Minutes later he re-entered the room, instantly finding Elizabeth in a defensive position in front of Cassie as the door opened. He set the large tote he carried on the floor then went back out. When he returned with his own bag and the food and coffee, she was sitting at the end of Cassie’s bed, watching the door.
“There are gowns, clothes and stuff in the tote.” He set the fast food bags on the small table. “I’ve bought stuff here and there as I realized everything was being destroyed from place to place. You should have everything you need.”
He saw her startled look as she glanced at the hard plastic container.
“I need a fast shower.” He pulled his service revolver from the personal bag he carried on his shoulder. “If anyone comes to the door, let me know. Otherwise, there’s food and coffee in the bag. Plenty enough for everyone.”
He didn’t expect a response. He didn’t get one. She just stared up at him with those big sad eyes, so much like Cassie’s, as though she couldn’t decide if she were still dreaming or awake.
Dash ached to hold her. He couldn’t stop the need, so he didn’t fight it building in his body, but he kept his arms, his thoughts, and his needs to himself. He had a lot of practice at that. Knew just how it was done. Control. That was all it took. But those shell-shocked eyes did something to him that made his guts tremble with an ache so unfamiliar, so imperative, it was damned hard to fight.
Her eyes went to the gun as he stood there. An uncontrollable flare of fear flashed in her gaze. He couldn’t blame her for it. But he hated it.
“I’ll be out in a bit.” He had to get away from her. If he didn’t, he was going to touch her. If he touched her, stopping would be hell. And he would have to stop. Now was not the time or the place.
He turned the television on as he passed it—the steady noise would keep her nerves calm, he hoped—then moved into the bathroom. If he didn’t get a shower and settle his own libido down, he was going to go stark raving mad. His cock was waging a constant war with his head. It was hard, aching, needing her. Just a taste of her.
Damn, the woman’s scent had been like a call to arms to his dick. It hadn’t relaxed in the miserable hours of being confined in the Hummer with her. It was still steel-hard and insistent. Not exactly a condition he found any comfort in. It wasn’t as though Elizabeth was even in any shape to realize it. And if she did, it was the wrong place and the wrong time. First, came Cassie’s safety. Then he could claim the mother.
He shook his head as he entered the small bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving it unsecured. He stared down at the lock and sighed wearily. Building trust was a bitch.
* * * * *
Elizabeth opened the lid to the tote slowly, sinking to her knees and staring down at the contents in surprise. The clothes were all new. Some designer labels, some not. All were functional and would be easily cleaned, a must for an eight-year-old child. Stacked within the tote were clothes for her as well. She flushed as she pulled a pair of lacy thongs from the neatly folded contents. They were her size, but so delicate and sexy she would have blushed to wear them.
There were nightgowns and robes for her and Cassie, socks and dependable shoes still in their boxes. She pulled a dark blue, little girl’s gown free. It was long, cotton, with long sleeves and a lacy collar. There was a robe to match it. Several packages of little girl’s panties and socks, unopened.
Next, she pulled one of the gowns and robes he had bought for her out. A smile tugged at her lips. It was flannel and long, with a robe to match. Something to keep her warm. With it was a pair of thick, padded socks. Had the man forgotten anything?
She shook her head in confusion, wondering when reality had ceased to exist. From one minute to the next she had gone from pure terror to a sense of tentative hope. Surely if he was going to turn her and Cassie over to Grange, he would have done so by now.
But could she really trust her own instincts? She rose to her feet, hearing the water cascading in the other room. Elizabeth swallowed tightly. God, she wanted to trust him, but fear was like a demon riding her mercilessly. The gun and the Hummer would get her closer to her own destination.
She looked at the clothes again, touched the soft gowns and wanted to scream out in fury. She couldn’t trust, no matter how desperately she wanted to. No matter how her soul screamed out in protest, she had to get Cassie away from this new, possibly unknown threat.
The sound of the shower was loud, the pipes groaning. She hadn’t heard the lock click in place and she was desperate. She stood and moved for the door.
Stilling the tremors of exhaustion and nerves that wanted to shudder through her body wasn’t easy. She hated the thought of betraying the only person left to stand between her and her enemies, but she couldn’t bear the thought that she was wrong once again, either.
As she neared the bathroom door, she thought of the others she had trusted. Admittedly, there hadn’t been many. There was the police investigator in Arizona. She hoped he was living well on the little payoff he must have taken to reveal her location. On the other hand, she remembered too well the news report of the death of the auto mechanic who had helped her escape after repairing her car. He was dead. Because of her.
Her hand gripped the doorknob, turning it slowly, quietly. He couldn’t take the gun into the shower with him; it would have to be lying within reach. She inched the door open, slowly, carefully…
Dash leaned his head against the wall of the shower stall, grimacing almost painfully. Don’t, baby. Please don’t. The words whispered through his mind as Elizabeth’s scent stirred the air around him. Even his balls tightened at the smell. Female, sensually warm, determined, frightened. Her fear made his heart ache. Her warmth made his cock jerk demandingly. There was nothing about her that didn’t make him hot and hungry.
Steam collected in misty tendrils, wrapping the smell of her around his senses, driving a bolt of hunger through the pit of his stomach straight to his throbbing erection. He could see her in his mind’s eye, focused, steeling herself against her fear as she moved into the small room.
Trust was essential, he reminded himself firmly. She had to know he could protect them, that he would protect them. She had to know he was strong enough, confident enough, to even stop her if he had to. But once he confronted her, would he have the strength not to touch her?
Don’t do it, Elizabeth. He clenched his teeth as the whisper of her slight body moving past the doorframe had him tensing expectantly. Leave! Don’t let me touch you! If he did, he would never stop. One taste could never be enough. She would be a banquet to his senses, a feast of erotic delicacies. But only if she trusted him. Only if she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he was there for her and Cassie. Not for their enemies.
Building trust was a bitch, he reminded himself. Better to get it started and get it over with now. He couldn’t help her if he had to guard against her as well as the men hunting her. If he could get past this initial surge of defiance, then they had a chance.
The defiance was tempting the animal he fought to keep contained. The one that knew this was his mate. Knew this woman was everything he had searched for in his life. Keeping it contained was a battle he knew would erode quickly. Already, within hours of finding her, there was little he could think about except sinking into the warmth and heat between her thighs. Drowning in the hot depths of her cunt as she tightened around him. Never, at any time in his life, had a woman affected him quite this way.
He let her move into the room. He felt the hot water pelting his skin, smelled her scent growing closer, tracked her with every sense he possessed as she moved steadily to the gun and the keys that lay on the shelf above the toilet.
Her steps were light. Damn, she would make a perfect mate. The thought shocked him, but he realized the truth of it instantly. She was light and steady, resolved in her course of action and making almost no sound as she went for the weapon. She would fight beside him, no matter the battle, physical or emotional. If her heart were committed, then it would be as fierce as any she-wolf’s. She was a bundle of dynamite; destructive to the enemy, life-giving to those she loved. But right now, until she knew if he were friend or foe, she would always suspect enemy first. She would always defy him. He couldn’t allow that.