been good at noticing people, which she'd always supposed was a huge fault. Yet she'd cataloged
this creep's face not long after she'd awakened tied to the chair. Long blond hair cascaded around
his almost angelic features. His eyebrows arched over those diabolic eyes, his perfectly straight
nose and well-carved lips belonged with his amazing jawline. Tall and muscular, she guessed
him at somewhere just under twenty-five years old. His voice, when he bothered to speak, held a
husky nuance most women would find sexy. Yet within the pretty packaging, his gaze flashed
with insanity. Other than stark lunacy, one other thing detracted from his amazing looks. The
man's stinking breath wafted over her face as he leaned toward her, and she choked around the
gag stuffed in her mouth. She closed her eyes, afraid to see his craziness, then her eyes popped
open as a deeper fear arose. Darkness. God, she couldn't take not knowing what he might do
next. She must know what he planned.
"You're mine," he whispered, his voice rasping, deep and melodious, yet as sibilant as a
snake.
Then he drew his fist back and prepared to deliver another crushing blow.
Emma jerked out of sleep with a wail and a gasp, her heart hammering wildly in
her chest. She sprang upright and fumbled for the light switch.
Just as light illuminated the room, Shane sat up and slipped his arm around her.
Concern filled his eyes as he cupped her face with his other hand. "Are you all right?"
While relieved she was not back in time with the man who'd caused nightmares for
years, she couldn't shake the fear.
She took in deep breaths as her shoulders trembled and her eyes filled with tears.
"I'll be fine."
"Nightmare?"
"Bad one."
He kissed Emma's cheek and drew her into his arms, lying back on the bed and
cuddling her close. She sank into his powerful arms with a sigh. "You want to talk
about it?"
She could say no. She could pretend it didn't matter. Yet it did. She made a decision
then and there. "You've been so…forthcoming with me."
He snorted a soft laugh. "Yeah, as much as I could be. I'm sorry there are things I
can't tell you. But I've told you a lot."
"You deserve to know everything."
"I don't want you to tell me because you believe I deserve something." His voice
went soft, husky with emotion. "Tell me because you feel safe, because you trust me."
"Trust is important to you, I can see."
"Yeah. It always has been."
"Because you couldn't trust your father."
He sighed. "Very perceptive. And very true."
She snuggled into his shoulder and allowed her hand to drift down to his belly. She
traced her fingers over the definite muscle ridges. "I'm sorry for all the grief I've given
you."
His hand flowed over her hair and he kissed the top of her head. Tears surged again
as too many emotions assaulted her.
"Hey, it's not that bad," he said tenderly.
Her heart throbbed with happiness and fear all at once. "I know. But sometimes I
forget."
"You forget?"
"I think I'm back…five years ago. In my dreams."
"You dream about five years ago?"
Yes." When she tilted her head up to look at him, all she could see was his chin.
"Tell me. Tell me and then you can leave behind whatever is haunting you."
Her fingers brushed over the hair on his belly, and he shivered a little and groaned.
"Can I forget?" she asked. "I've wanted to. I've tried to."
"Some people never let go of trauma. Many do when they realize that's what they
need to move on. What's keeping you from moving forward, Emma?"
Revelation rose inside her. "My bad dreams and memories."
His arms tightened around her, and she decided she could tell him everything.
Now.
She cleared her throat. "Five years ago I was driving one night to my parents' house
a week before Christmas. I never made it." She felt his arms tighten but she continued.
Her hand rested over his pec and his heart beat firm and strong under her fingers. "My
parents live in the country. It was snowing, but not enough to make it slick or
particularly dangerous. A car came up on my butt, almost in my tail pipe. All it took
was one tremendous ram and I went off the road."
"Jesus." His voice went hoarse. "Were you hurt?"
"The car went into a deep ditch. I was wearing my seat belt, but I was knocked
unconscious for a couple of minutes. My head hit the driver's side window, so I had a
mild concussion. A man pulled me out of the car as I woke up. My head hurt like hell. I
didn't remember anything until I woke up tied to a chair."
One of his hands threaded into her hair and caressed. "God, Emma."
"He'd run me off the road, yanked me out of my car and tossed me in his truck.
When I woke up I didn't have a clue where I was."
He stayed silent, and she shifted out of his arms long enough to prop on one elbow.
Barely concealed rage filled his eyes, turning them a stormy green. He shook his
head. When his voice came, it held a genuine horror. "Tell me what happened next."
She sighed. "I don't know where…" She shook her head and closed her eyes.
His fingers drifted gently over her jaw, the tenderness unraveling her resistance one
step at a time. "Tell me."
She opened her eyes and locked her gaze with his. She saw nothing but a desire to
understand what happened, his frown hard with aching understanding.
