He turned and handed her a towel. “The shower is through there. I’ll leave you a set of clean clothes outside the door. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.” She was always starving these days but couldn’t afford to eat as much as she wanted. Luckily, meals came as part of her job and that helped, but she’d dropped the extra weight she’d carried from indulging her sweet tooth.
“Coffee?”
“Do you have tea?”
“Yeah, I think so. Emma and Cassie have been drinking tea lately.”
He turned away and disappeared through another inner door. Emma and Cassie? Did he have a wife and daughter? Her mind railed at the idea, and impatient with herself, she strode through the first door. She set her daypack right next to the shower cubicle where she could grab it if necessary. No way did she intend to lose the sole possessions she’d retained after the ransacking of her room.
The shower was no-frills basic, but the water was hot and she stepped under the pounding flow with gratitude. After leaving the hostel, she’d managed a quick flannel wash at work, but it wasn’t the same as a shower. She helped herself to his soap and rubbed it over her skin to release a lemon fragrance. Jessalyn washed her hair too, sneaking a smidge of his shampoo. More of the citrus aroma filled the steamy shower. Aware of the passing time and her vulnerability in this naked state, she rushed through rinsing.
Once she’d dried herself, she cracked open the door. The clothing he’d promised sat in a neat pile on the spotless floor. She scooped them up and noted he’d included a pair of boxer shorts. Dressed in the black T-shirt and matching black sweatpants, she made quick work of rinsing her bra and panties and placing them on the towel rail to dry. Her T-shirt was only fit for the trash, but her jeans were still wearable.
With her daypack in hand, she went in search of the man. Hopefully, he’d donned clothes because staring at his naked body was doing peculiar things to her libido while her traitorous hands craved physical contact.
“I’m in here,” he called.
The man had the hearing of a bat. She frowned and turned in that direction. To her relief and disappointment—bizarre, contrary emotions—he’d dressed in casual clothes. His feet were bare, and she found herself staring at them.
“I’m putting on a load of washing. I can toss your clothes in too.”
“Thanks, I’ll get them.” She ripped her gaze off his long feet—who knew feet were sexy?—and retrieved her underwear along with her jeans and towel. “What is your name?” she asked on her return.
“Manu Taniwha,” he said. “I’ve got beans on toast. That okay?”
She hovered, uneasy yet having few alternatives. Manu had already shown his strength and quick thinking. No one knows where you are. “Not helping,” she muttered.
“What isn’t helping?”
She scowled at him. “Your eavesdropping on private conversations.”
“Often talk to yourself? It’s a sign of madness, you know.”
“As if I haven’t already demonstrated I’m square in the middle of cuckoo land,” she snapped. “Well, do you intend to feed me or not?”
Jessalyn groaned inwardly. She suffered from a broken filter too, or she’d never have offered him lip and rudeness. To her relief, he chuckled and strolled past her. She waited for a beat before following. Much safer since the unconventional inclination to lick his arm had her tongue tingling. Now if she went ahead with the impulse and ran her tongue down his strong neck that would truly paint her as abnormal.
“Take a seat,” Manu said gesturing at the small white table with two chairs.
“What is this place?” Everything was so clean, so neat. In contrast, her father’s workshop was chaos, but it was hard to keep the place spotless with wood shavings flying everywhere.
“If I work late, I stay the night.”
Jessalyn scanned the area visible through the inner door as she placed her daypack between her feet. Her surroundings didn’t give her a clue. “What do you do?”
He hesitated before saying, “I design equipment for manufacturers.”
Which made her none the wiser.
He bustled around the tiny kitchen area, opening two cans of baked beans and dumping them in a bowl. After setting the microwave going, he pulled a toaster out of a cupboard and popped down four slices of bread. The man moved with grace and economy, taking mugs from a cupboard. It was like watching her own personal ballet performance. His body floated from toaster to kettle to microwave.
“Stop staring.”
