Bearing It All (20 page)

“Minister, I've had a very long, rough two days. I'm exhausted. Would you mind if I got back in the bed for the interrogation?”

He smoothed his hand down his expensive necktie. “With your training, you should be strong enough to suck it up and endure whatever I'm about to throw at you.”

Bastard. There was a time she'd rise to his bait. But truthfully, she doubted he could endure what she had the last few days—mentally or physically. She hiked her chin in defiance and kept her eyes locked on his as she stood and sat on the edge of her bed. After kicking off her slippers, she slid her legs under the blanket and tucked the covers under her armpits. Just to irritate him some more, she closed her eyes. “All right, Minister Laroche, I'm ready for your interrogation to begin. I promise to be truthful, just understand my energy levels are low.”

A bear's low growling, ominous and menacing, rumbled from Ronan's throat. Magnus wanted out. Chasen Laroche spun around, searched for the sound, and shrugged his shoulders as if it were nothing. The high and mighty Minister of Defense had no idea what danger he was in. He better watch his French ass. Her Scottish man would shift and destroy him, which would only lead to more trouble.

For centuries, these shifters had succeeded in keeping their existence a secret. She could not ruin the lives of so many, just to save her own behind.

“How much do you know and where would you like to start, sir.” She opened her eyes and stared directly into his gray gaze fastened on her.

The room fairly vibrated with Ronan's anger. “Kendric, ye went behind our backs and called in her boss? Ye put her in danger without a word of warning?”

“I'm a law enforcement officer. There was a warrant out fer her arrest. I have laws by which I must abide. Although the Minister was surprised she'd applied for asylum and was under the international protection that affords.” He pushed over a chair for the Minister and plopped his own behind in her wheelchair.

Ronan stood and got into his big bed with what appeared to be little difficulty. He slipped something under his pillow before he turned to scowl at Kendric. “Is yer laird aware of this?”

Kendric ran a palm down his face and shook his head. “Yer brother will nay doubt beat me senseless. But me job carries certain duties here in Scotland and internationally. I was under obligation to share what I knew with the Minister of Defense. The Minister and I have gone over the intel Anisa freely gave me.”

Minister Laroche opened a folder full of printouts of what she'd discovered. Page by page he went over every word of information with her. After a couple of hours, her head hurt so badly, she could barely think straight. “Minister, my head is pounding. I can scarcely hear your questions much less think clearly enough to answer them. May I ring the nurse for some medicine? Otherwise, my answers might be nothing more than mumble-jumble and not the truth you require.”

To her surprise, he snapped the file closed and stood. “I'll return at nine sharp tomorrow morning. We will continue then, even if it takes us all day. Thank you for your openness thus far.” He gave a curt nod. “Good night.” He marched out with straight, military precision.

Kendric turned to Ronan. “I ken ye dinna understand why I had to do things this way.”

“Get the fook out! Ye put yer career ahead of the sleuth's mandate and our friendship.”

She couldn't allow the mess she'd gotten herself in to ruin a lifelong friendship between cousins. “Ronan, man that I love, what Kendric did was the honorable thing. We don't have to like it right this minute, but what he did was right. His job carries a huge burden of responsibility. I'm betting he took a sworn oath when he got his job. A man can't go against that, not with Scottish blood running through his veins. He belongs to the law system, just as I belong to the French government.”

Ronan glared at Kendric. “I dinna want to lose her. I've waited all me life fer this woman. Dinna expect me to accept yer putting me beloved at risk.”

“What I'm trying to do is clear her name so she can go home to Paris to see her family if she wants or if one of her family members becomes ill. Some things we've got to do in steps. Aye, her asylum, if approved, will keep her safe within our borders, especially after ye've wed. But wouldna ye want yer name cleared if ye'd worked as hard as she has to earn her rank? Wouldna ye want to come home to see yer mum if she became deathly ill…or one of yer brothers?”

Ronan's hand extended in a stop gesture. “Dinna give me yer excuses right now. Thanks to yer righteous devotion to yer job, the French government, the CIA, the good and the bad of ICAT, and the Russians know where she's at. Every dirty, fookin' rat will be heading toward Mathe Bay fer her!” He pointed to Anisa.

“Sweetheart, I put myself in danger the moment I copied those files from CIA computers. I ruined my military career when I stole that drone. The things I've done on one hand were to clear my name and, on the other, were illegal. Even though I'd planned all along to turn every bit of the intel over to a law enforcement agency. One I trusted. Blame me, not your cousin.” She wiped tears from her cheeks.

“Thank ye, Anisa. Maybe after he's had a few days to think about what all me job entails, his attitude will change.” Kendric spun and opened the door to leave.

