Her Wild Protector (Paranormal Romance)

by Naomi Bellina

  “No,” Marshall said, in a tone she was beginning to recognize as one that ended a topic of conversation.

  Men who cared about critters ranked high in her book. She gave a feeble smile in his direction to let him know she appreciated the gesture.

  The boat finally pulled up to a scruffy-looking dock and Tara scrambled out of the craft, never so happy to see dry land in her life. She was so delighted to be standing on firm ground she paid little notice as Marshall hauled their luggage out of the boat and the vessel departed.

  When the sound of the motor totally receded, the sudden stillness snapped her to attention. She was alone, on what looked like a deserted island, with a strange man. A very strange man. Not far up a path she saw a small house and behind that, she could make out another one-story structure and what looked like an outbuilding. Other than that, there was nothing in view except nature.

  Island fever set in. Tara had the overwhelming desire to jump up and scream for that demon boat to come back and get her. She would happily vomit all day to return to civilization.

  Marshall peered at her over his sunglasses. “You look a little green. Are you still seasick?”

  “I’m better. There isn’t a boat anywhere here, on the island?”

  “No, there is no boat.”

  “What if something happens and we need to leave suddenly?”

  “I can call and a vessel will be here quickly. We’re perfectly safe. We have food, water, electricity and internet access. What are you so worried about?” He grabbed his suitcase and started walking.

  Tara gripped her own and rolled it along the uneven path. “I don’t know you, I don’t know who or what this so-called government agency is and I don’t appreciate being dragged from my home to come here.”

  Tara wasn’t a whiner and generally despised people who did, but right now she didn’t care. If Marshall thought she was going to be a quiet, passive girl who did whatever he told her to, he had another think coming.

  They reached the first house and Marshall led them to the kitchen. He rolled his bag to a corner, then made a call from the phone on the wall.

  “We’re here,” he announced to whoever was on the other end, then hung up. He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

  “What are you doing?” he asked her. Tara had plopped her suitcase on the floor and was frantically digging.

  “I need to brush my teeth. Now.”

  “Bathroom’s down that hall,” Marshall said, pointing the way.

  She located her toothbrush and paste and gave her mouth a vigorous scrub. Better. Her oral hygiene complete, Tara went into the small living room and took a look around. The couch, loveseat and easy chair looked old but comfortable. There was a television and stereo, a bookcase, a small desk and a few nondescript pictures. Several shells and other knickknacks decorated the room but otherwise it looked as impersonal as a hotel suite. She plunked down into the chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Can I at least call someone and tell them where I am?” Her bout of nausea had left her cranky. Marshall sat at the desk, his laptop open. He turned toward her.

  “Tara, I don’t think you’ve grasped the gravity of this situation. No, you can’t tell anyone where you are, you have to keep hidden and you have to stay with me. I’m your best shot at staying alive. If we don’t figure out how you’re able to see the Metamorphs’ other forms and reverse that process, the rogues will keep coming after you until you’re dead. Your life is in danger. What proof do you need besides being attacked by a vicious cat?”

  “I’d like to meet someone else from DOSA. Someone normal.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, Tara regretted them. Marshall said nothing, but his jaw tightened and his lips compressed.

  “Dr. Freeman will be here shortly to examine you. Will that suffice?” His tone was cold as an arctic breeze.

  “I don’t like having my fate in someone else’s hands. I prefer to make my own decisions and I’m tired of you bossing me around.”

  “And you know what? I’m tired of being your babysitter. I should be out hunting for Denzel. I could find him and convince him that if he doesn’t back off and keep the other rogues off our backs, we’ll make sure he never sees a dime of the money he’s supposed to get. Instead, I’m stuck keeping track of you and hiding out on this island.”

  “Then just take me home and go find that big cat.”

  “Those are not my orders. Besides, do you really want to go back to your apartment? Have another rogue break down your door?” Marshall rose and he went into the kitchen. He opened then slammed the refrigerator door closed.

  “I wasn’t going to go to my house. I can stay at a hotel.” Her voice quivered, much to her disgust. Tara had really had enough of this arrogant man and his condescending attitude. She was tired, scared, and the thought of someone babysitting her was just too insulting.

  “For how long? I know your funds are limited. What, you’re shocked we’re aware of this? I know you made a bad investment…” he began.

  She leapt to her feet. That was the last straw.

  “No, I didn’t make a bad investment, my husband did. I made a bad decision, trusting him.”

  Marshall turned to her and his expression softened slightly. Maybe he could tell she was at the end of her rope. “We know a lot about you and so do the rogues. They’ll find you wherever you are. This is where you’ll be the safest and it’s not the worst place in the world to spend time. Try to trust me, just a little bit. ”

  She stood glaring at him, her hands in fists. Anger and shame filled her heart, as it did whenever she thought about her last days with Karl. He’d assured her that the deli he wanted to sink money into was a winning proposition. The woman he’d partnered with knew what she was doing, he promised. But within six months all their money was gone and the creditors were knocking at the door.

  Tara could have forgiven Karl for that. Everyone makes mistakes. What she could not overlook was coming home sick from work one day and finding her husband in bed with his ex-partner.

