And a good time for the adult content warning. . . .
Ghosts That Haunt—36
Casey wasn't sure what time it was when he woke, but based on the quality of the watery light coming though the curtains, it had to be midmorning at the earliest, noon at the latest. Riah was mostly on top of him, and Victoria was quiet. He eased Riah off him, looked over at where his daughter slept, and decided the two them deserved to sleep longer. Casey, though, had things to do.
He pulled on his boxers and jeans, scooped up his shirt, and let himself quietly out of the bedroom. He walked the length of the hallway to cross the open gallery to the master suite. Emma leaving it stopped him.
Curious, he waited for the girl. "Are Mariah and Victoria alright?"
"Sleeping," he told her.
She nodded, and then she raised her brows and gave him an impudent grin and a sweep of the eyes. "I definitely get why Mariah apparently likes to jump you." Then she walked around him and returned to her own room.
Casey shook his head and entered the room he and Riah had abandoned. Somewhere between the door and the bathroom, he figured out Riah told her sister a lot more about their sex life than she probably ought to.
When he had showered, shaved, and dressed, he checked on his wife and daughter, both of whom were still asleep, before he went downstairs. V. H. and the man in charge of Riah's security teams were at the kitchen table.
V. H. tilted his head toward the coffeepot, and Casey helped himself before joining them at the table.
"Riah wants to go home," he said, meeting his father-in-law's eyes.
"I figured she would," her father sighed. "Obviously, though, you didn't look outside."
Casey frowned. The security chief—Curtiss, he thought—said, "No one's going anywhere until the snow stops and the roads are cleared."
"Did you at least get that bastard and his men out of here?" Casey asked.
The two men nodded. "They're cooling their heels in St. John's," V. H. told him.
It would have to do, Casey decided, though he would have preferred they were in the wine cellar below them, so he could take a few cracks at the cowboy. His second choice would be a maximum-security facility far away. Or dead. He'd be happy with dead.
Of course dead only meant Finley alone wouldn't be a problem. That didn't mean anyone with whom the bastard had worked wouldn't remain a threat. Casey considered asking to have a bit of time alone with Finley, get some useful answers out of the man. If the other man chose to insist it be personally painful, Casey wouldn't mind to oblige.
He met V. H.'s eyes. "She's going to insist."
"She can insist all she wants," her father said, "but until we can safely get out, we're all staying put."
Casey looked at Curtiss. "Any idea how soon that might be?"
The other man shrugged. "Snow's supposed to stop early tomorrow. We'll have to see about the rest."
In truth, Casey knew part of Riah's desire to leave was down to fear, and in part he knew it was an attempt to put the night's events out of sight, out of mind. It might do her some good to stay a while now the threat was removed, and with MacKenzie around, maybe the other man could help settle her—preferably without sedatives. He shot another look at the security chief, and the man obvious read expressions well since he excused himself. When he was alone with V. H., Casey told him, "She says she wants to sell the house."
The other man's brows shot up. "She loves this place, has always refused to sell it in the past."
Casey cocked his head
Color stained the other man's face. "I've tried for years to get her to sell it," V. H. admitted. "She's always felt safe here, though, and despite the fact she's spent less and less time in Newfoundland, I think she's always felt it was home."
That, he knew, was probably because it was where she had lived after she had been taken as a child. He suspected it had been the only really stable home she'd had during her childhood, even if it had been her grandparents rather than her parents who had lived there with her. Now, though, that security had been breached, and she no longer felt safe.
Once more he thought about the fact that there was really very little in the house that reflected Riah or her ownership, and he wondered if what her father said was really true, if she truly saw this as home. Her apartment in Ottawa, by contrast, had clearly shown Riah's mark. Then again, if she was rarely here, there was no need to tempt thieves by leaving valuable items in an out-of-the-way house with no permanent resident. On the other hand, there was a small fortune in wine downstairs that might have had its attractions for young vandals—or serious collectors. He lifted his cup. "I told her not to make any rash decisions."
"About what?" Ariel asked as she entered the kitchen.
Casey sought a suitable deflection, but V. H. raised his brows and then turned to look at his former partner. "Mariah told Casey last night she wants to sell this house."
Ariel crossed her arms and leaned her hips back against the counter near the coffeepot. "Mariah loves it here." Her eyes narrowed on Casey. "What did you say to her?"
Of course, he thought. She would lay the blame for her daughter's decision on him. He tried a conciliatory tone. "Not a thing, Ariel. She was upset, and her response was to say she wanted to sell this place. I'm sure when the shock of last night wears off, she'll change her mind."
The woman dropped her arms and stepped closer to him, though Casey noticed she stayed safely out of reach. He sat up straighter and tensed. "I did not appreciate how you spoke to me last night," she told him in a low, angry voice.
"I didn't appreciate the fact that you made what was already an unbearable situation for my wife worse." That came out through clenched teeth, and Casey had to consciously unfist his hand.
