Read Dare You to Run Online

Authors: Dawn Ryder

Dare You to Run (7 page)

So much better …

She was in bliss, there in his embrace. He'd closed his arms around her once more this time, molding her to him, stroking her from nape to the swell of her bottom with a touch that set fire to her blood. She wanted to purr. Wanted to arch back and close her eyes so there wouldn't be anything else in her world except the feeling of his touch.

He grunted, the sound drawing her gaze up. He still knew too much about shadows. They were in the dark, completely hidden from the rest of the world. She would never have realized there was such a place to escape to among the high-security zone of the White House and yet, he'd found it. Now, he was a dark visage, tempting her to melt against him and share the moment.

Live in the moment … reach for what you crave … take it now, before it slips away.

She shivered, the longing to do exactly that nearly consuming her. The delicate surface of her lips felt dry and she rolled them in, drawing his attention.

“Princess.” His tone was harsh, edged with self-loathing and a lack of discipline she understood because she was experiencing the same thing. She felt his breath against her wet lips a moment before she felt his kiss.

Her memories were bullshit, a sorry excuse for the real deal.

The real deal? She stretched up onto her toes to get more of it, slipping her hands up his chest, savoring the feel of him before finding his bare skin above the collar of his uniform jacket. That connection shook her to her core, breaking down the walls she'd built to keep her desires contained. Now they burst free as he kissed her, the way only Vitus had ever kissed her.

Boldly, passionately, and all the while touching her like she could take every bit of his strength. It was the thing that stroked her inner needs, that confidence in her ability to meet him and not need to be handled like a delicate vase. He held her like a woman and she kissed him back like one. Time froze, the seconds moving by like hours. There was only the taste of him and the way he angled his face so he could press his lips against her more completely. It was firm and spine-tingling. He moved his mouth across hers before boldly pressing her lips apart and tasting her deeper.

Just as quickly as it had begun, she was standing alone. There was a full foot between them though it felt like ten. She was breathing hard, and he was glaring at her. She would have sworn she could feel the heat of it.

“Good-bye Princess.”

This time, the word was somehow different, his tone transforming it into an endearment, a very, very personal one. It stroked the memory of the hours she'd taken refuge in his embrace, those stolen moments when she had been a woman, his woman.

His …

He melted back into the darkness as she forced all her feelings back into the box she kept them in. When she emerged, she was everything she was expected to be.

But deep down inside, she was still his.

And always would be.

*   *   *

“The car is being brought around for you.”

Her sire glided up to her side as the clock struck one. The good wives and younger children were making their way toward the exit while men like her father were getting ready to dig in for a long night of whiskey and information gathering. More business went down in the cigar rooms than anywhere else.

“Trenton will make sure you get home.”

“Of course he will,” Damascus purred. Her father's personal bodyguard was constantly dogging her heels. Her belly suddenly tightened as she realized what Carl had said about her not having too many lovers.

One look at her sire and she realized she wasn't wrong. There was a calculating look in his eyes, his mind working on a plan that included her playing her assigned role.

“You're having dinner with Carl Davis tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened but her sire was striding across the polished ballroom floor without waiting for her reply. Oh no. She was expected to fall into line. Well, that wouldn't be happening.

“Ms. Ryland?” Trenton inquired softly from where the burly man had been shadowing her sire. He extended an arm toward the door.

Damascus took off, eager to be done with the appearance, and yet part of her longed for one last glimpse of Vitus.

What are you going to do if you see him? Run to him? You wouldn't dare.

No, and that was perhaps the saddest part of all. She was a coward. The car pulled up the moment she made it to the doors, the press snapping shots of her as she slipped inside and Trenton shut the door.

*   *   *

Damascus leaned her head back against the top of the seat in the limousine and allowed herself a moment of rest. She was wrung out, her cheeks aching from holding a smile so long. The delicate layers of her evening gown felt stuck to her skin with perspiration.

