She was pushing him, and she knew she was, but this was the first time she had seen so much emotion in him. He wasn’t as controlled as he normally was, and the knowledge of that had adrenaline crashing through her system.

She could get used to this. The excitement was addictive.

Brogan snorted. “Don’t fool yourself, sweet pea. The Mackay cousins are hitting their forties. They’re not exactly as spry as they used to be.”

Eve almost laughed. For a second—well, maybe a millisecond—she had the insane urge to share with him the fact that the cousins’ wives often made that claim themselves. But it was only after the cousins proved otherwise.

“Maybe your confidence is just enough to ensure that he does kick your ass,” she suggested. “Be careful there, Brogan; you could be a little overconfident.”

“That’s possible.” Surprising her with the agreement as he cast her a hard, mocking look, he continued. “Personally, I’d just as soon not find out, though, so I’ve made certain he’ll be completely unaware of our location.”

She doubted that. Dawg seemed to know exactly where each of his sisters was and what they were doing at any given time of the day. Or night.

“So what have you borrowed and who did you borrow it off of?” she asked, rubbing at the sensation almost of static electricity that raced over her arms at the thought of being alone with Brogan right now. Sensual intensity and male confidence seemed to bleed from every pore of his body. Sexual intent and erotic heat filled the cab of the truck, raising her heart rate and sending excitement crashing through her bloodstream.

“Does it matter who I borrowed it from?” he answered her as he turned up a narrow, unlined paved road.

It was one of the few she and her sisters hadn’t explored—for a reason.

“The property up this road is gated,” she told him. “There used to be a guard at the gate, too.”

“Only when it’s being used by certain people,” he informed her cryptically.

“What sort of people?” Eve probed as the truck pulled up to the locked gate and the guard post.

The guard post was empty. Surprisingly, Brogan pulled his wallet from his jeans back pocket, extracted what appeared to be a key card from one of the credit card slots, and slid it through the security scanner.

The gate swung open slowly in the bright lights of the truck as a green light flashed next to the gate’s support post.

Driving through, he stopped at the mounted control box on the other side, opened the weatherproof door as he stuck his arm through the open window of the truck, and pushed in a code. The gate swung closed behind them.

The entirety of the property was fenced in, though it was fenced at different heights as it moved up the mountain, to allow larger wildlife to clear it. As the cabin came into view, Eve glimpsed the eight-foot fence about two hundred feet from the house and another gate. Like the control box that closed the first gate, this one took only a code that Brogan pushed into it.

There were rumors . . .

Eve stared through the windshield as she propped her elbow on the door and rubbed at her temple. “Who does this cabin belong to, Brogan?”

“Tonight it belongs to me. I told you: I have a friend.”

“Did Timothy give you the key and access code into it?” she asked. “I know there’s a rumor this cabin belongs to the government, and Timothy’s the only former agent I know who you talk to.”

“As you said, though, Timothy and I aren’t exactly friends,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, well, Timothy has friends no one knows anything about, and often treats the friends he does associate with like suspects or enemies rather than friends. So who the hell knows?”

Brogan chuckled, a low, sensual sound that sent heat skipping up her spine.

Stepping from the truck, Eve stared around the small clearing before turning to the cabin and staring up at it.

She’d thought the fence surrounded all four sides of the large cabin until she stepped from the truck. To the side, instead, the waters of the lake lapped at the sandy ground, while a dock extended out into the water.

Lights had flipped on from the front porch as the truck pulled up to it, revealing the elegant wilderness retreat.

She’d heard the cabin hidden in the wide canyon above the lake was a luxurious retreat often used by government officials, senators, governors, and megarich hunters with the right political ties.

From the back of the truck Brogan pulled two overnight bags free. Eve’s brows lifted in disbelief as she recognized her own bag.

“You packed my clothes?” Propping her hands on her hips, she stared back at him incredulously. “Before or after you stole the truck?”

“Let’s just say I had help.” He growled.

“You had no right to go through my things, Brogan,” she informed him, furious that he’d taken such liberties. It was one thing to practically kidnap her, but packing her clothes? Going through her drawers? That was uncalled-for.

“You weren’t there,” he stated, as though that made it just fine.

“So? That doesn’t give you the right to paw through my clothes.” Or anything else she kept in her drawers.

“Don’t worry, sweetie; your little toys didn’t offend me in the least,” he promised good-naturedly as he stepped up on the porch, set the bags on the wide bench beside the door, and pulled the key card from his shirt pocket before swiping it through the reader.

“I can’t believe you,” she bit out furiously as she followed him into the cabin. “Brogan, what gives you the right to do any of this? First you barge in on my date—”

He turned on her so fast she stepped back, startled that he was facing her so quickly, no more than inches from her where less than a second before he had been a good three feet away.

“Eve, sweetheart, don’t make me tell you again not to call that farce of a dinner you were having with that jackass a date,” he ordered fiercely rather than furiously. “My patience is wearing thin with the people who seem to be standing between us. I can deal with your brother, your sisters, your cousins. Hell, I can even deal with your mother if she decides to protest. But if you dare to put a date between us, then I might not hold on to my patience much longer.”

Her arms lifted, her hands propping on her hips as she lifted her chin defiantly. “Are you threatening me, Brogan Campbell?”

“No, Eve, I’m not threatening you.” He was closer, his head lowering, his gaze holding hers as the blue-gray appeared more a steel gray now than the light blue it sometimes seemed. “I’m telling you: My dick is harder than titanium, my control is all but shot, and I’m so damned hungry for you I’m about to lose my fucking mind. So please, for both our sakes, don’t refer to that man as your date again.”

Her lips thinned.

She could feel her nostrils flaring as she drew in air, fighting to control the racing, adrenaline-laced blood surging and thundering through her. That small movement was her first warning that her own control was thin. That her ability to access her common sense was endangered.

“Now, I’m going to take our clothes to the bedroom,” he stated as he stepped back from her. “If you want something to drink, there’s a bar in the living area and one in the kitchen. The fridge should have drinks, as well as the walk-in pantry. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded silently, her gaze still narrowed on him, her fingers so tight on the purse she expected her nails to pierce the soft leather.

Her cell phone was in her purse; she should call her mother—no, she should call Dawg. She should show Brogan he didn’t have the option of ordering her around.

There was a part of her—the independent fighter who used to worry her mother to distraction—that assured her she didn’t need Dawg’s help. If he showed up he’d drag her from the house and probably camp on her doorstep to ensure Brogan didn’t come around her again.