by Aliyah Burke
Text copyright ©2015 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by CP Publishing. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Dare To Love Series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of CP Publishing, or their affiliates or licensors.
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Icy Dare
By
Aliyah Burke
Blurb for Icy Dare
Sometimes the most passionate heat resides behind walls of ice…
Dorian West puts down the bottle when a request comes in from a man he respects more than anything to help find a woman running scared. Agreeing, he discovers, she is one he could spend a lifetime getting to know and still not unearth all her secrets. Hard to when she hides behind an icy demeanor. He does have one way to get her to thaw out…
Sakharre Myers is on the run. Her brother plays on defense for the Miami Thunder and she is tired of being used to get closer to him. After one relationship turns dangerous, she hightails it out of Miami. Despite her mistrust and attempts to get away from the man named Dorian there isn’t any way to ignore the sizzling passion between herself and this man sent after her.
Stress and fear can accelerate a relationship and then the question becomes, will it last once everything settles down? Will they have a chance together or will Sakharre once more retreat behind her walls of ice?
Dedication
Many thanks to Yvette Hines, you my friend, are a treasure and I’m so grateful to call you friend!
To DH, thanks for understanding that by taking on a new story it means less time we spend together. And for keeping the pups occupied so I can hit deadlines, Love you!
Carly Phillips and her readers, thank you so much for allowing me to dip my toe into this world she’s so lovingly created. I hope y’all enjoy my story.
Chapter One
Dorian West took notice the moment his target entered the dive bar, gaze sharp and focused on her, though he remained slumped in his seat. Target? Retrieval? Mission may be a more apt word. Why else would he be in this dank establishment, sitting in the back, waiting for a woman he’d never met? His only intel on her was that she worked here, and even that wasn’t to be completely trusted. But, as she entered, he knew the information was on point, and she was the only woman who worked here.
He shifted in his seat, flexing scarred fingers along the green glass bottle. It called to him to finish. Followed by a dozen of its closest friends. But, when the call came from Tyler Dare to ask him for a favor, Dorian could withstand the lure drink had held over him for so long. Tyler had saved his ass when Dorian had first joined the Army. In fact, that man had been integral in his future in such a way of him changing his career focus and joining the Rangers. Bottom line, he owed Tyler. If that meant drying out to functioning capabilities, he’d do it.
Expelling a sharp breath, he sipped the Heineken, briefly closing his eyes to enjoy the brew. According to what Tyler—who was now the owner of Double Down Security—sent Dorian’s phone, Sakharre Myers started her shift in five minutes. He’d been looking for her for nearly a month now and was pleased this lead had panned out. For obvious reasons, she wasn’t using her real name, so it had taken him a bit to track her down.
What type of woman worked in a place like this? The customers were a mix of everything. The women were as rough in appearance as the men. The guys had already broken up three fights, and Dorian had only been there twenty minutes.
He ran over what he knew one more time. Louis Reiss was defensive tackle for the Miami Thunder and a damn good one, or had been at time of his recruitment. Lately, his focus had been off, and Coach Carter benched him for lack of concentration as well as poor performance. According to Tyler, Louis had said his sister was being stalked and in danger, but he couldn’t get ahold of her to bring her to his place for safety. Coach had gone to the owner, who’d gone to the president of the Miami Thunder, Ian Dare, who, in turn, had gone to his brother, Tyler. Which led Tyler to Dorian since he was out of state, as well. Not to mention he didn't have a business to run like Tyler did. It was easier for him to up and go.
“Why doesn’t she go to the cops?” he’d asked Tyler.
“According to her brother, the man has ties to the law enforcement community.” The derision in his tone was easy to pick up on.
“Where is she?” Tyler could ask anything of him, and he would go. .
After being given a potential locale, he’d ended the call and gone directly to his closet to grab his rucksack, pre-packed as was his habit. He scanned his apartment, turned, and headed off to find his way up to Seattle, Washington.
He didn’t like bullies. Never had. If they hid behind a badge, all the worse.
He returned his attention to Sakharre. She wore a dark khaki shirt with some band name on it, worn jeans, and a pair of black boots. Her dark brown hair—dye job—was drawn back in a loose ponytail. His heart kicked harder in his chest as attraction bloomed.
He stared at her expression, noting the tautness around the corners of her mouth. Stressed. Tired. Scared.
Sure, she hid it well, but he picked up on the telltale signs.
“Afternoon, Carla,” one patron said.
Carla?
“Starting early today, Walter, I see.”
“Wife’s family is at my house.”
She gave him a smile, an understanding and real one. “So, you’ll be here ‘til closing, then.”
“At least,” he replied. “You know I’d sleep right here.”
“Sorry,” she laughed. “Boss frowns on that.” She walked behind the bar and got to work.
Dorian watched her do her job. Polite. Engaging and making tips. Yet she still maintained a distance. He doubted the others saw it. Her tells were tiny, and most of the customers there were drinking heavily.
