ore. There was no way he was about to make the trek to Mike’s ranch until he had a chance to rest. Until he had a chance to get a break from the intriguing scent of woman, shy arousal and sleep flushed skin.
Damn, she had been pretty, slouched in the seat beside him, her head often resting on the wide console between them. Once, he had dared to touch the silk of her hair, sliding his fingers through it and feeling the curls cupping his fingers. She had the softest hair he had ever known, with surprisingly thick curls spiraling down her back. Hair that made a man think of sex, wild and sweet. But overshadowing the lust was the need to protect.
He wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her close to his chest and assure her she was safe. Promise her they would protect Cassie. Together. Swear the earth and moon if it would ease the haunting shadows he had seen in her eyes. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t make the promises even if she would accept them. The chances of failure, at the moment, were too high. All he could do was fight with every weapon he knew to assure their safety. He was confident he had enough fight to do it. But first, they all needed to sleep. To rest, at least for today.
Thankfully, there had been a drive-through open in the heart of town serving hot food. A quick stop and he had enough to feed himself, the woman and child. They had both slept as he ordered and collected the food. Next, he had stopped and gassed up the Hummer, careful to take the keys out of the ignition as he stood at the gas pump. He wouldn’t put it past her to take off and run again. Hell, it was what he would have done in her place.
When he got back in the vehicle, Cassie was still sleeping, but her mother was awake. Not exactly aware—she hadn’t managed more than two hours restless sleep—but she was awake.
He kept the coffee he had purchased hidden in the sacks from the drive-through in the back until he pulled into the motel, checked in and then drove to their assigned room. It was far enough from the main road that it hid the Hummer and gave Dash enough confidence that he would hear another vehicle if it pulled in. Not that many others would be able to navigate the slight incline that led to the back rooms.
He didn’t waste time with words. He wanted the comfort of the room, the news, and a handy telephone. The cell wasn’t exactly dependable in this weather. Getting out of the Hummer he moved around the vehicle to the passenger side, opened the door and lifted Cassie from the seat as Elizabeth moved stiffly into frigid air. The snow went halfway up her legs but she never showed the obvious discomfort.
She trudged behind him, just as silent as he was, as he made a path to the door. He swiped the card, opened it carefully and then stepped inside. Turning, he watched the slowly lightening day as Elizabeth moved quickly past him. It was still dark out and forecasters were expecting the storm to go on through the day. Hell, they all needed time to rest anyway before heading to Mike’s madhouse.
Elizabeth was flipping lights on as he closed the door and walked to the farthest bed. He laid Cassie down on it slowly, pulling the blanket over her as her mother moved to her. Elizabeth had a damp cloth in her hand. She used it to quickly clean Cassie’s sleep-flushed cheeks, her small hands. A smile tugged at his lips at the motherly response.
She slipped Cassie’s shoes off, then lifted her gently and pulled the blankets over her. It was all done very efficiently, very economically. Dash shook his head, turning away from the sight. He didn’t understand mothers. But hell, he’d never had one. He had turned out fine, hadn’t he?
Then he thought of Cassie. He stopped at the end of the bed and turned back. He had survived because he was tough. Hard. Damn, he didn’t want her that way. He wanted to see the sweet, charming little girl who had saved his life with her letters. He wanted to see her smile, see her secure. Mothered.
He shook his head as he turned and stalked back to the door and into the storm. He had clothes and supplies for the mother and child. Things they would need. He had been hauling the damned things around for months, the minute he had realized that each time they were found they were forced to leave damned near everything they owned except the clothes on their backs.
Minutes later he re-entered the room, instantly finding Elizabeth in a defensive position in front of Cassie as the door opened. He set the large tote he carried on the floor then went back out. When he returned with his own bag and the food and coffee, she was sitting at the end of Cassie’s bed, watching the door.
“There are gowns, clothes and stuff in the tote.” He set the fast food bags on the small table. “I’ve bought stuff here and there as I realized everything was being destroyed from place to place. You should have everything you need.”
He saw her startled look as she glanced at the hard plastic container.
“I need a fast shower.” He pulled his service revolver from the personal bag he carried on his shoulder. “If anyone comes to the door, let me know. Otherwise, there’s food and coffee in the bag. Plenty enough for everyone.”
He didn’t expect a response. He didn’t get one. She just stared up at him with those big sad eyes, so much like Cassie’s, as though she couldn’t decide if she were still dreaming or awake.
