by Laura Taylor
"Hold still," he ordered, too aware of her ability to disturb the serenity of his home and arouse his body to the point of combustibility. No one deserved to have that kind of power over him. No one.
Nicholas refused to take her at her word that she was Sean’s sister, but he couldn’t allow her to freeze to death while parked in his driveway or camped out at the entrance to his property. He felt certain that she would do the latter if he decided to escort her there.
Frowning down at her, he momentarily wondered what it would be like to have such a fierce little creature committed to him, fighting for him, her searing passion and heart–stopping tenderness devoted solely to him. He breathed in sharply, body and soul hungry enough to threaten his control.
"How dare you…" Hannah began.
"I dare, so shut up and don’t move."
He kept his gaze on her as he released her and discarded his knit cap and gloves. Reaching out, he flipped a switch on a nearby wall panel. She tugged her long sweater into place and then shot him a belligerent look.
Soft light glowed behind him. As he studied her, he thought again about Sean. Too fragile emotionally to ever jostle, Nicholas had no intention of disclosing his location to anyone. Sean was under his protection. He had been for several years, and he would remain that way.
"You have got to be the most overbearing, arrogant, mean spirited bastard…" Hannah broke off, clearly stunned as she caught her caught her first glimpse of the interior of his home.
He watched her eyes widen as she scanned the vaulted–ceiling of the living room, the wall of glass that in the daylight revealed a panorama of rugged, snow dusted mountains and towering fir trees, and the hundreds of volumes that filled the floor to ceiling bookshelves, all chosen and read by Nicholas.
When her gaze came to rest on the collection of oil paintings grouped on the opposite wall, he felt satisfaction shimmer through him as he drank in her obvious appreciation of his home. He quickly smothered his response, because he still considered her motives highly suspect.
"Oh… my…" Her attention had snagged on the enormous stone hearth positioned in the center of the room. Crafted of native stone, it was beautiful and functional.
"What’s wrong now?" he asked.
She gave him a blank look. "Nothing."
"Try again," he ordered.
Lifting her hands, she made a sweeping motion with them. "It’s magnificent. Your home, I mean. I saw the plans, but I couldn’t even begin to imagine the end result. I don’t understand how you…" Her voice trailed off.
Nicholas experienced a surge of pride, but he tempered his response with an ingrained caution that was as instinctive to him as breathing. "You’ve seen the architectural plans for my home?"
She nodded absently, but she didn’t bother to meet his gaze. "You had to file them with the county in order to get your building permits. I noticed you used a corporation instead of your own name, but that stuff’s not too difficult to research if you’re motivated. I must admit, finding you took me a bit longer than usual. Lots of left turns thanks to a series of dummy corporations."
His gaze narrowed as she edged past him and into the spacious living room. Awe was etched into her features, surprise deepening the green of her eyes.
He didn’t block her path. He knew he could stop her whenever he felt compelled to do so. In truth, he was too busy considering her admission that she’d penetrated a complex series of front companies that stretched across the globe, as well as encryption techniques and various firewalls designed by a renowned hacker.
Her thorough research alarmed him, and he tracked her progress as she wandered deeper into the room. When she skimmed her fingertips along the uneven grain of the hardwood wall and then over the high back edge of a burgundy leather couch situated before the fireplace, he wondered what it would feel like to experience her touch gliding over his naked flesh.
Nicholas groaned in the silence of his mind. Desire kindled within him. He quickly clamped down on the images flitting through his mind, forcing himself back to her comment that she’d investigated him. He couldn’t fathom the reason for her candor. Was she clever enough to try to disarm and distract him with a partial truth in order to gain access to his world?
"You have an extraordinary home. I’ve never seen anything like it."
Nicholas moved up behind her with the silence of a puma making his way through the forest. As if sensing his presence, she turned to look up at him. Her unguarded expression revealed an array of emotions, but curiosity seemed to dominate.
