Forged in Steele (KGI #7)

Forged in Steele (KGI #7) Page 10

He took a step forward and people moved left and right to clear a path toward her bed. He leaned over and kissed her forehead and then gently touched each of the blankets surrounding the babies’ heads.

“Cute kids,” he said.

Ethan and Rachel both smiled.

“I’m going to get on out of here and leave you to rest. You’ve had a hard day, little mama. Better catch some Zs now because when you go home there’s no sending them back to the nursery.”

Rachel laughed. “Don’t remind me! And thank you, Steele. I’m glad you were here.”

“I’m glad I was too,” he said softly.

And he was. Today had been special in the Kelly family. Not just the immediate family but also the extended family that included all the KGI members.

They’d all had a hand in the mission that brought Rachel back home where she belonged. It was only fitting that they all be present when Rachel stepped out of the shadows and fully into the sun. The entire family was gathered, happy and rejoicing over the addition of two new Kellys into the pack.

Yeah, it was a good day. The perfect end to—and in many ways the beginning of—a chapter in Ethan’s and Rachel’s life.

He stepped back, making a sudden decision, one that had been nagging him for days. He’d sworn that he’d have that one night with Maren and never look back. But he wanted to see her again. She was becoming an obsession and he didn’t do obsession. The only thing he’d ever been obsessed with was his job.

But now he was overwhelmed with the urge to see her again. He wanted to touch her, feel her against his skin, inhale her scent and lose himself in her arms for another night.

As he walked past Sam, he motioned for him to follow him into the hall. Sam walked out, his brow furrowed.

“What’s up?” Sam asked.

“I’m bugging out. Know I said I’d be available for training, but that’s going to have to wait. If you need me, buzz me. I won’t be home.”

Sam sent him a curious look but didn’t pry. Not that Steele would have offered up any further information.

“Things are quiet, but then we rarely have much advance notice. I’ll be in touch if I need you. You going to let your team know you’ll be out of pocket or should I?”

Steele shook his head. “I’ll let them know. Catch you later.”

“Want to use the Kelly jet?” Sam offered.

Steele didn’t rise to the bait. Sam had guessed he was traveling off, but he wasn’t about to use the KGI jet and have it logged that he was flying to Costa Rica. He’d catch his own damn flight.

CHAPTER 9

MAREN applied a tourniquet to her own arm and made a fist as she lined up the butterfly needle to insert in her vein. It was hard to focus on drawing her own blood when the reason for doing it weighed so heavily on her mind.

She was probably being silly. They had used condoms after all. But her period was regular to the day. Never early. Never late. And she was three days late.

Not to mention her queasiness in the mornings, and her breasts were tender to the touch. It was probably all in her head. A part of her wondered if subconsciously she wanted to be pregnant and her body was just playing along with that hope. Mind over matter.

But a pregnancy would be a complication she was ill equipped for. Not to mention she doubted Steele would take the news well that he might be up for impending fatherhood. No way in hell she was breathing a word to him until she knew for certain one way or another. The last thing she wanted was to get him worked up over a possibility and then have it all be a false alarm. He’d never come near her again, and who could blame him? Nothing like a pregnancy scare to prevent any future intimacy.

Not that she imagined he would be lining up for a repeat of that first night. He’d made himself abundantly clear that it was a onetime deal and that he wanted her out of his system. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But it was doubtful she’d see any more of him. Though he’d said it would be business as usual, and it wasn’t as if they were chatty all the other times they came into contact, but there was no way she’d be able to look him in the eye and pretend she didn’t know what he looked like naked. Nor did she want to forget what he looked like naked. That was a memory she’d take to her grave.

With a sigh she packaged the blood sample, affixed the fictitious patient name, though it was silly since she and whatever lab rat did the testing would be the only people to see the name, and put it in the bag with the other blood samples from her patients she’d gathered.

She’d send off her blood sample with the rest of the labs she’d collected for her own peace of mind. Once the thought of pregnancy had entered her mind, it had ruled her entire existence and she’d been unable to think of anything else.

She pushed away from her desk and then looked out her window to see the courier who picked up her labs drive up to the clinic. Perfect timing. No time to chicken out and remove her specimen. She snagged the insulated bag, zipped it up and hurried toward the entrance.

The driver met her at the door with a friendly smile. He collected the bag from Maren and then hurried back to his van with a wave. Her pulse raced and she had to quell the urge to yell for him to come back. She bit her lips and forced herself to remain still until the vehicle was out of sight.

With a sigh she turned back and walked inside the clinic to lock up for the night. Her patient load had been light today and her last patient had left the clinic an hour before, leaving Maren to finish up the labs and draw her own blood.

After turning off all the lights, she let herself out the front and locked the door. She walked slower to her cottage, the afternoon sun warm on her skin. She palmed her belly, wondering if even now there was a tiny life forming inside her. Then she castigated herself for dwelling on it so much.

If it turned out she wasn’t pregnant, would she be relieved or disappointed?

It wasn’t a question she had the answer to. There was a small part of her that welcomed the idea of a baby, no matter how ill prepared she was for having a child. And a much larger part of her that panicked at the mere thought.

But there was absolutely nothing she could do about it now except wait for the results of the blood test. And it did her no good to play the what-if game. It would only make her crazy.

