Her Hero in Hiding Page 12

  She tensed. “Yes?”

  “I’m going to be wound up tighter than a spring, especially at night. There’s no way I can hide it from you. I’m going to be pacing this cabin like a lion in a cage. I’m going to go outside frequently to check things. I just want you to know, because the simple fact that I’m on edge doesn’t necessarily mean that I know something is happening right then, okay?”

  She nodded slowly, feeling a hollowness inside her.

  “I’m going to be hyperalert, hypervigilant. That means… Well, try to avoid startling me, okay?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “I’m going to be operating on instincts honed by years of experience in dangerous situations. Unfortunately, that makes me dangerous, too.”

  “I think I understand.”

  “Maybe you do, to some extent. Maybe not.” He shook his head. “I hope you do, because when I react it’ll be fast. Thought won’t even enter into it.”

  “Okay.” She tried not to let him see that he was making her uneasy. She could get hurt if she startled him? How could she be sure not to do that?

  But he seemed to want to move on. “I suggest you take a shower now. Get into some clean clothes. I have more sweats you can wear. Get comfortable. Because later on I’m going to be on guard duty. Speak before you act. That’s all I ask.”

  “I can do that.”

  The ghosts in his eyes eased a bit. “I know you can.”

  “But you don’t think it’ll be tonight?”

  He shook his head. “Not tonight. Too soon. He can’t be sure how many people are in this cabin. So he’ll have to watch. And I’m going to do my damnedest not to scare him off.”

  Kay took the shower he suggested. It was a relief to be able to get in and out on her own, unlike a bath. The heat of the beating spray helped, too, like a mini massage. Feeling looser all over than she had since Kevin had first beaten her, she dried and dressed in the clean sweat suit Clint had given her. She even managed to comb out her own hair.

  The improvement in her ability to take care of herself pleased her, and she was actually smiling when she came out of the bathroom.

  Until she realized Clint was gone. Fear gripped her hard, and she backed up against the hallway wall, as if she could press herself right into it. “Clint?”

  No answer. What now?

  She needed the tire iron. Protection. Slowly she eased down the hallway until she could see the living room. Nobody there, unless someone was hiding on the far side of the couch.

  She darted across the room as fast as she could and grabbed her weapon from the couch where it still lay. Then she backed up against the wall again, to ensure nobody could get at her from behind.

  Her heart was hammering so hard she was sure it must be audible throughout the entire cabin. She was panting audibly.

  She’d always wondered how someone who was terrified could possibly hide. Now she knew—it was impossible.

  She gripped the tire iron harder, glad of its weight in her hand. God, where was Clint?

  Then she heard the front doorknob rattle and start to turn. At once she shifted her grip, holding the iron bar at the ready in both hands. If Kevin came through that door…

  But it wasn’t Kevin. It was Clint. He stepped in, locked the door and kicked off his boots. As he was tugging off his jacket, he turned and saw her.

  For an instant they both stood locked in a frozen tableau; he astonished, she ready to kill.

  Then relief swept through her like a tsunami. The makeshift weapon clattered to the floor, and without a thought for her battered body, her natural inhibitions or anything else except that he was here, she flew across the room and launched herself into his arms.

  To her amazement, she didn’t bounce off him as if he were a brick wall. Instead he caught her and clutched her close in arms that felt like steel, the best kind of steel in the world.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I guess you didn’t hear me when I said I was going out.”

  “I thought…I thought…” She couldn’t get the words out. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, then slid her arms around his neck, pressed her face to his shoulder and hid in his strength. Don’t let me go, she thought desperately. Please, don’t let me go.

  As if he understood, he slipped his arms down until they cradled her bottom. He lifted her high against him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. If she could have, she would have melted right into him.

  “Shh,” he said, and only then did she realize she was crying softly, little hiccupping sobs.

  “Shh,” he said again.

  They moved, and the next thing she realized they were sitting on the couch, and she was still wrapped around him like a vine, straddling him and clinging.

  His hold shifted as he placed one arm securely around her back and with his other hand held her head close to his own. Cheek to cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I called to you when you were showering.”

  “I didn’t hear.” She squeezed the words out.

  “God, I’m sorry.”

  She heard real caring in his tone. Not that he hadn’t been caring before, but now there was a note of some kind of recognition. Maybe the recognition of one wounded soul for another. Maybe he’d found a way to liken the demons that drove him to the ones that drove her.

  She hardly cared what it was. It was enough that she felt the shared connection between them and knew that he felt it, as well. It had been forever since she’d felt a true connection with anyone. What she’d felt for Kevin had never approached a meeting of hearts. Never.

  She leaned against Clint, gradually relaxing into his embrace. For the first time she noticed how good he smelled: of man, soap and fresh air. Intoxicating scents to a woman who hadn’t let anyone this close in a long time without the blinding pall of fear in the middle.

  Bit by bit the tension seeped from her, and in its place came awareness of other things: his hard, muscled chest; the gentle strength of his hold; his steady breathing near her ear. The aroma of his shampoo. His warmth. How big he was, how powerful. But even that couldn’t scare her now, because all that power had devoted itself to protecting her. A godsend.

