She blew out a hard breath, stared over Chaya’s shoulder a long minute, then met the other woman’s eyes.

“Probably because he’s in love with her and too damned stupid to realize it,” she stated heavily. “Crazy in love with her. He’d kill for her, Chaya. But I also think he’d die for her.”

And she couldn’t blame him.

The problem was, Doogan refused to see what he felt for Zoey. The past six years hadn’t been easy ones for him. The bitter years of his marriage had caused him to shut down. With the death of his wife, his daughter, and brother two years ago, Sam had feared Doogan would never let anyone past his defenses again.

Chaya tipped her head to the side thoughtfully.

“And you know this, how?” she asked.

Sam shook her head. “I guess you’d just have to know Doogan. I know Doogan. And trust me, I’ve never seen him mark a woman’s neck, and hearing that he has shocks the hell out of me. Even during his wilder days, he never left a mark on a woman’s skin. He claimed it was a very intimate, very primitive way of shouting ‘mine.’ And he wasn’t stupid enough to ever claim a woman as his. It was like asking her to shred his guts.”

“Wonderful.” Chaya reached back and rubbed at her neck wearily. “Natches will blow a gasket once he learns who’s sharing her bed. He saw the mark earlier when she showed up to see Lyrica. It’s about to kill him, not being able to figure out who’s daring to claim his baby ‘sister,’ as he calls her.”

Sam shrugged, lifted the wine bottle to her lips again, and finished it. Tossing the bottle to the trash, she stared at the can for long moments.

Yeah, Doogan loved Zoey. But Zoey loved Doogan too. Sam had seen it that night when he first spoke to the younger woman, easing her drugged hysteria, calming her instantly. Zoey didn’t trust anyone instantly, drugged or not. She was wary, temperamental, and as explosive as hell. And she never trusted easily. Not like that.

“He was married when he first saw Zoey,” Sam said softly. “A party at Clay’s about six years ago. He watched her for hours, Clay said.” She shook her head, wondering what loving someone like that would feel like. “Doogan ordered the DJ to play something slow until Doogan left the dance floor. When he did, Doogan went to Zoey and pulled her against him. They danced for an hour, Clay told me. He thought he was going to have to kick Doogan’s ass before the night was out because he was messing with Zoey while he was married. Then, at the end of a song, Doogan stepped back from her, returned her to her friends, then left. He made certain to stay away from her after that. Until last year.”

“Interesting,” Chaya murmured, her tone thoughtful. “Tell me, Sam, do you love Zoey too?”

Did she love Zoey?

Sam frowned at the question, then slowly shook her head. “I care for her. I’d do her in a New York minute. But no.” Lifting her head, she met Chaya’s look directly. “I’m not in love with her. All I care about at this point is keeping her alive, Chaya.”

ELEVEN

Doogan was back.

Zoey checked for the truck after parking in the front garage and moving up the metal staircase leading to the kitchen side of the living area more than two hours later.

Lyrica had been watching her confrontation with Natches on the television in her and Graham’s room as she nursed her son. The kid might have been the quieter of the twins, but he ate so much that Lyrica had been forced to supplement his diet with baby formula.

As she nursed her son, Lyrica was all but howling with laughter. Natches had remained standing in the hall where Zoey left him, staring up the stairs, anger and a hint of confusion filling his expression.

He’d appeared not to know exactly what he should do at that point. It had been amusing, yes, but she hadn’t quite seen the hilarity in it her sister did.

“Tell Graham and I’ll never speak to you,” she’d informed her sister.

Lyrica had only laughed harder. “I swear, I won’t have to. He was watching at Walker’s Run. Along with Doogan.”

And now she would be facing Doogan. The thought of it excited her rather than filling her with the caution she knew it should.

As she entered the second level, the dim wall lights flipped on and Doogan stepped into the doorway of her bedroom, tucked his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, and watched her silently. The sleeves of his pristine white shirt were rolled above his wrists, the black tie hanging askew at the unbuttoned neckline.

Yep, Doogan was pissed.

She’d known he wouldn’t be pleased when Lyrica had revealed that Graham and Doogan had seen her confrontation with Natches. That meant Elijah and John Walker had seen it as well.

“Did you just get in?” she asked, dropping her shoulder pack to the table at the top of the stairs. “I assumed you’d be later.”

“Yet another miscalculation on your part tonight,” he drawled mockingly. “And here I had hoped common sense would prevail at some point.”

Common sense? Oh, he was getting into dangerous territory now. Snide, arrogant, and far too mocking, he was working on getting his ass kicked out of her apartment.

“Brom,” she said sweetly, using the name Lyrica had revealed Graham sometimes called him. “Please let Doogan come out to play again. I like him much better.”

The last thing she wanted to do was deal with the same asshole tendencies her brother and cousins felt the need to display.

“Tell me, Zoey, seeing as you’ve only recently taken one man as a lover, what makes you think you’re ready to move into the big leagues with two, baby? Especially two Augusts? Have you experienced what it’s like to take a man anally yet? Let alone have one filling that snug little pussy at the same time? I’d suggest allowing a single lover to initiate you first. Just to be certain it’s an act you’ll enjoy.”

Zoey swallowed tightly, the suggestion paralyzing her as the thought of Doogan initiating her hit her imagination. She couldn’t breathe. Excitement flooded her, her body sensitizing, nipples hardening, her sex becoming slick and heated.

“Perhaps. But I’m only accepting applicants with a bit more in mind where a relationship’s concerned than it seems you do,” she informed him sweetly. “It’s that whole intimacy and trust thing, ya know?”

“Long enough to keep you warm this winter?” he growled, his tone low, brooding. “I’ll make sure I show up every time it snows.”

She laughed. The comment was so outrageous. If she didn’t know better she’d think he was jealous. Unfortunately, she didn’t think Doogan was into jealousy.

“My arguments with my cousins are none of your business,” she informed him, knowing it was the wrong thing to say even as it slipped past her lips. “They can be morons and they make me insane.”

That tacked-on little excuse wasn’t helping, if his expression was anything to go by.

“Yet another erroneous assumption, sweetheart,” he assured her, the smooth icy tone causing her teeth to clench in irritation. “When it comes to another man, or men touching you, then I’m making it my business.”

He was making it his business? Really? And just who the hell did he think gave him permission to do that?

“We need to stop this now . . .” She actually tried to smooth things over rather than letting her anger, or her perverse sense of humor, get the best of her. Either one wouldn’t be a good idea at this point.

“Tell you what, baby,” he suggested smoothly. “I have a bit of experience in sharing a lover. Come to bed and I’ll give you a taste of what you’re asking for.”

Her eyes narrowed, arms folding across her breasts to keep from throwing something at him. Something like the fake fruit Natches had carved for her and placed in a collectible basket for her dining table. Large apples, oranges, bananas, and clusters of grapes. They were heavy, just the right size to throw at dumbasses.