Dan replied, "Thursday."
“Thursday? He could’ve been the sniper.” Price's anger boiled over. "Why in the fuck did her brother just call her about it tonight?"
"Aidan didn't say. And he knows about the sniper on Saturday…"
From his fucking Marine buddy Trent.
"…so maybe you should ask Aidan that," Dan suggested.
"Damn straight, I will." Price flexed his hands and forced himself to turn his anger down.
Chapter 6
Tara stretched and then began her early morning two-mile run. The air was crisp and cool. Typical for Spring in Missoula.
Normally running let her shove her worries aside. But not today.
Her instincts were screaming, but there was no obvious danger that she could see. The smokejumper track was wide open and empty but for her.
Maybe it was just nerves that had all her senses working overtime. The talk her brothers had with Miller hadn't worked. He'd cornered her in the locker room last night and asked her out again.
She wasn't looking forward to approaching her brothers again. But she would, and they really needed to take her seriously this time. The situation was getting out of hand.
Her muscles warmed up, she lengthened her stride and sped up. Something stung her neck. She barely touched whatever was sticking in her skin before she felt herself falling…drugged. Blackness.
She awakened slowly. Groaning she tried to reach for her aching head but couldn't. Heart racing, she tugged at her wrists, her ankles. She was tied to a hard surface. Then she realized she was naked.
"Hey, squaw," a familiar male voice spoke from the darkness at the edges of wherever she was being held. "Bet you wished you'd accepted my invitations to date now."
Then the pain began.
Tara screamed and fought whatever was holding her.
"Shh, firefly. It's okay. You're safe now." This male voice was different than the other one. His touches were gentle, caring…no pain. This man she trusted. She sighed and relaxed, falling into sleep.
But the nightmares wouldn't leave her alone.
She was in a darkened parking lot this time. Not Missoula. She was in Idaho. Music drifted on the night air, sometimes louder than others. She wasn't alone in the lot. The crunch of gravel. Someone was walking…no, someone was stalking her.
Then her stalker turned and walked toward where the music was. She followed.
She tasted it first, copper on her tongue, then she smelled it. Blood. Lots of blood. She followed her nose and saw her. Maisie, lying like a broken doll, tossed like a piece of trash on the lot's gravel surface.
The surface undulated. The parking lot vanished.
This place was dark and smelled like rot. Tara lay, chained to a wall, surrounded by other bound women. The lapping of water against the boat's hull was only broken by the moaning and cries of the broken women. The sound of men's boots on the deck. The splash of bodies as they were dumped in the water. Soon they would come for her.
"No!" Tara screamed. "No! I got away."
Motion from her left had her diving in the opposite direction. She had to find a weapon. They weren't going to hurt her again…or kill her like…Maisie and the others.
A pain in her side had her gasping and falling back onto a soft surface, one that smelled good. Smelled familiar. She turned her nose into the pillow and let the scent soothe her.
"Tara, it's okay." It was the trusted male voice, not the other one. "Firefly, Horner can't hurt you now."
Tara opened her eyes. "Horner? Who? No, it was Miller. Steven Miller." She looked at the man hovering at the side of the bed. Pain, understanding, fear, and something else in his eyes that warmed her and penetrated to her very soul. It looked a lot like love.
"Price?" She lifted her hand to her aching head and winced. "Ouch."
Oh, yeah, now she remembered. She'd been fighting Brown-and-Brown in Ma's lot. She refused to think about Maisie, her nightmare was still too close. Later she would mourn the woman—another one she hadn't saved.
You are not omniscient or omnipotent or even Captain Marvel. Get over the guilt.
Would be nice. Tara moved to find a more comfortable position and zigged when she should've zagged. She gasped. "Son of a bitch, that hurts."
"Take it easy. The wound was deep enough that Fee had to stitch you up. So the area is still swollen. Do you want me to get Fee? Are you in pain?" Price looked her over, worry for her creasing his forehead. "Tell me what you need. I'll get it for you."