Dash ached to hold her. He couldn’t stop the need, so he didn’t fight it building in his body, but he kept his arms, his thoughts, and his needs to himself. He had a lot of practice at that. Knew just how it was done. Control. That was all it took. But those shell-shocked eyes did something to him that made his guts tremble with an ache so unfamiliar, so imperative, it was damned hard to fight.
Her eyes went to the gun as he stood there. An uncontrollable flare of fear flashed in her gaze. He couldn’t blame her for it. But he hated it.
“I’ll be out in a bit.” He had to get away from her. If he didn’t, he was going to touch her. If he touched her, stopping would be hell. And he would have to stop. Now was not the time or the place.
He turned the television on as he passed it—the steady noise would keep her nerves calm, he hoped—then moved into the bathroom. If he didn’t get a shower and settle his own libido down, he was going to go stark raving mad. His cock was waging a constant war with his head. It was hard, aching, needing her. Just a taste of her.
Damn, the woman’s scent had been like a call to arms to his dick. It hadn’t relaxed in the miserable hours of being confined in the Hummer with her. It was still steel-hard and insistent. Not exactly a condition he found any comfort in. It wasn’t as though Elizabeth was even in any shape to realize it. And if she did, it was the wrong place and the wrong time. First, came Cassie’s safety. Then he could claim the mother.
He shook his head as he entered the small bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving it unsecured. He stared down at the lock and sighed wearily. Building trust was a bitch.
* * * * *
Elizabeth opened the lid to the tote slowly, sinking to her knees and staring down at the contents in surprise. The clothes were all new. Some designer labels, some not. All were functional and would be easily cleaned, a must for an eight-year-old child. Stacked within the tote were clothes for her as well. She flushed as she pulled a pair of lacy thongs from the neatly folded contents. They were her size, but so delicate and sexy she would have blushed to wear them.
There were nightgowns and robes for her and Cassie, socks and dependable shoes still in their boxes. She pulled a dark blue, little girl’s gown free. It was long, cotton, with long sleeves and a lacy collar. There was a robe to match it. Several packages of little girl’s panties and socks, unopened.
Next, she pulled one of the gowns and robes he had bought for her out. A smile tugged at her lips. It was flannel and long, with a robe to match. Something to keep her warm. With it was a pair of thick, padded socks. Had the man forgotten anything?
She shook her head in confusion, wondering when reality had ceased to exist. From one minute to the next she had gone from pure terror to a sense of tentative hope. Surely if he was going to turn her and Cassie over to Grange, he would have done so by now.
But could she r
eally trust her own instincts? She rose to her feet, hearing the water cascading in the other room. Elizabeth swallowed tightly. God, she wanted to trust him, but fear was like a demon riding her mercilessly. The gun and the Hummer would get her closer to her own destination.
She looked at the clothes again, touched the soft gowns and wanted to scream out in fury. She couldn’t trust, no matter how desperately she wanted to. No matter how her soul screamed out in protest, she had to get Cassie away from this new, possibly unknown threat.
The sound of the shower was loud, the pipes groaning. She hadn’t heard the lock click in place and she was desperate. She stood and moved for the door.
Stilling the tremors of exhaustion and nerves that wanted to shudder through her body wasn’t easy. She hated the thought of betraying the only person left to stand between her and her enemies, but she couldn’t bear the thought that she was wrong once again, either.
As she neared the bathroom door, she thought of the others she had trusted. Admittedly, there hadn’t been many. There was the police investigator in Arizona. She hoped he was living well on the little payoff he must have taken to reveal her location. On the other hand, she remembered too well the news report of the death of the auto mechanic who had helped her escape after repairing her car. He was dead. Because of her.
Her hand gripped the doorknob, turning it slowly, quietly. He couldn’t take the gun into the shower with him; it would have to be lying within reach. She inched the door open, slowly, carefully…
Dash leaned his head against the wall of the shower stall, grimacing almost painfully. Don’t, baby. Please don’t. The words whispered through his mind as Elizabeth’s scent stirred the air around him. Even his balls tightened at the smell. Female, sensually warm, determined, frightened. Her fear made his heart ache. Her warmth made his cock jerk demandingly. There was nothing about her that didn’t make him hot and hungry.
Steam collected in misty tendrils, wrapping the smell of her around his senses, driving a bolt of hunger through the pit of his stomach straight to his throbbing erection. He could see her in his mind’s eye, focused, steeling herself against her fear as she moved into the small room.