He finished his beer and pushed away from the table. She was the only bartender working the growing crowd. Didn’t seem to faze her. Finding a spot along the bar, he waited for her.
“What’ll it be?”
He looked into her eyes and promptly forgot what he was going to say. Christ, all I can think about is tying her to my bed and keeping her there. Lust had hit him the moment he’d spied her in person; she had something about her, the picture hadn’t been able to convey. Now, face-to-face, it broadsided him like a full frontal assault.
Her jaw clenched, pupils dilated, and her nostrils flared. He got to her, as well.
“Did you want another drink?”
He tore his gaze from hers and stared at her hands. One rested on the counter while the other attempted to strangle the towel. He showed her his empty.
With a nod, she retrieved another and removed the top before setting it before him. “Four-fifty, please.”
He fished out the money and handed it to her. She swiftly made change, all the while taking more orders. Dorian retreated back to his spot in the back.
The crowd swelled and thinned. She remained the only employee aside from the man who’d designated himself the keeper of the peace in there and tossed people out. He’d even had his own share of business. Despite his own desire to drain this bottle, Dorian nursed it.
After last call, more people left until he remained with another six, the self-appointed bouncer, and his sexy bartender. Her lush curves had Dorian’s palms itching to trace them, learn them, and memorize them.
The door opened, and a man strode through. Dorian had left his seat before it even regis
tered. His reaction purely based on hers. Whoever this man was, he scared her. Dorian couldn’t specify what she’d done to alert him, but something had and it kicked his protectiveness into overdrive. Even so, she didn’t cower or show her fear. Not that others picked up on for no one else reacted.
“Thought I’d see you home tonight, Carla,” the man stated.
“Not necessary,” she responded, barely sparing him a glance.
“I think it is.”
Dorian leaned against the bar rail and set his bottle on the top. “It’s not,” he said, inserting himself into the conversation.
“Fuck off, man,” the man snapped.
Dorian wasn’t impressed by the posturing. Not at all. He slanted a glance to her before placing all his attention back on the man. He stepped closer and, in a second, had the man’s hand at an awkward angle as the ass was on his knees, pain encompassing his features.
“The lady said it wasn’t necessary. I’m telling you to leave her the fuck alone before I begin removing body parts.”
“Let me go,” he begged.
Behind the bar, she watched with wide eyes, shock, and confusion.
“Come here,” Dorian ordered with a jerk of his head.
She maneuvered around the bar and walked up to him, waving off the bouncer who had begun in their direction. “Yes?”
“What do you want me to do with him?”
She cocked a brow. “Do?”
“Yes, do. Let him walk out or throw him out? Your choice, but he’ll never”—he growled—“bother you, again.”
“Let him leave. I can’t have you throwing all my patrons out bleeding.”
Dorian released him and slid closer to her. Damn it all, his fingertips burned to touch her. Caress. He watched the idiot stumble as he scrambled away.
“Who are you?” she whispered the query, keeping it between them solely.
He thought about how best to tell her. Another two men left, and the others stared at them. Dorian snaked an arm around her, drawing her flush against him.
It wasn’t fair. The press of her curves reminded him he wasn’t dead but a man who’d been away from women for a long time.
“Yours,” he replied, capturing her mouth with his.
For a brief moment, she was stiff then she melted into him, allowing him to hold her up. A moan slipped up from her throat and hit him with steel and iron.
He drew on her tongue, sliding his other hand to her back before it trailed down to cup her ass. She wound her arms around his neck.
His surroundings faded away as his focus lasered to her. Her taste flooded into him. She tasted of peaches, sun-ripened and picked at the peak of perfection. With a groan, he drew back and stared down at her. Brown eyes swirled with desire as they widened with realization as to what just happened.
“Something you want to share?”
He flicked his gaze to the speaker, the bouncer.
“Oh my God,” she muttered. “What did I just do?”
“Kissed me back.” Dorian cupped her face, his cock rock hard and pushing against his jeans.
“Carla?”
“I’m fine, Joe.” She touched her lips, trembled, and sighed. “Fine,” she stated.
“Yes, you are.” Dorian wanted her against him once more. “Let’s go.”
Wariness crept in her gaze. “Go?”
“I’ll explain it all as we go.”
“I don’t know why you think I’m going anywhere with you. The kiss wasn’t all that.”
Blow to the ego. “Really?” He lifted her chin. “Perhaps we should test that theory.” Before she could say anything else, he kissed her, again. He swept through her mouth, his hunger for her insatiable. As before, her tongue came out to duel with his. They stroked, slid, and rolled along one another.
This time, he pressed her against his groin as he held the nape of her neck with his other hand, possessive. Proprietary.
When she flexed into him, hands gripping his shirt, he ended it.
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself.” Christ, he could hardly think straight.
From the dazed look in her expression, he reckoned the effect on her was similar to his own.
“Damn.” She unfurled her hands from his shirt and stepped back. His hand on her neck prevented her from further retreat.