And her lips still tingled from his kiss.

Alone in the car, she could indulge herself and just let go of the façade that was her life in favor of recalling exactly how it had thrilled her to be back in Vitus's arms.

Maybe fate was finally being a bit kind. Granting her a last taste of what she wanted before she struck out on her own. She indulged herself in a smile, letting the knowledge of her coming liberation lift her spirits. Carl could suck her dick. Blunt, crass, and very definitely not the sort of thought her sire would approve of.

Which made it perfect.

She wasn't going to be Jeb Ryland's little princess bride, nor was Carl going to saddle her. Oh no, she had plans. Ones that were going to come into play very, very soon. Sure, there would be plenty of people who would condemn her for using her father's money to finish her education, but she'd paid him back in all the simpering he demanded of her.

That wasn't going to be part of her future.

No, she'd made her own plans and made her own arrangements. In some ways, she was her father's daughter all right. She'd learned to play shadow games and deal in secrets. There were advantages to knowing everyone in Washington, D.C. One of which was the fact that she had been able to arrange a posting to a very classified laboratory just as soon as her doctorate in contagious diseases was processed. She was about to become a doctor of contagious diseases when those little germs were rapidly becoming the weapons of the new era. Small pox, polio, Ebola, and even the Black Death. She'd studied them and was going to spend her life learning more about them and their containment.

She was going to serve her country and humankind, and there wouldn't be a damn thing her sire could do to stop her.

Her smile faded as she contemplated the other thing she'd get from going into a sealed faculty—protection. The one thing she needed if she was going to leave Jeb Ryland behind. He had enemies, ones who had proven they'd use her to get to him. That was why she couldn't go just anywhere. But a classified level-five laboratory? It was the perfect haven.

You mean prison …

No, she meant haven because her life with her father was a prison, and that was the only way she was going to allow herself to think about it.

She resented that fact, resented him for not being a decent person. Not that being angry helped her any. Thinking her circumstances through had. She'd devised a way to be free, and it was about to come to fruition.

Success, but it would not include the man she loved. Vitus Hale was not the sort of man that any woman should ever make a pet out of. So she wasn't going to even think about suggesting he join her. He'd likely face off with her father and be furious with her for trying to protect him.

She indulged in a smile. Yes, Vitus wouldn't accept her shielding him, at least he wouldn't if he ever discovered what she'd done. That didn't stop her from contemplating telling him. She always pulled away from reaching out to him though. The reason was simple. She'd told him she was a woman, so she'd shoulder her load, in the same way he'd come to her rescue and protect her.

After all, it wasn't his fault her family was whacked. Loving him meant letting him make a clean getaway.

So that was exactly what she planned to do.

*   *   *

“Something's got your attention,” Kagan said.

Vitus considered ignoring his section leader as he opened the first few buttons on the top of his dress uniform. Back in the parking garage, he was finally free to dispense with the formalities. He dropped the Medal of Honor into his pocket, pissed off because he hadn't really enjoyed getting it. There had been a time when he dreamed of earning one. Being jaded sucked.

“The question is, what are you going to do about it?” Kagan continued.

“Keep watching Tyler and Ryland,” Vitus answered. “They'll slip up one of these days.”

“They already did, with that Magnus affair,” Kagan reminded him. “We've got to get it to stick.”

Vitus climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. Kagan rode shotgun as they drove out of the parking area.

“Ryland showed his hand tonight,” Kagan continued. “That girl is his weak spot, because he needs to give Carl what he wants. Press on it.”

“No.” Vitus turned around a corner and onto the interstate. Kagan was cutting him a hard look.

“You can't afford to be picky.”

“I'm not going to use her,” Vitus said. “Shut the fuck up about it or you can walk.”

He was being insubordinate, but Kagan liked his rough edges because when it came to dealing with bad guys, nice guys finished last. Sometimes, dead last.