Trust was essential, he reminded himself firmly. She had to know he could protect them, that he would protect them. She had to know he was strong enough, confident enough, to even stop her if he had to. But once he confronted her, would he have the strength not to touch her?
Don’t do it, Elizabeth. He clenched his teeth as the whisper of her slight body moving past the doorframe had him tensing expectantly. Leave! Don’t let me touch you! If he did, he would never stop. One taste could never be enough. She would be a banquet to his senses, a feast of erotic delicacies. But only if she trusted him. Only if she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he was there for her and Cassie. Not for their enemies.
Building trust was a bitch, he reminded himself. Better to get it started and get it over with now. He couldn’t help her if he had to guard against her as well as the men hunting her. If he could get past this initial surge of defiance, then they had a chance.
The defiance was tempting the animal he fought to keep contained. The one that knew this was his mate. Knew this woman was everything he had searched for in his life. Keeping it contained was a battle he knew would erode quickly. Already, within hours of finding her, there was little he could think about except sinking into the warmth and heat between her thighs. Drowning in the hot depths of her cunt as she tightened around him. Never, at any time in his life, had a woman affected him quite this way.
He let her move into the room. He felt the hot water pelting his skin, smelled her scent growing closer, tracked her with every sense he possessed as she moved steadily to the gun and the keys that lay on the shelf above the toilet.
Her steps were light. Damn, she would make a perfect mate. The thought shocked him, but he realized the truth of it instantly. She was light and steady, resolved in her course of action and making almost no sound as she went for the weapon. She would fight beside him, no matter the battle, physical or emotional. If her heart were committed, then it would be as fierce as any she-wolf’s. She was a bundle of dynamite; destructive to the enemy, life-giving to those she loved. But right now, until she knew if he were friend or foe, she would always suspect enemy first. She would always defy him. He couldn’t allow that.
He gave her just enough time to feel victory. Just enough time to allow her fingers to whisper a caress over the weapon’s handgrip before he moved. The shower curtain flew back and he was out of the tub, water spraying as he gripped her shoulders, pushed the door closed then anchored her against it. The move was made within a second, with barely a whisper of a sound, though he had expected her to fight him.
She didn’t scream. Damn her to hell and back, she didn’t even cry out. No more than a breath of air disturbed the silence as her gasp, quickly reined in, whispered past her lips and her eyes stared up at him in startled fear and surprise a second before her knee cocked and let loose.
Dash barely had a second’s warning before he could block the groin shot. One part of him admired the speed and effectiveness of her move while the other part was amazed at her daring.
One thigh pressed hard and tight between hers, lifting her to her tiptoes, grinding against the soft, hot pad of her pussy. Her response was instantaneous, though less than welcome by her, he could tell. She strained against him, jerking at the manacled hold he took of her wrists as he locked them behind her head with one hand, arching her breasts into his chest, his knee rubbing against her heat.
Lust was pounding through his system with every hard beat of his heart, stripping the veneer of civilization that he kept pulled around him, tempting the hunger gnawing at his loins.
“Stay still, dammit. I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled as she twisted against him, despite the fact that she wasn’t gaining any headway in her struggles.
She was frightened. He could hear it in her harsh breathing, the struggle to hold back her sobs. She had taken a chance and now she would fear the punishment he would exact. But he was careful not to hurt her. He restrained her, controlled her struggles, but he knew he wasn’t leaving so much as the slightest mark against her skin. Skin already bruised, already wounded by too many hard knocks.
He pressed against her, holding her to the door as he stared down at her silently, feeling her soft tummy cushion his raging cock. And she hadn’t missed the impact of the steel-hard flesh pressing against her either. That or the imperative need he allowed to glitter in his eyes.
One hand threaded through her hair, tilting her head back. His head lowered slowly as he stared down at her, watching her eyes dilate, her skin flush then pale alarmingly.
“When I let you go,” he allowed the growl building in his chest to echo in his words, “if I were you, I would turn that sweet ass around and hightail it back into the bedroom with Cassie. If you hesitate, even for a second, if you so much as breathe a hesitation, then I’m going to fuck you so hard and so deep against this door that you’ll never hide your screams of pleasure from that child sleeping in the other room. Do you understand me, Elizabeth?”
His control was a fragile thing right now. The only thing stilling the hunger to taste her parted lips was the knowledge that Cassie slept only feet away from them. The fact that if he tasted her, he would need more. Always more.