"This is all your fault," she shot back, and then ignored V. H. hissing her name. "That man would never have come after my daughter if it weren't for you."
Casey unfolded himself to stand and lean toward her as his hand curled tightly closed again. "That man first went after your daughter before I even met her," he bit out. "That man went after her because you insisted on doing what you'd been warned not to when she was five."
Ariel hissed in a sharp breath, and if she'd looked even remotely sorry or hurt, Casey might have backed down, might have considered letting it go, but she simply went incandescently angry and spat, "How dare you?"
"There's a lot I dare," he assured her. "I'm not afraid of you, and I can do you far more harm than you can do me, Ariel, so check any threats you might consider making. My wife has spent most of her life at risk because you let some moron pin a target on her that can't be removed. My daughter now wears the same target simply because you chose to be bullheaded and do what you wanted instead of what you'd been told was best for Mariah, so don't you dare try and pin what happened last night on me!"
She paled, and she shook with the anger that snapped in those frigid blue eyes of hers. "I've always done what's best for my daughter!"
"No," he ground out, "you haven't."
Before Ariel could retort, Riah's voice ordered, "Stop it!" Casey's eyes swung to where his wife stood in the doorway. Her voice shook when she added, "Just stop it."
He regretted Riah had walked in on that, regretted she'd heard that argument since she looked as though she might be ill. On the other hand, a confrontation with Ariel had been inevitable, though he hadn't been entirely sure when it would come or what it would be about. He could have ignored her, could have done as he sometimes did and seethed silently, but for whatever reason, this time he hadn't been able to do so. He was not apologizing, though. He hadn't said a thing that wasn't true, and he refused to say he regretted telling Ariel a few hard truths.
Then again, they were all stuck in this house, and an armed camp wasn't going to help Riah.
She had wrapped her robe tightly around her, held it closed as though she were outside in the freezing cold. Casey started to go to her, but V. H. caught his arm and stopped him. Reminded of the man's presence, he wondered why his father-in-law hadn't interceded in the argument. To his surprise, Ariel apologized—to her daughter, at least.
"I'm sorry," she told Riah tightly, and her voice softened when she added, "you know I get carried away, Mariah, and that's all this was."
Her daughter looked unconvinced. "Mum, I love you," Riah said quietly, "but if you can't find a way to get along with my husband, you aren't welcome."
"Casey—" Ariel started, but Riah cut her right off.
"Is my husband," she told her mother firmly. Casey admired the steel with which she added, "Don't make me choose, Mum, because you won't like the choice I make."
Ariel wasn't finished though. "He—"
His wife wasn't having any of it, though. "I repeat, Mum, you won't like my decision."
"Riah," Casey said softly. She looked at him, and he saw that despite the fact she stood up to her mother, she wasn't quite as strong as she appeared. He nearly apologized, too, when he saw the haunted look in her eyes.
"You, too, John. Since we're all stuck here for a while longer, learn to get along, or stay the hell away from each other." She dropped her arms and walked closer to him. "The past is past," she said, and looked at her mother before she looked back at him. "Both of you need to let it go."
Until she stepped forward, he hadn't noticed Emma. The younger girl held Victoria, and when she handed his daughter to him, she said, "Right. Now that the yelling is over, breakfast or lunch?"
Casey snorted. This was the Emma he liked, practical and skilled at deflecting attention to safer shores. They settled on breakfast, and Riah and Emma prepared it while Ariel took a seat as far away as she could get from the chair Casey occupied. Victoria squirmed now and again, made noises while her grandfather kept up a conversation that ranged from the weather to Emma's first quarter of college to US-Canadian relations.
As he watched his wife move about the kitchen, Casey gave some thought to more personal US-Canadian relations. He heard an exasperated sigh from Ariel and shot a look her way. He cheered at the realization she knew what he had been thinking as he stared at Riah.
So he was petty, took pleasure in Ariel's displeasure, but he would do as Riah asked. If he couldn't be civil to her mother, he'd stay away from her. He wouldn't incite, but he wasn't going to just roll over and take it if Ariel failed to observe the same rules. He'd simply wait until Riah was out of earshot if that happened.
Casey continued to watch his wife, tried to judge her mental state as she focused on cooking and occasionally responded to her father or Emma. She was tense, looked tired, which was understandable, all things considered. Casey decided he would see to it that his wife caught up on her rest by personally supervising a nap after they ate. If Victoria wasn't willing to cooperate, he felt certain Emma would be willing to distract her for them.
They were joined by MacKenzie as Riah and Emma served French toast, eggs, and bacon, and the meal passed pleasantly. Ariel shooed Riah out, told her daughter she'd see to cleaning up, and Casey scooped Victoria up from her bassinette and followed his wife upstairs. He left her in the room where they had finished the night and returned to the master suite for the clothes she requested. While he found what she asked for, he decided that if she wanted to spend another night in her old room, he'd probably need to move Victoria's crib.