“Not if me woman is taken from me, ye knife-in-the-back friend.”

Anisa's heart pounded in her ears and her breathing was rapid. She was going to have to pay for what she'd done to ICAT and the French Intelligence Agency. The fact that the Minister of Defense came to Scotland to talk to her was a bad sign. One that carried a death knell with it, for it was not lost on her that neither his greeting nor his farewell included mention of her rank. He'd insist she'd return to France for a military trial and court-martial. She'd be put in jail for the rest of her life—or shot, as a traitor.

Had her decisions been rash? Once she'd realized her home was bugged with listening devices and cameras and read reports that pointed to her as the mole in the International Coalition Against Terrorism, she'd known she had to take the offensive. But was running the offensive or the defensive? Had she handled this mess completely wrong?

“Ronan?”

“Aye, luv.”

She crawled out of her bed and into his where he wrapped his arms around her. “Do you think I handled the entire situation in an erroneous way? Put yourself in my place. After gathering the intel to prove your innocence, would you have marched into the prime minister's office with it or head for another country the way I did?”

He was all scowls over what Kendric had done, yet his touch to her cheek was gentle. “Ye're doubting yerself. Things happen fer a reason.”

“Like my dropping from the sky and landing on a bear?”

The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting a smile. “Dinna make me laugh at the memory. I'm fookin' pissed right now. Bloody hell, I never expected me own cousin to betray us the way he did. The Minister is going to take ye back to France, and I willna be able to stop him.” He rolled on his side and pulled her so close she could barely breathe. “I canna endure the thought of it. Ye are me future. And imagine the weeping and wailing going on inside me right now. Brother Bear is having a breakdown.”

“Is he asking for food?” She batted her eyes.

“Dinna be a smart-arse about this. I'm warning ye, Anisa. Ye are our reason fer living.” He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and bit her, as if he were unable to contain the wildness and anger within.

Their door opened. “How are me two favorite…och dear…”

Ronan's head rose and he glared over his shoulder. “Davina, get out. We're having a deep discussion that's about to get deeper.”

Her eyes sparkled when she smiled. “Och, I do love those kinds of talks. I'll be back in a couple hours. Ronan, dinna overdo.”

His erection was all but engraving its imprint on Anisa's abdomen.

“Davina, bloody hell!” His blond eyebrows furrowed.

The door closed.

“Ronan, you can't possibly be thinking about having sex. You've been shot and just had surgery.”

“Woman, dinna utter another word except ‘aye.' Shifters heal faster. We get horny quicker and we love harder.” He reached behind her under the pillow and pulled out a black velvet box. “ 'Tis a custom in our family to give rings worn by women loved, cherished, and protected in earlier times by Matheson men. Mum brought a few today for me to choose from. This was worn by me da's mum.”

He flipped open the lid to reveal an Art Deco filigree diamond set in white gold. The diamond she judged to be over two karats was framed with four round diamonds with detailed engraving on the top and sides of the band. “Anisa, luv, will ye marry me? Will ye give me the right to cherish and protect ye forever, nay matter what happens over this drone business?”

“Oh, Ronan, it's an absolutely beautiful antique ring. It almost takes my breath away.” She knew what it meant for him to give her something that had come from his dad's mother. “But what if I have to go to jail? They'll take it from me.”

“I willna allow ye to be put behind bars. Ye are mine and Brother Bear's. Ye belong to us. Now will ye marry me? All ye need to say is ‘aye.' ”

She held out her hand. “Aye, man that I love. I will marry you, if I'm able.” And she prayed to God she would have that chance. He kissed the diamond before he slipped it on her finger. “It looks fabulous on my hand.” She ran her hands over his bald head, bringing it down to meet her lips. “I love you more than my career in the service and I didn't think I'd ever say that to anyone.” Now, if only she'd have a chance to prove it.

A spark of devilment, or was it the beginning of desire's fire, gleamed from Ronan's eyes as he reached under her to untie her hospital gown. “At the cabin, we mated. Just now, we pledged. Now, we are about to create our future.” He slipped the gown from her arms, careful of her shoulder bandage.

“I ken ye are scared, but I willna live without ye. This, I promise, me Beauty, fer I am yer beast—ferever.” His lips covered hers, gently at first and then more commanding. He bit her lower lip and then sucked it, sweeping his tongue under it and into her mouth, touching and sweeping across every area as if trying to memorize the taste and texture of her. His hands searched for hers and their fingers entwined as he placed them on either side of her head.