Jessalyn started. “You really have eyes in the back of your head.”
“And excellent peripheral vision.”
Unaccustomed heat surged into her cheeks. “Now you’re staring.”
“I’m wondering what to do with you.”
“Nothing.” Jessalyn bolted to her feet. “If you’re not willing to share your info, I’ll leave now, and you can forget you ever saw me.”
He turned with a teapot and a bottle of milk in hand and set them on the table. “Sit.”
It was an order, and Jessalyn’s butt hit the chair again before she’d issued the command to her brain.
“Eat.” He set a plate bearing a generous serving in front of her.
Smoky, savory beans and the aroma of hot buttered toast decided her. “I could eat before I leave.”
A laugh escaped him as he joined her at the table. “My brothers sometimes stay here overnight. I put up one of their stretcher beds for you. Won’t that be better than sleeping rough?”
“Who says I don’t have a place?”
“My nose,” he said, his brown eyes meeting hers.
Heat filled her face. She hadn’t reeked that bad. Had she? “How do I know you won’t try to rape me? I mean, who offers a stranger a bed for the night?”
“A decent one,” Manu said in an even voice. “What kind of man would I be if I let you leave to light more fires?”
A different fear writhed through Jessalyn. “Are you turning me into the cops?”
“Not yet,” he said.
Which meant he might change his mind. She picked up her mug of tea and sipped while trying to decide the best course of action. “All right.” She’d agree with him, and once he’d fallen asleep, she’d sneak away.
“Don’t creep out during the early hours of the morning. I’m a light sleeper and will hear you.”
The bossy man was a mind reader too. What flaws didn’t he have? “You can’t keep me here. I have to work tomorrow.”
His lips pressed together, and stupidly, she gaped at him, his sensual mouth. A shiver worked through her and this time heat flowed from her face, down her neck to sink into her breasts. The sensation made her nipples itch, and she struggled to remain still.
“I need my job,” she added, her tone fierce to expel this unwanted warmth from her mind and body. An afterthought occurred, and she gave an experimental cough.
“No, you don’t.” He jumped to his feet, moving so quickly she found herself propelled halfway to the outer door before she registered a protest.
“No. Stop. I won’t breathe fire.”
He turned her to face him. His black brows squeezed together in doubt. “Are you sure?”
“You don’t even seem surprised by me shooting fire like a flame thrower.” She cocked her head. “Have you seen someone do this before? I don’t do drugs. You can tell that, right?”
“Full of questions, aren’t you, wee one?”
Jessalyn snorted. No one had ever categorized her as small before, but she supposed she was when compared to his height and breadth. “You’re not behaving like most people would, given the crazy circumstances.”
“I’m in shock,” he said. “Either that or it was the beers I drank earlier with my friends.”
“You have friends?” she retorted.
“Surprisingly, yes.” His words emerged clipped, and the amusement melted from his face.
She’d irked him with that last comment. “Sorry.”
“
Eat your meal. Drink your tea. Let me think.”
She snorted. “Can’t you multitask?”
“No. I’m a male.”
Jessalyn fell silent, letting him have the last word because that edgy heat had sprung to life again, frisking her body. Compelling her to squirm.
“What’s wrong?”
She froze at the realization the wriggling hadn’t been solely in her mind. “Nothing.” In lieu of an explanation, because that would be mortifying, she concentrated on eating. The first mouthful of beans—ambrosia. She barely contained her moan of pleasure. Forcing herself not to shovel in the food or give him a greedy pig impression, she sipped her tea. Real tea.
“You use tea leaves.”
“Is that a problem?” That impassive face again.
It was driving her crazy when she normally had no trouble reading people. She bet he was a hell of a poker player. “The tea is perfect.”
“Cassie and Emma said it was the good stuff.”
“Who are Cassie and Emma?” She eyed him, waiting, equal parts curious and jealous of these unknown women.
“Cassie is my cousin’s wife. Emma is married to our friend.”
