“Nothing to do?”
He shook his head slowly the overly long black strands caressing his neck as she wanted to caress it with her lips.
“Just be you, Kei,” he said gently. “All you. It’s about your pleasure, honey. It’s about what makes you burn, makes you scream for more. It’s about your fantasies and desires. I’m just your guide.”
“My guide,” she breathed out roughly as she clutched the edges of her dress together and stepped toward the stairs. “You’re not guiding me, Mac. I feel more like a very small boat riding a tidal wave.”
“Become the wave, baby.” He grinned. “It’s real easy.”
“So is drowning, I’m told.” Shaking her head, she started up the stairs, praying her legs would hold her. “I’m taking a shower. I’ll see you later.”
“Keiley.” His voice stopped her as she started up the stairs.
Turning, she stared back at him, almost shivering at the power in his expression, the sensuality and pure unadulterated lust.
“Don’t think this to death. Thinking about it will only make it seem frightening, and more than what it is. And no matter what gossip Delia Staten wants to start, no one will know but the three of us. No one, Kei.”
She nodded slowly. “As I said, I’ll think about it.”
“You do that,” he murmured. “And I’ll keep seducing.”
She waved her hand back at him as she moved up the stairs. “Go harass Jethro. I’m too tired and aggravated to deal with you.”
Mac watched her go with a smile. The short little skirt of her dress skimmed over her perky little butt and swished above her knees. It wasn’t the cutest little summer dress she had, but it did wonders for her lightly tanned legs and bare feet.
She was the most honestly sensual woman he had ever met in his life. Nothing like Delia Madden Staten. Even at twenty, Delia had been a calculating witch. She had been determined to possess him, and Mac had been just as determined to foil her plans.
Hell, that had been more than fifteen years ago. He hadn’t returned to Scotland Neck until he came back with his wife. And it seemed Delia was still holding a grudge.
“I remember telling you that small-town life would make you nuts, Mac,” Jethro drawled from the end of the hallway.
Mac ran his hand over his jaw. “I’ll deal with Delia if I have to. If that doesn’t work I’ll talk to her mother-in-law. Victoria used to be reasonable.”
“You’re going to talk to mommy-in-law?” Jethro snickered.
“Mommy-in-law could chew you up and spit you out for breakfast,” Mac informed him as he restrained a shudder. “But she can be reasonable.”
“And if she’s not?”
Mac’s smile became feral then. “Then I pull out the badge and put the fear of the Bureau in their asses. If that doesn’t work, then you can bring the Bureau down on them. With Delia, subtlety doesn’t work so well.”
He should know. He had tried subtle from the age of sixteen to eighteen with the manipulating little witch. What Delia couldn’t possess, she tried to destroy. He had learned that lesson well during their youths.
Mac had recognized the trait in her easily enough. She reminded him much too much of his father. The rabid determination to win at all costs and to possess rather than to love.
“Maybe I should slip into town tonight and see what I can see. Hear what I can hear.” Jethro moved through the foyer toward the stairs. “Loan me the Harley. Dollars to donuts I come back with info.”
“But will you come back with the Harley?” Mac grimaced.
“We’ll both return unharmed,” Jethro promised with that damned smug smile of his.
“It’s not you I’m worried about, bro,” Mac growled as he pulled the key from the key ring he dug out of his pocket. “That Harley is second only to Keiley. Take care of her or you die.”
Jethro flipped him the finger as Mac flipped him the key.
“Keep the bird in hand, Jeth, and the Harley on her wheels.”
“She’ll fly like a bird and land like a cloud,” Jethro promised on his way out the door. “Like a cloud.”