“Sweet mountain air that rolls across the Highlands, but I love ye. Me heart beats stronger when I'm near ye.” As if something snapped within him, he kissed her face, bit her jawline, and worked his way down to her breasts with quick kisses and sucking on her skin.

His dominant loving drew her into a vortex of passion and need. Every problem, every fear, every worrisome scenario left her mind. All that remained was Ronan—only him and the extent of her love for this complex man.

He lapped her areola with his tongue until her nipples rose in needy peaks. He sucked on one and she scratched his back and he chuckled. “Ye have a bit of tiger in ye. I like it.” He moved to her other nipple and her groin rose to meet his and rub against his erection. “Aye. What bloody sweet friction ye make. Ye drive me mad with need.”

She pulled her hand from his to yank up his gown. Her hand encircled his cock, her thumb moistened with the drop of moisture found at its end, and she spread it around his head. He groaned, “Beloved.” She pumped his erection a few times. “I canna hold back much longer.”

“Don't. Give me as much as your wounded body can handle. I'll take it all.” She pressed the head of his erection against her opening and he plunged in. This man was her home. Both groaned as he moved slowly and then faster within her.

“Give me yer hand back, luv. I want us joined everywhere in every way.”

She did and then she wrapped her legs around his hips. Their lips and tongues touched and mated, while Ronan increased the speed of his hips.

“Open yer beautiful blue eyes and stare at me. Connect to me in every way while we create our future of love and sheer joy. I adore ye. Me heart needs ye to beat.”

The tremors of her climax began, squeezing his cock. She gasped for every breath, her eyes focused on him. “I love you,” she mouthed. Sweat poured from his forehead as he continued pumping her, the feelings of euphoria growing. She pressed her lips against his shoulder as she screamed his name.

He kept moving and nipping at her neck until his release came, too. As he shuddered and emptied himself into her, his lips covered hers and she swallowed his groans of pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his back. They lay wrapped around each other, breathing hard, the trembling of their bodies easing, and love anchoring in each other's souls with whispered expressions of devotion.

Minutes later, when they'd regained their normal breathing patterns and the ability to speak complete sentences, Ronan took her hand bearing his ring and rubbed the stone with his thumb. “With ye, I feel as if I'm walking out of a cave of shadows, an emotional prison I've been in most of me life. I will nay allow him or anyone to take ye from me, fer ye are me sunlight. We belong together—forever.”

They were still hugging each other in their sexual afterglow from their second round of lovemaking, when Davina returned with an armful of clean gowns and towels. Anisa blushed over being naked when the nurse picked her gown off the floor and held it like a flag with a bit of a smirk dancing on her face. “How would the two of ye like a shower and fresh gowns?”

“Shower? Together?”

Anisa slapped Ronan's pecs and he laughed. “Why are ye blushing, luv? Davina kens we just fooked. She'll soon have the air freshener out to get rid of the smell of sex in here. Ye canna hide anything from an intelligent woman like her.”

“I won't. After all, we're engaged.” She extended her hand. “Have you ever seen a more beautiful ring? It's antique, and I adore antique jewelry.”

The nurse took Anisa's hand and praised the lovely diamond.

“Davina, he keeps telling me shifters heal faster. Is that right or was he feeding me a load of hooey?”

The nurse laughed. “I have a feeling from the blush to yer skin, he just showed ye he spoke the truth. Aye. Shifters recover quicker from wounds and most illnesses. Anisa, why dinna ye shower first while I fetch some gauze bandages? I'll help ye take the one off yer head before ye get in the shower. While ye're under the water, shampoo that side gently. We'll see how it's healing and how much hair ye have remaining.”

Anisa rolled out of bed. Ronan's warm broad hand caressed her spine and patted her bottom. Darn those feminine parts that wanted to dance the cancan again. The heat of a blush rolled over her cheeks. He wanted to play? Okay. She glanced over her shoulder and batted her eyes. “Too bad the shower is so small. We could soap up together.” She sashayed toward the bathroom, an extra sway to her behind.

Ronan groaned and the bedclothes rustled.

“Ye stay right where ye are, young buck. She canna shower with yer hands all over her. Besides, 'tis almost suppertime. Looks like ye both need to replenish yer energy—betrothed or not.”

Anisa stood in front of the mirror while Davina cut away the bandage. Her heart sank. Over half of her hair was gone. “I could really cry about now. Looks like we might as well shave the rest off like Ronan's. I'll look like a freak.”

The nurse stood behind her and grabbed her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. “Ye just think of all the people who have lost their hair from chemo. Now ye can sympathize. Plus ye have none of the sickness and weakness that goes along with cancer treatment. Ye'll be getting stronger. There's no room fer feeling sorry fer yerself. Now, let's take off this shoulder patch, too. Dinna scrub it, but ye can allow the warm water to flow over the wound.”