“We have to talk,” he informed her.
“About what?”
“Your brother sent me, Sakharre.”
Fear slammed into her gaze, and he lowered his head. She stepped back, breaking free of his grip.
“I’ll be done in a minute or two.”
“I’ll be here.”
He observed as she returned to behind the counter. Dorian ignored the stares of those remaining and watched the woman who now went by Carla.
αβ
Insides trembling like a leaf in a storm, Sakharre made short work of finishing up. She shooed the stragglers out and said goodnight to Joe as she washed tumblers.
“You sure you’re okay with him? I’ve never seen him before.”
“I’ll be fine, Joe, thanks.”
“Who is he?”
She flipped the towel over her shoulder. “It’s complicated. Our relationship is something I’m still trying to figure out myself.” That’s not a lie.
Not true. I know he’s fine and can kiss.
Placing a rack of glasses back, she stole a surreptitious glance in his direction. Hell, I don’t even know his name. Whoever he was, he stared at her from where he continued to lean against the wall.
Hard bodied. Intense. Hot as all get out. His gray-blue eyes were sharp and took it all in. Not law enforcement, but military perhaps. Despite her mistrust, there wasn’t any denying the passion between them. Even before he kissed her. Or was it she kissed him? Either way, she’d experienced him on a visceral level.
She gripped the tray and regrouped. Flights of fancy weren’t anything she had time for. Keeping her head down and blending in had to remain her focus.
Emptying the till, she tallied up the take for the night. Once the envelope had been secured away in the safe, she faced her lingering visitor.
Damn! Her core temperature kicked up a few thousand degrees. He pushed away from the wall and prowled toward her. Each step brought him closer, and she bit the inside of her lip—hard enough to draw blood—and tried to reason why Louis would have sent someone.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Joe appeared to her left, keeping himself between her and the stranger. After that kiss is he truly a stranger?
“She’s fine.” The words were delivered on a pulse of confidence.
“Let her answer,” Joe rumbled, the globe and anchor tattoo flexing as he crossed his arms.
Posturing males. “Thanks for checking, Joe. I’ll be fine.”
He gazed between them once more, pinned a warning glare on the newcomer, and left.
She gestured to a booth and slid across from him. A glance to her right wrist, and she yawned. Rude? Perhaps. She was tired, and if patterns were true, the ass would be out there waiting for her. Although this jerk was preferable to the one following her all over God’s creation.
A sharp rap on the scared wood top jolted her. Intense eyes watched her from across the table. She scowled and narrowed her gaze.
“What?”
“I’m here to take you to your brother, Sakharre.”
Panic slammed her. Pulse thudding out of control, she licked her lips.
“Carla’s my name. That’s the second time you’ve used this other name. Looks like you’ve gone and gotten yourself mixed up.”
“Sure, babe. Call yourself that if you wish. I know who you are. Believe me, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I’m not a child, and I’m not going to Texas.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “He’s in Miami and is worried about you.” He shrugged. “So much so his boss sent someone to get me to bring you back, so he can stop thinking about you and focus on his job.”<
br />
“Look, me being around him is what got me my first crazy.” She shook her head. “I don’t need that.”
He reached out before drawing back. She gazed at his fingers and wondered how the scars got there.
“Doesn’t matter.”
A warning skittered across the back of her neck, and she tensed. Damn man appeared calm and unruffled. Challenge burned in his gaze as he waited.
Slowly, she rose. “We’re closed; you need to leave.”
“I leave when you do.”
“Then, go, so I can lock up.”
He unfurled his fit body from the booth, and she gulped down the desire he stirred in her. She knew the game. Her brother played professional ball—she wasn’t ever the pretty, popular, or smart one until he signed with the Thunder.
When male fans couldn’t get to Louis straight on, they’d come for her. One had turned dangerous, and so, she’d fled, not trusting his connections in law enforcement. Ditched her apartment, school, job, and ran. Something she’d been doing for months since. Almost two years, now. She used to let Louis know she was fine, but that had fallen off in the past seven months. She’d not informed him of anything.
Trust. Was this man really here to help? She wanted to trust him, but there were so many issues. She was tired. And suspicious. Overweight and not a looker, she had no delusions. However, the electricity between her and this virtual stranger threw her self-preservation instincts right out the window.
“Keep staring at me like that, and we’ll be against a hard surface getting to know one another.”
His words gave her goose bumps. The way he watched her made her feel as though she was standing before him bare as the day she was born.
“Sure. I bet you’re dying to touch me.” She walked away, her earlier lust vanishing. “Leave.”
She stared past the window, out to the night. The leaves whipping past had a moment of fluorescent luminescence before being carried along on their journey. Cold. It had been cold when she arrived and would be colder, now.
“I’m running out of US real estate to hide in,” she uttered.
Christ, she’d figured the jackass would have stopped. But he hadn’t. She’d zigzagged across the country, so much her tracks looked like a drunken sailor had gone walking.