Riah used the bathroom across the hall while Casey stretched out with Victoria on the bed. He watched her as she lay on her back and moved arms and legs as though she were trying to catch some invisible, elusive prey. She seemed happy, he thought, watching her alert eyes ricochet here and there. The noises she made varied from gurgles to something that sounded surprisingly like a chuckle. "What's so funny?" he asked softly, and her head turned toward him slightly.
For a split second, he felt like an idiot talking to an infant who couldn't talk back to him, but he decided what the hell. It wasn't as if there was anyone nearby to hear him.
When he said nothing further, though, Victoria went back to what she had been doing, and he wondered what she thought—if anything. He wondered if she had any idea the danger she'd been in the night before, wondered if she retained any of what had happened or if after sleeping her brain had reset. He had to admit he hoped she had no idea what had happened, but then he wondered if humans had to learn to be afraid or if it was instinctual. He thought back to his own childhood, but he couldn't remember a time when he hadn't known what he needed to fear and what he didn't.
Riah returned, dressed this time, and for a moment, he wished she had come back in her robe—if not just a towel. She'd braided her still-damp hair, and she dropped her gown and robe on the end of the dresser before she climbed on the side of the bed opposite him. She caught one of Victoria's hands, and he watched her smile at their daughter.
He reached over, slid a hand on her hip and met her eyes when she looked up at him. "We could just hide out here," he offered.
"That's one way to avoid any more arguments," she said drily.
"About that." He waited until she met his eyes again. "Sorry."
She shook her head. "Since she gave me an earful before she went downstairs, I suspect that was probably more Mum's fault than yours." She sighed. "I don't think I can take any more disagreements, John, no matter who or what they involve."
As he gave her hip a slight squeeze, he asked, "What did she say to you?"
Riah, who had been leaning on an elbow lay down, her head on the pillow and watched him. "She wanted me to go with her, London maybe, rather than go home. She offered to hire me bodyguards so Victoria and I would be safe."
Casey felt his jaw tighten.
"I told her we'd be perfectly safe with you," she said softly. "I would have told her I could take care of us myself, but after last night, that's apparently not true."
"You managed," he assured her.
"It took you and Dad to save us."
That obviously bothered her. Casey had never believed in sugar-coating things, but he found he wanted to this time. He watched her, saw the shadows in her eyes, and he picked his words carefully. "You kept him talking until we got there," he told her. "By the time we got back to you, he could have taken the both of you or killed you."
"He was going to," she whispered, and he could hear pain there.
"He didn't," he reminded her. It sounded inadequate even to him, but he still hadn't heard from her what had happened after he left her and Victoria. Part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Victoria made another happy noise, and he decided this wasn't the time to ask.
Riah stole his pillow, stacked it on top of hers and rolled on to her back before she drew her knees up and picked up Victoria, positioned her so that she sat reclined against her mother's raised thighs. Casey moved closer, caught the tiny hand closest to him.
His daughter's hand was only slightly larger than the pad of his thumb. He'd always been uncomfortable around tiny, delicate things, but Victoria was an exception. He hadn't held many babies in his life, nor had he wanted to, but he liked the soft warmth of his daughter in his arms. Not that he would admit that, he thought, as Riah took Victoria's other hand. She curled their daughter's tiny fingers over her forefinger and bounced the hand.
"It isn't over, is it?" Riah asked softly.
He studied her profile, watched her look at their daughter. "No."
"Have you and my father decided whether we get to go home or whether Victoria and I will be incarcerated somewhere else?"
Her question was softly spoken, but there was a slightly angry edge underneath. A similar edge was in his voice when he answered her: "Your mother's offer sounding better?"
She turned her head to meet his eyes. "Unless there's a good reason not to, I want to go home."
Because it was what he wanted as well, he told her so, but he added, "It won't exactly be my call, Riah." V. H. and General Beckman, he knew would make that particular decision.
Her sigh was sharp. She turned her attention back to Victoria for several moments. "I get to keep her with me, though, right?"
Shock had him moving so that he could see her averted face more clearly. She really appeared to believe that someone might decide to take their daughter from her—and not just the bad guys. "Riah?"
Before he could say more than her name, the words came. "She's not going somewhere else just to protect her, and she's certainly not getting Chuck's reserved bunker." Her face was stony.
Casey nearly told her that wouldn't happen, but he killed the words. It could, he knew. He'd be away on an assignment, and he'd come home to find one or both of them gone.
Riah's face went blank. "I spent my life being left behind, John, waiting for my parents to remember they had a child. I was perfectly happy to quit working so that doesn't happen to Victoria." She turned to look at him then. "My father tried, I'll give him credit for that, and it's probably the reason I always felt closer to him than Mum, but I refuse to be separated from my daughter."
