For one brief second she was at home again. The home her parents had left her. The small two-story brick house she had lovingly decorated after her divorce from Dane, filled with sunshine and Cassie’s laughter, and a sense of roots. And Victorian flowered sheets and quilts on the bed. Pillows plumped. A little girl’s frilly bedroom with the canopied bed and white oak furniture. Her home. And it was gone now. Forever.
Taking a hard, shuddering breath, she opened her eyes. The guest room held heavy, dark furniture, comfortable and elegant with a thick forest-green carpeting as the rest of the house held. There was a small French door leading to the wrap-around balcony. A Queen Anne chair sat beside it.
“Come on, Cassie.” Elizabeth moved to the large tote Dash had brought in from the Hummer. “Let’s get ready for bed.”
She gathered the little girl’s gown and robe and knocked softly on the door that connected her room to Dash’s. When there was no answer she opened the door and entered it. Getting Cassie ready for bed wasn’t hard. The little girl was exhausted. She curled under the warm quilts of the bed half an hour later and settled right into sleep. Within minutes she had made one of the soft, mewling little sounds that always brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face. She shook her head at the sound.
This new situation was so out of sync with the past two years that Elizabeth couldn’t settle down. The awareness of danger that had surrounded her for so long was no longer present. She sensed the change on every level of her being. As though with Dash’s arrival, there was now hope. How, she didn’t know. But she felt the sense of hope building around her even as she instinctively doubted it. How could anything change so quickly just from the presence of one man?
But why not? He had changed something in her as well. In the space of twenty-four hours he had made her realize she was more than just Cassie’s mother. She was a woman, too. And it had been a long time, a very long time, since she had felt that surge of feminine need and the thick, juicy arousal pooling between her thighs. Her pussy ached. It had never ached like this, even during Dane’s courtship of her. She hadn’t been on fire from a single kiss. She hadn’t wanted him so quickly or so heatedly as she suddenly realized she wanted Dash Sinclair.
Chapter Nine
Elizabeth watched Cassie the next afternoon with the Toler’s little girl, Mica, as they played in the backyard. They were throwing snowballs and romping through the snow, laughter echoing into the brightly lit kitchen where she sat with a cup of coffee.
Dash and Mike had left earlier for the study after explaining to Elizabeth that they were looking into safe houses for her and Cassie, as well as information on Grange. There had been an air of secretiveness between the two men, as though they were delving more deeply into both assignments than they were telling her. But it didn’t matter the questions she asked, she had learned no more than that.
Not that the two men hadn’t answered all her questions. They had. It was just a feeling, a sense, that there was more.
She watched now as Cassie and Mica rolled in the snow, laughter and mock screams exchanged with the ferocity of little animals. Cassie had her teeth locked in Mica’s jacket as the other little girl laughed uncontrollably.
“Mica was so happy to have another little girl to play with. I’m glad you were able to make it so soon.” Serena Toler sat down across from her, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, careful not to block Elizabeth’s view of the girls.
“Thank you for allowing us to stay,” Elizabeth said softly. “Cassie needed the time to rest. I just hope we don’t cause you any problems.” She was terrified she would bring Grange’s wrath down on the family.
Serena snorted. “Mike and Dash should be so lucky as to have that bastard try to attack here. Trust me, Elizabeth; this house is better secured than Fort Knox. Mike doesn’t take chances and he’s seen worse than Grange.”
Elizabeth couldn’t imagine anyone worse than Grange.
As they sat there watching the children play, Elizabeth smothered her yawn, realizing this was the first time in as long as she could remember that she wasn’t running or preparing to run. She had slept several hours the night before, but out of habit was awake often, checking the locks on the bedroom doors, listening closely to the sounds of the house.
“Go lie on the couch and rest, Elizabeth,” Serena suggested softly. “I’ll sit here and watch the girls, and Mike has several of his old unit working the ranch. They’re on babysitting detail outside. You need to rest.”
Elizabeth had been introduced to the three men. They were a bit older than Dash, but just as hard and capable looking. And if there was one thing she had learned, it was to rest when she could.
