’t it? To follow orders?” When the man remained silent, Caleb’s gaze narrowed. Sotto voce he inquired, “Or maybe it’s you who has forgotten who’s in command here.”
The colonel held his gaze for a long tension-filled moment, before finally looking away. “I haven’t forgotten, sir.”
“Good, because I don’t tolerate disrespect in my ranks. This is not a democracy. I’m in charge and I make the decisions.” A long pause followed, during which neither man spoke. “But, as always, I value your opinions. So I’m going to listen while you explain to me why you assigned a guard to Rachel Grunwald.”
Sutherland faced him squarely, not backing down an inch. “I would think that would be obvious, sir.”
“Indulge me.”
“Very well.” The man took a deep breath. “Because of the problems we had with the first two candidates I thought more proactive measures would be useful this time. We don’t want a reoccurrence of the trouble we experienced with them.”
Mention of the first two prospective candidates was jarring. Caleb hadn’t spared either of them a thought after they’d been dismissed. Somehow he knew that even if Rachel left the compound, memories of her wouldn’t be so easily banished. “Well, I hardly think it likely that we’d be so unlucky as to have attracted another candidate with sticky fingers or wandering eyes.”
Grimly Sutherland surveyed him. “I don’t think you take this situation seriously enough, sir. It’s imperative that you select the perfect mate. She must be worthy of you, and of her position in The Brotherhood. Surveillance of the candidates isn’t out of line.”
Caleb