"My holographic table worked good, huh?" Keely yawned and swayed as Ren put her down to mount the snowmobile.
His arms immediately came around her to hold her up. "It worked great, baby. Trey, help her get on behind me."
Ren's brother picked her up and placed her on the snowmobile, guiding her arms around Ren's waist. He took the rifle bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Hold onto Ren, sweetie."
She nodded and curled her fingers around the front placket of Ren's survival suit. She buried her face in his back, the down fill as soft as a pillow.
"Are you secure?" Ren's low voice vibrated through her body even as his voice came over the headset.
"Yes. Let's go." She rubbed her cheek against his back. "Will you hold me when we sleep tonight?"
"Nothing could stop me."
"Good." She drowsed in a state between half-asleep and half-awake or she might not have made the next admission. "I haven't slept well since Argentina. I don't ever want to sleep alone again."
"And you won't have to." His words followed her into a deep, cold darkness.
*
"Trey," Ren entered the inner room of A5 and placed Keely on a low divan, "set up two of the air mattresses, would you? And sock up the heat."
Trey moved to adjust the thermostat. "Why not three air mattresses?"
Ren heaved a sigh. "Because I'm sleeping next to her. You have a problem with that?"
"What's the deal, Ren? You playing with that little gal—or are you serious?"
He turned from loosening Keely's survival suit and glared at his brother. "Why do you want to know?"
"Fuck, Ren, why would you think? She's Tweeter's sister. You don't mess with a friend's little sister. You'd emasculate any fucker who did that with our baby sister."
Ren let out a harsh breath. Trey didn't want Keely for himself. God, he'd never been jealous before—it was a bitch of an ugly feeling. "I'm serious. Okay?"
"How serious? In case Tweeter asks me."
"Tweeter already knows, as does his family."
"But I don't and neither do the other men on Sanctuary."
A valid point, and one he would clear up as soon as they got back to the Lodge. No one would touch Keely and remain on Sanctuary. "Ring-on-finger-a-passel-of-kids-forever serious, is that good enough for you?" He glared at his brother. "Now, shut the fuck up. Our voices are disturbing her."
Trey lips twisted into a smug smile. "Ass. I knew you had a come-to-Jesus meeting with the Walsh men in Boston after the warehouse…” his brother's mouth thinned and something deadly swept over his face at the mention of Boston “…but I wanted to hear it from your lips."
Ren pushed back the images of the seedy dockside warehouse, the implements of torture, the metal table with restraints, the blood, Keely's blood, on the table and the concrete floor…no, he wouldn't go there. Only knowing Keely was safe in Idaho with her brother, Quinn and Scotty watching over her had gotten him through the two days they spent in Boston with her father and brothers following up on her abduction after the failed search for Trujo. The resurrected images made him want to kill someone—and Keely needed only tenderness from him now.
"Trey…just fuck it."
"God, I'm sorry, Ren…it's just what we saw…I can't forget and Keely needs…”
"Yeah, I know. Keely needs love and gentleness. And, damn, Trey, I'll do my best to make sure she never has to…aw, shit, you know."
"Yeah. And I'll protect her with my life, brother. You can count on me."
Ren nodded. He gently finished undressing her, making sure none of the dark emotions brought forth by the heinous images came through his touch. He left Keely's leggings and sweater on. No way was he stripping her, even down to her ski underwear, with his brother in the same room. Not only would she be embarrassed, but he didn't think he could handle his brother looking at her body in the form-fitting Thinsulate layer. He used her snowsuit as a blanket until the bed was ready.
Trey had one air mattress blown up and winter-weight bedding laid on top of it. "Get your and Keely's bed made. I'll make some broth and hot chocolate. She needs fluids and sugar."
"Thanks." Ren leaned over and shook out the flannel sheet for the air mattress, then layered another flannel cover and added a comforter. All the amenities of home. "I'll wake her to eat when the food is ready. She got like this in South America. I can feed her if she doesn't wake up all the way."
Trey stopped preparing the food and turned, an incredulous look on his face. "You fed her in South America?"