A part of him wanted to know if she thought it was okay to be separated from him. He was smart enough not to say it.
"Mum never really had the maternal instinct," she said, and took one of Victoria's socked feet. "She's a narcissist. I can't really blame her for that. She's spent much of her life with people who gave her anything she wanted because of who she is and what she could give them, who tempted her with things she didn't know she wanted, and who stroked her ego. Children can't compete with that."
There was no bitterness there, and Casey wondered why not. It appeared she had every reason to resent her mother's failings as a parent.
"She sailed into my life now and then, generally picked at me—probably in a misguided attempt to improve or fix me—and then sailed right back out again." She rolled her head slightly and met his eyes. "I used to feel like I was an item on a checklist, just another task to see to. Then she had Emma."
Casey slid an arm around her, pulled her into him. "She took time off while Emma was a baby," she said. "She probably did when I was born, too. She still recorded, occasionally did a small show in the Chicago area, but mostly she stayed home with Em."
It wasn't hard to hear that hurt, and he wondered that it hadn't poisoned her relationship with her half-sister. "Then I realized her new-found maternal instincts were actually about her relationship with Ben." She gave a wry, sad smile at what must be Casey's obvious confusion. "Whether she wants to admit it or not, she really does love Ben, and she wanted to prove she could be a good mother the second time around. In the end, though, she couldn't give up whatever the crowds feed in her." She ran a finger down Victoria's cheek. "One of the reasons Emma and I get along so well is because we both recognize neither of us will ever be her first priority, that she'll always drop in and out of our lives when she finally makes time for us."
Surprisingly, he didn't hear self-pity there, even if he thought she deserved to feel that. It also surprised him that she seemed to see something other than the selfishness he saw when he looked at Ariel.
"She's not a bad person, John," Riah told him softly, accurately reading his thoughts. "She loves me—Emma, too—in her own way. She's just not the kind of mother who sacrifices her ambitions for her children." She shifted Victoria a little in her lap. "She comes by it honestly, though." She smiled at Victoria. "Her mother was always up in her studio or out with her paints. My grandmother worked constantly and often forgot she even had family waiting for her. It made her famous and more wealthy than she already was, but it meant my mother spent most of her time with women hired to take care of her rather than with her own mother. Her father worked equally hard, was often gone as well." Riah sighed. "I suspect she's sees little wrong in how she raised Emma and me."
Casey didn't want to feel sorry for Ariel, but he did. He heard something in Riah's words he suspected she might not have ever consciously understood—her mother had been abandoned just as she had abandoned her own children, but he found it interesting that Riah clung to family in a way Ariel didn't. Perhaps she understood what her mother had missed, continued to miss: that people who loved you were far more important than people who loved what you were.
He pressed a kiss on Riah's cheek. "Is this your way of saying cut her some slack?"
"No," she said, and turned to press a kiss on his mouth. "It's my way of explaining what I don't want to be. I don't want to miss a moment of Victoria's life, and I don't want to leave someone else to raise her. I don't want her to wonder why other things and other people matter more than she does."
The guilt crushed. He should be used to that sensation. He'd let a lot of people down in his life, and he knew it. Like Ariel, he'd packed up and headed out, often when people he cared deeply about needed him as much as his government did. "Riah—"
She stopped him with her mouth. "That wasn't meant to be critical of you, John. You've proven you'll be here when we need you and when you can, not just when you have a whim to see your family."
Her confidence in him made his guilt stronger. He tried, but he knew he'd let her down more than once. Her faith in him made him uncomfortable, but then he realized she'd never made demands on him he couldn't fulfill. She'd never drawn a line that would force him to choose between her or his career. He was certain that was because she didn't want to be disappointed, didn't want to know that once more she might prove to be less important.
"Sometimes, Riah," he said as he leaned closer to her, "you should really expect more from the people you love." Her breath hitched a little when he kissed her, and one of her hands came up to shape to his cheek as her lips parted under his.
Emma's startled, "Oh!" didn't make him immediately stop the kiss. When he did, he looked over to where she stood in the doorway, noted her blush, and nearly pointed out she seemed to have an instinct for interrupting them when things were just beginning to get interesting. There was something more than embarrassment in her expression, though. "V. H. is looking for Casey."
He dropped another kiss on Riah's mouth before he rolled over and got off the bed.
"He's in the library," Emma said as he walked toward her.
"Knock next time," he told her with a grin.
"I did," she shot back with her own grin. "Not my fault all those guns have made you deaf."
"Not guns," he grunted, "your sister."
"Gross!" she called after him.
As he turned toward the stairs in the hall, he echoed what Riah had told Julie the year before by calling, "Not gross at all."
The library was below the master suite. It was a large room lined with bookcases with a large stone fireplace and lots of glass. There was a desk tucked in one corner and several comfortable chairs and sofas positioned in the main space. V. H. was at the desk, but he walked forward, gestured at a couple of club chairs near the fireplace. "I assume you were hiding out with my daughter somewhere."