  An amazing godsend, just as she had been about to give up hope.

  Then she noticed the heat.

  A warmth where their bodies met at the loins as she straddled him. It was as if her attention took a sudden nose dive to her very center, pushing away everything else.

  Oh, man, she’d never thought she would feel this way again. Kevin had long since crushed desire out of her, or so she had thought, but here it was, as alive as ever it had been. Acute. Weakening. Demanding an answer.

  Two layers of fabric, at least, lay between them, but that only aroused her more. Made her feel safe enough to acknowledge her excitement.

  Moist heat. She was spread wide, with her legs on either side of him, and she realized even the slightest movement would brush cloth, and him, against her most sensitive flesh. She held her breath, waiting, waiting, hoping against hope to feel just the slightest brush of fabric as one of them moved. Everything inside her focused on that point of almost-contact.

  Oh, please…

  Her heart skittered, as if afraid of what she was thinking. She couldn’t. She was broken. She would only get so far before she would inevitably frustrate them both. She couldn’t do that to him. Not again.

  But, oh, how she needed to know that Kevin hadn’t utterly destroyed this part of her. Needed to feel hope. Needed Clint. Needed him the way she had needed nothing since her grandmother’s death.

  She needed him so much it was frightening.

  She gasped, drawing a breath finally. And then, hardly moving, afraid to let him know where her mind and body had wandered, because he would have every right to push her away after what she’d done before, she lowered herself the tiniest bit. Ahh!

  Just that little whisper of contact, that little brush of fabric…heaven! Enough to awaken a long-forgott
en ache.

  “Kay…” he whispered.

  No! Please. No. Don’t bring back reality. Not now. Not when she was trembling on the lip of a discovery she needed as much as she’d ever needed anything.

  His hand slid down her back. Slowly. Carefully. She bit her lip and buried her face in his neck. Hoping. Waiting. Please take me there!

  His hand reached her bottom, rested there for a few seconds, then gently, oh so gently and carefully, pressed her a tiny bit closer.

  A soft groan escaped her as she felt him hard against her, as she realized he wanted her, too. Her fear of being soiled and ugly forever went up in smoke. He didn’t feel that way about her, and he was letting her know that, letting her know she wasn’t alone in this moment of madness.

  She pressed her face even harder against his neck, signaling her yearning. Everything deep inside her throbbed now in a way she’d almost forgotten.

  She didn’t know how to do this, she realized hazily. She didn’t know how to reach out for this. She’d never been allowed to. It had always been Kevin who decided, whether she wanted it or not. She had not one bit of knowledge about how to seduce a man.

  Nor could she be completely certain she wanted to.

  But Clint seemed to understand. Somehow, as if he plucked the thoughts from her very mind, he knew.

  The hand on her bottom pushed her a little closer, and another soft groan escaped her. Had anything ever felt this good? Then, driven by an instinct she didn’t even know she had, she rocked her hips against him, just once. Just once because she needed something deeper.

  “Easy,” he whispered.

  She almost jerked back as fear spiked in her, but his hand held her close.

  “Easy,” he whispered. “Slowly. Take your time.”

  Time was the last thing she wanted to take right now. She was afraid, so afraid, that this moment would suddenly shatter in a burst of fear and self-hatred.

  For an instant she thought he was about to push her away, and horror gripped her. But before it could gain control, she realized all he had done was move her a bit. Just a little bit, so there was some space between them. Oh, Lord, he was telling her no.

  But then he surprised her. His hand slipped between them, between her legs. And with the gentlest of touches, he stroked her through the fabric. Through that layer that not only protected her but seemed to heighten the sensation to a dizzying level.

  Oh, heavens, no one had ever touched her that way before. Kevin had always been in a rush, tearing away her clothes to get at what he wanted. This was…this was…

  No words would come to her. She lost herself in feeling as Clint’s hand continued to stroke her as if she were the most delicate rose petal. Softly. Safely. The guardianship of clothing protecting her from the memories.

  Infinitely patient, ever so careful, giving but never taking. Over and over his fingers touched her lightly, until she thought she might go mad from wanting more.

  Quiet sounds began to escape her, but she felt safe enough to let them free. The hand on her bottom, the hand between her legs, offered her that freedom in a cushioned, secure place.

  Nothing he did caused memories to surface. This was entirely new, entirely different. Helplessly, she gave herself over to his touch. Letting the feelings race through her, carrying her to places she’d never been before. Even when her hips began to helplessly rock, his touch never changed, remaining gentle and sure, giving her freedom to find herself again.

  Higher she soared, discovering an unexpected joy in opening herself, in surrendering to him and the feelings he evoked.

  The ache reached a crescendo close to insanity, but his touch never deepened. Teasing, promising, caring, he took her over the top into an explosion that rocked her to her very core.

  She lay boneless and weak against him. His arms cradled her, and the kisses he brushed against her cheek told her she did not need to hide from him. Or from herself.

  Finally she found breath to whisper, “I never knew.”

  “No,” he said quietly, “I would imagine you didn’t.”

  He knew her better than she knew herself. Or maybe he just knew Kevin, as he’d said.