Her eyes widened further, the blue darkening in shock, in amazement. Strangely enough, also with a flare of arousal. Thankfully, she nodded quickly, but nothing could still the fact that her full breasts were rising and falling sharply against his chest. And her nipples were hard. Damn her to hell, they were hard as little pebbles, raking across his damp chest like pinpoints of searing flames beneath the covering of her shirt.
He moved his hand from her hair, gripping her wrists individually. Before she could resist, he wrapped the fingers of one of her small hands around the girth of his cock. They had no hope of circling it fully. She had small, delicate?
??God, soft hands. His groan was throttled, a sound of agonizing pleasure.
“Never,” he snarled desperately. “Never, Elizabeth, try this on me again unless you’re prepared to accept the consequences. Because next time, I promise you, I won’t let you go.”
He stepped back from her quickly, his heart nearly exploding in his chest at the brief hesitation of her fingers on his erection as he released her. Then she snatched her hand back, holding it to her chest, staring up at him, her lips parted, startled awareness darkening her eyes further.
“Go. Now.” He clenched his fists. Fought his hunger.
She gasped. In a second she turned, fumbled with the doorknob and fled the small room as Dash threw his head back and grimaced against the building fury in his loins. Damn her to hell. He was starving for the taste of her.
He stepped back into the shower, slammed the curtain closed and flipped on the cold water. Son of a bitch. This hard-on would kill him.
Chapter Five
She should be running. Elizabeth paced the motel room, her body shuddering with wicked, pulsing tremors that teased at the emptiness between her thighs. She should have bundled Cassie up and just run. Storm or no storm. She was in over her head here in a way she feared was certain to drown her.
She didn’t even know him. That thought seared her senses as she collapsed into one of the two chairs by the table. She knew nothing except the short, cryptic notes he had sent her daughter for a year. Sometimes humorous, but always with a dry, wry humor that had Elizabeth shaking her head. Cassie had liked them, though. She would giggle and say Dash just had trouble telling tales, to give him time and she would teach him. And perhaps in a way, she had. The last few months Dash had written to Cassie, he told her the oddest things. How the scents of the desert were different from home. The sound of a helicopter. The quiet, cold nights in the mountains of a land Cassie would likely never see herself. Little things. But not exactly phrased the way other men would say it.
At least, no men Elizabeth had ever known before or since.
She stared over at the television. The newscasters were once again covering the story of the amazing discovery of the Feline Breeds. The men and women who had come forward were the wonders of the world at the moment. News reports had covered several rescues of other Breeds, a few Wolf Breeds but mostly Feline Breeds. They were totalling in the hundreds now, six months after the first newsbreak.
Amazing. Elizabeth shook her head. The cruelty of man never failed to amaze her. They had been created, trained, then hunted as though their DNA made them no more than the animals they were genetically related to. Like a modern day safari, uncaring of the brutality or the horror they perpetrated, the Genetics Council had done everything to destroy their creations when they couldn’t control them.
Yet, somehow, rather than reverting to the savagery that was obviously a part of their DNA, the Breeds had instead maintained an honor, a strength, that had helped them to survive the cruelties.
Elizabeth envied them in many ways. Even the females were strong, tough, trained to fight and capable of protecting themselves. It made her feel insignificant, very lacking, and she hated that feeling. Hated knowing her own faults, her own weaknesses. She hated the fact that she wanted nothing more than to feel Dash’s arms around her again, for just a few wild moments, to forget the dangers and the pain and to be a woman once again.
She sighed wearily and pulled a cup of hot black coffee from one of the sacks. There was a cola there as well. The other bags were packed with food. Two larger ones held five Styrofoam breakfast platters. The smaller ones held a variety of biscuits. But she imagined a man that large could eat a lot of food.
Her stomach rumbled imperatively and she shook her head at the timing. She needed to think. To run. Not realize the smell of food was so enticing that she had centered on it more than she had escape.
But it wasn’t as enticing as what she had held in her hand moments before.
Elizabeth felt her entire body heat; flush in what she assured herself was embarrassment. Liquid warmth gathered in her vagina, spilling silkily along the swollen lips of her cunt. Her response to him had been as hard, as shocking, as a lightning bolt.
