“I’ve apologized to you and Manu. Besides, we’re cousins and friends. We argue, and we move on.”
“Oh. Okay.” Cassie pulled open drawers, placed clothes in a pile on the bed. “Um, can you come with me to the bathroom?” Her chin wobbled and he closed the distance between them to offer comfort. Her vulnerability dragged out the protective caveman. Something new, but an action he didn’t shy from with Cassie.
“What do you need? I can get it for you.”
“My toothbrush and other toiletries.”
“All right, babe. You finishing packing. I’ll get them for you.”
Hone strode into the bathroom, noted the window—open scant inches due to the security lock—the black dusting of fingerprint powder. After sucking in a deep breath to test for scents, he scowled. An out-of-place smell polluted the air. Greasy. Paint-like. It could’ve come from the cops. He’d question Cassie once she’d calmed.
He secured the window and gathered the toiletries into the blue toilet bag sitting on the vanity top. “I think I have everything. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” She stood by the bed, arms wrapped around her torso.
“You’ve had an eventful day.” He tossed the toilet bag into the open bag on the bed and zipped it shut, then picked it up with his left hand.
“I don’t want a repeat, that’s for sure.”
An understatement. Run off the road this morning and an intruder tonight. “Any enemies you know of?”
“I haven’t been back in New Zealand for long.” A furrow formed between her bloodshot eyes, and she gnawed her bottom lip like a champ. “I haven’t had time to make enemies.”
“Ex-boyfriends?”
“I spoke to Kevin earlier today. While we didn’t part on good terms, we still work together. It’s not him since he’s still in Los Angeles.”
“I see.” Not really, and neither did his taniwha. The idea of another man with hands-on privileges brought the beast to growly life. Hone—the man—disliked the thought too. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve no reason to suppose otherwise. I need my guitar,” she said without warning, balking at his gentle guidance toward the door. “I can’t go without it.” She darted away, grabbed the instrument and returned to his side.
“Where is the case?”
“Still at your place.”
Guilt roared through him in a dizzy rush. His fault. God, he hadn’t experienced the longing to pummel Manu since his teen days when he was learning to control his taniwha. His father would’ve been horrified. His uncle too, but he figured Manu wouldn’t blab because that would draw June’s attention. No one wanted the matriarch angry, spurting fiery punishment.
“Did the police have any idea of the prowler’s identity?”
“They said they hadn’t received reports of clowns breaking into properties.” She pulled a face. “Clowns are creepy.”
“You ain’t wrong.” Hone scanned the motel grounds as he hustled Cassie to his vehicle. The back of his neck tingled, dragon spidery-senses roaring, and he didn’t doubt someone skulked in the darkness. Watching. Calculating. It would be interesting to see if that Peeping Tom followed them—not that he’d make their location easy to discover.
His vehicle unlocked, and he placed Cassie’s bag in the rear. He opened the passenger door for her, half his attention on their surroundings. If he could pinpoint the vicinity, he might have a chance of catching the bastard.
A chuff of approval rippled through his mind, yet the human part of him tempered the eagerness with a mental order.
We need to keep Cassie safe.
“Have plans for tomorrow?” During the drive home, he scrutinized other vehicles while doing the small-chat thing with Cassie.
“Same as earlier. The clown doesn’t change anything.”
“Who dresses up as a clown?”
“Yeah. I know. Who does that?” She yawned, white teeth flashing before she clapped a hand over her lips. “Sorry.”
“Nearly home,” Hone said. “You can sleep without worrying about clowns.”
Cassie lay in the comfy bed in Hone’s spare room. Each of the four windows were locked. Hone had set the alarm. She should feel safe, but every clock tick, every car rumble, every unfamiliar creak had her bolting upright, fear rioting, cold sweat bursting across her skin. Every time she closed her eyes, the clown did a cha-cha-cha across her eyelids. White face. Scarlet lips. Bubble nose. Creepy. The lyrics of the song resounded in a loop-de-loop. Creepy. So creepy.