"I cared for her completely, with Tweeter's help, for almost two full days and nights. She was really out of it." Ren shot an affectionate look at her motionless form. Her color was better now that the cave was heating up and her breathing was even. "She takes on too much, and then just peters out. Tweeter told me she tends toward hypoglycemia. Plus, she's just so damn tiny and delicate. She's not built for the kind of fighting she's been doing." He forcibly shut a mental door on the memory of the warehouse as it threatened to come to the forefront of his mind once more. She was safe, here, with him. He repeated the phrases like a mantra until he could contain the rage.
Trey turned from preparing the food. "She may be delicate, but she took out those bogies like a professional sniper."
"She is a professional sniper." Ren smiled at his brother's look of shock. "She attended Sniper School. I'm still waiting on my DVD copy of her Hell Week experiences." He chuckled as his brother choked on his hot chocolate. "Yeah, I had the same reaction, but the Walsh twins took me aside before we left Boston and told me all about that—and some other things."
"What other things?"
Ren grimaced. "They threatened to cut my balls off with a dull knife if I hurt their sister."
"That's when you told them you were serious, I bet."
"Damn straight." A murmur and a little groan had Ren hurrying to Keely's side. "Hey, sweetheart, you okay?"
She blinked at him and smiled. "Fine. Hungry. Not so cold. Nice…cozy." She yawned, closed her eyes, and snuggled into the snowsuit he'd covered her with. "Sorry. Tired. Sore."
Trey walked to his side and stared at Keely. "She's out of it, isn't she?"
"Uh-huh." Ren scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed he'd made for them and tucked her in, pulling the down-filled comforter over her. He stroked a finger over her still-chilled cheek. "Baby, can you eat for me?"
"Sure." Her eyes remained closed. "Hold me."
"On my agenda. But first you have to eat for me, okay?" He brushed a kiss over her lips. Her tongue came out to touch his mouth. He shuddered. Such a small touch and he was hard as a rock. "God, Trey, I've never felt like this before. She slays me."
She smiled and murmured at his words, but didn’t open her eyes.
His brother clapped him on the back. "About time you found someone. You've always been too much of a loner. Now, feed your woman. We all need to rest. Tomorrow will be a long day dealing with the Sheriff."
"Not worried about that." Ren stood and stripped to his ski underwear, then walked to retrieve a tray loaded with cups of broth and hot chocolate, sorted through the utensil drawer and found a straw and added it to the tray, then took it back to where Keely lay. "Dan will accept our story, plus those assholes were loaded for more than hunting wildlife. Never saw so many illegal automatic weapons in my life."
He slipped into the bed with Keely and pulled her onto his lap, making sure to keep the comforter tucked around her small form so she wouldn't get chilled. "Shove the tray closer to me, would you, Trey?"
His brother did, then knelt next to them. "Need any help feeding her?"
"Nope." He took the cup of hot chocolate and took a sip. Perfect. He grabbed the straw and stuck it into the cup, then prodded her mouth with it. "Sip, Keely."
Her lips took the straw like a baby taking a bottle and she sucked as he held the cup for her. "Want some soup, baby?" She shook her head and kept sipping the chocolate.
"You weren't kidding." Trey lay on his side on his air mattress next to theirs. "Just like feeding a baby."
"She's used to it." Ren tugged on the straw as Keely hit bottom on the chocolate and sucked air. The straw released from her mouth with a little pop and a hiccup. "Tweeter told me when she was little and sick their mom would feed them this way. Hand me the broth." Trey shoved a cup of broth closer to Ren's hand. "Another straw and she'll drink this also." He tasted the soup to make sure it wasn't too hot. "Drink it, sprite." She frowned and shook her head. He nuzzled her forehead, placing tiny kisses above her delicately shaped red-gold brows. "Come on, baby—for Ren."
She sighed and parted her lips and let him place the straw inside. She sucked a few sips, then let the straw fall from her lips and turned her face into his neck. A full-body shudder preceded her going boneless in his arms.
"She's done." Ren kissed the top of her head, rubbing his cheek against her curls.
"God, you really are in love with her, aren't you?" Trey took the cup from him.
"Yeah."