  But she didn’t want to think about Kevin right now, didn’t want him intruding on what suddenly seemed to her to be holy ground. She crushed him into the mists of memory, and focused on the here and now.

  On the powerful arms that held her so gently. On the big man who had just showed her that she wasn’t entirely broken, and had asked not one thing for himself. Not in her wildest imaginings could she have believed a man like Clint existed. Generous. Kind. Undemanding.

  But finally one thought wouldn’t leave her alone. One thought had to be spoken. “That was selfish of me.” She barely got the words past her lips, as shame once again tried to rear its head.

  “No,” he murmured. “Not at all. You can’t imagine the pleasure it gave me.”

  She lifted her head just enough to see his face. Something there said he wasn’t kidding. “But you…”

  “Shh,” he murmured. “Not every man gets a chance to take a woman to the stars. Especially one who thought she’d never visit them again.”

  A sigh escaped her, and she let her head fall back to his shoulder. “You took me to the stars,” she admitted. “And beyond.”

  “It’s a nice place, isn’t it?”

  “Wonderful.” Then a surprising little imp, long buried, surged in her. “What if I want to go again?”

  “I’ll gladly be your rocket ship.”

  Her strength was returning, and she pushed herself up with her hands against his shoulders. At once their loins met again, this time firmly. Oh, she liked that. “What if…?”

  He waited. Then prompted her. “What if?”

  She bit her lip and met his gaze from beneath lowered lashes. This was hard to say, but she refused to let herself out of it. She’d been running from too much for too long.

  “What if,” she said hesitantly, “I want even more?”

  A smile began to curve his lips. “Then I’d say I’d love to give it to you.”

  She almost smiled, but embarrassment overcame her, and she sought refuge again in his neck. “Really?” she asked huskily.

  “As much as you want. However you want. But I have a ground rule.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We go only where you’re comfortable, and we move slowly.”

  “You’d need the patience of a saint.”

  “I have plenty of patience. What I absolutely want to avoid is causing you to take any backward steps. You’ve already had to take enough of those in your life.”

  She thought about that, then announced, “You’re amazing.”

  “Not really.”

  “Stop it, Clint. You forget where I’ve been. I know a good man from a bad one now.”

  A long breath escaped him, and she almost thought it broke a bit. Concerned, she raised herself upright and looked straight at him. His eyes were closed, hiding his ghosts. Ghosts she wished she could rip out of him with her bare hands. “Clint?”

  “I’ll be okay.” After a moment he swallowed and opened his eyes. The ghosts were still there, but now something else had joined them. Something warm. Something that made her toes curl.

  A few more seconds passed, and then he spoke again. “But there’s something I need to do first.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’d be an idiot unworthy of your trust if I didn’t take a look outside. It’s been an hour.”

  That long? Fear slammed her again. “But you said it should be several days.”

  “It should be, and it probably will be. But that doesn’t mean I can act on that judgment. There’s always the astounding chance I could be wrong.”

  Despite the return of her fear, she had to smile. He was poking fun at himself, and she liked that. “What if I don’t want to let you go?”

  “Sorry, lady.” Then, with that amazing ease, he lifted her off his lap onto the couch. “Fir
st things first. If you haven’t changed your mind by the time I get back, we can explore the rocket ship further.”

  Before he left, he gave her the tire iron again. “Lock the door after me.”

  Outside, Clint took a few deep breaths of cleansing air. Not because he needed to wash the scent of Kay out of his nostrils, but because he needed to focus single-mindedly on his own prey—Kevin.

  The trust Kay had just given him had wrenched those internal cracks even wider; they were beyond hope of cement now. Forever after, even if she left in a few days, those cracks would be filled by Kay.

  And he couldn’t exactly regret it. The return of feelings other than self-damnation was painful, but it was also good. Maybe he could change.

  But first things first, as he’d said. In the garage he had a pair of infrared binoculars. Not the souped-up fancy kind, because he had never needed them, but a basic pair. Just enough to tell him if there was any heat around the tree line.

  But first he walked around the house, pretending to check things while keeping an eye out for any movement. He tested the breeze with his nose, like an animal. Years back he’d learned the importance of smells. Your enemy might be on a different diet, which would make him smell different. And in an area like this, which should be empty of anything but animals, even the merest wisp of a human scent of any kind would be important. Nothing.

  He’d cleared the trees back nearly a hundred yards from the house. Not that he disliked trees, but inbred caution from many years on the dangerous side had made it impossible for him to leave cover so close to his home.

  As he returned to the garage and picked up the infrared binoculars, he was glad he had been so compulsive. If anything had approached the house tonight, he would be able to tell.

  He caught some faint heat signatures from the woods but was pretty sure they were animals. With his regular binoculars he scanned the snow all around and saw no sign of footprints. If Kevin had been watching the place earlier, he hadn’t approached the house.

  But the absence of sign didn’t mean Kevin hadn’t been there during the daylight hours to watch. In fact, given what he suspected, he would be willing to bet the man would do his scouting when it was warm—or at least warmer—and clear, even though he would probably save his attack for the middle of the night.