A harsh squeak had her halfway to the door before the order from her brain. At the repeat of the creak, she darted through the doorway, down the passage to Hone’s bedroom—the one he’d pointed out earlier. She skidded through the doorway, despite the darkness, despite her lack of glasses, despite the skimpy nightclothes, the bad boy danger. She blundered forward, barked her knees on the bed.
“Oomph.” She caught her weight on her hands and straightened to rub the sore spots.
“Cassie, what’s wrong?” His husky voice guided her.
“Noises.” Like a heat-seeking missile, she headed for safety.
“What sort of noises?” The covers whispered as he changed position.
“Groans and thumps. Squeaks.”
“Get into bed to keep warm while I do a security check.” The floor creaked, and she widened her eyes to see the blur of Hone and what he wore—or didn’t wear—to bed.
“I…um…”
His voice. It got to her—strummed and plucked her nerves in a different way. This time the quakes working through her body had nothing to do with her crazy day, everything to do with him.
“Cassie.” His voice soothed, a gentle calm-the-wild-animal inflection. “Do as you’re told. I’ll be back once I’ve done recon.”
She shuffled, still night-blind, lack-of-glasses blind, using her hand to guide her to the head of the bed. Tension kept her shoulders stiff, and she strained to hear. She’d never forgive herself if danger had followed her to Hone’s home.
“Cassie?”
She let out a shriek.
Without warning, light flooded the bedroom.
“Cassie, it’s me.”
“Did you find anything?” She tried not to focus on his naked chest. Her gaze skittered down to his form-fitting boxer-briefs. Not much better. She wrenched her gaze away and settled for watching his face. He sported a grin.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he murmured.
For a naughty second, she speculated if he meant outside or in his boxer-briefs. “I…” She wrapped her arms around herself again, pressing her oversize T-shirt to her unbound breasts. “Um…don’t look at me like that. I can’t concentrate.”
“Me neither,” he whispered. “Go back to bed, Cassie.”
“I can’t sleep,” she wailed. “I close my eyes and I see clowns. C-can I stay with you?”
“Is that a good idea?”
“You won’t hurt me.”
“That’s not what I meant. If you keep up the silent invitations, I will forget myself and kiss you. You’ve had a rough day.”
Before she could answer, he pulled back the covers and gestured for her to get into the bed. The light switched off the second she cuddled into the duvet. While she’d experienced a chill earlier, now heat raced across her skin.
The mattress dipped and her breath caught. “I’m not imagining clowns now.”
“Good.”
“I’m thinking about you kissing me.”
Was that a groan? It could’ve been a tetchy sigh. “Cassie, you’ve had a hard day. You’re bruised and someone tried to frighten you. Go to sleep.”
Cassie flopped onto her side, huffed out her frustration. Emma would never believe this scenario. She’d offered herself to Hone and received a rejection.
The bad boy had scruples.
Chapter Eleven
Hone recognized the moment she fell asleep because her breathing deepened and her body relaxed. Kissing. Hell, he had to open his big mouth, tell he
r he wanted to kiss her. Do more than kiss. Both human and taniwha thought about Cassie Miller-Pope far more than advisable.
He stared into the darkness. She inhaled softly, and her floral fragrance wafted on the air. His taniwha hummed in approval. Would Cassie wake if he left the bed? Self-preservation drove him to think of drinking, despite his dragon’s delight in her presence.
If he didn’t move soon, he’d end up doing something stupid…like waking her, like ravaging her lips with his, like rolling her under him.
Without warning, she turned over, minimizing the distance between them. She snuggled. Snuggled against his chest. Snuggled until his groan filled the air, yet she didn’t wake.
Maybe he could…
Before he took action, she flung her arm over his hip, effectively trapping him. If he moved, chances were he’d wake her.
Perhaps if he mentally arranged his calendar for the rest of the week. The quote for a burglar alarm at a residential property. Yeah. And the off-site meeting for a clothing factory to halt staff pilfering. What next? Crap. What next?
