Authors: Donna Kauffman
Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary Romance, #Contemporary Women
“This was taken the summer before my dad died. He was the one who took it. Zach and I had found this old spring out on Jarrett’s farm property.”
“Where was this?”
“Madison County, right smack in front of the Blue Ridge Mountains.”
“Looks beautiful.” She traced a finger over the tree and small watering hole to the side of the cluster of tanned, smiling kids.
“It was. I figured out how to get the spring dug out and Zach constructed the rope swing on the tree. It took almost all summer before the water got deep enough to swim in, but that August we spent every day out there.” He smiled at the memories. “The Three Musketeers.”
“Four,” Adria put in, pointing at Dara.
Dane shot her a wry look. “My sister would love you.”
“I bet she didn’t let a little male chauvinism slow her down one bit.”
Dane tensed a little. “No, not Dara. She was knocked hard for a loop when Dad died. She’s lost a few heroes in her life.”
“And Zach?”
Dane’s laugh was still rusty, but it felt good. “Loves her so much it makes me sick.”
“Said like a true brother.”
“Zach Brogan was the last man Dara ever thought would be a hero. She’d pretty much closed herself off.”
“Like you?” she asked.
“Yeah. But for different reasons.” He paused, then said, “Actually, Zach is about the last guy I’d have ever chosen for my brother-in-law.”
Adria’s eyes widened at the slight edge to his tone. “Why? I thought he was your best friend too?”
Dane shook his head, feeling awkward as he realized just how many levels there were to real intimacy. In a way, he felt more vulnerable now than he had been naked by the picnic table. “He still is,” he said finally. “Zach is a thrill seeker, by blood and by profession. Let’s just say that I’d trust him to get me off a mile-high cliff without a scratch, but I wouldn’t trust him with my sister.”
“Also spoken like a true brother.” She added, “Which, considering I don’t have one, makes my opinion worth nil on this subject, I guess. But if he loves her, then it can’t be too bad a match.”
“No,” he admitted. “It’s not. In fact, it’s great and I’m happy for both of them. Dara’s happier than I’ve ever seen her.”
“I take it they’re newlyweds?”
“Do you think I wear white tuxedos for kicks?”
Adria grinned broadly. “I’m sorry you had to be called away from such a momentous occasion. Although I guess it’s not the first time.”
Dane remembered how odd he’d felt as Zach and Dara had said their vows. Proud, happy, confused … lonely. He’d chalked it up to having watched Jarrett say those same words not a month or so earlier. He was the last unattached Musketeer.
Not that he wanted to be attached, or envied Zach and Jarrett, he’d told himself.
He looked at Adria—and questioned every decision he’d ever made about his life as a single man.
“Is Jarrett married now too?”
“Yes. The wedding was a few months ago.”
The silence that spun out between them thrummed with anticipation. Dane had no idea what he was waiting for. He started to stand, intent on returning the picture and getting back to mapping out their strategy. She held him back with a simple hand on his arm.
“I bet it’s strange having your foundation altered so swiftly,” she said. “Maybe you don’t even think about them, or see them that often. But they are your closest friends, and, in many ways, you define yourself by your personal relationships. Then they make this big change, and suddenly nothing’s the same anymore.”
“You’re spooky, you know that?”
She shook her head. “Nah. I may not have siblings or childhood buddies, but I know how I felt when I lost my grandfather, then my father. I know how it altered how I thought of myself, and therefore how I thought of Tony.”
“Death is a lot more profound than marriage. Not to mention permanent. I still have Zach and Jarrett in my life.”
She let her hand slide down to his, let her fingers rest between his. “True. You’re lucky. Don’t lose sight of that.”
Dane twined his fingers with hers. He didn’t have to tug too hard to get her to move closer. Another little tug and she was in his arms. He kissed her, slowly, leisurely, memorizing her lips, her taste. He wanted to savor it. Save it.
“Yes,” he whispered against that spot below her ear. “I’m just beginning to realize how lucky I am.”
Adria was starting to writhe beneath him when the phone rang. Dane swore. “This is getting ridiculous.”
Adria was breathless, but said, “At least we hadn’t taken our clothes off.”
