Stefan sat down and tapped his thighs. Lana immediately placed herself in his lap. “She isn’t. She’s very much looking forward to tomorrow. We’ll need to stay in the main house. I’m giving them this place for the evening.”
“He seemed adamant,” Lana stated thoughtfully.
Stefan reached over and pushed a small button on the side table. A door slid open where there had appeared to be none. Lana showed no discomfort as two men walked out from the hiding space.
“I intend to give him a reason to stake his claim,” Stef explained.
“I take it that was our mark?” asked Bay, the older of the brothers. Shane was silent, watching Lana with lust in his eyes.
“One of them,” Stef replied. “Lana, dear, do you think they’ll do?”
Stef watched as Lana looked over the two men thoughtfully. They were in their early twenties, and both had a rugged attractiveness to them. Stef had met the older of the two brothers when he bought a sculpture the man had done. It was a haunting piece of work, and Stef had sought out the artist. He’d been surprised to discover he was a rodeo cowboy. Stefan had struck up a strange friendship with the brothers. Now he would use them to his own ends. They would get something out of it, too, of course. Stefan Talbot was a great believer in reciprocity.
“Yes, I believe they will work quite nicely.” She pouted a little as she looked back at him. “Are they only here to make the twins jealous, or did you have something else in mind, master?”
She knew him well.
“Shane, Bay.” Stefan indicated that they could come closer. “My little slave would love for you to play with her.” Stefan liked to watch. The brothers were out of their clothes before he could get another word out, but Lana waited patiently.
“Go on, dear,” he said affectionately. “I believe they’re ready. Ah, youth.”
Lana fell to her knees and put that talented mouth around Bay’s cock. Shane positioned himself to taste her pussy. Stefan sat back and enjoyed the show.
Max stared at the computer in front of him.
Callie stood in the doorway, peering into his brother’s office. Max could tell she was beginning to suspect he was using the computer for something he shouldn’t. “Are you sure you don’t need something, Max?”
Oh, he needed something. He needed better weaponry and a security system for the house and some bodyguards so he knew Rachel was never alone. Liz, he corrected. Her real name was Liz.
“Do you know where Rye is?” was all he asked.
Callie shook her head. “He’s not supposed to be back in until Monday. Logan’s staking out that T-intersection where no one ever stops.” She shrugged apologetically. “We could use a new fridge in the break room, and the microwave is on the fritz.”
“I tried his cell, and he didn’t answer.” Max just stared dumbly at the computer screen. He should have done the search at home, but he knew Rye had access to things he didn’t. He’d gotten past Callie by saying he just needed to use the Internet to look up some directions. He guessed Rye’s password on the second try and quickly found what he needed now that he had her real name.
Of course, if he had known what he would find, he would have brought Rye in from the beginning. He’d just been cautious. If Rachel was running from people she owed money to or was running from the cops, he would have handled the situation without Rye.
She was running from a cop, all right, but there was nothing about the situation that could compromise Rye’s job. This was Rye’s job. He was honor-bound to protect and serve, and Rachel needed both.
“He’s in the Bronco, right?” Callie twirled her dark brown hair around her fingers thoughtfully. It was a habit she’d had since they were kids.
Max nodded. Rye had taken his county-issued vehicle when he left on his mysterious errand.
Callie sighed, and Max could tell she’d decided to shelve her curiosity. “I’ll try raising him on the radio, then. Sometimes he forgets to charge his cell. Half the time that thing doesn’t work, anyway. The coverage out here is iffy at best.”
She walked off, and Max felt bad. He’d always been the one to see to things like that. He was more organized than Rye. Even when they were kids, Max had been the one to make sure Rye had everything he needed when it came to school. If it had been up to Rye, he would have never brought a lunch or had a pencil with him. Rye forgot, so Max took over. Max just handled that stuff for Rye when he was doing it for himself. He plugged in Rye’s cell every night just before he plugged in his own. Last night, he’d put his on the charger and then charged the one he had bought for Rachel. It seemed an imposition to barge into Rye’s room and force him to charge his phone.
When had that happened? When had he started worrying about his brother’s privacy? Max didn’t like it. Something was going to have to give, and soon. He needed to talk to Rachel. First, though, he needed to deal with the problem at hand.
Someone out there wanted to kill their woman.
Max didn’t correct himself mentally this time. She was theirs. She just didn’t know it yet. She was living with them, and they would wear her down. One day in the not too distant future, she would wake up between them and realize that they could make it work.
After he’d killed one Tommy Lane.
Max swore out loud as he looked over the newspaper articles. Tommy Lane had stalked the young insurance adjuster, and when he couldn’t scare her into complying, he’d set her house on fire. Liz Courtney had barely gotten out with her life. He’d killed her dog and ruined her reputation at work. He’d made her life a living hell. The Dallas papers wondered where he had stuffed her body. None of it could be proven. Like so many other women, Liz had been caught in a legal Catch-22.
She’d disappeared a few mornings after the fire. Some witnesses said they saw her driving off in a sedan, but no one had seen her since then. There was some question as to whether the former officer had killed the woman and dumped her body. The prosecutors were in a bad position. They had no body and no witnesses. They couldn’t prove the arson. Tommy Lane was a free man.
Max studied the picture of the man who had made Rachel’s life a living hell. He was a rough-looking son of bitch. He was probably forty, and it looked like he’d gotten there the hard way. He was dressed in a crisp uniform, but there was something shady about him that no dress uniform could ever cover up.
Max glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite eight. Rachel wouldn’t be getting off work for another hour and a half. He had time. He intended to be there when she left. He would follow her home. From now on, he would take her to and from work until he could convince her she didn’t need to work at all. She was fairly safe at the diner. Both Stella and Hal carried guns, and they wouldn’t hesitate to use them. Rye would make sure everyone in town knew what the fucker looked like and to shoot him on sight. They could make up a daring tale of self-defense later. Everyone in Bliss would back them up on it. They stuck together in Bliss, and Rachel was one of their own now.
Rye walked in. He placed his Stetson on a large filing cabinet and looked pointedly at his desk. “I was on my way home when Callie called. What are you doing here? And why the hell are you on my system? Do you know I can arrest you for that?”
“Arrest me later.” Max turned the laptop around. “I know why Rachel ran.”
Max got up and allowed his brother to sit. It didn’t take long before Max saw Rye flush with rage. He knew exactly what his brother was feeling. He was feeling the extreme need to defend their woman.
“He’s going to come after her,” Max said quietly. “He won’t be satisfied. He knows she’s not dead, and I have no doubt he’s looking.”