Chosen Prey

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Chosen Prey Page 23

by Cheyenne McCray


  “If my landlord will let me come back, my mom and I can live in the house in Bisbee,” Lyra said to Dare as they entered Sara’s room. “I make enough with my art that I can support both of us.”

  Dare cleared his throat. When she glanced at him her heart did a little flip-flop even though he wore a frown. “We’ll discuss this later,” he said.

  She blinked. What was with him?

  Lyra went to her mother and sat on the chair beside Sara’s bed. Lyra brushed her lips over her mother’s forehead, leaned back, and smiled. Despite her bullet wound and the beating, Sara was looking so much better already, younger even, now that she’d been taken away from the cult.

  “How are you feeling today?” Lyra asked her mother.

  “Just tired.” Sara managed a weak smile. “I’ll be up and around by tomorrow.”

  Sara was taking longer to heal than most people with her type of injury, Dare had told Lyra. The healing process was longer for Sara because of the trauma she’d been through—and was still going through. She’d spent eight years in a cult. The pain of that experience wasn’t going to allow her to heal for a long time.

  Lyra and her mother had spent a lot of time talking over the past six days. They had so much to catch up on. During the times Sara had been awake, they’d shared tears at the sad things that had happened in their lives and smiled and laughed at happier memories.

  Lyra had cried about feeling responsible for all that had happened, and her mother had wanted to take the blame for even introducing Lyra to Neal. But in the end, they came to terms with the fact that it all came down to an insane man and now it was time to get on with their lives.

  She’d even told her mother about the time she’d met Nick. She gave a wry smile at her description of him. A weird, paranoid neat freak. He might be a neat freak, but he definitely wasn’t weird or paranoid. He was absolutely gorgeous and cautious rather than paranoid. There must be something in his past that made him wary of being easily located.

  Kind of like herself, Lyra thought.

  What she hadn’t talked to her mother about was her growing feelings for Dare. Just thinking about him created that crazy sensation in her belly. Lyra was happy her mother genuinely seemed to like Dare.

  Dare left the room and Lyra spent more time with Sara. When her mother’s eyelids started to get droopy, Lyra stood. “Get some rest, Mom.”

  Sara smiled. “I know you have other things to attend to.” She looked at Dare, who walked into the room as she said that, and Lyra’s cheeks heated.

  Dare took her hand and led her from the bedroom, his grip warm and firm. It was surprising how much of a gentleman Dare was. He always helped her into the SUV or car before getting into the driver’s side, escorted her places with his hand at her lower back, and opened doors, allowing her to go first. He seemed to know just when she needed a hug and when she needed a little distance.

  Something that meant so much to Lyra was that Dare had gone to the home she had shared with Mrs. Yosko and retrieved all of the materials she used to create her artwork. He’d even given her one of his spare bedrooms to use as her place to retreat and work on projects while her mother recovered. It was therapeutic to create, and it helped bring Lyra to terms with her new life. It still hurt to think of the people who’d betrayed her in her life, like Becca, but Lyra could move on.

  She’d never be on the run again.

  Lyra had kept busy these past days during the times Dare left to tackle one of his PI cases or to work his ranch. She liked having a little breathing room. She’d always needed space at times, which was when she did her artwork. Besides, there was something special she’d been making for Dare.

  While they walked from her mother’s bed into the front room, Lyra studied his profile. He was so sexy with his slightly wavy short brown hair, his coffee brown eyes. He had the sleeves of his denim shirt rolled up to his elbows, and she liked to watch the play of muscles in his forearms, his long, strong fingers. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman on earth.

  Only problem was that he’d been treating her like a fragile piece of glass since he’d rescued her. She wanted more, so much more.

  He’d been so attentive. They’d talked so much, shared stories of the past and more of their hopes and dreams, and he’d helped her through the trauma she’d experienced.

  The one thing they hadn’t discussed was the two of them.

  Was there a “two of them?”

  When they reached the great room, Dare glanced at her and her cheeks heated at being caught studying him. He gave her that sexy smile of his that just made her want to dissolve into a puddle of liquid heat. It sent those butterfly sensations straight to her abdomen.

  Lyra drew in a deep inhale and slowly let out her breath.

  Dare brought her around to face him. He traced his fingers over the bruises on her face so lightly it felt like a feather brushed her skin. “Are you feeling better?” he said in a husky voice.

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Especially when I’m with you.”

  He cradled her cheeks and brushed his lips across hers. “I just can’t get enough of you, Lyra Collins.”

  She sighed with happiness. The way he made her feel—she’d never felt so loved and cared for. Not since her father died.

  This was different. So much more different.

  But if Dare didn’t make a move soon, she was going to jump him. “Hold on.” She drew away from his light kiss. “There’s something I want to give you.”

  He cocked a brow. “Lead the way.”

  Lyra took him by the hand and led him to the other side of the house and the spare room she’d been using for her artwork. On the table in the corner there were strips of metal and a few creations. But not what she’d hidden away just for him.

  They walked toward the closet and she let his hand go. Dare paused at the table and picked up the small, flat tin that she’d created long ago. He smoothed his thumb over the well-worn metal. “You carry this everywhere, don’t you.” It was a statement.

