by Lora Leigh
h of the enemy’s neck. The other man’s eyes widened in surprise even as his jugular split beneath the blade.
“No, dude. You’re dead.” He allowed the animalistic rumble free, glorying in the smell of blood, the bite of triumph.
Dash slid to the side as the reflexive clench of muscle tightened the man’s fingers on the trigger, sending a bullet whizzing harmlessly past him as blood pumped in a wide, vivid arc, splattering across the sleeve of Dash’s custom-made leather jacket.
The body fell heavily, sightless eyes staring back in macabre astonishment as the crimson wash of blood spilling over the cement floor widened beneath his head.
There was no remorse in Dash’s heart for the death. Some animals were just plain rabid in the soul, and this one was one of them. There could be no regret for putting the world out of the misery they brought.
Casually, he dragged the blade of the knife over the dead man’s shoulder, cleaning it quickly before checking the body for any information he could use. There was a phone number on the back of a wrinkled blank business card. No name. Dash tucked the card into his inner jacket pocket. Money. He tossed it by the body. A message to his boss, keys, a picture of the little girl and her mother. This, Dash tucked away as well.
Seconds later, confident that the man carried nothing that could be traced back to Elizabeth, Dash rose to his feet, replaced the knife and used a discarded towel on one of the machines to clean the sleeve of his jacket. He threw it over the face of the dead man before striding to the door.
He jimmied the lock before closing it behind him, making certain it couldn’t be opened easily. The apartment building echoed with the laughter of families, of children. He didn’t want to chance a child walking in on the bloody scene, or an innocent bystander taking the blame for the death. Not that he thought there would be many who would feel the loss of the man he had killed.
Dash stalked back to the front entryway into the frigidly cold December evening. As though he had nothing better to do he ambled around the building, heading for the alley in the back, hoping to pick up more information there. Elizabeth and Cassie had gone out the window that led into this alley. He doubted he would find much, but he had to check to be certain. Being cautious had gotten him this far; he wasn’t going to slacken now.
He didn’t see the navy blue sedan she was driving, thankfully. At least they were in the warmth in the vehicle rather than the biting cold of the frigid winter air. He knelt in front of the open window of the basement, surveying the displaced snow beneath it. The footsteps were barely visible now as they led to a set of tire tracks a few feet over. No, they weren’t too far ahead of him if the tracks in the snow were any indication. And if he wasn’t mistaken the bastards chasing them, minus the one he had just killed, were still watching the building. His hackles had risen the moment he stepped from the front door.
Dash looked around carefully as he rose to his full height and began checking out the tire marks along the wide alley. From the looks of it they had left in a hurry. Checking the prints he was fairly certain it matched the sedan and it headed into the heart of town. He sighed deeply as he stared into the twilight sky. Snow peppered his cheeks and forehead, and the smell of the air indicated a blizzard was well on its way.
They wouldn’t be able to run for much longer tonight. He should find them soon. Keeping his steps casual he moved back to the front of the building and his own vehicle. The four-by-four SUV would be traded in farther down the road for the military Hummer he had acquired at a local reserve depot. It would make short work of the lousy road conditions and keep him moving when no other vehicle would dare try. To catch the woman he had claimed before he ever saw her face, Dash knew he would need that advantage. It was also a vehicle the enemy was unfamiliar with. That edge would be important in the coming days.
He watched the rear view mirror carefully as he drove out of the parking lot and pulled his cell phone from the holder at his hip. Nine-one-one was a quick call. Brief and to the point. A dead body, nothing more. All the while, he kept the white Taurus in his peripheral vision. Yep, definite interest from the single occupant inside, but no attempt to follow. They were certain the kid and her mother would show up soon. They had no idea that woman was smarter than a whole unit of dumb asses. He shook his head and made the turn that would lead him in the direction he sensed Elizabeth had taken. His hunt was nearly at an end. Then he could begin playing in earnest.
* * * * *
Elizabeth was cold and hungry, and desperately fighting the rage and terror streaking through her veins, pumping hard and erratically through her heart. The snow was coming down so damned hard she had been forced to pull into the nearly deserted diner to wait it out. There she fed Cassie, watching the little girl eat even though her light blue eyes were still dilated in shock.
Poor little Cassie, she thought. Her life had been a series of upheavals and it didn’t look like it was going to end anytime soon. She hadn’t even cried out when they walked into the destruction of what had once been their home and seen the men sent to kill her. She was more than aware that to do so could mean their lives. Cassie’s involuntary cries had alerted their enemies more than once, and the child had known it. It was a terrible burden for a little girl to have to bear.