"You designed every bit of this, didn’t you? Few people possess that kind of talent or the courage to create something so unique. You must be very proud of what you’ve accomplished, Mr. Benteen."
He shrugged, unwilling to allow her to charm him from his wariness and irritation that she’d disturbed his world. Perched high atop the side of a cliff, the house represented the privacy and serenity he’d long desired. Nicholas thought briefly of his attempt to create a retreat that he could defend with a minimum of manpower. Until Hannah Cassidy’s arrival, he’d felt certain he’d succeeded.
As she returned her gaze to the wall of windows, he recalled the exact moment in which he’d promised himself that he would never again feel like a caged animal. A shudder ripped through him, and then another. He loathed any reminders of the months he’d spent as a prisoner after his capture by Middle East terrorists. Or of the fact that he’d been the only one who’d survived the torture and deprivation. The other five—all friends—had been executed, their beheadings recorded and broadcast across the globe. It had been Sean Cassidy who’d led the rescue effort to save his life.
At that moment, Nicholas resented the woman who had provoked a resurgence of those dark memories. It took conscious effort to clear the past from his mind, but he managed. Then, he studied Hannah.
She smiled, but it was an oddly tentative smile. "You must have a remarkable view of the mountains during the day."
Nicholas shrugged. "I like it."
"You don’t seem like the type of man who would…" She looked away, scanning the spacious room again. "Never mind, it’s not important."
"Go on."
Hannah gave him an unwavering look. "I’m not afraid of you."
"A smart woman would be." He exhaled. "You can’t figure out how a man like me could design and build this place, can you?"
She shook her head in denial, but he saw the truth in her eyes. Aside from a few close friends, no one realized that he fed his soul with diverse creative endeavors. How else would he have survived the death and destruction he’d endured? But would he ever be able to do anything more than endure and survive? he wondered.
"Why did you bring me inside?"
"Explaining your frozen corpse on my land would be a problem with the local authorities, and I tend to solve problems with as much efficiency as possible."
"Couldn’t we call a truce?" she asked quietly. "I’ve driven more miles during the last few days than I want to count, and I’m tired. You’ve already admitted you’re tired." His silence prompted her to keep talking. "I’ll go back to my van, and then we can talk in the morning when we’re both calm enough to have a civil conversation. I promise to leave once I get the answers I need. I believe that you’re trying to protect Sean. Why, I don’t know, but it isn’t necessary to protect him from his family. We love him, and we’d never harm him."
"You’re going to bed." Despite the alarm that flared in her eyes and stiffened her body, Nicholas reminded himself that fear was still his weapon of choice with Hannah Cassidy.
"I am not!"
He moved swiftly. She looked stunned when he grabbed her arm and tugged her down a long hallway.
She struggled to free herself. "I refuse to have sex with you."
Nicholas drilled her with a disdain–filled look and muttered an earthy word. He paused before the open door to a tastefully decorated bedroom. "I don’t recall expressing any interest. You’re too skinny, and you nev
er seem to know when to shut up."
She wrenched her arm from his grasp. "Go to hell!"
"I’ve already been there, and more times than I can count," he muttered, more to himself than to Hannah. He pushed her forward, his expression menacing enough to draw a frightened glance from her. "This is the guest bedroom. I’m offering you the hospitality of my home since the temperature will likely drop well below zero tonight. You’ll be leaving first thing in the morning. Is that clear enough for you?"
She shook her head. "Not until I find Sean. I know you can help me."
"Your success or failure in locating Sean Cassidy is your problem. I’m not involved, and I don’t intend to become involved. I suggest you remain in your room. I don’t like people wandering around my home unescorted. If you need anything during the night, use the intercom. I’ll hear you."
Hannah exhaled, and some of the rigidity left her limbs.
Nicholas thought she looked uncertain, even vulnerable. Was this another variation on her innocent act?
"Why are you being so unkind?" she asked.
