How else could she explain what had happened this afternoon? Over the years, it had been a carefully unspoken rule in her home that no one walked up behind Raine without announcing himself first. No one reached out a hand toward her unless he was standing in her view. And nobody
ever
put hands on her without her permission.
So what had happened earlier? Had she given Macauley tacit permission to touch her? Where had that acquired reaction gone to? And why had it disappeared under the touch of this man?
The thoughts echoed in her head, disturbing her. Each step she’d taken to regain a normal life had been met before with quiet self- satisfaction. She could go out now and not come home until after dark. She didn’t like to, the discomfort was still there, but she could do it. She could stand in a line with someone behind her, and as long as that person didn’t touch her, no one would be embarrassed. It might still make her sweat, the hairs on the back of her neck might prickle, but she could do that, too. She should be thrilled that she’d finally conquered yet another one of her fears this afternoon, but instead it filled her with confusion. Why should this man be the one to release her from that plague?
She took a step away from him, and then another. For the first time she felt afraid of him. Not physically, no, but emotional fear, that was something else. Why she should feel this close to a relative stranger was a question too complex to answer.
“Whatever similarity you think you see between us is in your imagination,” he said harshly. “You’re being threatened, I’m here to protect you. It’s as simple, as basic as that. Don’t start romanticizing anything about this. Romantic is the last word that should be used to describe someone like me.” He turned on his heel and stalked into the house.
Raine picked up the chair he’d knocked over and leaned against it. She would never have guessed that being threatened by a maniac would help her combat yet another inner fear. Somehow she knew that Macauley would object to being thanked for her self-improvement, but the credit was indeed his. And that meant that he had some strange connection with her. One she was still at a loss to explain.
The next evening Raine and Mac ate in silence. The only time he spoke at all was to answer some question she put to him, and finally she gave up the effort. He seemed determined to maintain a distance from her, and she suspected that meant she’d been closer last night with her probing than he felt comfortable with. Whatever the cause, she respected his withdrawal for what it was. She hadn’t meant to pry, but that was exactly what she’d done.
“Looks like I owe you another apology,” she said tentatively.
He hesitated in his chewing for a fraction of a minute. “What for?”
“I pushed last night, and I didn’t respect your privacy.” She made an expression of self-deprecation. “All the things I hate having done to me. My brothers accuse me of using my sense of honesty as a weapon and beating people over the head with it. I hope I didn’t do any lasting damage.”
He swallowed. And then, unwillingly, his mouth quirked in an almost smile. “I’m still in one piece.”
“Well, good,” she said lightly. “I’d hate to think that you were one more victim to my mad, impetuous quest for pushing people over the edge. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to talk to me anymore.”
Actually, he’d given that idea some thought, and it had its merits. But he should have known that it would be a useless tactic with Raine. Last night she’d gotten him furious enough to strangle her, and tonight she was charming him with self-effacing humor. He wasn’t a man easy to charm, but she did it so easily, so effortlessly. The wry amusement, usually directed at herself, and the huge eyes, full of whatever emotion she was feeling at the moment, were incredibly beguiling. They would have enchanted a less cautious man, drawn him irresistibly closer. He wondered why it was that he hadn’t been tripping over her admirers. She was attractive enough, although she didn’t seem to give her looks any great thought. She didn’t move with the conscious invitation of a woman aware of her power over men, but she was graceful. Some men would be attracted to that slim, delicate body and offbeat sense of humor. Where were those men? Were they all blind, or stupid?
He stared at her silently for a moment. Right now her eyes reflected her sincerity. They were perfect mirrors for whatever emotion she was feeling at the moment, as easy to read as a child’s. He’d observed fear in them, determination and anger. He’s seen them teasing, warm and friendly. But whatever she was feeling didn’t control her; just the opposite, in fact. He was coming to realize that she was a master at tamping down her most bothersome emotions until she’d conquered them. She had a kind of courage that was difficult to resist, and recognition of that made him edgy. Women like her weren’t for men like him, and the fact that he even had to remind himself of that was proof that the job here was getting to him.
She
was getting to him.
She raised her eyebrows then and he realized belatedly that he’d been staring. He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” Changing the subject smoothly, he asked, “I’ve been meaning to ask you where you met Greg Winters. How did he come to be your accountant?”
She smiled in remembrance. “He was taking an art class at night at the university. I had been a guest speaker, and he’d asked my opinion of a painting he was doing. A bunch of us ended up going out for coffee, and he and I started talking. He told me what he did and convinced me that I could use an accountant.” She shrugged. “I agreed to let him take a look at my finances. They were really a mess. I mean, I don’t really have the time or the inclination to look into money markets and that kind of thing. It bores me.”
Mac frowned. “You didn’t hire him just like that, did you?”
She felt a flash of irritation, which she pushed away. After all, he didn’t sound half as judgmental as her father had when he’d found out. He’d wanted her to fire Greg right away and turn her financial matters over to Simon’s private accountant. It had been one more thing they’d disagreed about. Meeting his gaze squarely, she responded, “Greg gave me references, and I checked with all of them. He really knows his stuff.”
“So he’s a better accountant than he is an artist?” he inquired lazily.
She opened her mouth to answer, then shut it. “Much better,” she agreed impishly. “He has as much artistic skill as I have financial brilliance. So actually, we suit pretty well.”
But not as well as Winters would like, Mac thought silently. He made a mental note to check with Trey on anything else he might have found out about the man. There was nothing in Raine’s voice when she spoke of him to suggest more than friendship on her part. Yet Winters’s feelings for Raine were as transparent as glass. From the conversation he’d overheard in the kitchen several days earlier, it was apparent that even Klassen had picked up on them.