She was only eight. Bright, beautiful. Too beautiful to live the way she was being forced to live. She was too small. She was losing weight, losing sleep, just as Elizabeth herself was doing. At this rate, the stress of running would kill them before Dane’s enemies could.
Dane. She stilled the curse that rage fed to her lips. He had been Cassie’s father. Not a good man, but Elizabeth hadn’t believed he was essentially a bad man, either. Not until he had placed his daughter’s life in danger in an attempt to save his own skin. The bastard hadn’t even cared what he was doing to the little girl. All he cared about was saving himself.
It sickened her to think of the bargain he had made with the man he had been stealing from. How easily he had betrayed Cassie, hoping to escape his own punishment.
“Maybe Dash will come tonight,” the little girl mumbled softly to herself, barely loud enough for Elizabeth to hear the words. “Do you think he will?”
She wasn’t talking to her, Elizabeth knew. When the shock and stress was this great, Cassie turned inward, to herself. She talked to the fairy that she swore followed them. A bright, tiny little form that whispered comfort to her, that assured her Dash Sinclair was a good daddy name. And that Dash would save them.
God, she wanted to scream out in rage that her child had been reduced to such fairy tales to survive the mental and emotional cruelties being inflicted on her. Cassie was so certain the soldier she had been writing to would rescue them both and they would all live happily ever after. She didn’t know how to explain to her daughter that men, no matter how strong or how kind, wanted no part of the trouble they would bring.
Not that the soldier hadn’t made her daughter’s life brighter for a while; the bicycle she had been given only a few short months to enjoy, a small doll that Elizabeth had seen torn to shreds in that damned apartment. And she knew he had been behind the gifts of food that had come for such a short while. She had appreciated the gesture, but it had been just another burden. Another person to worry about.
She wondered if he had even realized Cassie’s letters had stopped coming to him. If he had even cared. He didn’t know them, had nothing invested in them, and he was half a world away. If he did bother to check, he would believe they had died in that apartment explosion last winter. Damn. It had been close. They nearly had died. The bastards chasing them couldn’t even set up a decent assassination properly.
And now, here her daughter sat, another broken dream shredding her soul apart because she had believed so deeply that Dash Sinclair would be there. That he was searching desperately for them. That they wouldn’t have to run anymore. Cassie had been watching for him for a week now, hope gleaming in her eyes each time she caught sight of a tall, dark-haired
man. Daily, the little girl studied the fuzzy, out of focus picture he had sent her, terrified that if she didn’t recognize the soldier herself, then he might pass by them without knowing who they were. The picture was taken in front of a helicopter with six other men. Dash stood in the rear, dusty, dressed in Army fatigues, his features blurred. She wouldn’t recognize him if he walked up to her.
“Eat, Cassie,” Elizabeth whispered, reaching across the booth to smooth back her daughter’s tangled dark curls from her white face. “We’ll get a room for the night and see if we can get some rest.” If Cassie didn’t sleep soon she would become ill. Elizabeth shuddered at the thought of trying to find medical help for her.
The attached motel seemed reasonable. A few hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt either of them. There was no way anything or anyone was moving in that blizzard outside. No one except the moron pulling into the parking lot in the military Hummer, that is.
Elizabeth watched as a large dark figure exited the vehicle before striding quickly to the door of the diner. He stepped inside, larger than life, looking stronger than a mountain, his eyes going immediately to her and Cassie. For a moment, fear shook her before she pushed it away.
No. The men chasing her weren’t that dangerous, that hard. If they were, she would have been toast two years ago. He was tall, one of the tallest men she had ever seen. Dressed in jeans, boots and a cotton shirt. Thick black hair grew rakishly long, falling over the collar of his shirt. Intense brown eyes, almost the color of amber, surveyed the diner slowly before coming back to her. Electricity sizzled in the air then, as though invisible currents connected them, forcing her to recognize him on a primitive level. Not that she wouldn’t take notice anyway. He was power, strength, and so incredibly male that her breath caught at the sight of him.
She watched his eyes flare with… No, that wasn’t possession. She was losing her mind. Sleep deprivation and pain had brought her so low that she was seeing only what she knew she wanted to see. It wasn’t possible that a stranger could see her, feel possession, hunger and determination to the extent that she thought she had glimped in his gaze before it became shuttered.
