Primal (3 page)

Sensuality curved his lips, edged at his thickly lashed eyes, and sometimes, just sometimes, lit the dark gray irises of his eyes with a wicked hunger. A hunger she glimpsed when she had turned fast enough to catch it in that instant before it was gone.

Brushing back a wisp of dark blonde hair as it fell over her shoulder, Kita couldn’t help but wonder at the attraction.

He’d been with them far longer than any other security specialist. A few weeks past a year. She remembered marking the day, almost as though it were some inane anniversary. And it was all his fault. It was the bad boy corrupting the good girl she was.

She had been a good girl all her life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t recognize that glint in a man’s eye. Just because she was a good girl didn’t mean she was stupid, and it sure as hell didn’t mean she wasn’t well aware of what the sensations spiking through her body meant.

When her nipples hardened and throbbed and her clit swelled, aching for touch, she didn’t just know what it meant, but sometimes she was even smart enough to know how to take care of it. When her flesh felt too sensitive and she was so aware of the need for pressure against her lips that she was forced to press her teeth against the lower curve, she knew it was a hunger for his kiss.

That didn’t mean he knew how to kiss. She had assumed any number of men knew how to kiss and had been sorely disappointed. No doubt he would disappoint her as well.

She gave a small sigh as she pushed the sunglasses down her nose and watched as he stood at the other end of the pool. His hands clasped in front of him, the white shirt he wore bright beneath the brilliance of the afternoon sun.

She noticed the other two security specialists, as they called themselves—they were nothing more than hired guns, really—appeared to be sweltering beneath the bright, late-spring sun.

Creed Raines was anything but sweltering.

From where she lay against the lounge chair, she couldn’t detect even a hint of sweat on his brow.

She stared into the dark lenses of his glasses, wondering if he was even awake. He hadn’t changed position in an hour. He had to be asleep.

Could a man actually sleep standing on his feet?

Tilting her head, she watched him carefully.

She had heard of it happening during times of war.

Smiling, she mimicked a kiss toward him, then gave her lips a little flick with her tongue. And there wasn’t so much as a smile or a change of expression.

So much for amusing herself by teasing him. It had become her favorite pastime over the past few years. Well, not teasing her bodyguards, but definitely torturing them in one way or another.

“Kita, isn’t it a little cool yet for sunbathing?”

Well, there went her fun for the day.

Sitting up, she readjusted the chair before pulling on the thin wrap at her side and then glancing up at her father.

“You didn’t bring the iced tea, Daddy,” she chided him with a smile as she curled her legs close to her body and allowed him to sit at the bottom of the chair.

For a man nearing sixty, he was still in reasonably good shape. His hair was still thick, though it was more gray than brown now. Laugh lines were slowly being replaced by worry lines, and his once laughing brown eyes were somber and tired.

The death of her mother last year had destroyed them both, but her father wasn’t recovering.

“You should come in out of the sun.” He cleared his throat uneasily. “It’s still rather cool. You could become ill.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Daddy,” she told him gently. “I don’t get sick at the drop of a hat.”

For a while she had, when she was younger. She was no stranger to pneumonia and no stranger to hospitals. Thankfully, she had grown out of it. But her father hadn’t grown out of his habit of worrying about her.

“You’re getting restless.” His gaze sharpened on her. “Creed informed me he caught you trying to slip out of the estate last night.”

She turned and stared back at the bodyguard. He had promised not to tell. The damned liar.

She turned back to her father just as slowly. “I’m not twelve any longer,” she stated carefully. “I wasn’t trying to slip from the estate. I believe I calmly got into my vehicle and tried to drive away.”

“From the back entrance?” His brow lifted.

Kita wanted to roll her eyes; instead, she gave a little shrug. “I wasn’t allowed to leave, Daddy. I’m your daughter, not your prisoner . . .”

“My daughter who is now in danger.” His voice tightened, the anger simmering behind his eyes coming through in his tone. “Your uncle is missing now, Kita. Phillip’s body has never been found since the bodies of his guards were discovered in that cabin.”

Kita dropped her gaze to her lap. Twining her fingers together, she tried to think of a way to change the subject.

She and her father didn’t see eye to eye on her uncle anymore than they saw eye to eye on her confinement.

“Kita, stay close to the house.” His voice hardened. It wasn’t a request, it was an order.

She tried, she truly tried to keep her head down, to pretend to acquiesce to his wishes. But there was this part of her that just couldn’t do it.

She lifted her head. “It’s been two years, Daddy, since you and Uncle Phillip decided it was a good idea to attempt to walk into Sanctuary and abuse the Breeds’ hospitality by trying to collect your ill-gotten research. I’m tired of putting my life on hold.”

She hadn’t agreed with them. She had remained silent over the years, she had tried to give her father the time he needed to fix the situation, but it was only growing worse.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Surprisingly, his hand jerked out, his fingers curving around her arm as though he wanted to shake her.

Shocked, Kita’s gaze flicked to where his fingers gripped her tightly before she turned and stared back at him. He too was staring at his hand as though it belonged to someone else.

“Dad?” The quiver in her voice wasn’t fear. It was a reflection of the strike of betrayal she felt tightening her chest.

In response, Horace Engalls uncurled his fingers and pulled his hand back, but the surprise on his face disappeared as the expression of anger returned.

“What happened was beyond both our control.” His jaw clenched, flexed. “What’s done is done. It can’t be undone. But I won’t allow you to be used against me by the Breeds, Kita. I won’t allow you to be turned against me.”

What an interesting turn of phrase.