Casey snorted. "Pre-emptive strike so she doesn't attack me again." It wasn't true, but it beat having to hear her father's interpretation.
"I'll ignore that," V. H. said with a smile. "Does she still want to leave as soon as possible?"
"We haven't talked about it since last night," he admitted. "She's settled a bit, but she still won't go back in our room."
"If you can convince her to hang tight a little while longer, I'd appreciate it," the other man told him. "Finley isn't talking, but a couple of his men are. The Ring is watching for her to leave—or for us to—and I think, especially given the weather, staying put is the best option for the moment."
Casey thought, weighed the options, and concluded V. H. was right. "Do you want to try and get MacKenzie, Emma, and Ariel out?"
"I considered that," V. H. admitted, "but it might embolden them with fewer people in the house, so I'd rather risk leaving them here—especially since the roads are dangerous enough without terrorists lying in wait."
"And they would make nice targets for blackmail if they were taken," Casey added. That would kill Riah, he knew.
The other man nodded. "My daughter would insist on making the trade, too, especially if they had Emma." Riah's father nodded again. "Curtiss and the other operatives are still on alert, and the locals have agreed to patrol a little more often." V. H. snorted. "I even have eyes on the water, but it might not be enough if they decide to make a move."
Casey would like resources of his own, but he wasn't going to get them. Beckman wasn't about to put operatives on an asset that didn't belong to them, not even if she feared Riah might crack and give up Bartowski. He ran a hand through his hair and thought hard. He didn't know the area, had only seen it in the dark, so he'd have to trust V. H. That didn't stop him from making the man go through his plans and contingency plans for him. It also didn't stop him from insisting on a tour of the grounds.
As he left the library to find warmer clothes and his boots, he heard raised voices in the living room, and he stalked toward it when he realized one was Riah's. She was practically toe-to-toe with her mother near the Christmas tree. "It's my house, Mother," she ground out, "so I get to make the decisions."
"We always take the tree down the day after Christmas," she said.
"No," Riah said firmly, "you do, mainly because you're about to leave. This is my house, and it's staying where it is."
Casey wondered if his wife had decided to stay awhile or if she was arguing simply to assert some authority. He crossed his arms and settled in to watch the show, ready to step in on Riah's side if needed.
"We won't be staying," Ariel told her. "Last night made it clear it isn't safe, so it makes sense to take it down."
"It's not your decision to make, Mum," Riah reminded her.
"It's not going to be yours, either," her mother assured her. "I'm sure your father and your husband are both plotting the escape right now."
"Actually," Casey cut in, "we're staying." Riah turned to look at him, her face pale. In that moment, he realized he should have explained privately. "Weather's too bad right now," he added and gestured at the glass behind the tree, "and it's safer to stay in a defensible position until we're sure any of Finley's allies we might have missed are rounded up or gone."
Ariel drew herself up and planted her fists on her hips, and he knew round two was about to get underway. He wasn't going to roll over and play dead, and if Ariel really wanted to do this in front of her daughter, he was going to defend himself. He'd try, for Riah's sake, not to go for the jugular, but he wasn't going to take a beating he didn't deserve.
"I have somewhere I have to be," she ground out, "so I'll be leaving no later than tomorrow."
"That's not going to be up to you," he said.
"The hell it isn't," Ariel returned. "You have no jurisdiction here, Casey, and you sure as hell can't tell me what I can do."
"You're right," he said with a shrug, "but if you leave before it's safe and something happens to you, your daughter is going to spend the rest of her life blaming herself for that. I'm not letting that happen."
"Nothing's going to happen to me," Ariel scoffed. "I'm not the one they want. You're the one who caused this."
He nearly turned to see if V. H. had followed him and to demand the other man explain. Instead, he met Riah's pained expression and said, "Let's be clear, Ariel. You inadvertently set in motion what Finley and his men were here for—Riah and Victoria. They're after what's in Riah's head, what you let ISI put in her head, and because she was never quite able to do what they want, they think they can make Victoria into the kind of tool ISI tried to make her mother into."
It was entirely possible V. H. would shoot him for saying even that much, and it was clear Ariel didn't believe a word of it. "Please," she sneered. "You can't blame my daughter for your own shortcomings."
"No," he said, "and I don't blame her for yours, but if you leave before it's safe, chances are you'll be the one they use to get Riah and Victoria. You'll never make it to wherever you think it's more important to be than spending time with your own daughters."
An angry flush spread over Ariel's face, and he felt Riah's hand on his arm. "Enough, John," she said quietly and turned to Ariel. "You, too, Mum. No one's going anywhere until it's safe to do so." He saw her raise a brow at her mother. "If you refuse to listen to sense, Mum, that's your choice, but you'll go alone. I'll see Emma gets safely home, Ben, too, unless he chooses to go with you."
