by Amelia Elias
She barely heard him. All she could think of was the one picture she had of her parents, her mother’s wedding rings. It was all she had left of a family now gone.
“Sian!” Diego snapped, shaking her a little. “You can’t run in there blind!”
Her rage eased a little but Sian still burned with it as she forced herself to stop fighting. He was right, much as she hated to admit it. She had no weapon and no plan. She didn’t even know for sure whoever had broken down her door was gone. It was suicide to rush in.
“All right,” she forced out, hardly recognizing her own voice as she wrestled herself back under control. “All right, you can let go of me now.”
Diego loosened his grip but didn’t release her completely. He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up until she met his gaze. The sympathy and understanding she read there stunned her. She never would have thought her captor would show such feeling. In that moment, she wished she could trust his promise that he had nothing to do with Santonyo.
But why else would he hold her prisoner like this?
“I’ll make sure it’s safe for you,” Diego told her softly. “Will you wait for me here, at least until I can bring you some shoes? There’s broken glass all over the place in there.”
His gentleness disarmed her and she nodded silently. Her feet had been abused enough for one night. Diego gazed down at her for another moment, his fingers warm against her cheek, before nodding back at her. “I won’t be long.”
Diego left her on the landing and stepped through the shattered door, silently cursing whoever had done this. The impact of Sian’s anger and pain still echoed through him and he burned with the desire for blood. No one hurt his mate and lived.
It took only a moment to confirm the apartment was empty. Diego walked carefully through the rooms, his rage building with every step. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture left intact. Her couch had been smashed to kindling, her television shattered against the wall, her bookshelves in pieces and the books shredded. Her bed was wrecked. The mattress lay half on the floor, long gashes torn through the pillowtop and stuffing strewn everywhere. Every mirror was shattered, her dresser broken and her clothes torn to shreds. He looked for a pair of shoes for her even though he had no intention of bringing her in to witness this destruction, but even those had not been spared.
Only the paintings on the walls had escaped destruction. Diego looked carefully at them as he walked slowly through her rooms. He didn’t need to read the small signature in the corner to know Sian had created them. Her touch still brought a lingering radiance to the canvases. The seascapes were incredibly realistic, almost eerie. It took a moment before he noticed what had been done to them.
In every painting a black figure had been added, scrawled in marker. A body lying on the beach, another tumbling from a cliff, one hanging from a noose from the top of a lighthouse. Every painting had been desecrated by the crude renderings of death.
A soft sound behind him made Diego whirl, fangs and claws out, ready for battle. He reined in his rage quickly when he saw Sian standing in the doorway with her hands pressed to her mouth. He crossed the devastation and took her arms, trying to steer her back outside. “You said you were going to wait for me,” he told her, keeping the bite from his voice with difficulty.
The shock in her eyes killed his frustration with her at once. “My God,” she breathed, staring in shock at the fractured remains of what had been her home. Her gaze fell on a painting of a sailboat and she paled when she saw what had been added to it. “My God.”
Diego scooped her up in his arms, remembering the glass on the floor from the shattered mirrors. “It’s time to go, Sian. There’s nothing left here,” he told her gently.
She pushed at his shoulders, trying to get away. “I have to get my things,” she said, her voice no more than a stunned whisper.
“Querida, there’s nothing left,” Diego repeated, pulling her closer and wishing he could soothe her. “Whoever did this destroyed everything. I’ll buy you more clothes—”
“No, I don’t care about my damn clothes!” she exploded at him. “I had a picture of my parents, my mother’s rings…” Her eyes beseeched him. “They can’t have taken them!”
He rocked her gently. “All right,” he murmured. “All right, querida, I’ll look for those things. Tell me where they were.”
“My bedroom. On the bedside table.”
He felt a dangerous surge of anger at the thought of her witnessing what they’d done to her room, the violence unleashed on her bed, and tamped it down. She didn’t need to see him in the grip of bloodlust right now. She was frightened enough of him as it was and didn’t need anything else added on top of this trauma.
“I’ll look,” he said, turning toward the door again. “Wait for me in the car, Sian. You have no shoes, your feet would be cut to ribbons in moments in there.”
“No,” Sian said, and he wasn’t surprised. “I want to see what they did. I need to see if there are any clues. They will have left me some clues.”
He froze where he stood. “You know who did this, don’t you?”
She looked away. “Put me down.”
“Not a chance,” Diego growled. “Who did this?”
A muscle twitched in her jaw but she remained stubbornly silent. Diego knew she wouldn’t tell him until she was good and ready, and he burned with frustration. “Fine, keep it a secret. You’re still not going in there.”
Sian couldn’t argue her way around him, though she tried. In the end Diego deposited her on the landing again and went into her bedroom by himself. She couldn’t make herself stop looking at what they’d done to her living room. This had been no robbery, no random act of destruction. Whoever had been here had taken their sweet time. Her gaze kept going back to her paintings, pristine but for the black bodies they’d added, and a shudder worked its way down her spine.