And he would—he was a caregiver on top of being a protector. She'd learned that much about him over the last month from observing how he interacted with others and from what his sister and the other women had shared.
"I'm…" Lying very still, she assessed her pain level. "…it's bearable. The guy who cut me, who killed Maisie, his name was Horner?"
"Yeah." Price fluffed her pillows, then pulled the covers back up to her shoulders. Sitting in a chair by the side of the bed, he added with a smirk on his lips, "First name of Billy Ray."
"Of course it was." She managed a grin, then frowned. "I remember giving Dan a statement before everything went lights out, but don't recall him telling me the bastard's name. Does this Billy Ray have a record? And why Ma's?"
Why had this freak hit on her? Did she have a sign on her back saying "Hurt me, rape me, kill me"?
"Guy's driver's license and title info in his truck shows he's from Wyoming. Dan's got a deputy checking into any priors now." Price grunted. "God, firefly, one second you were telling Dan what happened and the next you were unconscious. Scared the shit out of me."
Tara heard the fear. It was still in his eyes. He hadn't let it go yet. She needed to keep Price talking about facts, for both their sakes. She had the impression he was also reliving those last moments in the parking lot when she was fighting and losing. She recalled the feeling of relief and elation when Price, roaring like a maddened beast, had lifted Horner off her and tossed him aside. She shivered at how close she'd come to being—
Nope, she wasn't going there. "Did you promise to teach me about how to fight from the ground?"
"Yeah. Once you're healed. Me and the guys will teach any of the SSI women who want to learn how to defend themselves if some asshole puts you on the ground."
"Good. That's good." She sighed. "Could I have some water? Pain meds always leave a taste in my mouth, no matter how they're administered."
Price stood and picked up a glass with a straw in it. Helping her to sit, he held the glass for her as she brought it to her mouth. She took several long draws and sighed. "Thanks." He helped her lower back to the pillows, then resumed his seat, placing the glass on the night stand.
Tara looked around. The bedroom, with its taupe, cream, and dusky blue color scheme, was all masculine. It was sparsely furnished with the huge iron tester bed, two small side tables, and a large screen TV on the wall directly across from the bed and above a river rock fireplace. There were built-in shelves on each side of the fireplace which held only video equipment and speakers.
And that was it. No chest of drawers. No comfy seating area. Both of which there was more than enough room for—and something she'd add if it were her bedroom. The room was set up for sleeping and basically nothing else.
"This isn't a hospital."
"It's my house," Price said, hesitancy in his tone.
That's what she'd suspected. So the next question was—"Why am I here?"
"That talk we were going to have after Saturday?" he said.
"Yes, but you had to leave on an emergency security detail," she said. "Fee told me. So you get a pass. Did everything go smoothly?" She eyed him from head to toe and didn't see any injuries, but not all injuries were always visible.
"The client overreacted a bit, but in the long run, she was probably right to call us." Price shook his head. "I should've asked Ren to send Vanko or one of the other operatives, but the client asked for me in particular. She has a stalker."
Tara stiffened. "She? Stalker?" She wasn't sure what bothered her the most—the fact Price's client was a woman or that the woman was being stalked. She'd call it a draw.
"Can't talk about who she is, but the stalker was already known to us and he was in the vicinity. She was afraid to leave her hotel and go to the airport. So I went, escorted her to our jet, got her home, then came back to Idaho. Successful mission."
"Is she safe…in her home?" Damn, her voice wobbled. The nightmares were still too close.
"Yes, she's safe, firefly." Price's voice was gentle and understanding. "I wouldn't have left her if she hadn't been. Local law enforcement are keeping a lookout. She has live-in help, trained in personal protection, but hadn't taken them on this trip because of reasons I can't go into, but were practical. She's not careless. Eventually the stalker will cross a line and he'll go to jail."
"That's good." Tara turned to look at him. "Why did you have me brought here, píítaa? It was you that insisted, right?"
"Yes." He took a deep breath, blew it out, then leaned forward and took one of her hands in his. He stared at the scrapes on her skin and winced. He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed each cut.