The…the cheating husband. Following him. Snapping telltale photos for the wife after revenge. Yeah. She aimed to nail his arse to the wall. The cheaters met for lunch. Had to organize his day around this assignment.
Huh! Better. Along with not wanting to hurry into a serious relationship, watching the stream of imploding couples during his work day made a man cynical. His muscles relaxed until he recalled his friends.
Jack. Emma. They experienced the same phenomenon.
Cheating. Sneaking around. Lies.
Neither had hesitated. They seemed happy. No. They were happy.
Man, this relationship stuff confused him. Things had been easier before Cassie exploded into his life. Only two days ago. His life—simpler pre-Cassie.
He puffed out a hard breath, checked to see if Cassie stirred. So much in a short time. He recalled Jack’s grumpiness with Emma. His avoidance. His other women before he gave up running. Fleeing. Hiding.
Was that what he was doing?
His dragon growled. At him, this time. Off-balance. Out-of-sorts. He kept screwing up simple things.
Not too late to walk away. Run away. Sprint.
He hadn’t kissed her yet.
Trouble. A human came with trouble. Big and chaotic and worrying trouble.
Emma had handled the knowledge of Jack’s otherness.
Cassie…
No! No, getting close and personal with Cassie.
Hone grunted. Frustration. Longing. Hope. His beast pounded him with contrary emotions, refuting every logical argument.
Sex.
Hot and sweaty sex.
He squirmed now. Cassie’s weight restricted movement, merely suffusing him with awareness. His dick grazed her leg, and his moan of pleasure-pain squeezed free.
It was gonna be a bloody long night.
Hone woke. Instant awareness zapped him into sexual frustration. Cassie’s warm body draped him like a comfy blanket. Must’ve gone to sleep after all.
His cock ached. Ached so bad. He pushed out his senses. Not long ’til daybreak.
Cassie stirred. One moment she was relaxed and fragrant and perfect in his arms. The next, every muscle grew rigid.
“Cassie?” His dick throbbed. Just the slightest touch…
“Hone!”
He growled at her shocked tone. “Who’d you expect?”
She jerked away, putting space between them. Her naked eyes, different without her glasses, blinked at him. “Did you have to make a move on me while I was sleeping?”
His laugh scratched his throat as it emerged. “I was lying here wondering how to get out of bed without waking you. You were on top of me.”
Delicate pink flushed her cheeks. “I’ve always been a bed hog.”
A picture popped into his mind—one of Cassie with a faceless man.
Hell to the no.
His taniwha swelled with fury, push, push, pushing against his skin-and-bone cage. A growl escaped, rippling in the air between them.
Her swift inhalation caught. She stared, wide-eyed. Easy to read her thoughts. Fight or flight. Damn his impertinent animal side.
“W-what was that?”
Hone refused to lie. Nah, avoidance to survive. Deny. Deny. Deny. He reached for her, dragged her close in one efficient move. Her curves fit him like perfect puzzle pieces. Soft to hard. She opened her mouth.
Hell, women liked to talk. No talking. Talking was bad.
He kissed her.
A mistake.
He acknowledged it the instant her lips softened against his.
His taniwha purred, glorying in his human half following his program.
Warning. Warning. Warning. Pull back. Pull back. Pull back now.
Instead, Hone deepened the contact, diving into the kiss. He inhaled, dragging in her floral scent. His tongue dragged across her lower lip, and he nipped her, her sharp gasp indicating surprise. The second she opened to him, he went all-out, tasting and learning her as he’d craved since the first time he’d spotted her with Emma.
She gripped his shoulders and pushed to separate their bodies.
Hone froze. Did she not want this? Hellfire.
He pulled back a fraction. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to force myself on you.”
“You didn’t. I can hear a phone.”
Cassie’s red, swollen lips drew his gaze. So pretty.
“The phone?”
Finally, her words pierced his fog-brain, and he, too, heard the summons.
“Stay there. I’ll get it.” He threw back the covers and stalked from the bedroom, mentally cursing himself for not placing his cell phone by his bed. He normally did. Cassie’s fault.
