Betrayed by Shadows Read online

  “It might be worth it to watch Boyd stroll around smelling like a ladies’ lingerie store.”

  She locked stares with Giles, unable to provoke the response she desired. “I think Boyd is manly enough to overcome it.”

  With a hoot of laughter, Boyd got up from the table to slap Giles on the shoulder. “Think I’d best be leaving you and Honey Bear to discuss that betwixt you.” He squeezed Giles about the head fondly. “And if you show up smelling a little less than manly to Mama’s table tonight, I promise not to laugh.”

  Giles went very still, warning, “I won’t be there.”

  “Shore you will.” He winked at Brigit. “The little lady will convince you. Thanks for the coffee.”

  The playful energy left the room with Boyd. Brigit assumed his seat to flutter blameless eyes at the stoic male across from her. When he didn’t speak, she broke the silence.

  “The two of you share a mother? I thought you were cousins.”

  “It’s that father/uncle thing you mentioned earlier,” he drawled.

  “So he’s a Robichaux?”

  “He’s a St. Clair. His father’s my stepfather. So I guess we don’t qualify as inbred swamp folk in the true sense of the phrase.”

  Brigit frowned, working to puzzle it out. “Your mothers were sisters, and both your fathers married your mother?”

  “Not at the same time. We’re the conservative branch of the family. Boyd’s mama died giving birth to his sister, Louella Mae, so mine stepped up to help raise them along with me and my sister, Corene. After my daddy died, my mama married Boyd’s daddy. Cousins and brothers.”

  “And I thought my family had an interesting tree. So why the split in yours? You and Boyd seem friendly enough.”

  He shifted the topic skillfully by saying, “You and Boyd seemed friendly enough for the both of us. Is there any man you’ve ever met that you wouldn’t have sex with if there was something you wanted from him?”

  Though his tone was mildly curious and inoffensive, the insult took Brigit like a slap. “No,” she purred with a dangerous narrowing of her eyes. “What are you willing to do for me if I promise to be gentle and squeeze from the bottom?”

  His sudden laugh was a bigger affront than his question. “Ha! Considering your sharp teeth and that heave over the side of the boat afterward, not a thing.” He pushed up from the table. “Now, excuse me while I find some manly scented soap and take my shower . . . no assistance required.”

  Brigit glared after him, wanting to be angry but reluctantly amused by the challenge he presented. When she heard the showerhead sputtering, she was drawn to the rear window to observe him under the spray, watching the tempting bunch of biceps as he shampooed his short-cropped hair.

  He wasn’t a Shifter. He didn’t have the strength or power of those males, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with the way he was made. She followed the swell of massive shoulders down broad back to trim waist, letting her gaze linger over the curve of his muscular butt. She did like a man with an ass she could grab on to. She completed the detailing of his long legs and shook her head over her strange giddiness.

  Probably not a good idea to ask for any favors from Giles St. Clair. The payment could end up costing her more than she was prepared to give.

  Instead of coming back inside, Giles wasted his shower by working up a vigorous sweat chopping wood for their stove. Brigit didn’t miss his company, because the view of those smooth, fierce movements provided salacious entertainment value. She hoped it wasn’t her neck he was envisioning on that block at the apex of each swing. She guessed it had more to do with his troubled family dynamics. What could have estranged him from what sounded like a loving, close-knit clan? Some perceived wrong on one side or the other?

  Looking at the photo that she’d never returned to him, Brigit wondered if it had something to do with the mysterious Maggie. She glared at the fresh, attractive features, a growl rising in her throat. Giles had brought his Maggie to this place, had probably shared that shower with her, as well as the acquaintance of his family. Who was she? Girlfriend, ex-wife, massage therapist?

  She was about to crumple the photo when an unexpected compassion overcame spite.