"Price? Do you like me?" she asked.
"Yes." He raised his gaze to hers and she inhaled. "I more than like you, but I was trying to bide my time. Let you get to know me. But Saturday…tonight…" He shook his head and looked at her hand still in his. "I needed you here, where I could look after and protect you."
"Okay." She smiled at the top of his head. "I like you, too. I've been waiting on you to ask me out. Why didn't you?"
Price's head jerked up. His eyes held shock. "You do?"
She nodded, a grin on her face. "Yep, and like you, it is more than liking. Now answer my question."
"You held all the men at arm's length. Talk was you didn't date at all." He shrugged and began to play with her fingers. "I sensed…you didn't trust men very much."
"Well, your instinct was correct." She turned her hand within his and gave it a squeeze and then held on. She liked his hands, they were big, competent, and oh-so warm. Hers were always cold. "Did the others tell you about what had happened to me in Montana?"
"Dan told me tonight." Price brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her fingertips.
"Dan?" she asked. "Not the others?"
"Nope. The gals told their men, and their men kept their confidences. Ren knew and merely told me it was bad, since I shared why I hadn't asked you out."
Tara snickered. "Were the guys teasing you about not asking me out?"
"Yeah. I have a reputation," he grimaced, "though it's much exaggerated. But when I did date, I moved fast and the relationships such as they were fizzled out just as fast. So, my going slow with you, when they knew I was interested, had them razzing me."
"I heard about your rep," she jiggled his hand, "I was beginning to wonder what was wrong with me that you hadn't even asked me out for a beer, away from the other guys, that is." She looked at him shyly through her narrowed lashes. "I like being with you—even in a crowd."
Price let out a sigh of relief that was so loud, Tara giggled. He grinned and she swore his cheekbones reddened.
"Tara?" Price hesitated.
"Yes, píítaa?"
He frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It's the Blackfoot word for eagle," she said. "It's how I think of you—my píítaa."
"A bird of prey." Price nodded. "That's good. Your píítaa will protect you from Miller. I wasn't here to keep Horner from hurting you, but I damn well promise to be around to help take Miller down."
"I can protect me," she reminded him. "But I wouldn't refuse backup. I miss having a team at my back. The Forest Service is nothing like the Air Force."
"Consider me your backup, and you do have a team," he told her. "Every one of the SSI operatives would go to war for you."
"Why?" She angled her head. "I'm not related, and if we're just starting this dating thing—we are, aren't we?"
"Damn straight, we are."
"Then why?" she asked.
"Because you protected Fee. That made you part of my and Trey's family." He placed her hand on the bed and leaned in to place a kiss on her lips, just a light brushing. "And you're mine, if you want to be."
His kiss was too brief. She'd only gotten a mere taste, but it went straight to her core, warming her from the inside out and giving her a peace she hadn't felt in years. She wanted, needed something good, something right after what had happened.
"More." She licked her lips. "Kiss me again, píítaa."
Price smiled and it was as if the sun had come out. He left his chair and sat on the side of the bed and gently pulled her up, being mindful of her wounded side, and into his arms. He watched her closely as he lowered his mouth to hers.
"You okay?" he asked against her lips.
His warm breath whispered over her mouth and made her shiver with anticipation.
"Yes, kiss me. Show me how much you like me," she said.
"If I did that, I could hurt you," he muttered. "Let's start out nice and easy."
"You could never hurt me. It's not in you." She rested her forehead against his. "I know who's here, holding me as if I were a piece of precious porcelain. I knew you even in my nightmare. I smelled you and it calmed me. Kiss me, Price. Show me how you feel."
Price took her mouth. He began slowly, tasting and licking her lips, but deepened the kiss when she tasted him back, touched her tongue to his. He groaned and she swallowed the sound, feeling the vibration throughout her body even as he thrust his tongue inside her mouth and began to claim the territory as his own.
Still, he was holding back, she sensed his hesitancy.
