ONE

ONE MONTH LATER

She was going to cave.

Piper could feel it coming. She could feel that bond of pleasure Jed had created four weeks before tightening between them, pulling them together.

She’d taken Eve’s suite on the first floor of Mackay’s Bed-and-Breakfast Inn after her sister had moved in with her lover, Brogan Campbell.

Brogan had been staying in the suite next to Eve’s for the two years he had been there doing whatever it was he was doing. She had a feeling he was a hell of a lot more than a building contractor or supervisor or whatever the hell he claimed to be. She was all but certain he was a covert agent and working directly with her mother’s lover, Timothy Cranston.

And she highly suspected both Jedediah Booker and the other contractor staying at the inn, Elijah Grant, were Brogan’s partners.

There had been strange things going on in Somerset—hell, in Pulaski County, period—for the past few years: thefts that didn’t make sense, strangers who knew far too much about the people and the mountains where Piper now made her home. And far too many “disappearances” of several of the criminal elements in the county.

It was damned freaky.

And she knew Jed was involved in it.

She watched them, she listened to the gossip and rumors that moved through the county, and she had a hell of an ability to tie together things that at first might not appear connected.

It was a talent she’d often heard Dawg had as well.

It didn’t matter what kind of talent she had. She could be as fully trained as any agent who had ever worked with her brother and he’d still treat her like a five-year-old.

And so would Jed.

Pulling the older-model Jeep into the driveway of the post office, she set the parking brake before turning off the ignition and moving from the vehicle.

Sliding the small orange notification card from her purse, she looped the bag’s strap over her shoulder and pushed open the glass door leading into the building.

“Hey there, Piper.”

“Piper, how’s it goin’ . . .”

“Hello, Piper, missed you last weekend. . . .”

“Hey, Piper, Dawg going to let you come out and play this weekend?”

She heard it every time she ran into the usual crowd of summer weekend partiers. Because Piper, normally the life of the party, had been absent or joined by her brother or cousins every time she tried to slip out to one of the lake parties. A Mackay always arrived within minutes of her showing up, and what was the point of staying if she was being guarded? She returned the greetings, answered where she had to, and waited patiently in line to sign for the certified letter she’d been notified was waiting for her.

The New York City address hadn’t really meant anything to her; neither had the name of the sender: S. Chaniss.

Accepting the envelope from the young clerk behind the counter, Piper thanked her quietly before making her way back to the Jeep.

Closing herself in and restarting the ignition, Piper flipped on the AC and quickly tore open the envelope.

She scanned the letter first; then, as disbelief set in and her heart began racing furiously, she read it more slowly.

Her hand began to tremble. Excitement began to build.

She’d been making her own clothing designs since she was a child, and for nearly as long she had been sewing those designs together. She’d learned early how to use a needle and thread, and she’d torn her fingertips to ribbons as a child to perfect each and every stitch.

Now . . . now someone had noticed them. Someone of such renown in the fashion world that she had never imagined he would show an interest in her work.

Eldon Vessante, one of the biggest names in the New York fashion scene, had, for several years, been bringing in hot new designers, up to three a year, and staging exclusive runway shows for them.

By mentoring new talent he’d made an even bigger name for himself, and each designer he’d mentored was still a hot topic among the fashion world. And their designs were still being worn by models, movie stars, and the rich and famous.

Piper had sent several of her designs to the Vessante panel more than a year ago.

No one knew she had submitted the required six designs to the Vessante team. She hadn’t even told her mother. Hell, she’d forgotten about it months ago when no response had been forthcoming.

His assistant had sent the letter—she quickly checked the date—two days ago?

Oh, my God—they had chosen her designs!

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to jump out of the Jeep and announce it to everyone on the street as they made their way into the post office and various businesses that lined the sidewalk.

She wanted to call her mother and Dawg. . . .

Whoa.

Bad idea.

Very, very bad idea.

She really wanted to call Jed, and that was an even worse idea, because there was no way, despite his promise, that he wouldn’t let Dawg in on where she was going and what she was doing.

She read the letter again.

The excitement was about to get the best of her.

This was her dream. It was that one-in-a-million shot to realize every dream she’d ever had of what she could accomplish with the talent she had.

And she couldn’t tell anyone.

