It was apparent he wasn’t going to say a damned thing.

This time she didn’t have to fight the tears back, though her chest tightened with aching regret. There were no tears filling her eyes; there was only acceptance—an acceptance tinged with bitter regret.

“It’s time for me to get up,” she told him, pretending everything was fine. “I have things to do this morning.”

Slowly, watching her carefully, he let her go.

Uncertainty flickered in his gaze, and despite having sensed it in him before, she still found that small bit of vulnerability endearing. Brogan wasn’t a man who admitted to any sort of weakness, and he would see uncertainty in any area as a weakness.

“Will I see you this evening?” she asked as she moved to the closet and pulled out a light blue casual chiffon skirt that fell just below her thighs, along with a loose matching camisole top.

“Definitely,” he answered, propping his hand on his palm as he watched her, his gray-blue eyes reflecting simmering lust. “I may even be able to get away from the job early. We could go out to dinner.”

He was willing to take her out now? Why now? Because he was afraid she wouldn’t wait until he was ready to stake his claim? Her dinner with Chatham—or Doogan, as Brogan had called him—hadn’t pleased him in the slightest.

Brogan was ready to stake a public claim on her now, while he was always willing to walk away from the more private claim.

Her jaw tightened in anger as she turned away from him and moved back to the closet, where she pulled free a pair of flat, strappy leather sandals. She was not going to let him see how hurt she was, or how angry. If he didn’t want to own her heart, then screw him; she had no problem at all trying to take it back from him.

“If I’m not back when you return, then I won’t be much longer,” she promised, fighting to keep her voice even, her tone casual.

The last thing she needed was for him to suspect her plans.

But if he thought she was going to hang around Pulaski County and watch him flit around like a buck in rut while all the women swarmed him, like they had since he’d arrived, then he was crazed. She’d be damned if she would have to deal with the smart-assed territorial women who seemed to think he was their own personal prize.

It wasn’t going to happen.

“Where will you be?” Suspicion entered his gaze as well as his voice, though maybe he was finally figuring out that things weren’t going to go all his way any longer.

“I had a job offer.” She shrugged as though it didn’t matter, while she gathered clean underclothes together before heading to the shower. “I’m going to meet with the company’s owner today so he can explain the job.”

The offer had come from another of John Walker’s friends from Boston the day before. He had enough of those to go around, it seemed. At first she hadn’t been interested, until she had talked to her mother the night before.

“Where is this job, Eve?”

Brogan could sense the ax getting ready to fall, and he could kick his own ass for letting it go this far.

Staring into his eyes moments ago, Eve had shown him more clearly than words what it would take to keep her, and he had ignored her.

Stubborn arrogance, his father called it, and now Brogan might very well pay for it.

“Where do you think?” She laughed as though he should know. As though the question were moot.

“My guess is, outside Kentucky,” he stated.

Eve turned around slowly to face him, and the answer was in her eyes.

“Boston.” She confirmed his guess. “It’s a wonderful opportunity. I’ll be managing several offices and client lists. My degree is in business administration, and there are just so few—”

“I love you, Eve. . . .”

She froze.

Shock registered on her face as she stared back at him as though she were certain she hadn’t heard right.

“What did you say?”

Rising from the bed, he moved to her. Clasping her shoulders in his hands, he stared into the naked vulnerability of her gaze.

“I said I love you, Eve,” he repeated. “I love you, heart and soul. I don’t know why I’ve fought it. Even before we spent that first night together, I’ve known I loved you and that I couldn’t bear to lose you. I sure as hell don’t want you moving to Boston, where I’m afraid I would lose you forever.”

Joy exploded in her gaze, flushed her cheeks. Brogan swore he could feel it now: an explosion of heat and happiness that filled her entire consciousness and then whipped into his.

Before he’d left for D.C., the Mackay cousins had detained him for a few hours. Somehow, Brogan had found himself trying to vocalize the confusing mix of emotions he always felt whenever he and Eve were in the same room. Dawg called it a mating. Natches called it a soul thing. Rowdy had laughed at all of them and told Brogan to prepare himself; it was this little thing called love.

Some couples—most couples—waited years and years before they developed the ability to read or to feel each other so well. Then there were those very few who touched each other so deeply, so perfectly that first time that the bond was almost immediate.

For the Mackay men and their wives it hadn’t happened until each of their wives had conceived their first child. Each cousin swore it was the first time he felt his child kick. Connected as they were to their wives and, through their wives, to their children, that bond had kicked into place.

“You really love me?” she whispered as he came to her and framed her face gently. “You really love me, Brogan?”

“Past forever, Eve,” he promised to her. “How could you doubt it? You’ve felt it, the same as I have, since we spent that night together. I felt your heart touch mine, and I know mine touched yours. What else could it be but love?”

“It’s love,” she whispered, that explosion of happiness radiating from her soul to warm his own as she threw her arms around his neck and hung on tight. “Oh, God, Brogan, it’s love.”

A part of him had been dark for so many years, even before Candy. The deliberate destruction of his child had only cemented the bitterness that had raged in him for so long.

The moment he met Eve, he’d felt light touch that darkness. Each time she touched him with her smile he had become even more vulnerable to her. He’d become locked firmly beneath her spell.

“Have patience with me?” he whispered as he buried his face against her neck again, holding her close to his heart.

“Always,” she swore, and he was warmed by her heart touching his.

“It may take me a while.” Closing his eyes, he prayed—prayed he could keep the evil of his world from touching her. “I promise to get the hang of it soon.” He lifted his head from her neck; then his lips lowered, touched hers, and he belonged.

“I love you, Eve,” he vowed.

And her smile completed his dreams, filled his life with light, and once again Brogan knew hope.

“And I love you, Brogan Campbell. Forever and always. I love you.”

NINETEEN

There was something about Eve, Brogan decided, that just made it impossible to maintain distance.

She’d declined the job offer before they had shared a shower, then cussed him out when she realized she was too sore to take him again. She’d decided instead to make the trip to the store for the groceries her mother needed, kissed him with enough heat to damned near blow his tiny mind, then drove off.

Shaking his head at her particular brand of revenge, Brogan mounted the Harley, listened to the smooth throb of the motor, then pulled out of the inn’s gravel parking lot and headed toward the Mackay Marina.

He’d accomplished what they wanted; now he wondered what those three intended to do with, basically, a license to kill with impunity.