Elizabeth's Wolf

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 stretched under the blankets, her slight body relaxed and comfortable. Her dark hair framed her sleep-flushed features as she breathed softly, evenly. No. There were no nightmares now.

“I want you to wake her up. She needs to eat and shower, then she can sleep until we head out tonight. I want her alert and focused.”

Elizabeth swung around, anger erupting through her system then. Protector or not, she wasn’t about to allow him to ruin the only true sleep Cassie had known in weeks.

“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since she’s slept so well?” she hissed. “I’m not about to wake her up.”

He sighed deeply. There was no returning anger, just determination.

“If you don’t wake her up, keep her up for a while, then she’ll sleep while we’re awake and be asleep when we all need to be at our best. Or even worse, too damned tired to hold onto us, or run if she has to. We have only a few nights to get her ready for the trip we’ll hopefully be making next. Now wake her up, or I will.”

His gaze was level, commanding.

“You can’t just make these decisions without talking to me first, Sinclair.” She was shaking, fury nearly robbing her of any control. “That’s my daughter. And I won’t allow you to jerk her out of a perfectly sound sleep just because you say so. And you sure as hell aren’t making any more surprise trips with her without letting me in on what’s going on first.”

Her fists clenched with her anger as she stared up at him. He watched her with that cool, assessing gaze, as though she were an amusing little insect under inspection at the moment.

“Tonight, with any luck, we head to Mike Toler’s ranch, just outside town,” he repeated, then surprised her further. “Mike is former C.I.A. and has some contacts and information I need about a possible safe house in Virginia. Until I find out if that house is available to me, I don’t want to say more. Mike will shelter us as long as we need, but I only want to stay a day or so. Long enough to acclimate Cassie to me, and to give you a chance to rest. Period. Then we leave. Satisfied?”

She pressed her lips tightly together. He wasn’t being mocking or sarcastic. He seemed perfectly serious.

“Let Cassie sleep a while longer,” she stated firmly. “Another hour. She’s just a baby, Dash. She needs this.”

She moved to step around him then, to make her way back to Cassie’s bed, when the pain in her thigh suddenly intensified, sending her stumbling as she forced herself not to cry out with the shocking strike of agony through the muscle.

She knew better, was her next thought, to move without thinking first. The pain from the flesh wound had been growing steadily and she had a feeling it was going to bring her problems. Now, it had thrown her back against Dash’s body as he caught her against his chest, then swung her into his arms.

She gasped. His chest was just as hot, just as firm, as it had been in the bathroom. His arms flexed beneath her back and thighs, muscles rippling with strength as he stalked to the sink counter across the room.

“I forgot about your leg.” Self-disgust filled his voice. “I should have taken care of that first thing.”

He sat her on the counter before she even had a chance to get used to being in his arms.

“Stay put,” he growled, giving her a hard, fierce look.

She stayed put. But she watched him closely as he went back to the bed, pulled out a small bag from his larger case then lifted one of the chairs and carried both back to her.

“Let’s check your side first,” he announced. “I know you cut yourself shimmying out of that window.”

She looked back at him in surprise.

“A piece of your shirt hung on that broken window,” he said. “There was blood on it.” He pointed out the rip as he started lifting her shirt.

Elizabeth tried to breathe in deeply, naturally, as his fingers probed the tender area gently.

“It’s not too bad,” he murmured. “When you get out of the shower we’ll put some salve on it and bandage it.”

She nodded silently as he lowered her shirt again and then watched her expectantly.

“I’m going to put you back on the floor. Take off your jeans so I can check that leg.”

Elizabeth blinked. Out of her jeans? “No,” she snapped hoarsely.

The wound was high on her thigh, several inches above her knee and to the side. There wasn’t a chance in hell…

“Don’t make me cut them off you, Elizabeth.” He sighed, staring down at her. “We’re both tired and both riding our tempers. If I don’t take care of this it could become infected and then you won’t have a chance of helping Cassie. Is that what you want?”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s dirty,” she hissed.

His expression grew harder. “That’s the truth. Now take the jeans off, before I take them off for you.”

His hands went for the snap. She slapped them back, almost laughing at the look of startled surprise that flashed across his face. His eyes narrowed, the dark golden-brown depths glittering in determination.

“Fine,” she muttered, sliding off the counter, thankful her T-shirt was at least long enough to cover what was most important. “I’m starting to think you’re too bossy, though.”

He grunted. He didn’t say a word, but the sound held a wealth of male superiority. She flashed him a resentful look as she eased the jeans down, biting her lip as the material scraped over the wound.

“Up.” He gripped her hips and lifted her back to the counter; the jeans still hung at her knees. “You forgot your shoes.”

Elizabeth forgot her sanity. He lifted her foot, propping it on his thigh and unlacing the cheap sneaker carefully. His long hair feathered forward, the roughened, damp strands caressing her upper knee as he removed the shoe. He shifted to the next, his hair stroking the skin over her other knee as he removed it as well. Her whole body flushed.