She lifted her head, moving her gaze from the letter to stare through the Jeep windshield, her excitement suddenly overshadowed by a heavy sadness. If she dared to say anything to anyone, then she would end up with more bodyguards on that trip than the queen of England. And wouldn’t that make a hell of an impression?

If she thought for a moment that Dawg, Rowdy, or Natches would consider just one of them accompanying her, then it might have swayed her. She knew better, though. For the past summer, they seemed to be everywhere together. Piper had even gone so far as to ask them whether they were married to their wives or to one another.

She’d even questioned why. Why had her sister been kidnapped the summer before? Who had done it? Why had they done it? All she’d received in answer was a closed expression and change of topic. And the certainty that her brother and cousins, along with Timothy Cranston, were involved in something far more dangerous than they wanted their sisters to be aware of.

Carefully pushing the letter back into the large envelope it had arrived in, she turned it over and stared at the address once again.

S. Chaniss, the address read. New York City.

There was no way anyone at the post office could really place exactly whom the letter was from or what it contained. Hiding it and the contents from curious eyes wouldn’t be too hard.

Putting the Jeep in gear and pulling from the post office parking lot, she turned the vehicle toward home.

This sucked.

The rebellious resentment that had been brewing inside her for the past year flamed through her senses with a suddenness that made it nearly burst into full-fledged anger.

It simply wasn’t fair. She should have been able to shout this accomplishment far and wide. At the very least she should have been able to race to the boutique where she sold many of the unique clothing designs she created.

She couldn’t even do that.

Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she drove out of town and made the turn toward Mackay’s Bed-and-Breakfast Inn.

As the renovated farmhouse came into view, Piper couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that had it not been for her brother Dawg, then her mother would have died and she and her sisters would have been worse than homeless.

They’d been abandoned by Chandler Mackay long before the Department of Homeland Security had found the small house he’d purchased for her mother when he’d brought her from Guatemala. When they’d been thrown from that home, her mother, Mercedes, had been horribly ill with a lung infection the doctors had been unable to treat.

It was only after Timothy Cranston had brought them to Somerset and introduced them to Dawg that their lives had changed. Dawg had ensured that her mother’s medical care was paid for while Piper and her sisters had found security, and they had all found a family unlike any Piper could have imagined.

There was another side of that coin, though.

With the security, acceptance, and love the Mackays had given her and her family there was the heavy-handed overprotectiveness her brother and male cousins exhibited.

It was so heavy-handed that for the past year she and her sisters—except the eldest, whom Piper actually blamed their present state on—had no hope of actually living outside the stifling watchfulness they were suddenly surrounded with.

Slip out to a lake party and what happened? Before they could finish their first beer either Dawg, their cousins, or one of their cohorts—Sheriff Mayes, Chief of Police Alex Jansen, or some other tough-assed Mackay male friend—was there with an eagle eye.

Forget even considering the unmentioned search she had begun for a lover. She was fated to remain a virgin for the rest of her days, evidently.

At twenty-four, Piper considered herself far too old to have not taken a lover. And as much as she would have loved—loved—to have taken Jedediah Booker to her bed, the last thing she needed was one of her brother’s watchdogs keeping a leash on her.

Pulling into the inn’s parking lot, Piper tried to push back the regret and the hunger she couldn’t keep from building inside her body. The sensitive flesh between her thighs felt swollen, aching for a touch. Her clit actually throbbed, and she knew damned good and well that only a man was going to put out that particular fire.

God help her, she didn’t want a man as restrictive and just as protective as her brother and cousins. She wanted a lover, a friend, and a partner. She didn’t need a keeper.

It was Saturday night.

She had a week to make plans to slip from Somerset and make her way to New York. She was going to have to essentially escape. If that was possible. Because if Dawg had even a suspicion she was leaving town for any reason, then he would have one of his buddies and/or employees or agent-type acquaintances on her ass so fast it would leave road rash on her senses.

That, she didn’t need.

She knew the world she wanted to move within, and she knew for damned sure that neither her brother and cousins nor their overprotective friends would move well within it.

So, how to escape a town where the Mackays had eyes and ears everywhere?

Everywhere.

No doubt it wouldn’t be easy.

It would require a small amount of lying through her teeth.

Piper smiled.

Hell, she could do it.

She was, after all, a Mackay.