She shivered, and he reached up to thread his fingers through her hair in a
caressing motion.
"He'd taken me to a cabin in the woods. I didn't have a clue where I was. I wasn't
even sure if it was his place or a summer place he'd broken into. He'd hauled me into
the basement." Emma's throat tightened. Tears threatened and she hastily wiped at
them. "Damn it."
"Take it slow." He sat up and so did she. The covers fell away from her naked
breasts. He scooted up to the headboard and then drew her into his arms again.
She swallowed hard around the huge lump in her throat that seemed to grow larger
by the minute. She closed her eyes to help her recall. "The room was semi-dark. There
was a gag in my mouth. Ironically, the guy was one of the most handsome I'd seen."
She described him in detail, from his golden blond hair, to the evil green of his eyes.
"For hours he abused me."
With soft attention his big palm caressed her upper arm. "Abused how?"
She heard the thick anger in his voice, and part of her wanted to reassure him. Yet
the comfort of his arms provided her with everything she needed right this minute.
"He beat me methodically for several hours into the night." She kept her eyes
closed and allowed that night's pain to return. It couldn't be helped. No matter what, if
she wanted to acknowledge what happened and tell him, the harsh pain would be
there. "Unfortunately, I'd run across a serial rapist passing through the state. I was his
twelfth victim."
With a slow movement, he turned her face toward him and tilted her chin up so he
could look in her eyes. Vulnerability and undeniable pain carved his expression and
mixed with simmering rage. "He raped you?"
"No. He didn't get the chance. I complained about the ropes around my wrists
and
ankles being too tight. He actually took them almost all the way off, which really
surprised me. I guess since he'd cracked a rib by that time, and I was dizzy, he figured I
was acquiescent enough. It was around four in the morning by that time. Maybe he
thought he'd sleep and then come back to me fresh. After he'd rambled on and on about
how juicy I was going to taste and how I was going to…going to love his cock inside
me, he flopped over on this cot in the corner and slept.
She shuddered and turned away from Shane's assessing look. After a short pause,
she continued. "I was so pissed that I wanted to hit him with something. I knew that
could be fatal. I hurried to the basement door and found it unlocked. I crept out of the
house." Shane's arms tightened, and she pressed her face against his shoulder. After a
deep sigh, she went on. "I ran into the woods. It was so damned cold…somewhere in
the fifties. That doesn't sound too bad but I was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Since I
had no idea where I was, my rib was cracked, and my head hurt, I wasn't doing too
well. I just knew I had to run as far and as fast as I could."
"You ran with a cracked rib?"
"Yeah. I didn't feel it much at first. It felt more like a stitch in my side, if you can
believe that. As the sun came up, I had a better understanding of direction. I decided to
let intuition take me where it would. It probably saved my life. I stumbled around for
hours. I worried that the man who'd kidnapped me would somehow find me, and that
pushed me forward. I found a paved road and a trucker was coming down this pass. I
flagged him down and he called 911." Again a shiver passed through her frame, and
she realized Shane brushed his hands continually along her shoulder and back. "I was
in the hospital for a few days after it happened. Based on the information I gave them,
they caught the bastard. That's when I found out he'd raped women up and down the
Western states for a four-month period. I was lucky as hell he didn't decide to rape me
first."
She pulled out of Shane's arms and watched his expressive face. Darkness filled his
eyes and turned down his mouth. "Son of a fucking bitch." He clutched his hands into
fists. "I'd like to kill the asshole."
She gave a half-smile. "Believe me, so would I. It didn't go to trial though."
His gaze sharpened and his brows lowered. "What?"
"The genius died of a weird genetic blood disorder. He'd always had weird violent
tendencies since he was young, but apparently finding out he was going to die pushed
him toward worse behavior."
"Christ. That's not an excuse for him to rape and beat women."
"No, of course not. That's the excuse his family gave for his behavior. Authorities
found him dead of the disease one morning when the guards checked his cell."
"The motherfucker deserved it," Shane said with sharp syllables. He lifted her hand
and pressed a kiss to it then kept it tucked into his big hand. "I can't imagine what
you've gone through."
"I sometimes remind myself the women who didn't escape him fared worse. And
all of them came out of the situation alive just like me. If he'd been a serial killer it could
have turned out deadly. I was lucky overall." She pushed one hand through her hair.
Concern lingered on his face. He traced patterns over the back of her hand, and the
gentle touch sent reminders of lingering passion winging through her system. "What
did your parents do when they found out you'd been attacked?"
"They'd already called the police when I didn't show up at their house, and the
police had found my car. It was one of the few times they showed me much concern.
But even after that…they didn't act how you'd expect parents to do. When they came to
the hospital, they didn't hug me or cry or express what they always called excessive
emotion." Two more tears found their way out and rolled down her cheeks. "I guess
they'd cried all they could when my brother died. They had nothing left for me."