Had a man ever affected her this deeply? Had one ever made her long to just touch him, to just stroke his flesh and revel in the feel of it?

As the last shoe fell to the floor, his hands—amazingly gentle hands—pulled the material from her legs, his head rising, his eyes meeting hers as he undressed her. The heat she saw there took her breath. It made his eyes lighter, appear almost amber rather than dark honey. His high cheekbones flushed, his lips becoming heavy with sensuality.

“Shouldn’t need stitches,” he whispered hoarsely as he checked the line of raw flesh. “You were lucky, baby.” The endearment sent a shaft of heat vibrating through her vagina and into her womb.

He opened the first aid kit and took several items out, though she had no idea what they were.

“This will hurt,” he whispered and she saw his eyes blaze in fury at the thought. “I need to disinfect it, then cover it so you can shower.”

She was entranced by his face, his expression. It was savage, so filled with hunger it took her breath and almost made her forget the pain in her leg.

“I cleaned it. At the diner,” she said nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear before gripping the edge of the counter desperately. “It’s not too bad. It stopped bleeding.”

He shifted in his chair, his broad, calloused hands probing at the wound as she grit her teeth at the feel of his fingers against her skin. They were so warm, gentle.

“I killed that bastard for this alone,” he whispered shockingly, causing her heart to race in her chest. “And I would do it again, Elizabeth.” He raised his gaze, watching her closely. “It wouldn’t matter who it was. I’ll kill them before I allow them to ever hurt you or Cassie again.”

He glanced back down at her leg before moving to his feet. She tried to ignore the tenting of the soft fleece of his pants. She really did. But he was huge. He ignored his own arousal, though. Removing a bottle of antiseptic from the kit, he dampened a large square of gauze before turning back to her.

His eyes were filled with pain. “I hate seeing you hurt, Elizabeth,” he whispered. “I can’t bear it.”

She would have reassured him. Would have told him how she had doused it herself with alcohol in the diner if he hadn’t shocked her past speech.

His lips covered hers as he laid the gauze on her leg. Fiery pain shot through her flesh as his lips swallowed her cry, then replaced it with such amazing sensation she wanted to whimper in return. He licked her lips. He didn’t steal her kiss. He didn’t take it. He cajoled it from her. His tongue swiped over the curves, pressed gently at the seam, licked at her heatedly until she opened her lips and allowed him entrance.

Did he growl? A short, rough sound echoed in his chest as his hand fell away from the gauze, both arms coming around her, pulling her against him, his lips slanting over hers as he began to feed from her mouth. There was no other way to describe it.

His cock was a length of hot steel pressing against her suddenly fiery pussy as he kissed her. It ground against her clit, made her body moisten, made her feminine cream slide free of her vagina and saturate her panties. He had to feel it, even through the fleece of his pants, had to know she was wet, her body wild from his touch.

He nibbled at her lips, his tongue raking forcibly past them to conquer her mouth with hot, ecstatic licks and smooth thrusts. He dared her to return each caress. Challenged her to give as good as he gave. And Elizabeth was helpless against the ravaging onslaught.

His kiss tasted like midnight, dark and deep, frighteningly savage and yet with a power so seductive, she became lost within it. Her breasts swelled, ached. Her nipples poking demandingly against the cloth of her shirt as he moved his bare chest against them.

He didn’t take advantage of her arousal, though. Didn’t try to force more, though Elizabeth wondered if she would have had the strength to pull away from him. He held her against him, his arms contracting around her, hands stroking over her back as his tongue learned every secret of her mouth and urged her to return the favor.

It was seductive. Tempestuous. Given and taken in silence, with only the hard rasp of their breathing disturbing the air around them as he kissed her with a hunger only surpassed, maybe, by her own.

His taste alone drove her to seek more made her greedy for each stroke of his tongue along hers. Her hands stroked over his shoulders, his hair, on fire to feel as much of his body as this stolen moment in time allowed her.

How long had it been since a man had touched her? How many nights had she lain awake dreaming of this man? Envisioning him coming to her, whispering his need for her, his hunger, offering her his strength and his heat. She gloried in it now. She stretched in his arms, rubbing against him, feeling his warmth seeping into her skin, heating the chill that had filled her for so long.

They were both fighting for breath within minutes. Bodies strained to get closer, the air heating with a primitive lust that Elizabeth had no idea how to fight. She only knew how to arch closer to him, to feel the ache in her breasts for the touch of his broad hands, the pulse in her pussy for the thickness of his cock. To know she was alive. Finally, irrevocably alive and for one moment in time, a man had no other thought in his head than to touch her. To hold her. To…

“Momma. Momma, where are you?”

Cassie’s frightened voice was like ice flowing over her as Dash jerked away from her, struggling for breath as he turned way, obviously fighting to hide his erection in case Cassie came running into the hidden alcove.