"I told you. I tend to deal with problems in an efficient manner."
Her temper flared. "Quit calling me a problem! I’m just a woman who’s searching for a brother I haven’t seen in fifteen years."
"Good night, Ms. Cassidy."
"I will not give up until I find Sean."
He crossed his arms over his powerful chest, leaned against the doorframe, and gave her a hard look. Hannah stepped back, uncertainty in her expressive features despite her brave words.
"Are you finished?"
Instead of answering him, she asked, "What kind of life have you lived that you feel the need to be so suspicious of me? Why can’t you believe that I just want to know how to locate my brother? Sean is needed at home. Two people in town were sure they’d seen a man who resembles him, and they said you’d know how to find him. Despite how you’re behaving, I believe they spoke the truth."
Nicholas ignored her questions and comments. "Good luck and good night." He started to turn away.
Hannah reached out, placing her hand on his arm. "Wait, please. I don’t want to fight with you."
He flinched, although he found pleasure in the gentle press of her fingertips. Withdrawing his arm, he glanced back at her. "As a general rule, I don’t wage war against women or children."
"Then help me."
"You’ve convinced yourself that I know how to find him."
"I’ve come to a logical conclusion, and we both know it. Look, wouldn’t it be simpler if you just tell me what you know about Sean and let me be on my way?"
He carelessly drove his fingers through the thick dark hair that capped his head as he contemplated her. During those very silent minutes, he promised himself that he would know the complete truth about Hannah Cassidy. A part of him, he realized, wanted her to be as genuine as she seemed.
She took a hesitant step toward him. "Please answer me, Mr. Benteen."
"You should know by now that nothing in this life is simple. Nothing."
There was that sound of ground glass again. "Why?" she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "I must find him, so why can’t this be simple?"
Nicholas shrugged. He refused to respond to the emotion welling in her eyes, although a part of him longed to offer her comfort and the refuge of a warm embrace. As he stood there, the urge to console her grew inside him, nearly exploding like unstable dynamite. He knew better than most people the danger of offering comfort to a stranger.
He also sensed the risk inherent in even touching this woman again, because he doubted that he would ever be the same if he allowed her access to his emotions. "Don’t ask why," he finally suggested. "You wouldn’t like the answer."
Nicholas turned and walked away from her, spine rigid, fists clenched as he fought the urge to claim her. He longed to lose himself in what he felt certain would be the sweet, hot, healing passion of her body, but he denied himself for both their sakes.
As he stalked down the hallway, he didn’t look back. He paused only once when he heard the slam of her bedroom door, but he forced himself to continue walking. He’d provoked her anger and frustration, but he derived little pleasure from the realization that he’d behaved with all of the ingrained instincts of a cold–hearted bastard.
Alone in the master suite, Nicholas could not sleep. Instead, he grappled with the desire that ravaged his body for a woman he barely knew. And he periodically glanced at the motion–sensor installed in the wall opposite his bed. He felt almost fatalistic as he waited for the inevitable to happen.
** ** **
After she locked the guest bedroom door, Hannah inspected the guest suite. She calmed down enough to realize the good fortune of being able to sleep indoors, even if she still felt uneasy about the motives of her host. After shedding her clothes, she took a warm shower.
She slipped into a man’s white silk shirt that she found hanging in the closet and crawled into bed. Weary to the bone, she closed her eyes and waited to fall asleep. But sleep refused to come. Instead, Nicholas Benteen dominated her thoughts, despite her repeated attempts to cast him from her mind.
His behavior confused and infuriated her. Cold and heartless one minute, and then oddly vulnerable in the next, he was unlike any man she’d ever known. She understood his determination to protect Sean’s privacy, although she didn’t yet know why. She even respected his loyalty to her brother, although it still represented a major roadblock in her search for him.