"Does Keely realize that you’re a Neanderthal and you'll smother her just like you did our sister?"
"I'm not going to smother her, just protect her."
Trey laughed. "She doesn't need you to protect her. She does a pretty good job on her own."
"Who cares what you think, turd?" Ren resorted to the nickname he'd given Trey as a kid.
"Butthead," Trey replied. "Night."
"Night." Ren smiled. He put his cup on the tray and ordered the lights to low. He shifted Keely until she lay on her side next to him and he could curl around her, her butt snuggled against his hard cock. He anchored her with one arm over her waist and his other under her pillow. She sighed and melted into his body. "Sleep tight, sweetheart." He brushed her cheek with a kiss and closed his eyes.
* * * *
Whimpering and moaning woke him from a dream of him and Keely on an island, naked and making love in a hammock. Her thrashing of arms and legs had him ordering lights on. "Keely. Baby. It's okay. You're safe." The sounds she uttered as she begged the men in her nightmare to stop hurting her made him want to kill. "Sweetheart, shhh. It's Ren. I've got you."
"What can I do?" Trey's low, concern-filled voice came over his shoulder.
"Nothing. She works through it in her subconscious and I hold her. Eventually my voice and touch gets through."
"She's dreaming of Boston, isn't she?"
"Yeah."
"Ren?" Keely opened her eyes, tears streaking down her cheeks. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about, baby." He kissed the tears from her face. "You want more hot chocolate?"
"Uh-huh, if it's no trouble." She snuggled her head under his chin, her fingers clutching his shirt.
"No trouble at all, Keely." Trey got up. "I'll make you a cup."
"Thanks, Trey." Her lips moved on Ren's throat, causing him to swallow and wish his pesky cock would behave. Keely needed gentleness, not a horny man poking her with his dick.
"Want to talk about the nightmares?" He stroked her back with the same soothing circular motion that had worked in South America.
"No." She shook her head, her hair tickling his chin and catching in his beard growth.
"It might help."
"I'll deal." She patted his chest. "Thanks for caring—and holding me."
"My pleasure. Here's your chocolate." He pulled her to a sitting position and took the cup from Trey. "Thanks, bro. Here Keely." He handed it to her. "Got it?"
She nodded and held the cup with both hands and took dainty sips, pausing to lick the marshmallow foam from her mouth. He silently groaned, wanting her tongue licking him anywhere she wanted. He'd promised her family not to pressure her—and after seeing the hellhole she survived, he’d promised himself as well. She needed a slow courtship and time to heal.
When she finished the cup, she handed it to Trey, who'd hovered on her other side. His brother would help him protect Keely, as would Vanko and Price, who had also seen what Keely had survived. Nothing bad could ever be allowed to hurt or touch her again. His heart couldn't handle it.
Chapter 9
Next morning
"KEELY." Ren pulled the snowmobile up to the front porch of his home. "Go in and take a bath—rest. I need to deal with the aftermath of the battle."
Trey had left before the two of them awakened, returning to the main compound to arrange for the collection of the dead from the previous evening's fight and to deal with the Sheriff until Ren got there. Ren, as a Special Deputy Sheriff for Idaho County, specializing in terrorism, would have to deal with the authorities.
"Will I have to speak with the Sheriff?" Keely's green eyes were dull from too little sleep and too much stress. The look of resigned acceptance on her face pierced his soul. She'd done what she had to do, but it drained her physically and emotionally. He'd like to keep her away from such situations in the future. All he wanted was to wrap her in comfort and security and protect the hell out of her. Realistically, he knew, as Trey had intimated last night, they'd call upon her again. She was one of the best snipers he'd ever seen. His brother had contacted him before Keely had awakened and reported that every single one of the men she'd taken out at over twelve hundred meters was a kill shot to the head.
"Ren?" She touched his arm. "Will I have to talk to the authorities about all the men I shot?"
"No, baby." He pulled her into his arms and stroked her back. "I'm a Special Deputy. The Sheriff is ex-Special Forces. He knows what SSI does. This isn't the first time we've had dead bodies at Sanctuary from a firefight." He pulled back and saw her worried gaze. "I'm betting each and every one of those dead men were mercs." And he'd also bet that they would have either criminal military charges or civilian criminal records. Honorable men did not trespass armed to the gills.