“Thank you.” She carried her cup to the sink, rinsed it and set it in the aluminum depression before heading into the large, open living room.
She could still hear the children playing, though the sound was muted. She knew they wouldn’t be able to stay out much longer and felt confident enough to lie down and close her eyes for a brief time.
She realized as she drifted off to sleep that never, in the past two years, would she have trusted anyone else, anywhere else, to watch Cassie while she slept. She was too vulnerable if her mother wasn’t awake and aware. But somehow, Dash had instilled a trust in her that had snuck up on her in the past twenty-four hours.
He had killed to protect her and Cassie. He had followed them in a blizzard, risked his own life to bring them to a place where they could heal, where they could rest, at least for a time. She no longer suspected him of betrayal, and perhaps that surprised her more than anything.
As exhaustion wrapped around her, though, it wasn’t trust or betrayal that fed the rich visions within her mind. It was Dash. Naked, fresh from the shower, his body pressed hard against her, her hand overfilled with the hard length of his cock. She didn’t think she had ever known heat as intense as she had when he brought her hand down and wrapped it around the rigid flesh. His eyes had flared. A betraying warmth and wet heat had assailed her pussy, making her throb, ache. She was still aching.
His kiss—she shifted restlessly—his kiss was like rough velvet and summer lightning. His taste was dark, heady. She could well imagine him laying her on a bed, his body covering hers, pressing her into the mattress, heavy and demanding as he placed himself between her thighs.
She almost moaned at the image, needing him with her now. Needing him to cover her, take her, finish out his threat to fuck her so hard and deep she couldn’t still her cries. She had never been taken like that. Dane hadn’t exactly been a passionate lover. And his kisses had never made her burn. Right now, Elizabeth was burning.
———
Dash stepped into the living room, then came to a complete abrupt stop. His eyes swung to where Elizabeth lay, apparently sleeping, her body shifting restlessly on the couch. What was she dreaming? He could smell her arousal, hot and sweet, wrapping around him, tempting every primitive instinct rising in his body. His cock came to full, surging attention beneath his jeans; his flesh suddenly felt overly sensitive, as though he could feel the very air whispering around him.
He heard Serena puttering in the kitchen getting lunch together. The kids’ voices echoed from the heated garage where they now played. Mike was still in the study, waiting on the call from Kane Tyler with word on the request Dash had made. He hoped the other man wasn’t foolish enough to refuse him. A trip to Virginia via more conventional mode wouldn’t set well with Dash.
All that faded, though. The hot surge of arousal and need that swept over his body in that moment was so intense, so demanding, it had him automatically stopping to still the response. Never had a woman made him this damned hungry. So hungry he wanted nothing more than to throw her to her knees and mount her like the animal that resided inside him. If he didn’t take her soon, he was going to go mad.
He stalked slowly into the living room, head lowered, his eyes going over her slender body, her full breasts pressing against the soft cotton of her blouse. A button had come undone, displaying a small amount of cleavage. She was still decently dressed, but the soft upper mounds of her breasts made his mouth water.
She would be wearing one of the silk and lace bras he had bought her, he thought. The ones with the little front clip, easy to release and peel away. Her breasts were full; her nipples were hard, so damned hard and tight beneath her shirt that his tongue ached to curl around them.
He knelt to the floor beside her, his hand lifting, his fingers smoothing a stray strand of silken hair from her cheek. Her whispered sigh was almost a moan, her pouty lips parting as though for his kiss.
She needed her sleep, he told himself as he stared down at her. She didn’t need him awakening her, molesting her in her sleep. Too many choices had been taken away from her; he didn’t want to take that from her too.
He was aware of Serena slipping on a coat in the kitchen, the whisper of the sliding doors as she left the house. Privacy. For what? For the hunger to rage inside him until he devoured her? He didn’t think so. Didn’t think she was ready for that step just yet.
Her eyes opened then. They were drowsy, slumberous, staring up at him with a hunger that was impossible to miss.
“I felt you,” she whispered, a smile tilting her moist lips. “Watching me. Should I feel you watching me?”
Was she asleep or awake?
“Of course.” He found the growl building in his throat. “Every time I look at you, baby, I touch you.”