Slowly her shock turned to anger. Santonyo must’ve done this. He’d left similar calling cards at her other residences, but never with this ferocity. What would it take for him to leave her alone? Her fists clenched and she wished she’d been here when they’d arrived. Up until James had taken it, Sian hadn’t been without her gun once since moving in here six months ago, and she knew she wouldn’t have hesitated to use it.
Her pulse kicked at the thought of putting a bullet into the man who had tormented her for years. Was that what it would take to finally get some peace? She was tired of running, tired of being hunted.
When Diego emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, the surge of relief she felt to see him made her angry again, this time at herself. She didn’t know this man from Adam. She didn’t think he had anything to do with this, but he was still holding her hostage for some strange reasons of his own, and there was no reason at all she should be glad to see him.
“Find anything?” she asked to hide her own turmoil.
He was at her side almost at once and she jumped. She’d never seen anyone move so fast. “I didn’t find any photographs,” he said. “I’m sorry. If it’s in there, they destroyed it.”
Sian felt sick. That picture had been the only one she had ever seen of her mother and the last one she possessed of her father. “And the rings?” she forced out through numb lips.
Rather than answering, Diego held out his hand. She looked down and saw her mother’s rings there in his palm. Tears of relief blurred her vision. Only when she blinked the moisture away did she notice what had been done to them.
Only when she picked them up did she see the gold bands were twisted out of shape and none of the stones remained in their settings. She clutched the broken rings to her chest and bent her head, not wanting a stranger to witness her tears.
She didn’t expect to feel comforted when he put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, querida,” he murmured, holding her tight. “I can have them repaired for you, but I know it’s not the same.”
She didn’t speak, just stood there in the circle of his arms, tryi
ng not to cry. She hated to cry. Only weaklings cried and winners never showed weakness. It was a rule she’d learned in the cradle, but damn it, it felt like her heart had been ripped out.
At last Diego urged her down the stairs again and Sian let him, slipping the mutilated rings into the breast pocket of the shirt and feeling hollow inside. She needed to get away from Diego and run again, but where could she go now? How could any place be safe ever again?
Diego stopped and tilted her face up with a gentle hand until she met his gaze. “You don’t have to run anymore,” he said softly. “Believe it, Sian. I can keep you safe.”
She stared at him, unable to shake the strange certainty that he’d read her mind again. It was insane to even consider it, but how else could he have known what she was thinking? She opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to say, when the sense of danger hit her with such force, every other thought in her mind was swept away.
“Get down!” Sian yelled, grabbing Diego and yanking him to the pavement. His weight drove the breath from her lungs a bare heartbeat before her beloved Mini Cooper exploded. Heat washed over her and something heavy drove into the wall beside her head, but before Sian could even take a breath, Diego leapt to his feet and pulled her swiftly down the alley. “What are you doing?” she gasped, trying her best to keep up with him.
“Getting you out of here. They’ll be here soon if they’re not already,” Diego said. She stumbled and he scooped her into his arms without breaking stride.
Her heart froze at the thought of him getting hurt because of her. “Put me down!” she demanded. Santonyo’s thugs wouldn’t take another innocent life on her account, no matter what she thought of Diego personally. “Let go of me!”
He didn’t even bother replying as he ran with a speed that made her head spin. If she’d thought he moved fast in the apartment it was nothing compared to this. Four blocks later he finally slowed, ducking into a dark doorway with her and pinning her to the wall so they looked like they were making out in the shadows instead of hiding. “Do you feel anything?” he asked, looking down at her urgently and not out of breath at all.
She was suddenly out of breath enough for both of them.
She felt something, all right, and it had nothing to do with any possible pursuit. Her nerves jangled with a purely feminine reaction to being trapped between a cold wall and his hot and completely male body. The adrenaline rush from the danger and his incredible speed morphed into desire in the space of a heartbeat. She couldn’t take a breath without pressing more fully against him. Her hands were trapped between them, fingers splayed wide against his chest, and she felt his heart beating beneath her palm. His arms tightened around her and she wished suddenly they weren’t pretending.
Belatedly she remembered his question and realized he knew she’d had a premonition. She stared up at him in shock, hardly able to believe his instant acceptance of a gift no one outside her family had ever believed in. She took a deep breath that was scented of him and closed her eyes, trying to block out the distraction he presented and concentrate on what her instincts were telling her.
“No,” she whispered at last, opening her eyes again. “I think we’re safe.”
“Good.”
His mouth came down, taking hers with such heat and hunger that she couldn’t hold back a moan. He growled and tangled his fingers in her hair, nipping her lower lip until she opened for him. His tongue claimed hers as her arms went around his waist. Heat pooled low in her belly and she felt his arousal pressing against her. He pulled her hard against him as he took her apart piece by piece, each stroke of his tongue sending sparks through her, every nip of his teeth making her shiver. Never had anyone kissed her like this. His mouth was fierce and possessive and he drew a passion from her she’d never suspected she was capable of, and he showed no sign of stopping. He kissed her again and again—long, drugging kisses that stole her breath and her will to resist.