For the first time in years Elizabeth felt her hormones flare to life. That look was almost physical. A caress. A statement of intent. She blinked and shook her head at the hallucination. No. He was just a big, good-looking man, and she was getting desperate. Desperate to find help. To know her daughter was protected. He was big enough to appear able to protect them both. But she knew by now that no one could protect them. It had been driven home forcibly time and time again.
She lowered her head, watching Cassie once again as the little girl listlessly nibbled one of the fries from her plate. She had only taken a few bites of the hamburger, mostly because Elizabeth had forced her to.
“You have to eat, baby,” she whispered softly, fighting to hide her tears. “It’s okay now. I promise.”
“I’m tired, Momma.” Cassie dragged a fry through the ketchup now, but didn’t eat it. She was merely playing with it, and only halfheartedly at best.
“Eat, Cassie. And drink your milk.” She pushed the glass closer to the little girl, her heart breaking as Cassie raised her head, staring at her with bleak, horror-ridden eyes.
Elizabeth had to fight to still her scream of outrage. No child should ever stare out of such shattered eyes.
“Dash will come tonight, Momma.” Tear-filled eyes stared back at her, so heartbreakingly sad that Elizabeth wanted to die rather than continue to face them.
“Baby…” How could she tell her? How could she explain that there was no way Dash Sinclair could even know they were alive, let alone that once again, their killers were only hours behind them?
The last attack wasn’t the worst event of their long months on the run, but it was one of the hardest. The men had been waiting on them. If Elizabeth hadn’t locked the basement door behind them and found the window so quickly, then they would have been dead. As it was, a bullet had grazed her thigh, and then she had sliced her waist on the jagged window. She was weak and hungry herself. But she was afraid if she spent more money on food tonight then there would be none to feed Cassie later.
A movement from the man still standing by the door had her head lifting, a feeling of panic suddenly overwhelming her as his cool brown eyes met hers. His face was savagely honed. Perfectly angled for a warrior. Or maybe an assassin. Could Dane’s enemies have gotten tired of trying to do the job themselves?
On the heels of that thought, he began moving toward them. He didn’t just walk; he glided. Smooth powerful muscles rippled beneath the shirt and jeans, bringing him closer by the second. As he neared them, his arm moved, slowly reaching behind his back.
Elizabeth stiffened fearfully; ready to jump over the table to shield Cassie if a gun appeared. Dear God. What now? They were trapped. Unable to run. No place to hide.
A grin tugged at the stranger’s lips, as though he could sense her thoughts. It wasn’t a gun he pulled out, though, but a wrinkled piece of paper. She watched, her heart in her chest, fear burning in her belly even as a strange, displaced desire warmed her thighs.
He stopped at the booth, staring down at her, then at Cassie. Elizabeth looked over at her daughter, seeing the rounded eyes, her pale cheeks.
“Cassie,” he murmured as he handed her the paper. “I got your letter.”
Elizabeth felt the world tilt as Cassie whispered his name. “Dash?”
It wasn’t possible, she told herself. This couldn’t be Dash Sinclair. He couldn’t have really found them. Couldn’t have even known they needed help. Yet, who else could he be?
He glanced at Elizabeth. “Have you eaten?”
She could only shake her head. Dear God. It couldn’t be. It was a trick. She picked up the letter from the table and unfolded it.
I know you have lots of other little girls to love. Momma says you must be married with children and don’t need us. But I need you Dash. Please help me and my Momma before the bad guys get us again.
How had Cassie managed to post this letter without her knowing it? She stared at her daughter, barely able to process the fact that she was speaking to the stranger. A dangerous, cold-eyed stranger who claimed to be Cassie’s military penpal.
Cassie’s cheeks were flushed now. Hope radiated from her big blue eyes as shock was slowly displaced by happiness.
“You came, Dash.” Cassie threw herself into his big arms, her tiny body looking frail and helpless against the man’s chest, though his expression tightened with some undefined emotion as his arms contracted around her.
Dash Sinclair. She had loved that name herself, but had pushed it from her mind except for the few times Cassie had written the letters to the wounded soldier. That and when he had invaded her dreams. She hadn’t shared Cassie’s belief that one day Dash would come riding to their rescue, though. That one day he would protect them both. She was an adult. She didn’t believe in fairy tales, though she had fought to keep her daughter’s belief alive as long as possible.
“Eat, Cassie.” He sat Cassie back in her seat, pointing commandingly at the food.