He licked his lips, located the offending phone and barked into it, “This had better be good.”
“It’s Jack. Emma says Cassie isn’t answering her call.”
“What time is this to ring?” Hone demanded.
“Six isn’t early.”
“It is when you have a willing woman in your bed.”
“That better not be Cassie,” Jack snapped, his attitude reminiscent of the Jack of old, before Emma smoothed his rough edges.
“There was trouble at the motel last night. A prowler. Cassie had to call the cops.”
“Crap. She okay?”
Hone heard Emma prattling in the background. He wasn’t surprised to find himself speaking with her instead of Jack. Knowing she’d want to talk to Cassie, he returned to the bedroom. Cassie was propped against his pillows. He took a moment to savor the sight before handing her the phone. Emma continued to prattle and squawk.
“Emma wants to talk to you.”
He handed over the cellphone, and she shivered at the hand-to-hand contact. His taniwha sighed happily. Interesting.
Terrifying.
No. No more touching. He stepped back. Away.
“Hi, Emma.” Cassie listened, held the phone farther from her ear. “Emma! I’m okay. I rang the police and—”
Emma interrupted. “Why didn’t you ring me?”
Hone eavesdropped without shame. Knowledge was power. He needed to know this woman.
“Hone came. It was late and I didn’t want to wake you and Jack.”
“What will you do about the concerts?” Emma demanded. “Someone ran you off the road and you had to report a prowler. You’ve been home days. Days! You shouldn’t be on your own. You need security. What if it’s a fan? A smart one who’s figured out the truth?”
Hone dropped onto the side of the bed, pretending interest in sleep. Fan? Concerts? What the hell was Emma babbling about?
“When is the first concert?”
“Saturday.” Cassie dissected his expression until he felt like a nuisance bug. Seemed her vision worked okay this close. He shut his eyes a scant second before her gaze tickled over his face.
“What about security?” Emma demanded.
“Didn’t think I’d need protection. This is New Zea
land, not the States.”
“Hello?” Emma screeched so loud even Hone winced. “Prowler? I’ll talk to George, see if he’ll give me time off to bodyguard you while you’re performing.”
While Hone digested this, he heard Jack’s curse of protest.
“I can afford to pay for security.” She glanced at him, and this time Hone stared back openly. “We can discuss this later. I have things to do today.” She hung up on Emma mid-lecture.
“Why do you need security?”
Cassie wet her lips. “I want a confidentiality agreement before I answer that.”
Hone froze. “I’m your friend. Emma’s friend. I’d never hurt you.”
“My last boyfriend—Kevin—I found him in bed with another couple. We’d been together for almost a year. I was planning on forever with him.”
“An agreement won’t prevent me from fucking around,” Hone spoke bluntly, but he took his phone and hit speed dial. “Dad, do you have free time this morning? Good, I need to see you. I’m bringing someone with me, and we need a non-disclosure contract. Nine? Sure, that works. See you then.” He hung up and turned to Cassie.
His dragon purred, ecstatic at their proximity.
Hell. Too close.
Her heat. Her feminine scent. Her sexy breathing.
He jumped to his feet and forced his legs to carry him to the end of the king-size bed. “Nine work for you?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Her expression veered to weird. “Most people would’ve turned huffy, demanded answers.”
“I’m not most people,” Hone snapped. “You want coffee?”
“Please.”
“I’ll bring in your bag for you. You can use my shower.” He gestured to his en suite and left before his dragon pushed the issue, and he climbed back in bed with her.
Oh, sugar.
She puffed out her breath hard enough to stir her fringe. She’d pissed him off when he’d been nothing but kind to her, rescuing her not once, but twice. Yet, she didn’t know him…
You kissed him, a little voice interrupted. Heat rushed through her at the memory. The man kissed…perfect, masterful kisses that strummed her like a guitar. He had a right to ask questions, but what would happen once he learned the truth? She’d discovered it was better to keep her life private—her two lives separate. Less complicated, and she didn’t have to make excuses about her absences, her weird hours.
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