  This was obviously someone—who, unfortunately, was not a sister—who meant enough to him for him to still carry her likeness with him. Someone who’d shared his confidences and his bed and perhaps hoped to share his future. Brigit had someone like that in her own not so distant past. Those memories, she was ashamed to say, were fading all too fast for her to believe she’d truly been in love with the handsome, arrogant, and fatally impulsive Daniel Guedry. But perhaps he’d been the closest she’d ever come to it.

  She carefully placed the photo on the table and went out to sit on the front steps, where she hoped to clear her mind of distractions and map out her next move.

  She needed to reunite Giles with his family. That was where her opportunities would come from. Perhaps to escape, perhaps to gain support.

  Brigit heard him come out onto the porch sometime later. He smelled enticingly of healthy exertion and the out-of-doors, an arousing masculine complement. She spoke to him without turning.

  “Life’s too short and uncertain not to make the most of the time you have. You shouldn’t spend it angry with those you love.”

  She could feel his surprise in the lengthy silence. When he answered, his voice was low and weighed with compressed emotion.

  “I’m not angry with them. I’ve missed them every day we’ve been apart.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve done something so awful that they’d shun you for ten years.”

  A pause, then a flatly spoken “You don’t know anything about it.”

  So the break was something he’d done.

  Brigit twisted to look up at him, allowing her expression to reflect her concern. “Then make up for it now, before you lose the chance.”

  She deserved the cool suspicion she saw in the lowering of his brows and sought to alleviate it with honesty. “Even though we sometimes—most of the time—drive each other crazy, I love my brother, and it breaks my heart to be away from him. My cousin Kendra is like a sister to me, and knowing that she’s in trouble and I can’t help her eats at me every waking minute. I would do anything to have my parents back. Anything. Nothing’s in your way but pride, and I’d think less of you if you didn’t do whatever you could to make amends.”

  “I didn’t think you could think any less of me.” He muttered the words cynically, but Brigit could tell he was considering what she’d said.

  “This isn’t about me and what I think. It’s about you and what you’re going to regret for the rest of your life.”

  Giles moved to stand beside her on the steps, reaching for a cigarette to defuse his tension. He’d only managed to place it between his lips when Brigit stood and plucked it from his fingers, flicking it out into the marshy yard.

  “Hey,” he growled. “That was my last one.”

  She stared straight up at him, not even a blink at his snap of temper. “I didn’t think you were a coward,” she challenged with a tip of her chin that made him want to swoop down to seize that pouty mouth with his own. And because he couldn’t, he looked out at the serene surface covering the deadly nature of the swamp surrounding them.

  “This isn’t just about me. It’s about you. I can’t leave you here alone.”

  “I like parties. I’m a people person.”

  “Yeah.” He gave a snort. “I’ve noticed.”

  She bristled. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I wouldn’t want to inflict you on them.”

  He felt her flinch at the harshness of his claim, but when he glanced down, she was facing away from him. Her tone was stretched taut as a guy-wire. “Are you afraid I’d embarrass you?”

  Giles struggled for a way to explain his reluctance without making the insult worse. “These are simple, direct people. You have a way of taking a very superior high road that would make them feel
like you’re looking down on them. And I won’t have that. I shouldn’t have let you get away with it at Sammy’s. They don’t deserve your contempt, and I won’t allow you to make them feel insignificant.”

  She was motionless for a long moment, then she brought her impassive gaze up to meet his. “What if I promise to behave myself?”

  Very carefully, he told her, “I don’t know that I could risk believing you.”

  She blinked quickly before he could be certain he saw genuine moisture gathering in those huge dark eyes, but that could have been another trick to gain his sympathy.

  “Fine,” she bit out. “Tie me up on the porch like a dog until you get back. It won’t be the first time. I won’t chew through the restraints. Where the hell would I run to?”

  He didn’t tell her he wasn’t worried about her running away. He was worried about someone finding her alone while he was gone. Sure, he trusted Sammy and Melva, but he also knew that if someone were determined to force out a secret, there were ways to do it. He’d seen it done. He’d done it himself. She was his responsibility, and he couldn’t do less than his all to protect her from whatever demons were after her.