  Tara had left him. The asshole had never even apologized, declaring the affair was her fault because she had been such a ball-buster and did not give him enough support. He’d carried the pathetic routine all through the divorce proceedings, and although they had little property left to fight over at that point, he’d ended up with most of it.

  Trust him indeed. It would be a long while before she trusted any man again.

  “Come on, I’ll show you to your bedroom. I need to work on the computer for a while, but then you can use it, if you’d like, as long as you don’t send out personal information. We have television and plenty of books here. Dr. Freeman will be along in a few hours.”

  As soon as Tara saw the bed, an overwhelming desire to lie down washed over her. The sheets smelled freshly laundered, even from across the room. A light breeze blew through the open window and somewhere in the distance a bird chirped. She rolled her suitcase to a corner and let it fall with a thump.

  “I think I’d like to take a nap,” she said.

  “That’s a good idea. You know where the bathroom is, if you need to use it. There are towels on the shelf. Help yourself to anything else you need. You saw where the kitchen is located.” Marshall turned to leave. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I know you didn’t ask to be put in this situation,” he said, his back to her. “I appreciate you working with me.” He closed the door gently behind him, and Tara’s last thought before sleep claimed her was that the view of her protector was as nice from the back as it was from the front.

  Chapter Five

  “Wake up, Tara.” Someone shook her. Tara started awake and sat up abruptly. Marshall stood by the side of her bed. “I didn’t mean to startle you. The doctor is here. Take a few minutes if you need to, but come out soon. He wants to return home before dark.”

  Marshall left the room and Tara stretched and yawned. Judging by the position of the sun, she’d been asleep several hours. Feeling sl
ightly more refreshed than she had earlier, she dug her cosmetics from her suitcase and padded to the bathroom. Face washed and a smattering of makeup applied, she decided she was ready to face whatever torture was next on the agenda.

  Dr. Freeman looked harmless enough. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties, of medium height and build. He had a pleasant but totally unexceptional face. If she’d seen him on the street, she would never guess he worked for a secret organization. Was he a Metamorph, too? He’d unpacked his bag on the dining room table and was chatting with Marshall when she came in. He shook her hand as Marshall introduced them.

  “What are you going to do to me, Dr. Freeman?” Tara peered at the paraphernalia spread across the table.

  “Call me Ned.”

  “What can I get you to drink?” Marshall asked her.

  “It depends. Do you have sharp needles or electroshock planned?”

  “No, no, I just want to run a few preliminary tests today. I don’t have my instruments here to do a complete panel,” Ned said. “Have a seat.”

  His calm demeanor put Tara at ease.

  “Then I’ll have water,” Tara said. Marshall brought them all glasses then went back to his laptop on the kitchen counter.

  “Tell me what happened to you, Tara,” Dr. Freeman said, pushing her bangs out of the way and lightly palpating the bump on her forehead.

  Tara related the story of adjusting the volume on her television set, feeling an electrical shock, then falling and hitting her head.

  “Why were you in such a hurry to adjust the volume?” he asked as he shone a light in her eyes and ears. “Why didn’t you just turn off the television and wait until you had batteries?”

  A blush rose to her cheeks. “The neighbors were making noise. I wanted to drown it out.”

  “Noise? What kind of noise?” he asked, pressing a stethoscope to her chest. “Cough, please.”

  She did. “Just…noise.” She sneaked a glance at Marshall. He looked up from his laptop, amusement shining in his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. Damn, he was hot when he smiled. That half grin stirred her heart. She couldn’t imagine what a full-on burst of pleasantness from him would do to her. He’d shown her moments of kindness and she’d even seen a spark of humor. A fun-loving guy lurked inside him, buried somewhere behind his walls, she was certain.

  Ned moved a piece of equipment closer to her and attached electrodes to her temples and her wrists.

  “I suppose you know it’s a bad idea to use a screwdriver on an electrical appliance when it’s plugged in.” He turned on the machine, and Tara leaned over to look at the screen.

  “Just relax. We’re almost done.”

  Tara sighed. Despite the stress of the day, she did feel reasonably relaxed. The sliding glass doors in the living room were open, letting in the ocean air. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore in a rhythmic pattern calmed her nerves better than any tranquilizer.

  Marshall came from the kitchen area and stood behind her. She could feel his body heat on her skin, almost as though he’d caressed her.

  “What would you like for dinner?” he asked.

  “Are you cooking?”

  “No, Emma and Craig Henderson, our caretakers, do that. We don’t have an unlimited menu, but we’ll try to find something you like.”

  “Hmm, your body temperature is rising. Are you feeling all right?” Ned asked.

  Tara bit her lip, and sneaked another glance at Marshall, his mouth once again twisted in a grin of amusement. He moved back to his spot at the counter.

  “There, that’s more like it. It must have just been a random spike. You’re too young for hot flashes.”

  “So what is going on with me?” she asked as he peeled off the pads.

  “I can’t say for certain until I run more tests, but I believe when you simultaneously jarred your brain and sent an electrical shock to it, your cellular structure was altered. Have you had any other symptoms? Give me your arm please. I need a sample of your blood, then we’ll be done.”