Hannah shivered, recalling how she’d wakened to find him crouched over her in the rear of the van, the sharp–edged blade he’d waved in her face, and the terror that had gripped her. She also remembered his ability to control his physical power and the unexpected tenderness of his touch.
His intent had been to frighten, not harm her. She loathed his methods, just as she knew her anger with him for using such tactics against her was justified. She wanted—no, not wanted—she needed to understand the reasons for his behavior.
Then, Hannah wondered if he realized she’d caught fleeting glimpses of pain, loneliness, and hunger in his eyes. All too familiar with haunted eyes of abused children, she pondered who or what could have wounded a man like Nicholas Benteen deeply enough to make him retreat from the world.
Cowardice? Hardly. There wasn’t a cowardly bone in the man’s body. Self–preservation? No. Protector? Yes, she thought. For reasons she didn’t understand, he had appointed himself as Sean’s protector. But, why?
Hannah turned over, punched her pillow a few times, and snuggled beneath the comforter. She tried willing herself to sleep as the minutes ticked by on the clock beside her bed, but the tension caused by her confrontation with Nicholas Benteen, her concern for Sean, and the gnawing emptiness of her stomach, the result of missing both lunch and supper that day, refused to abate.
When her stomach growled for the fifth time in as many minutes, Hannah flipped back the quilt, climbed out of bed, and approached the bedroom door on bare feet. She ignored the intercom as she unlocked the door and stepped into the dark hallway. She was certain she would earn her host’s ire if she disturbed him, so she skimmed her fingertips along the wall as she moved quietly through the darkness.
She decided she could locate the kitchen with a minimum of effort when she abruptly ran out of wall and stumbled to a stop. Hands extended in front of her, Hannah cautiously stepped into the living room. She spotted the fireplace in the center of the room, thanks to the few remaining live embers beneath the grate, so she kept moving forward.
What she didn’t see, however, brought her to a dead stop and sent fear skittering down her spine. Hannah let out a squeak of surprise as she plowed straight into nearly six and a half feet of solid muscle and warm, hair–roughened skin. She instantly leapt back, but capable male hands shackled her wrists and jerked her forward.
She managed to stop herself from slamming into him, but only because she stiffened her arms and stopped her own forward momentu
m. Her open palms flattened against the wall of his chest, a too sturdy surface that made her think of steel encased in heated silk.
She gritted her teeth, her senses reeling as she registered the flex and flow of solid muscles and the seductive warmth of his skin. She trembled as he held her firmly in place. And even though she couldn’t see his facial expression in the dark, she knew Nicholas Benteen was furious with her.
He muttered a low, grit–filled word. She flinched and tried to duck to one side, but his grasp on her wrists didn’t ease. If anything, his hold tightened.
Feeling faint, Hannah told herself that she was just hungry. And once he knew, he might even offer to feed her. This was about hunger—for food—and nothing else. She didn’t want to have sex with the man, she wanted food. Liar, her conscience shouted. She swayed against him, unprepared for the scorching need that suffused every centimeter of her body as wave after wave of heat rolled off his large frame and slammed into her.
"Hannah?"
She moaned, closing her eyes in the aftermath of the way he said her name in that low rough voice of his. She breathed shallowly. She felt as though she’d been running wind sprints for the last hour. Her nerves tightened into knots, her throat closed, and her brain short–circuited.
"Hannah?" This time he sounded irritated.
"Yes?" The word slowly spilled out of her as she lost her battle for perspective and poise. If anything, her senses heightened and she just grew more aware of him—the heat emanating from his body, the sound of his steady breathing, the alluring scent of his skin—as he towered over her in the dark living room.
"Explain yourself."
Her fingers flexed against the wall of muscle. "I’m hungry."
He swore.
Hannah carefully withdrew her hands. She wanted to blame him for rattling her emotions, for making her want insane things that would only cause more problems between them. But she didn’t. She’d never been a coward, and she didn’t plan to start acting like one now.
"I was looking for the kitchen. I haven’t…"