  “We won’t stay long.”

  His announcement was met with a tremulous smile and more of that rapid blinking.

  “And you will put on underwear. This is my family’s home, not a singles bar.”

  Her jaw tightened with the flash of fire that so aggravated and beguiled him. “I will be every inch the proper fiancée.”

  So why wasn’t he relieved?

  “Who tied you up like a dog?” Just a hint of menace rumbled beneath his question, enough to make her smile slightly.

  “No one. I just made that up.”

  So why didn’t he believe her?

  In the end, Giles was grateful for the distraction she created. He probably couldn’t have forced himself to make the trip otherwise. Having her in the pirogue, teasing his senses in her impossibly sexy dress and with her lusciously scented body, was a pleasant buffer to the potential confrontation to come.

  He’d stayed away for ten years, but not because he’d wanted to. It was because he wasn’t sure he’d ever be welcomed home again.

  He’d had infrequent long-distant contact with Boyd to make sure everyone was all right. Hearing secondhand news of how his sisters had grown was almost harder than knowing nothing at all. He’d been able to slip them money through his cousin, insisting they never know it was from him, but that didn’t release him from the torment of not being there to provide for them.

  Nothing could absolve him from that failure.

  Brigit proved a surprisingly pleasant companion, laughing frequently as she coaxed him to tell stories about him and Boyd growing up. There was plenty to tell, since Boyd had made it his mission to raise hell practically since exiting the womb, and his little sister Lou seemed determined to follow in his footsteps. Giles and Corene had been the serious ones, the dependable ones, though that hadn’t kept them from getting sucked into the charismatic pair’s exploits. Or from bailing them out. Perhaps that was why he found it so difficult to take his red-haired obligation to task for her recklessness. Her fearless spirit, disregard for consequence, and ability to cast herself as victim rather than perpetrator all reminded him of those two he loved so dearly.

  But he’d be damned if he let her know it.

  They took a turn in the river, and his heart rolled over at the sight of the Point, so called because of its prominent position spearheading out into water traffic. Clovis Robichaux had parlayed that strategic spot into a booming tour and rental business, taking visitors and professional fishermen out for the day at a hefty price. Clovis had also been one of the best marine mechanics in the area and often spent the wee hours of the night tinkering in the big pole barn with Giles at his side, as soon as he was tall enough to reach into a manifold. In Giles’s eyes, Clovis Robichaux not only earned a good living off the water, he walked on it, too.

  But even before the Spill, even before Katrina, violence had stripped away his family’s prosperity and robbed Giles of the man he adored.

  He poled up to the familiar dock off of which he’d learned to swim and fish and handle anything with an engine. Sentiment rose so quick and strong into his throat that he could barely breathe around it.

  Home.

  He’d never thought to see it again.

  He’d climbed up onto those sturdy planks and was tying off the boat when a sudden banshee screech brought him up from his crouch. Just in time to catch the bundle of streaming black hair and lean arms and legs that tangled about him.

  “Gilly! I can’t believe it’s you! I can’t believe you’re really here!”

  “Here, now, let me get a look at you. Good God, Lou, you’re almost all grown up!”

  The pretty little thing, who had all her older brother’s wild and delightful energy, settled back on bare feet to pout, “Almost? I’m nearly eighteen!”

  “What? When did that happen?”

  She slapped his chest. “While you weren’t looking.” That was when she saw Brigit in the boat and froze like a startled rabbit.

  Remembering Brigit’s presence, Giles put down both hands and lifted her up to stand beside him. She put one of her hands out to the saucer-eyed girl.

  “You must be Louella Mae. Giles has told me so much about you.”

  Suddenly shy, the girl took Brigit’s hand for a firm press. “Well, he ain’t told us nothing about you. Or anything else.”