Kagan let him drive in silence for a long time but Vitus didn't think he'd won the point. Kagan wasn't a pushover by any stretch of the imagination. No, his section leader was cultivating arguments.

“Damascus might have pissed me off, but it was personal. She's already been dragged through hell for the sake of who she's related to. I won't add to that,” Vitus said as he started into the quiet neighborhood where his brother's team was operating from. The soccer moms never would have guessed that one of the sedate-looking mideighties homes actually housed an elite Special Operations team. Of course, that was the entire point.

Vitus pulled the van into the driveway and past the fence that kept the curious from seeing what was going on. A second car pulled in on his tail. His brother Saxon and Agent Thais Sinclair joined them in the driveway.

“Thanks for the backup,” Vitus said. “Good night.”

Saxon waited until his brother was out of earshot. “I'll do it.”

Kagan offered him a small curve of his lips. It was high praise from a man who lived his life among shadow operatives. Anyone who wasn't sharp died pretty darn fast. That left only the best, and Kagan appreciated Saxon knowing something was up, even without solid intel.

“Be in touch,” Kagan said. “Keep your suit pressed and your shoes shined.”

“And make your peace with God,” Thais added. The female member of their team was sleek and poised. The meager light made her evening gown shimmer, but neither man made the mistake of being duped by the picture she presented. Thais Sinclair was a deadly operative, a fact she'd proven more than once. She offered Saxon a long, hard look. “Ryland isn't going to like seeing you anywhere near him. Show your face and it will touch off an explosion.”

“That's what I'm hoping for,” Saxon answered.

Thais made a soft sound under her breath. “Be careful what you wish for, gentlemen. We almost got wiped out the last time Ryland came after us.”

“Which is why I don't plan to wait for him to make another attempt,” Saxon said. “There's also Tyler. He's somewhere close to Ryland. No one else could protect him or pull that many strings to get him released after that business with the Magnus case.”

“In that case”—Thais offered a soft shrug—“count me in. Nothing I like better than facing an oncoming train.”

She walked up the driveway, still looking perfectly poised in spite of being in heels for the better part of the day. There wasn't even a tiny falter in her steps, her body moving in a sultry motion that made both men fight to maintain their professional outlook on her.

“Be ready,” Kagan said before he turned and walked down the driveway. A car was waiting, and he ducked inside it while it sat on the curb with its lights off.

Saxon nodded before moving on toward the house. He swept back his jacket to show his shield to the man standing in the entryway. There was a flash of red laser as the badge was scanned, and Saxon pressed his hand flat on a screen to confirm his identification. The screen chirped approval and the guard moved out of his way.

“You agreed?” Vitus was standing in the hallway. What would have been the dining room of the house was a communications center with computers and phones. Large flat-screen monitors were secured to the walls where family pictures would normally be. They lived the way they did so that the rest of the world could have normal dining rooms. Saxon didn't have any regrets.

“Leave her alone,” Vitus said. “I mean that, brother.”

“I'm not going to touch her.” Saxon defended himself. “But you can bet I am not letting Tyler think we're just going to let him slide. Ryland is the key. I plan to make sure that bastard sees me watching him.”

“That's dangerous,” Vitus said.

“There was a time you would have called it ballsy,” Saxon shot back.

“That too,” Vitus agreed. “I just thought you were old enough to think with your brain these days.”

“I'm not the one thinking with my cock,” Saxon responded. “You're letting your association with that girl influence your decision. She's a good trigger point, and those are too hard to come by in men like Ryland. If we want Tyler, we're going to have to take risks.”

Vitus knew it. He turned and went down the hall to the back door and went into the garage looking for his bike. He took a moment to pull on a leather jacket and helmet before taking off back down the driveway. The night air was crisp, chilling his neck. It was the time of night when construction crews were working on the roads to avoid tying up commuters. He checked the small screen that was in the side of his helmet for the road closures and avoided the traffic, slipping into the driveway of his house a few minutes later.

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