It was warm in her cottage, so she opened the windows to allow the breeze in and circulate more air. She had no desire to cook and so she rummaged through her cabinets for something quick and easy.

She put a kettle of water to boil for her routine cup of tea after a day of work, selecting a tea bag and placing it in her favorite mug that one of the locals had gifted her with. It was handpainted, a beautiful array of colors, vivid, in russet earth tones. It soothed and comforted her, and she definitely needed calming today.

Deciding on a sandwich with locally made cheese and a homemade herb spread she’d picked up from a local street vendor, she sat at her tiny table and stared through the picture window, enjoying the breeze on her face.

She savored every sip of the tea and decided that she’d have another and maybe get in some reading as a reward for a shorter day. It wasn’t often she finished with her patients before nightfall. And even when she’d closed down and gone home, she was often visited at her cottage after hours by people in need of medical attention.

She preferred not to make house calls, because she liked to be certain what she was getting into, but she’d delivered two babies in their homes when labor had progressed too quickly for the women to make it to a hospital.

After finishing the first cup of tea, she set the kettle off the stove and turned it off, deciding to shower and change into more comfortable clothing before indulging in her second cup and a good book.

Twenty minutes later she returned to the kitchen, her still-damp hair combed out and hanging down her shoulders. She was pouring the boiling water into her mug when a knock sounded at her door.

She sighed because she knew she’d jinxed herself by thinking how nice it was to have had an early day. Nothing like inviting a house call by making plans for a quiet, relaxing evening.

Setting her cup aside, she went to her door and cracked it an inch. Dusk had fallen, but she had no problem making out the man standing in her doorway, his expression indecipherable. Her eyes widened as she continued to stare dumbly at him.

“Going to invite me in?” Steele asked gruffly.

For a moment she just stood there, unable to make her mouth work, and her body refused her brain’s commands to step back and let him in.

“Steele,” she said faintly.

“Glad you remember me,” he said dryly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” he said shortly. Then he looked pointedly at the door handle she still clutched with her hand.

She hastily stepped back, opening the door wider as she gestured for him to enter.

He strode in as if he belonged and then stood in the living room, turning to face her as she closed the door and turned her attention to him.

They stared in silence, him studying her every bit as much as she studied him. Her tongue was tied. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him. He was the very last person she would have expected to show up.

Then it dawned on her that the only time she saw him was when one of his team members needed medical attention.

“Is something wrong? Is someone hurt? Should I head to the clinic?”

Steele slowly shook his head. “I came alone.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

He dragged a hand through his hair and briefly looked away. His entire stance signaled he was ill at ease. He didn’t immediately answer and that puzzled her. He was blunt, straightforward. Never one to mince words. And yet he seemed to be having a hard time articulating his thoughts.

“I was supposed to get you out of my system. One night. Needed you out from underneath my skin,” he finally bit out.

Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah? And how’s that working out for you?”

“Not too damn well,” he muttered.

Then to her shock, he closed the distance between them and pulled her roughly into his arms. He angled his head and pressed his lips to hers, devouring her mouth in a hot, breathless, toe-curling kiss.

She sighed into his mouth and melted into him, her body going liquid. Desire pooled in her belly and she reacted instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss.

“Been thinking of nothing else since that night,” he murmured. “Had to come back. You’re still under my skin, Maren. Can’t get rid of you. I think about you. I dream about you. That night only made it worse.”

She arched one eyebrow as she stared up at him. “And you think another night will help?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that I’m going to die if I don’t have you again. Make love with me, Maren. Spend another night with me.”

Though technically it was a request, it didn’t come out as one at all. It was more of a command, and it was voiced in a way that suggested he didn’t need or want an actual answer.

She was an idiot for doing this. Especially in light of what she suspected. But how could she throw a damper on the entire thing by saying she might be pregnant, or that she even suspected she could be?

There was an urgency to his every movement. The way he kissed her. The way he voiced his “request.” The way he looked at her, those intense blue eyes boring into her and heating her from the inside out. She couldn’t tell him no any more than she could give up breathing. He wasn’t the only one who’d thought of little else since that night, and it gave her immense satisfaction that he was here, when he’d sworn they’d only have one night.

“Do you want me, Maren? Do you ache like I do? Have you thought of that night?”

“Oh yes,” she breathed. “I’ve thought of you every single night when I go to bed alone and wish you were there.”

“Thank fuck,” he muttered.

Then he yanked her back into his arms and covered her mouth hungrily, as though he were starving for her. His tongue, hot and urgent, slid into her mouth, between her lips, tasting her and teasing her tongue with his.

“Bedroom,” he said between kisses.

“Lead the way,” she whispered back.

He swept her into his arms—and oh man did she love it when he hauled her around like she weighed nothing—and carried her into her bedroom, just as he’d done that first night. This time he wasn’t as gentle. He went with her onto the bed, coming down on top of her as she landed with a soft bounce.

His body pressed hard and urgent onto hers, his mouth never leaving her lips. As he kissed, he pulled at her clothing, pulled at his, somehow managing to get them both mostly naked while still devouring every inch of her mouth.

He pulled away long enough to yank his shirt over his head and tug impatiently at hers. His eyes glittered with satisfaction when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the T-shirt she’d just changed into.