Intense relief had her sipping more tea in case betraying words spurted free. In this case, she’d prefer to breathe fire rather than humiliate herself by expressing honesty. And her thoughts were kind of whacked. This man was holding her prisoner. He’d witnessed her breathing flames—starting a fire on his property, and he had done nothing except feed her. Unless…
“Did you call the cops while I was in the shower? Is this my last meal before I get locked up?” She spoke faster and faster until at the end, her words ran into each other. Breathless, she gasped for oxygen. “Did you—?”
Manu barked out an unexpected laugh that halted her tirade. “You’re winding yourself up to a panic attack.”
“What are you intending to do with me?”
His expression blanked, and apart from a brief golden flash in his eyes, she was none the wiser.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Oh. Well, it’s normal for people to go around breathing fire. They do in all the superhero books I read. I watched a movie a few weeks ago.” What was wrong with her? She didn’t run off at the mouth as a rule. “Fire,” she said. “Lots of thunderbolts and flame-throwing. You should keep that in mind. Just saying.” Jessalyn forked beans into her mouth and chewed thoroughly. It seemed the best way to halt her chatter.
Manu finished his meal and stood. “I’ll check on the washing.”
“Okay.” Jessalyn popped the last corner of toast into her mouth. The meal had hit the spot and settled her churning stomach. Next, she required a plan because now that he had learned she puked fire, he couldn’t ignore his discovery. A sensible person would’ve called the cops already.
A yawn popped free. This fire-breathing act was exhausting.
“The stretcher bed is in the main area. I’ve left a sleeping bag on top for you, although I doubt you’ll need it.”
“Thanks.” Another yawn strained her jaw. “I might grab some sleep now. What time is it, anyhow?”
He checked his phone. “9:45.”
Nerves hovered in her gut again. The uncertainty gnawed at her. She’d get a few hours sleep and attempt to creep away once she’d recharged her batteries. The truth—if this were a movie, she’d be shouting at the character to escape. Danger lurked ahead. Ignore those crazy yearnings to trust him, and whatever you do, don’t like him! He owed her nothing, and that was what she should expect. Nothing but trouble.
So now she had her plan.
Escape and worry about her mental state later, because really, outside of a comic strip or an associated movie, who’d ever heard of a woman who breathed fire? No such thing.
Reassured by her plan, she placed her daypack close to hand and stretched out to rest. Yeah, the fires were her imagination. She refused to dwell on the physical proof and the damage she’d caused because that way lay real nightmares.
Manu attempted to concentrate on the plans laid out on his desk, but every one of his senses remained attuned to the woman. His mate. The woman who didn’t understand she was a dragon. Leader Manu understood what they required of him. A quick mercy killing for the greater good.
Manu, the man…
He dragged his hand through his hair. What the hell should he do with her? While the obvious thing would be to tell her, what if she had a brain fart and spouted off to the press? By starting fires everywhere, she’d already placed his people in danger. Taniwha law was clear on this. Humans were not ready to welcome others. They had a difficult enough time embracing different nationalities, let alone species with powers humans might conceive as dangerous.
His mother…
Manu did another hand-run through his hair. June Taniwha wouldn’t have hesitated. On discovering Jessalyn, she would’ve acted to keep the tribe safe. Manu’s taniwha whined like a buzz-saw and his disapproval echoed through his brain.
Jessalyn McKenzie was their mate—the exact fit for them.
It had been bad enough killing his mother. The repercussions were ongoing, causing turbulence amongst the tribe. Executing a mate and destroying his chance of future happiness would annihilate him.
He picked up his cellphone to call Hone and put it down again. Emma was having her baby, and Hone would be with Jack, keeping him calm. Instead, he rang his brother next to him in age. Tane’s phone went to voicemail. He tried Kahurangi next. No reply. Looked as if he was on his own for tonight.