She sipped at the coffee, her eyes fluttering in pleasure at the taste, then dug out one of the platters and a plastic fork. Okay. She couldn’t think while she was starving. And she had to think. Dash Sinclair was going to be more of a problem than she had ever anticipated. He could possibly be more man than she had ever encountered.
God. He was definitely a lot of man. Thick and hard, his erection had shocked her with its size. But his body in general had shocked her. Darkly tanned flesh stretched and rippled over hard-packed muscle. It wasn’t the awkward, graceless look of obscenely bulging muscle, rather it was corded, hard, filling out each inch of his body and shimmering beneath the skin with an aura of intense power. Like an animal, well honed and conditioned and used to hard, intense battle.
She swallowed the fluffy eggs and quickly polished off the breakfast before turning back to the television. It was a good thing she had eaten before watching the news, because what she saw would have easily put her off the meal.
They showed the victim’s face, if you wanted to call him a victim. Elizabeth sat up straight, staring in shock at the image on the screen. She knew him. It was the same bastard who had tried to ambush her and Cassie in their apartment the day before. He wouldn’t be ambushing anyone else.
He was found in the basement, his throat cut. The newscaster called it a professional, highly skilled hit. He still carried his money. The diamond ring on his hand. His credit cards.
His identity was given, as was the police record and information on the current warrants for his arrest. She trembled, barely aware that the shower had shut off and the bathroom door had opened.
A sudden flashing memory had her gaze swinging to Dash. Beside the gun had been a long, curved, sheathed knife. The wide hilt had looked imposing. Now she knew why.
He stopped, gazing back at her somberly as she stared at him in shock. For the first time she realized that Dash’s confidence wasn’t as misplaced as she had feared it was. He appeared to be a well-oiled fighting machine because that was exactly what he was.
“You killed him,” she whispered, watching him in amazement. No one who had gone against Grange’s men had succeeded. They were either bought off or killed, according to how disposable his hit men considered them to be. Dash had been neither bought off, nor harmed. He had killed instead.
Broad shoulders, still gleaming with moisture, shrugged carelessly. He wore soft sweatpants and white socks, but nothing more. In one hand he carried the clothes he had worn into the bathroom, in the other he carried the holstered gun and the knife.
His eyes went to the television, narrowing on the report as the reporter spoke into the camera.
“Took them long enough to report it,” he grunted as he walked over to the bed he had lain his leather case on.
He pulled out a black plastic bag, stored his dirty clothes then repacked them. The weapons were tucked beneath his pillow.
“You killed him,” she repeated, careful to keep her voice low in case Cassie woke up.
Dash turned back to her. There was no regret in his gaze, no sense of remorse or apology. His gaze was steady, though slightly quizzical, as though he didn’t understand her shock.
“He was a diseased animal, Elizabeth,” he said with a distinct air of unconcern. “He was waiting on you, certain you would come back, and intended to make you and Cassie pay for getting away. Anyone else who tries for you will die just as quickly.”
Silence filled the room. Elizabeth could only stare at him as he moved away from the bed, taking the other chair and pulling two of the platters free as well as the last cup of coffee.
“You need to take a shower and sleep the rest of the day. From now on, we travel at night. If this blizzard has blown over by evening then we’ll head to a ranch just out of town. I fought with Mike overseas
. He’s dependable, and he can put me in touch with some people who can help us.”
Elizabeth shook her head, wondering at the dream-like fog that seemed to fill her mind. He was talking as though he hadn’t been forced to kill a man because of her and Cassie. As though his life had never been in danger and he had done nothing out of the ordinary.
She could feel her heart racing at the knowledge, her mind scrambling to accept what he had done. No one had been able to stand against Grange’s goons before. They always fell, one way or the other. And yet here Dash sat, remarkably unconcerned about the danger involved.
Of course he wasn’t concerned. She blinked warily. He was stronger than they were, tougher and smarter and evidently a hell of a lot more determined. For the first time she realized just how intent he was on protecting her and Cassie.
He glanced over at Cassie, a light frown creasing his brow as her little snuffles of sleep filled the room. Following his gaze Elizabeth watched as the little girl moved beneath the blanket, a little smile tilting her lips, her legs stretching out as though in play.
“She sounds like a little pup when she sleeps.” Elizabeth shook her head, trying to accept the changes occurring so quickly. “She’s always done that. At least I know she’s sleeping, not dreaming, when she does.”
She shook her head. Cassie had nightmares. Sometimes, she couldn’t sleep well for days straight.
Right now, she was stretch