  “Yes, I did notice odd patches of light and shadows, and it seemed like my mind was working faster the day after I fell. Like everything was clearer.”

  “That could be another symptom of the alteration. This will only hurt a little bit.”

  “Dinner?” Marshall asked again from the other room.

  Tara’s stomach lurched at the thought of food.

  “I’m not terribly hungry.” She flinched as the needle went in and turned her head. The sight of her own blood leaving her body always made her queasy.

  “You should eat something. You’ll be low on blood after this vampire drains you. Emma makes a mean Caesar salad. I’ll have her prepare one for both of us.”

  Tara started to protest. There was nothing that irritated her more than having a man presume to know what she wanted and ordering food for her in a restaurant. The last time she’d been out with a man, the hapless date had done just that and Tara had nearly scared the poor server away by loudly announcing that she could order for herself. In retrospect, she knew she could have been a bit gentler, but at the time she wanted to make a point. It was made, and she never saw the gentleman again.

  Recalling Marshall’s words regarding her cooperation, she let go of her pride. He was, after all, just doing his job, which was to ensure her safety and comfort.

  “That will be fine,” she said to Marshall. The doctor finished taking her blood and she turned his way. “Okay Doc, let’s say that is what happened to my cells. Can you put them back to normal?”

  “Yes, I believe I can. It should be a simple process. I’ll just need to calibrate your biorhythms. Nothing too complicated. I’ve done as much as I can here,” Ned said and began to pack his bag. “Of course, if you prefer to stay like this, you would be a valuable asset to DOSA. We would certainly consider having you come work for us.”

  “No thanks, I don’t want to work for your company. I don’t think you could offer me enough hazardous duty pay. Sorry, no offense intended.”

  Ned smiled slightly. “You would be under our protection then, you know.”

  Tara narrowed her eyes. “Will I need protection? What’s going to happen to me after you fix my brain?”

  “Once you can no longer see the Metamorphs, Denzel and the other rogues should leave you alone,” Marshall said.

  “Really? Just like that he’s going to quit chasing me?”

  “I’ve got word from my supervisor. Even though Denzel doesn’t have much in the way of scruples, he values his life. DOSA tolerates him because he generally stays off their radar. Members of DOSA will contact him and let him know he is to leave you alone or his life will be in danger. He’ll back off.”

  Marshall sounded so certain, Tara wanted to believe him. She wanted to know she would be safe and this would all end soon, but her instincts told her otherwise. Ned was silently packing his equipment and Tara observed his body language. His shoulders were stiff and he wasn’t meeting her eyes.

  “Isn’t DOSA concerned that I’ll tell people about them?”

  “Marshall will be sent a contract for you to sign tomorrow. You’ll agree to not speak of our organization to anyone.”

  “Or else?” Tara really didn’t want to hear the answer but knew she needed to. She had no plans to tell anyone about her escapade, but members of a powerful government organization would probably not just take her word for it.

  “Or else your life will be miserable from this day forward. No, the agreement isn’t worded like that but believe me, that’s what it means. Your job will disappear and you won’t be able to get another decent one. The IRS will take a keen interest in your taxes and you’d better not drive over the speed limit ever again.”

  Ned had his back to them both as he delivered this news. Though he remained silent, Tara saw Marshall’s jaw tense.

  “One more reason I don’t want to become a DOSA employee. Your human resources strategy sucks. Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything t
o anyone. I just want my life back to normal. So what happens next?”

  Her pulse was pounding. Though she didn’t appreciate being threatened, she needed to talk to the doctor more. He was hiding something, possibly about her condition, that he wasn’t sharing.

  “Arrangements are being made to have you come to my laboratory in Virginia. Until then, stick close to Marshall. He’ll take care of you. He knows what he’s doing. Oh, here is medication for your nausea. I understand you get seasick. We’ve come up with a foolproof formula. It works instantly and has no side effects.” Tara took the pills he handed her. “Thank you. Could I speak with you for a moment more?” she asked him.

  “I’m sorry, I really do have to leave. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Do you have a card?”

  “Marshall can reach me.”

  And he was gone.

  “Is that how your employer always operates? By threatening people?” Tara fought to keep her voice calm. She didn’t need to take out her anger on Marshall.

  “They have to ensure anonymity,” he said, and she heard the struggle in his own voice. His right hand was curled into a fist and his jaw was still tight.

  “I have phone calls to make. Emma and Craig will be here soon,” Marshall said, and strode out of the room.

  Unsettled by the encounter, Tara got on the computer, and mindful of Marshall’s warning, did not attempt to communicate with anyone, though she longed to check her social media sites. That relaxing, normal activity would be most welcome right now. She noodled around a bit and played some games, and the caretaker couple soon arrived. Marshall reappeared and made introductions.

  They were somewhere in their early sixties, Tara guessed, and both in good physical condition. They seemed comfortable with Marshall and the three joked together as they worked in the kitchen. Tara was not a gourmet chef, or much of any kind of cook, so she decided against offering her help. Besides, the kitchen was too small for four people. They were having so much fun, however, she couldn’t resist pulling up a stool and leaning on the counter between the dining area and the kitchen.