The Mackades Collection (Books 1-4). Nora Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ helplessly, as she pulled at him. “Please. Don’t make me any more ashamed than I already am.”

      “The bastard’s going to pay this time.” He bit the words out, started to set her aside and looked down. The tears did what fists and threats could never have done. They stopped him cold. “Cassie.” Undone, he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against his chest. “Don’t cry, baby. Come on now, it’s going to be all right.”

      From the doorway of the office, Regan watched him. How could there be such tenderness, she wondered, side by side with such savagery? He was holding Cassie as though she were a child, his head close to hers as he murmured to her.

      Regan’s own throat burned, and her own cheeks were wet when he lifted his head and looked at her.

      Yes, the violence was still there, alive and restless in his eyes. Vital and fierce enough to steal her breath from her throat and make her stomach muscles quiver. She swallowed hard before she spoke.

      “Bring her back in here, Rafe. Please.”

      Every nerve inside him was tensed for battle. He craved the hunt, the fight, the blood. But the woman in his arms was trembling. And the one who watched him with shocked, frightened eyes was quietly pleading.

      “Come on, baby.” As if she were a fretful child, Rafe tucked Cassie under his arm. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t apologize to me.” It took every ounce of control to lead her back into the office, to keep his voice easy on the words. “Don’t apologize to anyone.”

      “She’s going to Devin.” Because her hands were shaking, Regan busied them with the tea and cups. “She’s going to file charges. That’s the right way to handle it.”

      “That’s one way.” He preferred his own, but he eased Cassie into a chair, brushed her hair way from her damp face. “Have you got a place to stay?”

      Cassie nodded, took the tissues Regan handed her. “We’re going to stay with Regan for a little while. Just until…”

      “The kids okay?”

      She nodded again. “I’m going to get them as soon as I see Devin.”

      “You tell me what you need, and I’ll go by the house and pick it up for you.”

      “I…I don’t know. I didn’t take anything.”

      “You tell me later. Why don’t I walk you down to the sheriff’s office?”

      She shuddered out a breath, mopped her face. “No, I need to do it by myself. I should go now.”

      “Here.” Regan pulled open a drawer in her desk. “Here’s a key to the door upstairs. You and the kids settle in.” She put the key in Cassie’s hand, closed her fingers over it. “And lock it, Cassie.”

      “I will. I’ll go now.” It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, just standing, walking to the door. “I always thought it would get better,” she said, almost to herself. “I always hoped it would.” She left, with her head bowed and her shoulders hunched.

      “Do you know where he is?” Rafe murmured.

      “No, I don’t.”

      “Well, I’ll find him.” As he reached for his coat, Regan put her hand over his. His eyes lifted slowly to hers and burned. “Don’t get in my way.”

      Instinct had her laying her other hand on his cheek, her mouth on his. The kiss was soft, soothing them both.

      “What was that for?”

      “A couple of things.” She took a deep breath, then put both hands on his shoulders. “For wanting to kick the bastard’s face in.” She kissed him again. “For not doing it because Cassie asked you.” And again. “And last, for showing her that most men, real men, are kind.”

      “Damn.” Defeated, he laid his brow on hers. “That’s a hell of a way to keep me from killing him.”

      “Part of me would like you to. I’m not proud of it.” As the anger stirred again, she turned back to the hot plate. “Part of me would like to watch while you beat him senseless. Even worse, I’d like a shot at him myself.”

      Rafe stepped over, uncurled the hand she’d balled into a fist. Thoughtfully, he lifted it, pressed his lips to the palm. “Well, well… And I figured you for a cream puff.”

      “I said I’m not proud of it.” But she smiled a little. “It’s not what she needs now. Violence is just what she needs to get away from. Even if it’s justified.”

      “I’ve known her since she was a kid.” Rafe glanced down at the tea Regan poured him, shook his head at it. It smelled like a meadow at springtime, and would undoubtedly taste the same.

      “She was always little, pretty and shy. All this sweetness.” At Regan’s curious look, he shook his head again. “No. I never made any moves in that direction. Sweet’s never been my type.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Don’t mention it.” He stroked a hand over her hair, let his fingers drift into it, through it. “You’re taking on a lot, letting her and the kids stay with you. I can take them out to the farm. We’ve got plenty of room.”

      “She needs a woman, Rafe, not a bunch of men—however well-intentioned. Devin will find him, won’t he? And take care of it?”

      “You can count on it.”

      Satisfied, she picked up her own tea. “Then I will, and so should you.” Now that the step had been taken, she eyed him over her cup. “You must have come by for a reason.”

      “I wanted to look at you for a while.” Her bland gaze had his lips curving. “And I figured to go over some of the wall treatments—and the parlor furniture. I want to complete that one room, give me a feel for the rest.”

      “That’s a nice idea. I—” She broke off at the sound of movement and voices from the shop. “I’ve got customers. Everything’s here—the paint samples and fabrics, itemized lists of furnishings.”

      “I picked up some samples of my own.”

      “Oh, well, then…” She crossed to the desk, booted up her computer. “I have a room-by-room rundown here. Why don’t you go over it? Several of the pieces I’ve suggested are here. You can take a look at them when you’ve finished here.”

      “All right.”

      Thirty minutes later, flush with three sales, Regan stepped back into the office. He looked so big, she thought, so…male, sitting at her lovely little Chippendale desk. She could smell him—wood dust, soot, oil.

      His boots were scarred, his shirt was ripped at the shoulder. There were traces of plaster or drywall dust in his hair.

      She thought he was the most magnificent animal she had ever seen. And she wanted him with a kind of primal, mindless lust.

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