  Lyra gave a sad smile. “It’s very precious to me.” She moved beside him and took the tin, then carefully opened it. Inside the flat container, nestled in tissue paper, was a policeman’s badge.

  “Your father’s,” Dare said.

  She lightly stroked the badge with her forefinger and took a deep breath. “Eight years and it still hurts.” She closed the tin and Dare wrapped his hands around hers and together they held on to the box.

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  She reached up and kissed him lightly on his stubbled cheek. She tried to step back. Dare placed his forehead against hers, and she said, “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the feeling that it was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he said with his forehead still against hers. “Let it go.”

  She sighed, then drew back. “What about you? You blamed yourself for your partner’s death. Have you let it go?”

  Dare had given it a lot of thought during the week since they’d raided the compound and brought Lyra home. The memory of the day his partner died was still clear. But the guilt… There’d been nothing Dare could have done to save his partner. Just like Lyra wasn’t responsible for her father’s death, Dare hadn’t been responsible for his partner being shot and not making it.

  Dare met Lyra’s gaze. “I’m working on it.”

  She cupped his jaw in her hand. “We’ll work on it together.”

  They still held the tin within their clenched hands, his palms warm around hers when their lips met. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and she danced with him, loving his masculine taste and his scent of desert wind and male.

  When he pulled away and released her hands, he brushed his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “I can’t stop thinking of what he did to you.”

  “I’m fine.” She smiled. “You can stop treating me like I’m going to break.”

  “You’re precious,” he said, and brushed his lips
over her forehead.

  Lyra set the tin on what had become her worktable, next to a metal windmill created from slices of old soda cans.

  He picked up the yellow teddy bear on her worktable. “Was this from your father?”

  She shook her head. “From Mom.” She took it from him and hugged it before setting it aside. “It was the one thing small enough I could take that she’d given me. I didn’t realize just how much I missed her until I saw her again. I wanted to blame her for everything, but inside I knew it wasn’t her fault.”

  Lyra gave a sad smile. “The bear and the tin with my dad’s badge were in a small backpack I always wore before Neal took us to the commune. They’re small enough that I was able to stuff them into the pockets of my robe before he took everything away from us.”

  Dare’s features tensed, and she tried to brush it away with the back of her hand. “I have something just for you,” she said.

  She moved away from him and opened the closet door. She withdrew a bouquet-filled vase and turned back to him.

  “Roses.” Dare swallowed a lump that formed in his throat. “You stopped making them after your father died.”

  She handed the handmade vase and roses to him and gave him her sweet smile. “Now I’ll make roses for you. I hope you like them.”

  For a moment Dare couldn’t find the words to express what her gesture meant to him. Damn, even the backs of his eyes stung.

  Some of the roses were buds, while others were in full bloom. They had been designed from all types of metal, each rose a different color—reds, yellows, blues, pinks. The vase was one of her hodgepodge designs that he loved.

  Dare swallowed again and gripped the vase tight in his palms. “They’re beautiful.”

  He set the bouquet on the table and brought her into his embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered against her ear. He lightly kissed her from her earlobe to her mouth. For a long time, he just held her. She felt so good in his arms, and he was never going to let her go.

  Dare raised his head and looked at Lyra. Her face was flushed and her green eyes seemed darker than they usually did.

  “I have something for you,” he said, and she gave him a surprised look. He cradled the vase of roses in one arm and took her hand with his free one. He squeezed it, then led her out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the master bedroom they had shared over the past few days. Where he’d just held her every night, wanting more than that but waiting until she was healed. Until she was ready.

  He flicked on the light switch, and two lamps turned on, one on either side of the bed. After he released her hand, he set the vase of roses on top of the bureau and moved to the nightstand, which was the only place he could think to hide the box until he felt the time was right. This was definitely the right time.

  With his back to her, he withdrew the black velvet jeweler’s box and wrapped his palm around it, hiding it. He faced her again and she looked at him with a puzzled expression. When he strode back to her and they stood but inches apart, he opened the box and raised it so that she could see the ring.

  Lyra caught her breath and her heart lurched. She brought her hand to her throat as she stared at the diamond, her eyes wide. It was beautiful. A simple square-cut diamond that must have been at least a carat was in a platinum setting and nestled in black velvet.

  Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his. He was smiling and yet there was uncertainty in his eyes, too.

  “Will you marry me, Lyra Collins?” His voice was low and husky.

  No words would come out. She felt dazed, as if it were all a dream.

  “I think I fell in love with you the moment you shot me with that pepper spray.” He grinned, then his face went serious again as he caught her left hand in his and raised it. “Say yes.”

  Lyra opened her mouth. Closed it. His brown eyes locked with hers, and she didn’t ever want to look away. When she could finally speak, it came out in a low whisper. “Yes.”

  He grinned and took her mouth with a hard, possessive kiss. Her mind swirled. The whole room felt like it was whirling around them. Had Dare just proposed to her? And she’d accepted?