Tara raised the arm on her good side, then threaded her fingers through his shaggy dark blond hair and held his head to her as she nipped his lower lip. "Don't hold back. I don't break, píítaa. My píítaa."
"Fuck yeah, yours." Price deepened the kiss, combing his fingers through her hair as she'd done his. Then he ate at her mouth, making love with his tongue, giving her his breath, even as he took hers.
Tara knew this man was hers, if she wished. Her one man, just as Keely had Ren, Fee had Trey, DJ had Tweeter, and Vanko had Elana. All she had to do was reach for him.
When she twisted to get even closer, she mewled at the back of her throat. Price lessened his hold and broke off the kiss.
Like the eagle she called him, Price looked her over with a sharp eye, then checked the gauze Fee had taped over the wound. "No blood. Thank fuck. We'll save that kind of kissing until after you're healed. Now, let's get you comfortable." He fluffed the pillows behind her, then gently lowered back against them.
Fluffing failed. The pillows were hard as rocks. Comfort in a bedroom, and especially in bed, was always a necessity as far as she was concerned. She looked around the room. Good bones. Nice colors. But besides softer pillows and more luxurious bed linens, Price could use more furniture and some decor. He made that Japanese gal who decluttered people's homes look like a slob.
"Do I need to get Fee?" Price hovered, a concerned look still on his face.
"Nope." She couldn't stand the worry on his face. "I forgot I was wounded. Your kiss went to my head." And elsewhere, truth be told. She couldn't recall the last time she'd been aroused by a kiss. "I like how you kissed me. A lot. And I want to do it again, also a lot. So are we dating now?"
Price sat on the edge of the bed and took both her hands in his. "Yeah, we're dating. I want you to move in with me—"
Really? She opened her mouth to say that aloud, but he cut her off.
"If that's moving too fast, I want you to move to the Lodge or Trey and Fee's house. Fee offered. And I know the others were going to ask you to move here for safety reasons after Saturday, because that cabin is not safe and too isolated. Any of those options are good." He stopped caught a breath and squeezed her hands gently. "Just consider any of those options, please?"
He cared
enough about her to want her to move in? Happiness flooded her every pore. Yeah, they'd have to feel their way to a physical relationship, but his kiss and her reaction to it indicated they had chemistry. Whoa boy, did they.
Before Miller had entered her life like a wrecking ball, sexual desire had been elusive. The few lovers she'd had while in the Air Force had been nice, but the sex unmemorable. At the time, nothing had been sexier than the feel of the engines shooting her into the sky. The smell of JP-8. The clear blue sky edging to black as she gained altitude and shot for the stars.
After Miller, the infrequent sex she'd had with metro-sexual types had been her way of proving Miller hadn't destroyed her. Her partners were nice, but blah. She liked strong men like her father, her brothers, and like Price and the other SSI men.
Sexual intimacy with Price, she predicted, would be far above anything she'd ever experienced. Even flying.
Opening her mouth to tell him she'd love to move in with him on the condition they got new bed pillows—she'd bring some decor into his life gradually so as not to traumatize her píítaa—someone knocked at the door.
One of the double doors cracked open and Ren peeked his head around, "Good, you're awake. Dan's here. Come out when you're ready. Scotty sent over food and Fee has been cooking in your kitchen."
"Be right out, Ren," Price said.
Ren nodded, then shut the door.
"You need any help getting up and dressed?" he asked. "You're only wearing one of my t-shirts, um, Fee and Lacey dressed you." He looked a bit embarrassed. "I didn't look, I promise."
"I know." She touched his arm. "You're honorable."
Price grinned. "Well, not that honorable, because I wanted to look." She laughed. "You're welcome to any of my clothes. There are sweats, other shirts, my robe, well, anything you can use in my closet. Oh, and socks are in the top drawer in the built-in chest. Your uniform was ruined."
And it was evidence. She didn't expect to see it again. Didn't want to see it again.
"Price—" Her stomach growled. They could have the housing situation talk later. She waved a hand in the air, erasing what she'd been about to say. "I'm starving and could really use something to drink besides water."
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