Casey wrapped an arm around Riah, and when it looked as though Ariel would protest, she gave her mother a hard glare. "No more, Mum. Not another word, or I'll have Dad get his men to find a way to escort you to St. John's until you can leave."
He half expected Ariel to take her up on that, but instead, she threw up her hands and marched to the stairs and disappeared. "Sorry," he said quietly enough only she heard.
"What is it about her that makes us want to automatically say no?" she sighed.
Snorting, he pulled her closer, kissed the top of her head. "You just don't like being told what to do."
She leaned into him, looked up at him, and raised both brows. "And you do?"
As he was about to suggest some things he'd be willing to do if she told him to, V. H. interrupted. "We'll lose daylight soon, Casey. If you're coming, get ready."
Riah's eyes went wide.
"Your father's going to show me the grounds, let me see the perimeter defenses."
"I'm coming with you," she said quietly.
"No, you're staying here." V. H. had promised an operative would be in the house, but Casey would feel better if Riah was there as well. If something happened, Victoria wouldn't be alone. Then, he realized his daughter wasn't in the room.
"Emma's with her," she said, accurately reading what he had been about to ask. "She'll stay until I'm back."
"You'll stay here," he ordered, and her face went stormy. "I mean it, Riah." He turned her words against her then, "As you told your father the other night, you're the last line of defense here."
She didn't like it, but he hadn't expected her to. He offered, "I'll appease you all you want later if you do this for me."
As he watched, she crossed her arms and asked for his phone. Puzzled, he handed it over. She did something and handed it back before she, too, marched upstairs. He looked at the screen and knew she wasn't going to hold the order against him after all—but she was going to use it because the number she'd programmed in was for the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary. He grinned broadly.
"I don't like the look of that," V. H. said in mock disgust.
Casey turned the phone around. "I think my wife intends to rape me again."
Her father groaned, and Casey went to find his coat and boots.
By the time they came back in, darkness was falling, and they shook off the snow and removed their boots in the mudroom. V. H.'s operative nodded and went outside. With the two of them in the house, the other man had explained, he had thought it wiser to have the others outside so there were more eyes on the approaches. Casey couldn't fault the logic even if the strategy had failed. There was a guesthouse on the property where the teams were staying, which explained why none were using the main house.
Riah worked at the stove when he padded into the kitchen. She looked up, and he put his arms around her, bent and nuzzled her neck. She jumped, told him, "You're freezing."
He kissed her, then grinned and said, "Warm me up."
"Save it for later," her father said joining them. He eyed the various pots and pans on the stove. "Is that what I think it is?"
Riah smiled at the other man. "You can have some if you'll shut up about my husband."
V. H. left them to it, and Casey turned her, slid his arms around her again and gave her a slow, persuasive kiss. "Dinner, then I'll assault you," she told him.
"I'd prefer you seduced me," Casey told her.
"We'll see," she told him neutrally and turned back to stir the cream sauce. She slid him a look, though, that told him either extreme would be satisfactory.
"Your mother still looking for my head?" he asked.
Her body sagged slightly. "I don't know," she told him, "but we talked, and she's promised to behave."
Casey doubted that would last long, but he told Riah, "I'll behave, too."
"Well," she said, stirring the pasta, "you I can punish if you don't, but I think I might understand that there are extenuating circumstances if you fail your mission." She put down the spoon and turned in his arms again, ran her hands up his chest. "As I told Mum, when the two of you argue, I feel it physically. It's like I'm going to have a heart attack. That's what it's like when she and Dad argue, too, and I'm tired of always feeling like I'm caught between two trains colliding full-speed." She pulled him down and kissed away the sting of that. "Just try, John. That's all I ask."
"Try, I can do," he assured her.
Then he frowned at her when she grinned and did a Bartowski by quoting Star Wars, "'Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.'"
He pulled her closer, grinned against her hair. "Nerds!"
"Mixing your movies, there, John," she said cheerfully. "Dinner will be ready in about five minutes, so, 'Round up the usual suspects.'"
Over dinner, Ariel was on her best behavior, and so was he. He wondered how bluntly his wife had told her mother how their arguments made her react because Ariel occasionally gave her daughter a concerned look. Riah served Fettuccine Alfredo, with homemade fettuccine, steamed broccoli, homemade Italian bread with garlic, and a field green salad. There was chocolate cake for dessert. A couple of bottles from what was surely Ariel's wine collection found their way to the table, too, though Riah stuck to milk.
He and Emma did dishes while Riah fed Victoria. The others had left the four of them in the kitchen, and Emma gave Casey a sidelong look as she took a clean plate from him. "So what did my sister threaten you with to get you to behave?"
Casey grinned. "Sex."
Emma laughed, but Riah hissed his name. He didn't look back at her, instead he returned Emma's grin and handed her another plate. She apparently decided to ignore her sister, too. "Would that be withholding it or forcing you to submit to her demands?"