  He drew away, smiling, and withdrew the ring from the box. Her heart pumped like mad as he set the box aside and slid the diamond and platinum ring over her ring finger. The diamond caught the light and sparkled. The band was a little loose, but she didn’t care.

  Dare had told her he loved her. He’d asked her to marry him. She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his denim shirt. “I love you, Dare. I don’t know when it happened, but it just felt right, like we were meant to be together.”

  “We are.” He pressed his lips against her hair. “Always.”

  26

  Dare took Lyra’s hand and led her to the bed. Her heart raced and her thoughts spun. She was going to marry Dare. It didn’t seem real.

  When they reached the side of the bed, he slipped his fingers into her short hair that had now turned a shade of strawberry blond as the dye had faded. He cupped her head, obviously taking care not to touch her wound. His brown eyes captivated her, drawing her in and making her feel as if she were a part of him. The marks on his face from when she’d scratched him were all but gone, and his bruises had faded.

  He brought his mouth to hers and gently moved his lips as if taking his time to savor her, like they had all the time in the world. The slight brush of his mouth sent tingles radiating throughout her, even more than when he’d kissed her other times.

  The pressure on her mouth increased. Dare gently bit her lower lip and she sighed. a sigh full of longing and love and the thought of a future together with him. To be with him always.

  He slipped his tongue into her mouth. She loved the taste of him. Loved the way he explored her, lightly running his tongue along her teeth, then the inside of her cheeks. The texture of his tongue against hers added to the eroticism of the kiss. She’d never felt anything like this before.

  She returned his kiss, exploring his mouth as he had explored hers. It was a delicious sensation as their lips and tongues moved together. Her breathing grew heavier and she felt the rise and fall of his chest against hers. With the softest touch that made her shiver, he slid his hands from her hair and moved his fingers down her shoulders, then forearms, up to where she had her arms wrapped around his neck.

  He gently took her wrists and brought her hands down and linked his fingers with hers. The ring on her finger felt good as they squeezed their hands together. He placed his forehead to hers again and pressed their bodies closer. His belt buckle rubbed her skin through the light T-shirt she wore. He kissed her again, just the slightest of kisses.

  Dare released Lyra’s hands, his gut tightening as he looked down into her green eyes. She was so sweet, so full of life and surprises. Her gift had touched him so deeply that it magnified his feelings for her. He had never known what it was like to truly love a woman until he met Lyra. He thanked whatever divine powers there might be for bringing her into his life.

  He brushed her hair out of her eyes. Her lips were moist and her expression one of need and love for him. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured. “From that first moment, I knew you were special.”

  She gave a mischievous smile. “Even with the pepper spray, huh?”

  “Especially with the pepper spray.” He rubbed their noses together. “If it wasn’t for the fact that deep in my gut I knew that you were the one for me, I would have been more nervous about asking you to marry me. But hell, I wouldn’t have taken a no.”

  Lyra drew away just enough to kiss the end of his nose. “You didn’t have to ask me twice.”

  He skimmed his fingers down her sides and felt her shiver beneath his touch. He gripped the ends of her T-shirt and drew it up and over her head, with her help. He rubbed his palms over her white cotton bra and squeezed, enjoying her soft moan.

  Butterflies zinged through Lyra’s belly. He reached around her and unclasped her bra, and she promised herself she was go
ing to buy satin and sexy lingerie from now on. But like the times before, he didn’t seem to care what she wore. He was more intent on unwrapping her piece by piece.

  When he tossed her bra aside, he took both of her breasts in his hands and pressed them together so that he could flick his tongue across one to the other and back. Lyra couldn’t hold back a whimper as she clenched her hands in his hair.

  Dare released her breasts and raised his head. “I want to touch you everywhere.”

  Lyra let her expression show that she agreed by locking her gaze with his. His coffee-colored eyes looked more like a shade of espresso, they were so dark.

  He knelt and took one of her shoes in his hands and she released his hair to brace her palms on his shoulders. After untying the laces, he slipped off the shoe and set it aside, before doing the same with the other. Her socks went next. As he took off each sock, he stroked her foot from the heel to the arch, making her shiver. He removed them in such a sexy way that it made her feel like her feet were major erogenous zones.

  When he finished with her shoes and socks, he remained kneeling and slid his palms up her thighs to her waist. He hooked his index fingers in her waistband on either side of her, and his fingers caressed her belly as he brought them around to the button of her Levi’s. He unhooked the button, then unzipped her jeans.

  He was going so slowly, every movement so sensual, like he wanted to make this moment last forever. Something they would treasure throughout their lives.

  Dare slipped her jeans over her hips, down her thighs, and she braced her hands on his shoulders as she stepped out of her Levi’s. Still on his knees, he buried his face against her and she heard his deep inhale. His tongue darted out and she gasped with pleasure when she felt him through the cloth of her white cotton panties. She was definitely buying something sexy for the next time they made love.

  Just the realization that they would be making love again and again throughout their lives had her heart thumping harder and heat flushing over her skin.

  “I can’t believe I’ll have you forever,” he murmured as if reading her thoughts. He slipped his hands inside her panties and began to draw them down. “To have you, to hold you, to be with you.”

 

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