“No one could turn me against you, except you,” she assured him as she slowly swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair and rose. “I think I will go in now. It’s suddenly not as pleasant as it once was.”

Her father rose as well, his hand gentler but no less firm as he once again gripped her arm and held her in place.

“The Breeds are moving against us, Kita,” he bit out harshly, his once kind, gentle brown eyes now flinty with determination. “Phillip is missing, your mother is dead, your aunt Cara is under arrest, and there are rumors of Breeds targeting Phillip’s entire family. I won’t have them taking you.”

“What are you so frightened of?” Kita could feel the nervousness, the sense of impending disaster suddenly tightening her stomach. “What have you done in the past two years? You swore.” Her breathing hitched. “You swore to me and Mom that you would never help Uncle Phillip in his schemes again.”

Her mother was gone, but she had believed he would honor the promise he made to her, that he would ensure he did nothing further to enrage the Breeds.

“Do you think I had to do more?” This time, he did shake her, just enough to shock her, to send a spurt of wariness pulsing through her. “Do you think, Kita, they wouldn’t use you if they could? That they wouldn’t take you?”

“Why would they want me?” This time she jerked her arm out of his grip, the hurt and anger rising inside her as she fought to hold on to it. She didn’t want to argue with her father. She didn’t want to fight with him, but God help her, what had he done that he was now so frightened?

It was enough to have fear edging past weariness. He had promised, and she had trusted him to keep that promise.

“God, Kita, they want you as a bargaining tool; they believe that by threatening to harm you, they can force something from your uncle. Or that I know something I don’t and they can force it from me.” He raked his hands through his hair, a grimace twisting his face. “They have Phillip. They’ll come for me next.”

“Only if they have a reason to,” she whispered painfully as she stared up at him, desperate to understand where her beloved father had gone. “What have you done, Daddy?”

He shook his head slowly. “It isn’t what I’ve done, Kee,” he whispered then. “It’s what your uncle’s done. And it will destroy us all.”

“No.” She knew better. “It’s not, Father. The only way I would be in danger is if you were involved.”

His lips parted as though to speak, but no words came. It was in his gaze, though. It was in the guilt, the shame, and the pain in his eyes.

What had he done?

He had broken his promise to her and to her mother.

“I’m glad Momma isn’t here,” she whispered tearfully. “I’m glad she didn’t live to see you betray her.”

The blow against the side of her face caught her off guard. The shock of the burning pain, but even more, the horrible sense of betrayal was like a dagger shoved into her soul.

“Mr. Engalls.” The voice was dark, low, and warning.

Kita’s gaze jerked up to meet the dark lenses of Creed Raines’s sunglasses and the tight expression behind them.

“What the hell do you want?” Her father turned on him then, enraged.

“I think you want to back off,” Creed drawled. “I didn’t sign on to watch a father that supposedly loves his daughter suddenly begin abusing her. Now did I?”

“Supposedly love,” Kita choked out as she backed away from both of them. “That’s a fairly apt description for a liar.”

She didn’t wait for her father to turn back to her or to see Creed’s response. Kita all but ran from the two of them, the anger and the pain converging inside her to tear at her heart until she felt as though it were nothing but shreds.

Rushing into the house, she moved quickly through the first floor, up the stairs, and into her bedroom where she slammed the door closed and locked it.

Laying her head against the door, Kita blinked back her tears and knew the decision she had been on the verge of making for the past months had been made the second her father’s large hand had connected with her cheek.

It was time to leave, no matter what it took.

CREED HADN’T EXPECTED
this. Staring into Horace Engalls’s eyes, he had to admit that even though he had sensed the tension and the anger building in Kita’s father, he never imagined Engalls would strike his daughter.

Hell. Had he realized what was about to happen, he’d have stepped in sooner. The girl loved her father. She called him “Daddy” with that soft voice that bespoke a soul-deep affection.

He never would have allowed Engalls to do anything to threaten that affection or damage the precious emotion his daughter felt for him.

“Did I ask you to interfere?” The fear lay about Engalls like a particular stink, rancid to the senses.

Creed inhaled slowly, his senses amplified for some odd reason, the animal genetics that shared his body rising to the fore as though a true animal paced within his soul.

“You didn’t have to ask,” he assured the other man with the subtle Texas drawl that went with the identity he had stolen for this little adventure. “I offered. Do you really want to make her hate you? I’d say you’re riding that line with that slap to her delicate face.”

He could see the imprint of her father’s hand on her creamy flesh, and he’d never had such trouble holding back the primal growl that edged at his throat.

In that second he watched Horace Engalls’s lips tremble as emotion, a father’s love, overrode anger and fear.

Engalls lowered his head, gave it a brief shake, then turned and stomped into the house, leaving Creed staring after his retreating back.

Creed almost smiled; definitely he felt a flare of satisfaction. For the past year he’d been working as one of Engalls’s security specialists, slowly replacing the men that had originally come in with him with men he trusted himself. Men who would stand aside and ensure that when the time came, Creed would have a clear path to his objective.

To Kita Claire Engalls, the reigning, mostly spoiled princess of what was left of the Engalls empire.

He had been with her when her mother had died, just after he came to the estate. He’d been here each time she’d tried to slip from the estate for a bit of harmless feminine fun.

Sometimes shopping. Sometimes a late dinner with friends. A few times a bit of dancing at the exclusive nightclubs she and her friends enjoyed.

He knew her.

He knew her habits, he knew her expressions, her scents, and her flirtatiousness.

And he knew his dick was rock hard when she blew him those mocking kisses or watched him over the rim off her glasses as though he were a sensual treat and she wanted to lick him up a drop at a time.