This time it was Emma's name Riah hissed. "She wasn't clear on that," he told her as he washed another plate. "It could go either way."
"It could go neither way," Riah said tartly.
"That's a definite withholding," Emma said with a grin.
"Is there any part of the universe where no one will discuss my sex life?" Riah demanded, and Casey could hear the exasperation in her voice.
"Not if any of our family are present," Emma returned easily.
"Or mine," Casey conceded.
"That's just Julie," Riah corrected.
He snorted, nodded, handed Emma another plate, and started on the next one. "Or Jan."
This time Riah snorted. "Did you call them?"
He nodded. "Everyone's fine. They miss us. Mother wants pictures of Victoria." He shrugged. "The usual."
"Next year," Riah said, "we should go there for Christmas."
"You mean provided maniacs aren't trying to snatch you," Emma said as she wiped a plate dry.
"Or trying to kill John," his wife said, and he turned to see a grin on her face. "Lots more people go after him than generally go after me."
It was true enough, he supposed, though the truth was it would all depend on how safe Bartowski was—unless the kid got killed between now and then or Casey's assignment changed.
By general agreement, everyone had an early night, and after Emma helped him move Victoria's crib and after the baby was settled in it, Casey had a moment where he reconsidered his plans for the next few hours. He watched his daughter sleep, realized she had a clear line of sight to the bed where he lay with his wife, and decided the last thing she needed to see was her parents having sex whether she understood what was going on or not. When he explained to Riah, she stood, rummaged in the closet, and hung one of the quilts he'd padded the drawer in which Victoria had slept the night before over the rail of the crib.
"She'll still hear," he said as Riah pulled her nightgown over her head and crawled back on the bed.
"Not as long as you don't make any noise." She straddled his thighs.
"I'm not the only one who's noisy," he reminded her.
"I'll have to be quiet, too," she whispered as she leaned in and kissed him. She lifted her mouth a mere fraction of an inch and added, "That didn't stop you last night."
"Get me naked," he ordered before he caught her mouth.
She pushed him back on the pillows and nibbled her way down his body with an excruciating slowness. He wrapped her braid around his wrist to keep her from continuing too far south, and when she had him naked, he was about to pull her back up his body, but she had other ideas.
Not that he minded, he reflected as she moved, pushed his legs apart and then did things with her mouth that tested his ability to be quiet. She licked, she sucked, and he liked that, though when she stopped, he was about to protest before her mouth went lower, sucked one his balls in while her hand trailed up his thigh to press just behind them. She released him, sucked the other in, while her finger stroked a spot that made his eyes cross behind his closed lids. Then she returned to point, so to speak.
He used her braid to stop her when he was on the edge and about to tumble over, tugged it when her tongue didn't stop. She got the message and started moving up his body again. He sat up, though, got on his knees, and kissed the breath out of her before he turned her around and pulled her back into him. It was risky to take her from behind, particularly so close to a rude reminder of Edmonton, but he liked the way she lost absolute control when he did. He wanted to make her lose control, so he positioned her against him, and slid inside her, his mouth on her nape.
"Do you have any idea how good you feel?" he moaned softly and moved a hand up from her hip to her breast.
"Not nearly as good as you do," she gasped.
He snorted, squeezed the breast he held and asked, "How good?" before he thrust.
Her answer was completely incoherent, but he knew exactly what she meant, especially when she rose and settled back on him, started to ride toward nirvana.
There was a moment when he thought he'd made a mistake, when he thought she was going to be disappointed, but then her body seized, so he took over, pushed her over the edge and fell with her.
Casey held her where she was, both of them breathing hard. He thought his legs had probably gone to sleep, but he didn't mind the tiny stabs of pain. He kissed her shoulder, stroked a hand down her body, and wondered how he had managed to be such a lucky bastard for once.
"Can't move," she moaned, and he chuckled against her throat.
"Not sure I can, either."
Then they both froze when Victoria made a kind of grunting noise.
Riah giggled, looked over her shoulder at him, and he caught her mouth with his. No other sounds came from their daughter, so he kissed along his wife's jawline to the spot below her ear. Her breath was shaky when she drew it, and her body tensed, but in a good way. "Go again," she mumbled.
"Need a little help," he told her as he kissed toward her shoulder, "or at least a little recovery time."
Her hands reached back, found his hips, and stroked. His hands rose and glided over her breasts. One of them leaked a bit, and he asked, "What does it feel like when you feed her?"
Riah looked back at him. He'd never really asked, but he wanted to know. "Nothing like what it feels like when you suck on them," she assured him. He watched a thoughtful expression form. "It just pulls at me when she nurses." She smiled. "At the risk of feeding your overactive ego, my body goes up in flames when you do."