“Momma’s here, Cassie.” Elizabeth slid off the counter, limping quickly around the corner to allow Cassie to see her.

The little girl was sitting up in the bed, her eyes dark with fear as she clutched the teddy bear Dash had laid beside her.

“Was I dreaming?” she whispered, looking around the room, her eyes filling with tears. “Didn’t Dash come, Momma? Isn’t he here? Did I just dream it again?”

“Cassie…”

“I’m here, Cassie.” Soft as velvet, pitched low, Dash answered for himself.

Elizabeth turned back in time to see him coming from the sink area, his body obviously under control as he paced over to his own bed. He sent Cassie a reassuring look before he pulled a T-shirt from his bag and dragged it on. The soft gray cotton hugged his chest and hard abdomen, the sleeves stretching over his powerful arms. When he finished, he snagged the gown and robe from the top of the opened tote and passed them over to Elizabeth. Flushing, Elizabeth held the long garments in front of her as she watched her daughter.

Cassie was staring back at Dash, her eyes wide, amazement reflecting in her expression.

“Wow, Dash, you’re really big,” she giggled, her lips curving into a bright, pleased grin as he sat down on the side of his bed and looked at her curiously.

Elizabeth watched this first true meeting cautiously. Cassie had had such dreams of Dash coming to rescue them. And though she admitted that if anyone could save them, then it was Dash, it was still hard to let go of the control she had maintained over the situation to this point.

“Do you think I’m too big?” He frowned as though worried at the prospect. “It would be hard to shrink at this late date, Cassie.”

A vivid smile broke across Cassie’s face and before either Elizabeth or Dash could guess what she was about to do, she flew from her bed and jumped into Dash’s arms.

Elizabeth gasped at Cassie’s speed and daring. She had never been one to trust men, she hadn’t even enjoyed her father’s embraces, but here she was throwing herself at Dash.

He caught her to his chest in reflex, his gaze going to Elizabeth in shock, his eyes filling with an emotion she couldn’t define as Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a loud kiss on his hard cheek.

“I’m so glad you came, Dash,” Cassie cried against his neck. “I was so scared. So scared you wouldn’t be able to find us. That I was wrong and that you wouldn’t really come and help me and my momma. But you did. You came, Dash.”

Elizabeth’s heart clenched as Dash’s eyes closed, his expression tightening with emotion as he swallowed hard.

“Yes I did, Cassie,” he whispered against her hair, holding her gently, holding her as her father never had. Comfortably. With warmth. With caring. “I’m here, Cassie. Where I intend to stay.”

Elizabeth gasped at the statement at the same time his eyes opened, the golden depths hardening with determination. She had a feeling she might have a chance of surviving the dangers surrounding her with Dash at her side, but knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had no intention of allowing them to escape him. He had just made his claim.

“Come on, Cassie, we need to get a shower.” She fought to keep her voice even, to still the tremor of nerves she could feel racing through her body.

He might think he had made his claim, she thought, and she might need him now more than she had ever needed anyone in her life, but he would learn she wasn’t as easy to conquer as he thought she was.

“Oh Momma, let me sit with Dash.” Cassie turned back to her, her expression pleading, her eyes wide and distressed. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“You’re always good, sweetie,” Elizabeth assured her, keeping her voice firm. “But you need a bath, and I need a shower. Now come on, so you can eat and maybe watch cartoons for a while.” She dangled the treat before her daughter, hating to take something away from her that she wanted. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—trust Dash that far.

“But, Momma…” Cassie whined.

“Now, Cassidy Paige.” She used her full name, keeping her voice firm, aloof. She prayed Cassie didn’t choose now to defy her. She didn’t think she could handle the fight.

Cassie sighed deeply as she slid off Dash’s lap. “You won’t leave. Will you?” she asked in a small voice.

“I promise.” He laid his hand against his chest, his expression somber. “I’ll be right here, waiting on my cartoon partner.”

Cassie giggled as Elizabeth moved to the tote and picked out the clothes Cassie would need. Toothbrushes, hair brushes, little girl’s hair bows, a multitude of small, insignificant but prized items were all held within a large clear plastic carrier lying on top of the clothes. She drew it out, gripping her robe and gown before her as she backed to the bathroom. She kept her eyes on Dash, fought to keep her worries under control.

He watched her, his golden-brown eyes quiet and intense. Steady.

“Don’t forget to put a decent bandage on your leg,” he reminded her as she reached the alcove. “That soap will burn like he…” He cleared his throat. “Like heck.” He glanced at Cassie.

Elizabeth flushed but nodded quickly before easing Cassie toward the bathroom door. Like Cassie, she wanted to ask him if he would be there when they were done. If he would promise not to leave.

Somehow, he must have read her fears. Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he returned his hand to his chest. “I promise.” He mouthed for her alone.