Davina's gentle rebuke brought shame to her. “You're right. I'm being overly self-centered. Will you shave my hair for me?”

The nurse smacked a kiss to Anisa's cheek. “Of course, dear one.”

She stepped into the shower, warm water sluicing down her back, and couldn't begin to describe how good it felt. How long had it been? Leaning her head back into the spray, she almost welcomed the sting over all her stitches. She was alive. She'd survived a gunfight and an attempt at poisoning, but she was still alive.

Soaping her washcloth, she pivoted so the water could run down her front while she scrubbed herself. Suddenly, for some unknown reason, tears started and she allowed them to flow. This was an emotional outlet she apparently needed. So, she ran the washcloth over her skin while tears flooded her face.

If she hadn't stolen the drone, she'd never have landed on Magnus and met Ronan, the love of her life. On the other hand, if she hadn't stolen the drone—French government property—she wouldn't be in the fix she was in now. She had a fair idea of what lay ahead for her. She'd be escorted back to Paris, stripped of her rank, court-martialed, and jailed. The evidence she'd copied, she was pretty sure would absolve her of treason charges. All that remained was stealing a drone, flying into another country's airspace, and going AWOL.

In the process of it all, she'd break both Ronan's and Magnus's hearts. As Shakespeare wrote, “The most unkindest cut of all.” And she'd done it to the person she loved the most—dual persona and all.

Someone turned off the water, and she glanced through bleary eyes to find Ronan holding a towel open for her. “Step out, luv. 'Tis enough tears fer one day.”

“Was I that loud?” She allowed him to dry her off after he handed her a smaller towel for her hair.
God, how embarrassing.

“Nay, I doubt anyone could hear ye, but Magnus. Ye ken how good his hearing is. He told me ye were crying. He was right upset, so he was. I came to take care of ye.” He wrapped the towel around her and carried her to his bed. “Ye have a lot of stitches in yer scalp, sweetheart. I had nay idea ye were wounded so badly. Are ye suffering from headaches?”

“Yes. Until you hold me close.”

“Och, listen to ye with the silver tongue. I'd gather ye'd make a better politician than a soldier. Ye know how to say the right thing.” He kissed her quickly and ran his fingers over the bullet entry wound, his eyebrows dipping into a V. “Ye've been through so much. A good cry clears the soul.”

Davina whizzed in with new bandages, scissors, and a razor. She pointed to Ronan. “In the shower with ye. We've got a beauty makeover to do here. Anisa's decided to shave off her remaining hair, too. What a pair of monkey arses the two of ye will make.”

Ronan grabbed a couple of towels and a gown. “Aye. A matching set of billiard balls.”

While Davina shaved Anisa's head, she told the nurse about the visit from the French Minister of Defense earlier. “He's going to take me back. I can tell. I'll be put on trial for stealing the drone, going off base, and who knows what else. More than likely I'll end up in jail.”

Davina clucked her tongue as she tied a towel tightly around Anisa's neck. “Is yer man aware of this?”

“Partially. He keeps saying he'll save me. Like he can just march in and carry me out. He listens to me tell him what will probably happen and then declares he can't live without me. So, he hears, but he's not accepting the inevitable. Will you check on him from time to time? Both Ronan and Magnus?”

“Of course.” Davina snipped Anisa's hair close to her scalp. “And his family will hold him close, too. They always take care of each other.”

“He'll come to hate me, you know. Once I'm taken away and he grieves for my loss for a while, the pain of love lost will morph into the disgust of betrayal.”

“Och, I didna believe it fer a minute. I see how he looks at ye. As if his verra existence depends on having ye. Besides, ye canna be sure what the future will hold.” She soaped Anisa's scalp and began shaving it. As the nurse got closer to the wounded areas, Anisa's skin pulled and stung.

“I'm going to leave the bandage off yer head. The stitches are healing enough that just applying ointment to it two or three times a day will be enough. But your bullet wound and muscle repair require bandages for a couple days yet.” She blotted Anisa's head dry with a towel before a pair of lips pressed several warm kisses over her newly bald skin.

“She has a head shaped pretty enough to be bald. Dinna ye think, Davina?” Ronan leaned his head against Anisa's. “Take a picture of the two bald cantaloupes. We'll laugh about this, years from now.”

Davina took a picture with her phone. It was all Anisa could do to force a smile to halfway match the sexy grin Ronan exposed.

The jangle of the meal cart working its way down the corridor prompted both patients to get in their own beds. Davina directed who got which tray while she cleaned up her shaving supplies.

