Despite Joe’s alpha-wolf posturing, Finn swore that the man wasn’t an assassin. But a hint of something else lurked beneath the surface. This guy truly was interested in Meara, Finn suspected.
Although he scoffed at himself. Why wouldn’t Joe be? She was attractive, intelligent, and even a pack leader’s sister. She was an unattached female, and if Joe was looking for a mate, she wouldn’t be a bad prospect for someone who was willing to be tied down. That bothered Finn more than he was willing to allow.
Finally finding her voice, Meara asked Finn, “What are you doing here?”
Her words had a whispered, breathy quality, but they weren’t dismissive. She chewed her bottom lip and appeared worried, maybe figuring the only reason he would be here was that something was wrong. He had considered that she might think he had another mission for Hunter, since she wouldn’t let go of the notion that Finn, not Hunter, arranged them. Under normal circumstances, Finn would never have come on to her like this—even in a pretend way. Not only that, but if Hunter had initially contacted him for another undercover operation, Finn would have known Hunter wasn’t here.
She had to realize the situation was really bad if he was putting on a show of being her lover. But she also had to know he wouldn’t say what the trouble was in front of Joe.
“He’s… Joe Matheson is renting the blue cottage,” she said, answering Finn’s question rather than Joe’s.
“You didn’t mention that last night…” Finn motioned to the disheveled bed. “…but then I must have distracted you.” He cast a purely wicked smile at her.
Her flustered expression quickly changed from startled to worried and finally to the way he always remembered her whenever he dropped by to see Hunter about another mission—annoyed—as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. His gaze lingered on the silk blouse she wore, and he swore her nipples were ripening into mouthwatering peaks right before his eyes.
She cleared her throat. “We need to talk.”
“Just what I had in mind. As soon as you tell Joe where his cabin is and he settles in there, we’ll have that little talk.” He strode to the other side of the bed and lifted his duffel bag as if he’d already moved in. Which he had, whether she liked it or not. Setting the bag on the bed, he unzipped the zipper and then glanced at the two of them. Meara was still staring at him in disbelief, while Joe’s expression indicated that he’d gotten to the party a little too late.
“The blue cabin is the closest to this one heading north, Joe,” Finn said to get the ball rolling, having already scoped out all of the cabins and memorized their names and locations, according to the listings in Meara’s notebook. All of them were empty, ready for occupancy. And he was past ready for Joe to move along.
Finn pulled out a fresh pair of boxer shorts, khaki shorts, a tank shirt, and a pair of flip-flops.
“Who is he?” Joe asked again, his voice rough with contempt, and yet Finn could have sworn he heard a ribbon of amusement in Joe’s tone, as if his actions were all a show.
That didn’t make sense. Or just maybe, the guy was so damned cocky that he figured Finn wasn’t any competition.
“An old friend of the family’s,” Meara begrudgingly replied. “Come on, Joe.” She sounded resigned, but Finn knew when she returned, she’d be anything but prepared to accept this arrangement.
Finn would deal with that the best he could. While Hunter was away, he felt it his responsibility to protect Hunter’s sister. Mostly because the reason for the attack on their teammate, Allan, had probably been Finn’s fault. Damn it to hell.
Their last mission had almost been a complete abortion. They had all suspected that someone had tampered with their explosive devices before they arrived on the island to rescue the hostages. Someone who had wanted the rescue to fail. Someone who had known their plan. But Finn was at fault for not checking the bag one last time before they hit the beach.
He listened while Meara tried to smooth things over in the hallway with who she probably hoped was a prospective mate. That curdled the remains of Finn’s hastily eaten lunch, a fast-food burger consumed earlier in the day.
“I’ll just show you to your cabin and—” she began as she walked Joe down the hall.
“No need,” Joe said, sounding somewhat aggravated as Meara trailed along behind him.
“I’ll get you the key. But your meal isn’t ready, and well, don’t mind him,” she said, motioning back to the bedroom, her tone and actions dismissive.
Finn smiled and wiped off some droplets of water clinging to his chest. If Joe was here on vacation like he said he was, the guy had to realize that Meara wasn’t going to dismiss Finn as insignificant.
Joe stalked down the hall toward the living area. “Sorry, Meara. I told you I was here on vacation. It looks like your friend has already staked a claim to the territory.” His inference being that she was part of the territory.
She gave an audible snort at that. Finn smiled at her spunk.
Not to be dissuaded, Joe continued, “So I’ll mind my own business and enjoy whatever else the area has to offer in the line of recreation in the meantime.”
Meara sounded peeved when she said, “He’s not staying. Here’s the key to your cabin. If you need anything else, just let me know. There’s just been some misunderstanding about the sleeping arrangements around here. That’s all. We weren’t together last night. And he’s leaving as soon as I have a word with him.”
Joe didn’t say anything in response, and Finn wondered if the guy was reconsidering making a play for Meara. Finn would have to put a stop to that pronto. The man was too cool, too confident, too… Finn couldn’t put his finger on it exactly. But he didn’t entirely trust Joe.
The back door shut and for a moment silence ensued. Was Meara looking at the door where she’d lost her prey? Or considering the bedroom and what she’d say to Finn as soon as she got angry enough?
Finn had never known Meara to stomp. She’d always moved gracefully, sensually, more like a feline than a canine, even when she was irritated whenever Finn had showed up in Hunter’s life after they’d left the Navy. This time she stomped down the hall toward her bedroom. He skipped getting dressed, climbed onto the bed, her bed, propped her pillows behind his head, and lay there, towel around his waist, legs stretched out, waiting for the explosion.
He didn’t have to wait long. She stormed into the bedroom and saw him on her bed, totally relaxed and still not dressed, which again rendered her speechless. But she quickly overcame her surprise.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to see Hunter—”
“And you know he’s not here.” She crossed her arms underneath her breasts, which were rising and falling in rapid succession as she took steadying breaths. “If this is more private consulting work, Hunter isn’t here to go on the job. He’s mated now.” She waved at the door. “You can leave now that you know he’s not here. And for your information, he’s not available to go with you on jobs any longer.” Then she paused and narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not staying here and waiting for him to return while I’m running the resort either, if you had that notion in mind.”
Wondering how Hunter would take it if he knew his sister was deciding what he would and would not do now that he was mated, Finn folded his arms across his bare chest.
Her gaze shifted to his towel. It wasn’t big as bath towels went, and his legs were spread in a relaxed, invitational way. Not that he was inviting her in any way, but he hadn’t crossed his legs at the ankles in a manner that suggested he was closed off to her. He swore that if she kept staring at the towel, it was going to begin to rise to the occasion. And he damn well would want to invite her for a closer engagement like the ones he’d only imagined having with her in their former encounters, which had been brief and heated—and not in a sexual way. Although he had to admit, any kind of interaction with her made him think of her in a sexual way.