He grinned and looked over her shoulder, traced a finger over a tight nipple. "How long do you have to nurse her?"
"They recommend a year," she told him, then covered the hand stroking her breast with hers, "but in several months, she'll begin transitioning to solids."
Casey eased her off him and laid her on the mattress. He stretched out over her. "As soon as I transition to solid, we'll go again."
She laughed softly and lifted her body so she rubbed against him. "I think you promised to appease me."
"I think you still owe me something I taught you," he returned with a grin, "and that was definitely not something I taught you." He cocked his head, narrowed his eyes. "You've been reading that sex book of your aunt's again, haven't you?"
Her smile was unrepentant, so was her body rubbing against his. "You like the breadth of my education."
"There are many things I like about you," he assured her and bent his head to nibble on her shoulder. "Right now, your education is considerably further down the list than you might think."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he said. "I like these." He kissed her lips. "I like these," he said and kissed her breasts. "I like this especially," he said as he ran a hand down her stomach and through the curls where her thighs joined. He slid a finger down, parted her, and stroked before he slipped it inside her.
"Go on," she breathed.
He removed his finger and his hand and rolled off her to lie on his back beside her. "I think your education is probably next on the list."
She kicked his ankle. "Bastard."
"Your vocabulary, however, leaves a little to be desired."
The mattress shifted, and he watched her sit up, reach for her gown. Casey reached a hand out and ran a finger down her spine before he traced her bottom. "This is another thing I like," he told her, slid his fingers underneath one cheek and squeezed, "makes a good place to hang on, though there are times I'm sorely tempted to blister it for you."
His wife looked over her shoulder at him, arched a brow.
"Drop the gown, or I might."
He noticed she kept it in her hand, but she lay back, turned to face him. "Threatening violence probably isn't the best way to get what you want."
"You might be surprised." He took the gown from her and tossed it toward the foot of the bed. "Right now, though, I think we can find something we'd both like."
"I'm listening."
Snorting, he ran a hand down her body again. "What would you like, Mrs. Casey?" he whispered.
"You." She stroked down his arm moved his hand from her hip to where it had been before, and he stroked the wet heat of her. Her breath hitched and her body arched. He bit the taut cord of her throat gently, licked and then kissed. Her hand found him, fondled, and she murmured, "You're nearly back to solid."
He snorted and took appeasing her very seriously.
Victoria woke them somewhere near dawn, and it occurred to Casey that she had nearly made it through an entire night despite the noises her parents had made off and on. He watched Riah get her, bring her back to their bed, and then he protested when she yanked his pillow out from under his head to lay Victoria on it as she rolled on her side so their daughter could reach.
He watched in the dim light reflecting off the snow outside, his head propped on his hand and stroked his daughter's downy head with his other hand. When she'd been born, she'd had a mass of dark hair, but she'd lost it and now had a lot of fine, white hair. She looked completely bald unless you looked closer. He liked the feel of her soft scalp beneath that fine, blonde hair, and he wondered if she would ultimately be blonde like her mother or darker haired like him. Her eyes had remained blue, but that hardly surprised him.
A slight snore escaped Riah, and he grinned, realized she had simply gone back to sleep while Victoria fed. After a while, he woke her, and she gave him his pillow back, propped Victoria's head of her arm and let her finish feeding. Casey was amused that she went back to sleep again, and he wondered if she'd done that very often. He found his pajama bottoms stuck between the sheets at the foot of the bed and struggled into them, saw to his daughter when she'd finished nursing, and when he had her changed and back in her crib asleep, he returned to his wife, settled in, and hoped they'd have another quiet day.
It got off to a quiet start, at least. Ariel remained on good behavior, and so did he. After lunch, though, Riah found him and told him she needed to get out of the house. He protested, but she remained insistent. He finally gave in, and after she got Emma to agree to keep an eye on Victoria while he told V. H. he was taking Riah for a walk, they pulled on coats and boots and went outside.
She knew where she was going, apparently, because she simply took off across the virgin snow. Casey followed, caught up with her, and when he was certain they were far enough from the house not to be seen and far enough from where ISI's men patrolled the grounds, he flung her in a snow drift and followed her down.
Riah laughed. It occurred to Casey that this was the most carefree he'd seen her in a long time. When he kissed her, she kissed back. "We could make all the noise we wanted here," she told him with a raised brow and a grin.
"Too damn cold to follow through," he told her.
"Who said naked had to be part of the equation?" she asked softly and burrowed her hands inside his coat.
He was about to suggest the stand of trees nearby when he heard a distinctive sound followed by a terse, "Don't move."
Until he turned around, Casey figured some eager ISI operative thought he was about to get lucky and catch someone after Riah. Since Casey was after Riah—but not in the way the operative likely believed—he prepared an explanation and a warning to stay the hell away unless there was a real threat.
Then he looked over his shoulder at the man and knew letting Riah talk him into this was probably going to get them killed.