Rhys turned his head and spotted Kellan. “Aye,” he answered Denae. “I think my time here is done.”
“Done?” she asked and turned to see where he was looking.
As soon as her gaze locked with his, Kellan felt his blood heat. Her hair was still loose, beckoning him to touch it—to touch her.
Rhys cleared his throat into the silence. “Uh, Kellan, I told her I’d go see about finding her some clothes. She’s no’ comfortable walking around in…” Rhys pointed to the shorts and shirt on her body. “Well … that.”
Kellan didn’t understand why not. She hadn’t said a word yesterday or earlier about wanting something else to change into. As it was, he wanted out of his shirt, jeans, and boots.
He wanted to be in the clouds, floating upon the currents and looking at the world from high above. He wanted his hands in Denae’s hair, her body beneath him.
He wanted inside her.
Kellan looked away from her to Rhys. “That’s a good idea. I’ll go see about it.”
“Already on it,” Rhys said and hurried out of the room.
Kellan looked at the empty doorway long after Rhys walked out. There was no way he could begin to interrogate Denae until he had his body under control. That much was obviously—painfully—clear.
“Now it’s my turn to ask if I make you uncomfortable,” she said.
“Nay.” It was all he could get out. And he prayed she stayed away from him. He wasn’t sure how much restraint he could maintain if she came near him.
“Dreagan is a beautiful place. I’ve tasted the whisky as well. It’s no wonder y’all have done so well.”
He regarded her, comprehending that she was going somewhere with her talk. “But?”
“But … I get the feeling there is much more to this place. Take you, for example.”
“What about me?” He shouldn’t engage her in such a manner, but he was curious how she saw him.
She licked her lips, bringing his attention to their fullness, their plumpness that begged to be kissed. “You’re different. When I look in your eyes, it’s almost as if … as if I’m looking back in time.”
Kellan knew he couldn’t allow her to go on. He had to turn the tables on her, to get her to talk about anything but how she saw him. It was too dangerous for her—and for him.
He decided to repeat the questions already put to her. Perhaps he would learn something different, because there had to be more. He didn’t want her to be a woman in need of assistance. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could ignore her sweet curves.
Admitting that, even to himself, infuriated him. She was a human. He must remember what they had done to him and his bronze dragons.
“What did you and Matt really think you were going to find here? What did Matt believe would come out once he had you wounded and used as bait?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Denae wasn’t fooled. Kellan changed the subject because something she said hit a chord. She refused to look away from his celadon gaze as he challenged her with his words.
“I got the feeling Matt was expecting something to come out.” She closed her eyes and thought back to the cave. Denae had been intent on staying alive, but her training and her photographic memory let her catch every detail. “The way he said I was bait. It’s almost as if…”
Her eyes flew open as a thread of disquiet wound through her.
“As if what?” Kellan pushed.
“As if Matt was expecting an animal. He wanted me bloodied, hurt so that I couldn’t escape or move. The only reason for that would be if there was some kind of being and he wanted to get its attention.”
Kellan looked away, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched his teeth. “What was Matt’s plan when this ‘thing’ he was trying to see arrived?”
“I don’t know.”
“Guess,” he said tightly.
Kellan might be so damned gorgeous that she couldn’t think straight, but he was infuriating as well. She allowed herself to glare at him a second before she considered the cave and what Matt might have been waiting for, plus their gear and weapons. “I would have returned to the water. The air tanks had more than enough oxygen to make several trips back and forth.”
“Does MI5 no’ need more than just one agent’s eyewitness account?”
Denae nodded slowly and leaned against the wooden footboard of the bed. “They would’ve wanted definitive proof. Matt must have had some sort of device on him to take a picture or recording.”
“And you expect me to believe you had no idea what you came to Dreagan for?”
“I’m cooperating, but no, I don’t have any proof that would tell you I was the one who was betrayed. They wanted me dead. I was expendable, dispensable. The UK might not be my country, but I took an oath to protect it.”
“MI5, however, didna take an oath to protect you, did they?”
How she hated that he was right. “No. I could say the same of any intelligence agency in any country. I knew if I was ever caught during a mission that I was on my own. This was different. I was set up, my own people turning on me.”