Surprisingly enough, a french fry disappeared into her mouth immediately. Then another. Despite Elizabeth’s thankfulness that her daughter was eating, she couldn’t halt a small streak of jealously. Cassie had refused to eat for her mother. Yet she was eating for a stranger.
“Mac,” he called out the name of the aging, rotund man behind the diner’s bar. “I need two cheeseburger platters, two milks.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No…” She knew one of those platters was for her.
“Thank you, Dash.” Cassie laid her head against his arm as she chewed tiredly at the hamburger. “Momma was hungry. She didn’t eat yesterday, either. But I knew not to worry. I knew you would be here. I knew you would, Dash.”
Chapter Two
Dash barely stilled his rumbled growl as Cassie leaned against him. He lifted his arm, curving it around the frail shoulders, and star
ed back at her mother with a determination he prayed she was taking in.
His possessiveness toward these two had grown only stronger, only deeper over the months he had been searching for them. With each miss, each added awareness of the danger they faced, his resolve had only hardened. As though the extra DNA he possessed inside his body was howling out for a claiming in a way that threw him off guard. He didn’t like being thrown off guard. But he found himself accepting the responsibility of these two so naturally, that he often didn’t think to question it.
He could sense Elizabeth’s strength. It was there in her squared shoulders, the glint of battle in her weary blue eyes. She didn’t trust him and she sure as hell didn’t believe he was who he said he was. But he had expected that. Expected her to give him a fight. He had known she wouldn’t be easy to conquer.
He didn’t want her to be easy, though, Dash realized. She was a strong woman and his dominating instincts would run roughshod over any woman who wasn’t. She would have to learn how to stand up to him, when to push back and when to allow him to shoulder her weight. She would have to learn how to share the burdens rather than carry them on her fragile shoulders as she was used to.
Careful of the little head tucked against his chest now, Dash reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet free. Opening it, he laid it between them. It had his driver’s license in one clear pocket, his service ID in the other, both easy to see.
He watched her as she studied both and then lifted her eyes, a single brow arching mockingly. She had spunk; he’d give her that. She wasn’t taking anything at face value. Not the letter, not his ID.
Her gaze went to her daughter once again. Cassie had slumped against his side, her fragile body slowly relaxing as Dash felt her soaking in the heat of his body through her thin sweater. “Eat, Cassie, then you can sleep.”
“Yes, Momma.” Cassie was plain worn down and it infuriated him.
Mother and daughter looked like they had spent too many days without sleep or proper food. Their faces were pale, their eyes overly bright from nerves and fear.
“I came to help, Elizabeth,” he promised her as he replaced his wallet, aware of the burly waiter as he moved from the bar with the plates of food. “Eat and then we’ll discuss it.”
He tried to sound reassuring. Tried to appear non-threatening, but he knew it was like trying to hide an elephant with a blanket. He was dangerous when crossed in the wrong way. Dangerous period if the situation warranted it, as this one did.
Mac, as his name tag proclaimed, set the platters heaping with food on the faded top of the booth’s table. As he did, the sleeve of his white T-shirt slipped up, revealing a Special Forces tattoo. Dash filed the information away for the moment. He would need someone to cover for them when they left. With any luck, he could gain help there.
“You’re very bossy,” Elizabeth murmured as she stared down at the food.
Dash could damned near see her mouth watering. Just as he could see her pride warring with her need.
“Realistic.” He shrugged. “You don’t eat, you can’t fight, darlin’. What’s more important? Your pride or your health?” Or your daughter. He left those words unsaid, though.
He knew exactly how important her child was to her. She had prevailed against odds that many men would have faltered beneath to save her little girl. He wouldn’t begrudge her the pride he saw glittering in her eyes, but she would eat.
And she did. He ate his own food, watching carefully as she ate more than half the huge sandwich and managed to put a dent in the fries. The milk was consumed with pleasure, a flutter of her eyelashes that betrayed her joy in the drink. As though it had been a while since she had tasted it.
He wondered if she would find as much pleasure in being touched, stroked, as he had fantasized about in the past months. The closer he had come to finding her, the more explicit his dreams had become, and the more savage his desire for her had grown. He wanted her with a hunger he had never known before. But first, he had to get them settled down, get them to a place of safety. He couldn’t relax his guard until he had managed that. To do it, he would have to drive through one of the worst blizzards of the century.