“I’m beginning to doubt if I’ll ever have that distinct pleasure again.” The phone rang a third time and his machine picked up. Adria stiffened beneath him. He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her, the protective
urge instantaneous. That she let him brightened his mood a little.
“Aramis, Athos here,” said the caller.
Adria heaved a sigh of obvious relief. Dane reached for the portable phone without letting her go. “That was fast,” he said into the phone.
“I’m on my honeymoon. This better be life or death, buddy.”
“Why do I get the feeling I could have called ten months from now and gotten the same answer?”
Jarrett chuckled. “Yeah, well, sue me.”
The ache that had been in Dane’s chest since the night his sister had taken her vows eased slightly. He was truly happy for both his friends and their wives. And not so confused anymore either, he thought when Adria’s hand crept into his.
“You know how I love fairy-tale endings,” Dane said soberly, turning to the matter at hand.
“Yeah. Always seems to be another dragon, though, you know?”
“You got it. Always another Rapunzel in the tower, looking to get out.”
“Where’s a good safe castle when you need one, eh?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“You talk to Porthos?”
“Nah. D’Artagnan would kill me.”
Another rusty chuckle. “Yeah, if Porthos didn’t first.” There was a pause, then: “I don’t think Sleeping Beauty here will mind too much.” There was a squeal on the other end just before the phone was muffled.
Dane felt his neck heat.
A moment later Jarrett spoke again. “Remember the summer of eighty-nine?”
Dane thought back. The three of them had met out past Culpepper in the middle of the night to get an early start on a climbing trip. Only Zach would consider parasails standard mountain-hiking equipment. It had been one helluva weekend.
“Yes,” he answered. “And so does my back.”
“Same time, same place.”
“Thanks.” It had been a long time since he’d asked anything of his friends. And lately he hadn’t been much of a participant in Musketeer adventures. “I wouldn’t have called, but this one … I owe you.”
“It’s about time, Aramis. Or should I say Romeo?”
Dane grinned and tightened his hold on Adria. “Must be contagious.”
“D’Artagnan might have forgiven you for this one.”
“One step at a time, brother, one step at a time.”
“I hear you. But I’m here to say, happily
ever after is pretty damn good. Take care of yourself.” He hung up.
This peaceful, content Jarrett was not the intensely driven, private person Dane had grown up with. He almost felt guilty for dragging Jarrett back into the intrigue business. But he’d had no choice. Jarrett still had the second-best contacts on earth.
The person with the first best was his next call.
“Everything okay with Athos?” Adria asked.
Considering their intimate journey into his past, Dane didn’t doubt for a moment Adria had figured out his part of the coded conversation with Jarrett.
“Better than all right. Although it doesn’t feel too good asking the guy to help.”
“You’d do the same for him.”
“Yes, I would. But it’s not the same. Not anymore. He has someone besides himself to worry about.”
Matching his seriousness, Adria said, “I appreciate all you’re doing for me. I imagine asking for help isn’t on your list of favorite things to do. If there was any way I could pay you back—”
Dane cut her off with a shake of his head. He reached up and brushed back several wayward strands of hair from her cheeks. “Maybe
he and I have more in common than I realized.”
“Dane, I can take care of myself. Don’t—”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said, his voice suddenly tight. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how this is all going to shake out. Whether you’ll want to be with me a week from now, a month from now.” She looked as if she had wondered the same thing. “But I do know I want to make love to you again. On a bed, on the floor, against the wall. In the kitchen, the bedroom, and at twenty thousand feet in a sky that matches your eyes.” She gasped and his body went rock hard in response. “I want to know about the stories your dad told you at our picnic table, your granddad’s time in a DC-3, and why you became the best air-traffic controller the Mike Munroney Aeronautical Center has ever graduated.” He pushed his fingers into her hair, cupping her head as he tilted her face to his. “I want you. All of you.”
Her mouth was less than a breath away from his. “Then make that other call and get this thing moving.” Her lips brushed his as she spoke. “Because I want those very same things and I don’t want any more distractions.”
“I’m calling, I’m calling,” he said, but he was kissing her. He couldn’t not kiss her.
Their passion rapidly escalated until Adria nudged Dane away. “This is insane. You, me,
those creepy phone calls.” She shivered and Dane drew her more tightly against him. “I just want it over. One way or the other. I’m not too sure I even care about the third plane at this point.”