Her cheeks flushed as her hand reached up to touch his face. Cool, silken fingertips brushed over his flesh before they touched his lips. They traced the curves, her eyes darkening with need, the scent of her arousal wrapping around him until he wanted to drown in it. Drown in her.
His lips opened, drawing one of the slender tips into his mouth, caressing it with his tongue as he wanted to caress one of the hard little nipples poking against her shirt. His hand settled just under one of the swollen curves, plumping it up as a spark of surprise lit her eyes.
“When I get you beneath me, I’m going to devour you,” he told her harshly as her finger slid from his mouth. “Every inch of your body, Elizabeth, I’ll make burn for me.”
She was breathing roughly now. Her breasts rising and falling with her quick breaths.
“I already burn,” she admitted with slumberous sensuality.
“I’ll make you burn brighter,” he promised as his lips lowered, but rather than moving to her lips, he allowed his own to whisper over the soft curve of her breast revealed by the slipped button.
Her breath caught. He could smell her wet heat building, knew her cunt was pulsing, spilling the soft liquid of her arousal. And he wanted to taste it. Wanted to bury his tongue so deep between her thighs that he would always be a part of her.
“Dash.” Her sigh was thick with pleasure as his thumb reached up and rasped over her hard little nipple.
It was killing him to touch her like this. To maintain a façade of decency when all he wanted to do was strip her and pound so hard and fast inside her gripping cunt that denying the need was agony.
“I have to stop this,” he groaned, allowing his tongue to rake over her fragrant flesh. “Now, Elizabeth, or I’ll embarrass both of us.”
He would do worse than that. He would be fucking her on his host’s couch within minutes if he didn’t get the hell away from her. Mike was a pretty understanding guy, but Dash didn’t think he would appreciate coming in from the study to find his guests fucking their way to oblivion on his couch.
He raised his head, seeing the hard flush of desire on her cheeks, her knowledge of where they were and who could walk in at any moment. She cleared her throat and swallowed tightly as he settled back and watched her. She pushed herself up until she was sitting on the couch, her trembling fingers fumbling with the button of her shirt.
“Let me.” He brushed her hands aside and committed the ultimate sin. He buttoned her shirt, once again covering the perfection of the delicate curves.
“Dash.” He could hear it in her voice. Knew what was coming. A carefully constructed excuse. A denial of what he knew would happen.
“Don’t.” He laid his finger against her lips. “It’s going to happen, Elizabeth. You know it and I know it. Don’t make excuses and don’t try to deny it. When the time is right, when I have the privacy and the time to make you burn so hot you’re screaming, it’s going happen. Don’t think it won’t.”
Her eyes widened. Her little pink tongue peeked out to moisten her rose-tinted lips. The low moan that rumbled from his throat had her cheeks flushing further.
“Hey, Dash.” Mike forestalled anything she would have said as he walked in from the hallway.
He paused, staring back at them. His expression suddenly reflected a wry apology. “Sorry. I was going to get lunch as soon as I could drag Serena back into the house. Hungry?”
Oh, he was hungry all right, Dash thought. He glanced at Elizabeth, seeing her chagrin.
“Lunch?” he asked softly.
She cleared her throat. “Lunch.”
Chapter Ten
The tension slowly building between them didn’t ease. Dash stayed locked in the study with Mike for the better part of the day, but he came out often. And when he did, he came searching for Elizabeth.
He gave her soft touches. A hand on her shoulder, at her waist, as he eased her against him. He smiled down at her, stealing cookies when she and Serena weren’t looking, his eyes glittering with heat. He wouldn’t wait much longer. Elizabeth could feel it in his tense body, see it in the way he looked at her. He had claimed her before he ever met her and soon, he would make good on that claim.
Finally, that evening, she found a few minutes to pin him down on the progress being made. Sitting around the house and waiting was wearing on her nerves. She could only rest so much. Serena was a perfect hostess, the kids got along well, and Elizabeth found herself filled with so much nervous energy now it was hard to control it. She was used to running and worrying. She wasn’t used to a place of safety or any amount of time on her hands that wasn’t filled with the fight for survival.