Unable to focus on work, he did an internet search. He typed in her name and the search came up with nothing. Was Jessalyn even her name? She hadn’t hesitated when he’d demanded the detail. Something to remember. She might be his mate, but he couldn’t trust her.
Reaching out to other tribes might be the next step, but he hesitated to do this and leave himself open to nosy questions as to why he desired information on this woman. No, he’d speak to Hone in the morning. Aware of the passing time, he gave in to his desire to check on Jessalyn. He padded out of his cubicle office without turning on the lights. The stretcher bed was empty. He scowled. The woman had done a runner already. Then, the toilet flushed, and the tension leached from his shoulders. He retreated and watched her return to the stretcher bed. Another taniwha would be aware of his presence and sense he lurked in the office.
She gave off none of these vibes, merely turning on her side and falling back to sleep as evidenced by her even breathing.
Who was this woman?
Manu prowled into the separate cubicle he’d claimed as his makeshift bedroom. He peeled off his clothes and stretched out on the bed. With no fresh ideas about what to do with Jessalyn, he fell asleep.
Jessalyn wasn’t sure of the time when she awoke, but pitch-black greeted her eyes. Cautiously, she sat up and blinked, hoping to accustom herself to the inky darkness. It helped a little. Fumbling, she located her shoes and slid them onto her feet. Commonsense had demanded she sleep in her clothes, so she was ready to escape. With her daypack in hand, she crept across the warehouse to get to the side door.
Before she got there, she kicked something. A can? It skittered across the concrete floor, doing a rat-a-tat dance to announce its presence.
“Damn and blast,” she whispered.
With her next step, she kicked another can. The lights switched on suddenly. Jessalyn blinked rapidly and scowled at the strategically placed cans sitting on the floor between her and freedom. An old-fashion alarm system that had worked perfectly.
Manu appeared in naked splendor. He folded his beefy arms across his most splendid chest. Not that she was looking. His dark brows rose, making her imagine question marks and his eyes held a you-explain-this gleam. “Going somewhere?”
“To the restroom,” she said promptly.
“It’s that way. Did you get turned around in the dark?”
Jessalyn wheeled sharply and kicked at a can. Ow, ow, ow! She limped a few steps and ignored his
laughter. “I have to go to work tomorrow. You can’t keep me captive. My boss is expecting me on time. I’m a punctual and responsible employee.”
“I’ll drive you,” he said. “Get some sleep. You don’t want to spoil your excellent record.”
She muttered a rude word, and the man chortled. An honest-to-goodness chortle that had her face flaming and her hands bunching to fists. Before the light switched off, she scanned the cans and memorized their placement.
“Don’t even try to attempt a second escape. I’ll be sleeping by the door. If you stumble into my bed, I’ll assume you’re extending an invitation.”
Jessalyn’s gaze darted to Manu, and it was hard to miss the satisfaction on his sensual lips. Her fingers itched to slap the grin right away, and his mouth stretched wider, the smile broader as if he’d plucked her thoughts straight from her mind.
She stomped to her bed and lay down, pulling her sleeping bag over her head even though it was too hot to sleep with a covering. Thankfully, the lights flickered out soon after and she shoved the cover away, her mind stewing over how to escape this determined man.
Why hadn’t he turned her into the cops?
That was the question begging an answer. If she stood in his shoes and she’d found someone burning down her property, she’d act steamed. There’d been anger—yes—but Manu had assessed her with a thoroughness that had left her edgy and aware of her femininity.
What if…
What if he was a weirdo intent on keeping her locked up as a sex slave?
No. She pushed the thought aside as ludicrous since she didn’t get the creep factor from him.
She’d bide her time and escape his clutches once he let down his guard. When she received her pay tomorrow, she’d buy medicine to settle her stomach and find somewhere else to stay. Her life would return to normal, and she could focus on saving enough money to keep paying the mortgage. This weird illness couldn’t last for much longer.
She couldn’t be that unlucky.
Black Moon Dragon Page 5