"I'll work on that if you can get me fingerprints or photos. Plus, those two who came up on my nest…?" He nodded his encouragement. He wanted to hear her theories. "I don't think they were part of the group in the valley."
"We'll find out." It was unlikely there were two separate groups attempting to invade Sanctuary at the same time, but it was always a possibility. It was one he wasn't going to overlook; Keely's instincts had been batting a thousand since he met her.
She stroked one hand down his stubbled cheek. "Thank you."
"For what?" He turned his head slightly and kissed the palm of her hand.
"For holding me last night." She lowered her lashes. Her cheeks pinkening. "I really do like sleeping with you. It makes me feel…happy—and safe."
Holding her made him feel more than happy—it made him content. There was a sense of rightness in the act of holding her while she slept. He just wished he could take away her nightmares. "Aww, baby. You were so restless and moaning—and crying." He kissed one hot cheek. "I…I…wanted to soothe you but wasn't sure what to do."
"You did just fine, big guy." She wiggled away from his arms. "Now, I'm going to soak in your big-ass tub and then go over and eat one of Scotty's huge omelets. After which, I will go to the Bat Cave and look at the data searches I had running on the terrible trio—as Tweetie and I have named our suspected spies."
"Keely," he held onto her arm so she couldn't turn to leave. "Take a nap. You didn't get much rest, and I'm worried you still have a fever."
"I'm fine, Ren. Really. I'll rest when you do." She forestalled any further lectures by turning her back on him and climbing the stairs to his contemporary version of a log home.
"Keely?"
She stopped at his door and angled her head to look at him. "Yes?"
"We detoured by Boston and, along with your dad and brothers, packed up what was left of your stuff. Well, it's not much…uh, the boxes are in the great room. I think there's some girly bath stuff and the like in there."
Keely's face lit up. She ran down the steps and leapt into his arms. He held her to him and reveled in the j
oy crossing her face.
"Thank you. Thank you." She peppered his face with kisses. "That was so considerate."
Too quickly, she dropped to her feet, ran up the steps and into his house. He wiped a silly-assed grin off his face. God, she made him happy—and whole. Once he took care of business, he'd grab Keely and they'd take a "nap," where he'd begin the sensual wooing of his little warrior. A more sexual smile crossed his face at the thought of a naked, sweet-smelling Keely in his big bed. He'd taken the liberty of smelling all her girly bath stuff as he packed it—the scents were warm and musky and had made him hot.
He groaned aloud at the thought of how she'd taste as he kissed her from her tiny toes to the tip of her curly head. He knew what she looked like naked from taking care of her night and day in Argentina. At the time, he'd filed away the images of her creamy white skin, her full rosy-tipped breasts, and the golden-red curls on her mound. He'd have been a foul monster to lust after her while she'd been so sick. But now, every treasured image resurfaced in living color—and he could hardly wait to revisit her body, this time healthy and alive for his touch.
But first, he had business to take care of. He had to protect Keely from any consequences of her skilled defense of Sanctuary and its people. He mounted the snow mobile and headed for the Lodge where he knew Sheriff Dan Morgan would be waiting to sort through the mess the intruders had brought with them. Dan wouldn't give him any trouble, but the county commissioners were another matter. He and Dan would need to put together a report that demonstrated that Keely had saved the lives of innocent—and tax-paying—citizens. He'd have Tweeter start on the background searches on the dead intruders. The sooner they could show the invaders were not law-abiding citizens, the better.
* * * *
After her vanilla-scented bath, Keely examined the contents of the packing boxes—all five of them. The cretins who'd trashed her townhouse hadn't left her much: some bath items, some cosmetics, some books, and miscellaneous things she'd packed in a storage unit the intruders either hadn't known about or didn't have the time to invade. All her clothes were gone, every blessed stitch. She'd need to go back to Boise or Couer d'Alene and hit a mall and supplement the few items she and her mama had picked up on the trip to Sanctuary with Tweetie over a week ago.
Eye of the Storm Page 14