Between spoonfuls of soup, Ronan leaned his head against his pillows propped behind him. “I wonder if Bryce has stopped looking at little Linsey yet. She is a beauty.”

“He seemed very concerned over his wife.” Frenchmen were not as shielding.

“Aye. After all they've both been through concerning childbirth, 'tis nay wonder.” He glanced at her, one of his slow, sexy-as-hell grins softening his features and moistening parts of hers. “Wait till ye see how protective I'll be of ye once we ken fer sure ye're pregnant. Tonight will be special. I've never made love to a bald woman before.”

He winked and she stared at the tasteless chicken breast on her plate. They didn't use condoms earlier and wouldn't have any to use tonight. Thanks to Magnus and his condom-poking prank, she might already be pregnant. She might end up in jail and pregnant. What would happen to her child?

“Sweetheart, look at me.” His deep Scottish burr warmed her from the inside out and woke up the cancan girls. Her gaze swept to his and he blinked his eyes a couple of times, evidently closing the shield so Magnus couldn't hear. “Ye're worried about the French government taking ye away from me. I'm nay dumb. I ken it might happen. I dinna talk about it much because I dinna want to taint the time we have left together. Ye've taught me to be positive, to look on the brighter side of life.”

Oh God, I'm going to cry again.

“I also ken me and me brothers will move heaven and earth to come get ye. If it takes a year or five, I will find ye. I will have ye in me arms again. I've lost me da. I willna lose me heart, for that's what ye became the moment ye gave me a dose of sass that first night in front of me cabin.”

She blotted the moisture from her cheeks. “Well, you got my attention in your kilt, but I fell in love with you when you sauntered away from me in those shredded sleep pants, your ass hanging out, and not a blessed clue.” She started to laugh. “I will always remember that sight.”

The next morning, after Ronan had his shower, a technician from the radiology department came in to get him. He said Dr. Thane wanted scans done to check on Ronan's internal healing from the surgery that removed the two bullets. He settled onto the wheelchair and winked at Anisa. No doubt he knew what she was thinking. She was sore enough to verify, he was healing quite nicely.

She took her shower and dressed in a clean gown. She was rubbing the ointment onto her scalp when she walked into her room and came to an abrupt stop. Her heart rose into her throat and tried to complete a full beat. She trembled from both the shock and her deepest fear coming true. The Minister of Defense and two French officers stood at the foot of her bed.

“We've brought you clothes to travel in. You'll be returning to Paris this morning. Please be hasty in getting dressed.” Sober-faced Chasen Laroche pointed to the bag. Her bag, in fact, with her black coat draped over it. Someone had been in her apartment. Well, what the hell. She'd probably never live there again. Her new place of residence would be a tiny cell.

There was no use in arguing. Both soldiers were armed. Granted, she could disarm them with a few well-placed kicks and hits, but her capture was inevitable. No doubt knowing her training, the Minister had brought along the best men at his disposal. Her list of crimes was long enough without adding “resisting arrest” or “assaulting an officer” to them.

She snatched the bag. “I'll be about five minutes, sir.” She gave a weak smile. “Obviously, it won't take me long to fix my hair.” Inside the small piece of luggage were familiar underwear that gave her an ick factor that someone had rifled through her drawers to choose them. A white silk blouse and navy wool suit with matching Prada heels. The checked scarf she would have artfully draped around her neck, she wrapped around her head and secured with a twisted knot. Her hands shook so badly, it took her three tries. Buttoning the front of her blouse was like threading a needle while riding a bull in a rodeo, like one she'd been to once in the States. She had to stop several times to take deep, calming breaths.

If she thought of who she was walking away from, she'd crumble to the floor in tears. Doubting the Minister would give her time to write Ronan a note, she was leaving him another parting message. One she hoped he'd understand.

She carried her empty bag out of the bathroom and laid the sapphire necklace she'd treasured since her graduation over the pillow on Ronan's freshly made bed. The thought had crossed her mind to put her engagement ring there, too, but it was the only thing from him she had and she wasn't giving it up. Besides, he would look on that as an insult. Better to leave him something of hers.

On a pivot, she looked at Chasen Laroche. “I'm ready to go, sir.”

“Your cooperation will not go unnoticed.” He nodded, but never once offered her a smile.

There were no longer guards standing outside her door. She supposed they'd been ordered to stand down. The two soldiers walked in time with her as they escorted her to the elevator. Had all this been planned to coincide with Ronan's tests? Were the tests even necessary or just a smokescreen?

Either way, they were being torn apart—and she would never recover from the loss of her beloved Scot. She stepped onto the elevator, her military stance straight and precise, and fought to contain her emotions.