Dane relaxed his hold on her. “Yes, you do. You’re just tired and spooked and worried about losing a job you’ve given your life to. What’s happening between us isn’t lessening the confusion.” When he started to move away, she grabbed his arms, her grip strong, but he didn’t let her talk. “Maybe we should cool things down. Maybe I should be doing my job and letting you focus your energies on that damn plane and on keeping your job.”
“Maybe so,” she said. “But life doesn’t hand us things in neat little packages, you know. We just get it hurled at us in ungainly globs.”
Despite his best intentions, Dane gave in to her teasing. “I’m not sure I like being an ‘ungainly glob.’ ”
Adria traced his face with her fingers, spending a painfully long, body-tightening time on his lips. “Yeah, but you’re
my
ungainly glob.” He bared his teeth and playfully nipped at her finger. “Do you really think it’s necessary to do all this cloak-and-dagger stuff? I mean, I could do the scarf-and-sunglasses bit and check into a local hotel for a few days
while you get your last source to run down our fake reporter.”
“I wouldn’t have contacted Jarrett if I didn’t think it was necessary. I’m not too comfortable with you even being here this long. I’ve got the feeling your every move—and quite possibly mine—is being monitored. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Even the phones? That was the reason for all that fairy-tale Musketeer mumbo jumbo right?”
“I just have a bad feeling about this. Better safe than sorry.”
Adria was silent for a moment, then said, “Okay, so, who is this last source person?”
Dane’s lips quirked. “Her name is Beaudine Delacroix and she’d cane me if she heard herself referred to as a ‘last’ anything.”
“She must be quite a woman to intimidate ‘the Predator.’ ”
Dane didn’t disagree. “She works for Zach. Dara calls her a Cajun Mrs. Doubtfire. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my life.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Present company excepted.”
Lips tingling, Adria asked, “How long will it take to get through to her?”
“Not long at all.”
“And what time do we rendezvous with ‘Athos’?”
“Midnight.”
A wicked look gleamed in Adria’s eyes. “That should leave us plenty of time.”
“For what?” he asked, though his body was already ten steps ahead on the right track.
Adria freed the top two buttons of his shirt. “Make the call, then I’ll show you.”
“Adria,” Dane warned, knowing all their energies should be devoted exclusively to the case right now. For both their sakes one of them should play bad cop right now.
She slipped her hand inside his shirt.
He made the call.
Just before nine o’clock, there was a knock on the door. Adria froze, her gaze locked on Dane’s as he sat across from her at the small table in his kitchen. They had spent the better part of the evening going over his files and his preliminary findings. It had been an exercise in frustration. There wasn’t a trace of hard evidence to support her claim.
“You expecting anyone?” she whispered.
Dane shook his head as the rapping came again. A finger to his lips, he slid from his chair and made his way to the door.
“Aramis, you in, ol’ buddy?”
Adria saw the tension ease immediately from Dane’s shoulders and back. He quickly opened the door and ushered in the unexpected guest. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, but his expression made
it clear he wasn’t disappointed by the appearance of the tall, blond man.
Adria couldn’t see the stranger’s face, but she definitely saw his form. And he was no slouch. Tall and well muscled, he planted big fists on jean-clad hips.
“I’m here on Damsel Detail,” he announced cheerfully. Obviously Dane’s less-than-cordial greeting hadn’t affected him in the least. Then he turned, directing his cocky grin right at her. “You must be the damsel.”
He stalked across the room and stuck his hand out. “Hi, I’m Zach Brogan.” He shot an amused look back at Dane, who had followed him. “Or is that Porthos?”
Dane scowled. “Beaudine has a big mouth.”
“As wide as a Cajun moon, my friend,” he said. “Or should I say, brother?”
That got an abashed smile from Dane. Zach just laughed and turned his attention back to Adria.
Adria shook Zach’s hand, immediately liking this big bear of a man. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Adria Burke.” She added, “The damsel.”
Zach was clearly impressed. “Yeah, you’ll do.” To Dane, he said, “Did you really think Beaudine would let you and McCullough have all the fun and leave me out?”