Shane's head tipped back as he closed his eyes. "Fuck."
"Yes." She smiled and laughed.
His eyes snapped open. "What's so funny?"
"I don't think I've ever heard you curse so much in a short time."
His mouth turned up at one corner in a crooked smile. "You weren't around me
when I first worked for the agency. I had trouble with `potty mouth' as my mother
called it. She was always trying to train me out of it."
Emma allowed the hand that wasn't trapped within his to drop to his thigh, where
she traced his muscles through the sheet that covered him to the waist. He opened his
eyes and pinned her with a sorrowful look.
"I've had trouble with men and dating since the attack. It's just been a little hard
learning to trust again," she said. "I knew after the first month of waking up afraid of
the dark and with nightmares that I needed help. I went to a therapist and she helped
me get a grip on things."
He opened his eyes. "No wonder you were twitchy with me at first. Did I remind
you of that asshole who attacked you?"
She shook her head. "Not you specifically. You're just an intense man, very strong
and somewhat intimidating. It made me cautious."
"It didn't help that I growled at you more than once, I'll bet. Forgive me?"
"I'm the one that should apologize to you. I shouldn't have let my past mark my
future by accusing you or getting defensive. I should have looked at you as an
individual." As she slipped back into his arms again, she smiled softly and whispered,
"I'm here with you and there's no place I'd rather be. I'm done with nightmares. I want
to start fresh."
"Then start fresh with me, right this minute," he said huskily.
And he drew her into a ravenous kiss.
* * * * *
Shane listened to night sounds as he trudged back toward the house, flashlight in
hand. An owl hooted somewhere in the pine trees, and he thought he heard the howl of
a coyote in the distance. The night air felt crisp against his shirtsleeves. Even in the
summer the mountain nights could be cold.
He'd awakened with the urge to check the immediate area around the house.
Everything appeared secure, and he sensed no danger. His instincts had never failed
him before. As an SIA agent he'd lived by intelligence, wits and determination.
Intuition reinforced these qualities and gave him the stamina he needed to survive a life
of skullduggery.
He didn't want that anymore.
He'd found something more precious than he'd ever imagined with Emma, and he
determined that once Wilder's killers had been apprehended, he would leave the SIA
again and see if he could restart the life he'd found before the Shadow Realm invaded
again.
Back at the house, Shane paused. He took in a deep breath of the cool, thin air. He
leaned against the side of the house next to the front door and wished he'd brought out
a lawn chair. Too content to worry about something so inconsequential, he ignored the
idea. Instead he gazed at the stars in the inky sky, and part of him wished he'd left the
ranch days ago and had taken Emma with him.
Earlier that evening the phone had wakened him from a deep sleep. The SIA had
pulled information on Hank Reddins. N
othing indicated the man was anything other
than what he appeared. He'd been an officer with the Gambit Creek Police Department
for a year and a half and before that, an officer in Detroit for fifteen years. He'd served
in the army as a mail clerk for four years. He'd been born and raised in Victor,
Colorado. Nothing extraordinary about the man.
After that information, Shane had resisted the idea of returning to the bedroom and
lying next to Emma. He smiled. Fuck, he was horny. If he climbed back into the bed
with her, he'd wake her up and fuck her for a fifth time. They'd been like freaking
rabbits, coming after each other again and again.
So he found himself on the porch, absorbing the night, with his Glock at the ready.
After Emma had revealed her painful secret to him, he'd realized that more than
ever, she was all that mattered to him. If anyone had told him a few short weeks ago
that he'd be making love with a beautiful woman and falling for her in a week, he
would have laughed.
His armor had been strong then. Tough. Impenetrable. Somehow, with her
combination of gentleness and strength, Emma had destroyed his barriers.
Yes, he needed her, but she needed him too. Not just as a protector, but as her lover.
His heart ached and he admitted one mind-blowing fact to himself.
If anything ever happened to him, she had to know. He loved her.
He stiffened when some branches rustled in the wind.
A prickle of cold ran across his skin as he scanned the area. Immediately a spike of
unease rolled up his spine and covered his body.
It was all the warning he got.
The gunshot whizzed by, barely missing his ear. Shane ducked, crouching down,
realizing the porch had no cover. He returned fire. Shane thought he heard a gasp of
pain but couldn't say for certain.
Another gun blast came from the darkness. He had a millisecond to react, but he
felt the slap of the bullet in his right shoulder. Impact lifted him off his feet and
slammed him without mercy against the side of the house. He fell unceremoniously
onto his left side. For a few seconds he felt no pain, nothing other than a numbness in
his shoulder and arm, and anger rushing through his system. Then agony rushed
through his arm and his breath left him, lungs paralyzed by pain.
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