Dash kept a careful eye on the parking lot through the mirror behind her, making certain no other vehicles pulled in. There was a line of eighteen-wheelers extending for miles down the interstate due to the blizzard conditions, and the fluffy white stuff didn’t seem to have a mind to ease for a while. News reports were promising a full-fledged white-out, which meant he didn’t have much longer to get them to a place of safety.
Thankfully, one of the men he had fought with in the Middle East owned a place just a few hours from where they were. He had contacted him on the cell phone before leaving town and knew he and his family were waiting on them.
For years Dash had fought alongside his fellow soldiers, maintaining a careful distance, keeping a rein on his need to draw close to others. He had feared he would be turned down when he saw he would have to ask for help along the way. Surprisingly enough, he had been welcomed. They had quite a drive ahead of them and he still wasn’t certain their final destination would provide the sanctuary he hoped to give Elizabeth and Cassie. But at least he knew the way there would be easier.
First, he had to get her out of the diner. And she didn’t look so predisposed to trust him.
As he ate, one-handed to allow little Cassie her resting spot against his side, he watched her mother. Her delicate face was elegant; a sharp, determined little nose that rounded ever so slightly at the tip, hinting at a playfulness she had been forced to bury within her, wide blue eyes, high cheekbones and delicate rosy lips he could fully imagine kissing.
“Thank you for the food.” She finally pushed her plate away, her gaze settling on Cassie.
She had fallen asleep against his side, her slight little body completely relaxed against him. He glanced at her plate. Like her mother, she had been unable to complete her meal, but she had eaten enough to satisfy him. Enough to help her sleep through the long drive ahead.
“She’s so tired.” Elizabeth sighed as she raked her fingers wearily through her long, tangled, dark brown hair. It was colored. He knew the silken strands should hold the deep burnished color of dark chestnut, soft and shimmering with auburn highlights. It looked dull, not dirty, but as tired as he knew she was physically.
“You’re both exhausted.” He tried to keep his voice soft, to still the rough growl that kept building in his throat, roughening his voice, making him sound hard, but he was unable to.
Unfortunately, Dash thought, he was who he was, what he had been made into. He was hard, demanding, and made little allowances for any foolishness. Elizabeth would have to see that her only safety lay in him. He wouldn’t accept anything less.
“You’re coming with me, Elizabeth. You and Cassie.” He stared back at her firmly, watching her eyes widen. “I know you’re wounded and you’re too exhausted to keep up like this. I came to help you.”
She eased back, pressing against the back of the booth as she watched him warily. He could see the battle going on within her. The need to trust. The fear. She had been betrayed too many times to just calmly accept his offer. He wasn’t going to give her a choice, though.
At the moment she, like Cassie, was more shell-shocked than anything. The earlier escape had been a close one and he knew the terror of it still pulsed through her veins. Fine tremors shook her body occasionally, though he could tell she fought to still them, to maintain her appearance of strength.
“I appreciate the gesture…”
Dash grunted as he frowned at her heavily. “Don’t say anything you’re going to have to swallow later, Elizabeth,” he warned her, keeping his voice commanding. “While I’ve been chasing you down the past six months, I learned exactly what you’re up against.” He hated the way her face whitened further and the hunted look that strengthened the shadows in her eyes. “You can’t fight this alone. You know that.”
Her
gaze went to Cassie, and Dash watched them moisten with tears. She pressed her lips tightly together as her fists clenched against the stained Formica of the tabletop.
They were small, delicate hands, with long, graceful fingers. Hands a man would kill to have stroking over his body. He was dying to have her touch him. To see if the woman could match the drug-induced dreams he still clearly remembered.
“I don’t have a choice.” Her voice was rough, hollow. “I can’t take the chance, Mr. Sinclair. I don’t know you. I won’t trust you.”
They weren’t empty phrases. She had been betrayed one time too many. Had fought too long to give in now and just accept anyone else taking over. Which was okay, he told himself silently. He would let her fight as much as her pride needed, but in the end, he would win.
Dash allowed a smile to tip his lips. “I didn’t ask you for your trust or your permission, Elizabeth. I was stating a fact. We have to get you and Cassie somewhere safe, then we can see about eliminating the problem.”
If her face could have whitened more, it would have. He knew she had tried more than once to go to the authorities, to find a way to do what was right. But men, even those sworn to uphold the rights of the innocent, were often much too human. Those who couldn’t be bought had been killed. And he knew her conscience had been laid bare by the deaths of those who had tried to help.