The doorbell rang then, and they rose simultaneously. He reached out and captured her wrist. She sent him a silent, questioning look, ignoring the tingling in her skin beneath his fingers.
Giving no explanation, he moved in front of her, then proceeded into the house. She heaved a sigh of resignation. For a few minutes she’d almost forgotten the real reason for his presence here.
“Mac, good to see you again. Where’s my daughter?” Simon Michaels stepped through the door Mac had opened, clasping the younger man’s hand in a hearty shake. Spying Raine coming down the hall he said, “There you are, Raine. I hadn’t heard from you recently, so I thought I’d stop by and see how things are going. Your mother had planned to come, too, but she didn’t have a good day today.”
Concern flared immediately at the mention of her mother. “Has she taken a turn for the worse?”
Simon waved a placating hand. “Now, don’t worry, honey, she’s fine. She just tried to do too much today, and got overtired. You know how I’m always telling her to take it easy. She’ll be more rested tomorrow.”
Raine wasn’t convinced. For as long as she could remember, her father had been protecting his wife, watching over her health with an almost solicitous care. He was capable of overreacting to a normal day’s tiredness, and he was just as capable of glossing over the real state of his wife’s health to avoid alarming Raine. She chewed her lip for a moment, surveying him. “I think I’ll call her,” she said. “Unless you think she’s asleep already.”
“Excellent idea,” he said heartily. “Hearing from you will perk her right up.”
Silently she turned to Mac. He retrieved her cell and handed it to her. Simon cleared his throat. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen, Raine? Then you can talk as long as you wish and we won’t bother you. Go ahead,” he urged as she studied him suspiciously.
She flicked her gaze at Macauley. He inclined his head slightly.
Aware that she was being manipulated, she decided that her concern for her mother was most important at the moment. She turned and left for the kitchen.
As soon as she’d exited, Simon turned to Mac. He’d noted the look the man had shared with Raine but didn’t comment on it. “Well, why don’t you give me a progress report, Mac? Have there been any more threatening letters?”
Mac shook his head. “Not so far.” He gave the man a rundown on the security precautions that had been completed to date.
“That sounds well and good, but what about this maniac who’s been threatening her? I called that damned detective again, and he’s no closer than before to solving this thing. I get the feeling it isn’t exactly high on his list of priorities, either,” Simon added disgustedly.
“I’ve talked to him, too,” Mac said.
“Well? What do you think?” Simon demanded. “God knows, the beefed-up security can’t hurt, but she remains in danger until the person sending these letters is caught. Surely you realize that.”
“What I realize,” Mac returned, in a deceptively mild voice, “is that you set me up when you got me to come out and look things over.” He propped himself against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms.
Simon gave him an impatient look. “What do you mean? I told you that Raine needed your services.”
Mac nodded judiciously. “You did. You said you wanted me to come out, make her home safe, and judge just how much danger she’s in.”
“And that’s just what you’ve done. I don’t know what else you’re talking about.”
“You counted on the fact,” Mac continued softly, “that once I was here I’d talk Raine into my staying. That’s one little fact you forgot to mention, Simon. That you never told her the extent of the job you hired me for.”
The man didn’t bat an eyelash. “What I counted on,” he corrected, “was you. That you’d come here and take care of things. And you’re doing fine, so far. Hell, son, if I hadn’t known you were the man for the job, I wouldn’t have hounded you into taking this case.”
Mac ignored the flattery. “You tried to manipulate me,” he said flatly. “And Raine.” He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. “Don’t try it again.”
Simon’s jaw clenched. The look he’d intercepted between the man and Raine took on a whole new intimacy, and he didn’t like it at all. “You don’t speak for my daughter, O’Neill.”
“I think I do. At least in this instance. And you know it. That’s why you took so long to come by. You were waiting for her to cool down a little before you talked to her again.”
“I’ve been busy, and I knew I could trust you to get things done.”
“There isn’t anything else that you’ve forgotten to tell me, is there, Simon?” Mac asked caustically. “I’ve never been much for surprises.”
There was a moment’s silence as their eyes clashed. Simon looked away first. “You know everything you need to about this case, more than I know, most likely. I have a hell of a lot more faith in you than I do in that overworked detective downtown. You’ll take care of Raine for me, and she’ll get back to the life she was meant to have.”
Mac faced him impassively. “And that is?”
Simon waved a hand carelessly. “Raine needs a husband. She’s a sweet girl, and sooner or later she’s going to meet a nice, respectable young man and settle down. I’ve introduced her to several promising young executives myself. It’s only a matter of time before she chooses one and marries.”
The words were harmless enough, but Mac knew there was a message in them for him. A nice young man good enough for Raine would win Simon’s vote for son-in-law. The description could never be applied to the likes of Mac O’Neill. He shook his head in bemusement. Simon really had the most incredible gall. Mac was good enough to keep his daughter safe, but if it hadn’t been for the threat hanging over Raine’s head, he knew without a doubt that Simon would have preferred Raine didn’t get within ten miles of him. And the hell of it was, he couldn’t fault the man for feeling that way. What he didn’t understand was why Simon thought it necessary to issue the subtle warning in the first place.
Raine’s entry into the room interrupted Mac’s thoughts. “Mother’s nurse said she was asleep. I’ll get in touch with her tomorrow.”
“You do that, honey. And now I’d better go. I have to stop by the office for some files I need to work on tonight.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” she offered firmly.
“No, that’s not necessary—”
“Oh, but I insist,” she said, hooking her arm through his and leading him out. “You and I haven’t really had a chance to talk. And there’s so much I have to say to you.”