Sian had no idea how much time passed before Diego tore himself away, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder and breathing every bit as hard as she was.
“Dios, querida, you make me forget where I am.” He breathed against her skin, sending a shiver through her when he nipped the side of her throat with teeth that felt much too sharp.
Sanity returned with a crash. She struggled out of his arms and pushed him away, shaking hard. How could she have let a complete stranger kiss her like that? How could she have reacted so wildly, as if she had no inhibitions at all?
“It was the danger,” she said, pushing her hair back from her face and wishing her cheeks didn’t feel quite so hot. Wishing her entire body didn’t feel quite so hot. “It didn’t mean anything. It was just because we almost died, that’s all.”
Diego stared at her, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the street behind them, his face shadowed, masking his expression. “Is that what you think it was?” he asked, his voice low and vibrating with suppressed emotion. It sent another shiver through her. “You think that was some meaningless reaction to what happened?”
“Yes!” Sian cried, wrapping her arms around herself. She wondered which one of them she was trying to convince. “That’s all it was!”
He was silent for a moment and she knew she’d made him angry but she didn’t care. “Fine,” he snapped at last. He turned his back on her and gazed up and down the street before stepping out of the alcove and raising his arm. Sian stared stupidly at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he was doing, before a taxi stopped in front of him. He glared over his shoulder at her as he yanked open the door. “Coming?”
She wanted to say no, but she wasn’t crazy enough to think staying half-dressed and alone downtown in the middle of the night was any better of an idea than going with him. She hurried after him, sliding into the taxi and slamming the door as the driver pulled away from the curb.
Diego gave the driver his address and sat back with his arms crossed, staying as far from Sian as the seat allowed. His fists clenched against the volatile emotions buffeting him. He burned with fury at what had been done to her home, with desire so potent he could hardly contain it, with frustration that she wouldn’t tell him who was after her, and yes, with hurt that Sian had so coolly dismissed what had started between them. She was his mate, damn it, and for a few glorious minutes in that dark doorway she’d forgotten her distrust of him and acted like it.
He could have kicked himself for pulling away. It hadn’t been the most romantic spot in the world but he knew that if he hadn’t stopped kissing her when he had, he would be buried deep inside her right now. Sweet heaven, he ached for her. It wasn’t their close call that made him kiss her, no matter what she told herself. He’d had thousands of close calls before this and hadn’t fallen on the nearest female like a ravenous beast.
It was her. Sian. She’d looked lost, sexy, and vulnerable there in his arms and he’d wanted her so damn bad, he hadn’t thought twice about their surroundings or the danger or anything else. All he’d known was he had to kiss her or lose his mind.
And he’d kissed her and promptly lost his mind anyway.
He didn’t dare even look at her right now. Desire pounded through him with every heartbeat. He stared blankly out the window, trying to shut out the sound of her breathing and the faint trace of her soft scent in the nicotine-tinged air of the cab. How dare she tell him it hadn’t meant anything?
When they pulled up in front of his gates, Diego reached for his wallet only to remember it was still in the pocket of the jacket still tied around Sian’s waist. She jumped when he reached for her and he scowled. “I’m getting my wallet, not assaulting you,” he bit out.
She blushed but didn’t say a word as he dug it out of a pocket and handed the driver a credit card. She was out of the car by the time he’d signed the slip and Diego slammed the door behind him after getting out. The gates swung open at his mental command and he brushed past her, heading for the house without a word and angry enough in that moment not to
care if she followed him or not.
That anger died when he finally gave in to the urge to glance back a few minutes later and saw Sian limping along the gravel road several yards behind him. He’d forgotten she was still barefoot. “Why didn’t you say something?” he demanded, striding to her side and reaching for her.
She batted his hand away. “With you glaring out the window the whole way here like I’d just drowned your favorite pet, why do you think?”
Diego started to scowl at her again and caught himself. No matter how much right he had to be angry, nothing good could come from glaring at her. “All right, truce until we reach the house if you let me carry you,” he said, keeping the anger in his voice to a bare minimum with an effort. “You won’t get there until morning if you don’t get a move on and I’m getting a little tired of healing you.” It was a lie, but he was willing to try anything to get her back into his arms at this point.
She crossed her arms and leveled a glare of her own at him. “What makes you think getting hauled around by a caveman is preferable to walking on sharp rocks?”
That was it. Diego scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her outraged shriek of surprise, and set off down the drive. She pounded on his back with her fists, unerringly hitting his kidneys with every blow. “Let me go!”
He ground his teeth. “Don’t call me a caveman unless you want me to start acting like one,” he growled back at her.
“Look, I’m sorry I wounded your male pride or your libido or whatever, but it doesn’t give you the right to—”
Diego resisted the urge to give her rear a good swat. “You think I believe the crap you gave me about that kiss? Wrong, princess. You were blown away whether you want to admit it or not.”
“You egotistical—”
He swung her down onto her feet. “I didn’t think cavemen could be egotistical. Besides, am I wrong?”