  “My name’s Brigit. What lovely hair you have.”

  To have a jaw-droppingly fashionable female pay her such a compliment left the teen without words. Taking advantage of her stupor, Giles scooped one arm about her and eased the other across Brigit’s shoulders, steering them both down the dock to the gravel parking lot. The unused pole barn and small tackle shop stood off to the right; the home he’d been born in was on the left. He hesitated before picking a direction. “Who all’s here, Lou?”

  “Daddy and Cori should be along anytime. Boyd’s filling an order in the shop.”

  “And Mama?”

  The girl’s tone hushed as she told him, “She’s up at the house.”

  Brigit put her hand over the one Giles had capping her shoulder and gave a brief press. “Let’s go say hello.”

  The house was a well-kept two-story that had grown along with the family, sprouting additions and an inviting screened-in front porch. Tidy flower beds edged the walk. Around the side was a large canopied two-person glider, and beyond it, a huge garden. In Brigit’s eyes, it was everything that one imagined in those Hallmark holiday specials: warm, welcoming, and steeped in loving history. But Giles’s steps began to lag, slowing them until she and Lou were practically pulling him along.

  They’d reached the first of the cement steps leading up to the porch when the inside front door opened and a tall, handsome woman appeared, leaning heavily on a cane.

  Giles’s breath caught noisily. After a jerky swallow, he managed a husky “Hello, Mama.”

  In a voice that boomed like the wrath of God, Irene Robichaux St. Clair commanded, “Get off this property.”

  ten

  “Mama,” Lou cried, aghast. “It’s Giles. Don’t you recognize him?”

  The steely voice never quavered. “I know who he is. And I know what he is. And he isn’t welcome here. I thought I made that very clear the last time we spoke.”

  “You did,” Giles agreed quietly.

  “Then take your fancy whore, get back in your boat, and go.”

  When he felt Brigit move forward, Giles made a grab for her arm, but she evaded it to step up to the door and smile through the screen at the ferocious older woman.

  “Mrs. St. Clair, might I trouble you for a glass of water before we start the trip back?”

  No Southern female would risk being thought of as inhospitable. The stern features relaxed ever so slightly. “Come in, then. Just you.”

  Giles caught Brigit’s elbow, tugging he
r back so he could whisper, “Remember your promise,” before letting her go.

  The inside of the St. Clair home was as neat and welcoming as its exterior. Brigit could imagine the boisterous blended family filling its rooms. Giles’s mother moved slowly down the hall, her limp pronounced, until they reached a huge country kitchen smelling of dried herbs and cinnamon.

  “How about some tea?” the older woman asked. “It’s fresh-brewed.”

  “That would be very nice, thank you.”

  A large pitcher was brought out of the refrigerator and a glass passed to her. Brigit took a sip, fighting not to wince as the sugary liquid threatened her tooth enamel. She managed to drink it all down, shaking her head when asked if she wanted more. “No, thank you. What I would like is a minute of your time.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to tell me about my son. I think I know him a little better than you do.”

  “But you don’t know me,” Brigit began, her tone polite but her gaze as sharply stropped as the other woman’s. “I’m not a whore, and your son isn’t someone who associates with them. What I am is someone like your husband and his son and, I suspect, his daughter.”

  She had the woman’s complete attention.

  “Louella’s a lovely girl. When I met her, I didn’t get any sense of her being aware of what she is. I imagine that would come as quite a shock to her, finding out before she’s properly prepared.”

  “And you’d tell her? Are you threatening me?” An icy blue-gray stare stabbed through Brigit like a snake that had slithered into the kitchen. “What kind of woman are you?”

  “The kind that repays both a kindness and a cruelty.”

  “And you think it’s cruel of me not to welcome my son home? Did he think I would?”

  “No. In fact, he was sure he’d get the reception he did, but he came anyway. Because he’s no coward.”

  Shrewd eyes narrowed. “Are you in love with him?”