by Cate Masters
“The surgery’s over,” he said. “Taz survived. For how long, I can’t say.”
The surgery. Taz. Sitting up, she came eye level with Eric, who crouched beside her. Weariness helped fade his earlier jaggedness. Some interior struggle added to his embattled appearance.
She’d deal with it later. “Can I see him?”
“He’s still unconscious. It’s best if you let him rest.”
Nodding, she held her head. Cold rain pelted against the window. The storm still raged.
“Do you have a ride home?” he asked.
She stopped to think a moment. She’d carried Taz here after finding him on the side of the road, whimpering. Such an awful sight. Sobs shook her shoulders. “Sorry. I keep seeing him, lying there in the mud. In such terrible pain.”
Roughness edged his soft voice. “He’s strong. He has a good chance.”
Panic struck. A good chance? Doctors only said it to cushion the blow. Taz must be dying. “Oh, God.” She held a hand to her mouth, unable to stop the tears.
“Hey. It’s okay.”
His hands at her shoulders surprised her. His strokes along her neck and cheeks were like flames along her skin.
Whispering, “It’s okay,” he drew her against his chest.
Memories whirled through her head, his warm body against hers. She needed him to hold her, and encircled her arms around his neck, her tears wetting his shirt. His soft murmurs into her shoulder calmed her hiccupping breaths. When he grasped her and held her away, she didn’t release him.
Dragging her lips across his cheek, she whispered, “Don’t let go.” Thoughts flew away in a whirl, like the leaves in a storm.
Stiffening, his hands splayed along her waist.
She nuzzled her cheek against his, fingers entwined in his hair. So soft, she wanted to lose herself in him.
With a ragged breath, his hands moved across her back, his lips along her neck, the spot that drove her wild. When he pressed closer, she relaxed her legs open. His mouth sought hers, and he slid her against him with one quick pull, caressing her thigh.
The power of his primal movements sent a thrill through her, even as her mind argued against it. The Mark flared bright on his skin. Something haunted him, and he desperately needed release.
She needed release too. She didn’t want to think, but let his touch carry her to another place where worries didn’t matter. Where she only knew their bodies moving together. He tugged away her clothes as she wrestled off his, wanting her skin against his. His urgency heightened her passion. She pushed away his drawstring pants and wrapped her legs around him, needing him inside her.
The storm lashing against the window lent a dreamlike quality. With the crack of lightning, his face flashed in the darkness, alternating pleasure and pain.
Desire blanked out thought, and she moved with his thrusts, meeting each with equal force, power flowing between them, washing over them. His heavy moans reached inside her, and she clutched him closer, wanted him deeper, wanted it not to end. When he finally shuddered and gripped her, The Mark had nearly disappeared.
She still moved against him, needing that final release. His groans and murmurs coaxed her to it. Legs wrapped lazily behind his, she stroked his hair, and nuzzled his neck. She didn’t want to lose this wonderful sensation of drifting in space, with nothing but each other. Finally, she stilled, clinging to him.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
“Yes.” She wanted to ask him the same thing, but he probably wouldn’t know how to answer.
His caresses became awkward. “We should get you home.”
“Right.” Sooner than she would have liked. Reluctantly, she dropped her arms, searched for her shirt and pulled it over her head.
After tugging up his pants, he stood, T-shirt already covering his head and with one yank, over his chest. Glancing everywhere except at her, he raked a hand through his hair. The other hand absently went to the spot over his ribs, the glow returning, along with the tortured look in his eyes.
God, what had she done? This only complicated matters. And what about Taz? Would he be in any danger from whatever evil possessed Eric? Worse would be to move him in his weakened condition. She’d have to trust Eric’s protectiveness would override whatever haunted him. Tomorrow, she’d ask Gram for advice, and if they could help him.
“I’ll give you a ride,” he said.
“No, I can walk.” Thunder growled across the sky.
“Don’t be silly. I’ll drive you. I just need, uh, shoes.” He rushed through the door.
“All right. Thanks.” Dropping her head into her hands, she moaned. Of all the stupid things to do. Stupid but incredible. No fair that the best guy in bed in her life was him.
You weren’t in bed.
Even worse, she argued with herself.
The footlights in the breezeway highlighted the contours of his chest as he jogged back. “Ready?”
Rising, she tossed her hair back with a flick of her head. “Yes.”
He strode through the dark room, clicked open the lock, and held the door.
Driving rain hit her before she crossed the threshold. She followed him to his SUV, where he opened the door. She scooted inside. When he ran to the driver’s side, she wondered why he’d never remarried. Any number of women she knew would snap him up in a hurry if he’d given one iota of encouragement.
After climbing inside, he revved the engine. “Some storm.”
“Yes.” Already reduced to discussing the weather. Ah well. What did she expect? Flowers? Besides, she’d conveniently forgotten about Sheree. Joss couldn’t expect Eric to pretend. Why had she let herself act so weak?
They rode in silence until they reached the inn driveway.
“Is that your car?”
“Yes. I stopped to get the mail and…” She bit back a sob as it hit her again. If she’d only shut the door, Taz couldn’t have escaped.
“I’ll be right back.” He jogged to the driver’s side and got in, and then quickly got out again, and returned to his truck. “Must’ve run out of gas. Here are your keys. I locked it. I’d take care of it now but I’m exhausted.”
“You don’t have to.” She didn’t want his pity, or misplaced obligation.
He flinched and shifted into first. He braked again near the house. “I’ll let you know how Taz is doing.”
“Can’t I visit him?” Was he banishing her from the property?
Strain sounded in his tone. “Of course. Come as often as you’d like.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked.
“You mean today?”
“What?”
“It’s two AM.”
Mortified, she stammered, “I had no idea.” For some reason, the offense seemed double. He rose early for his practice. Before she could apologize, he said, “Good night.”
Gathering her purse, she scrambled out with a quick “good night,” then paused to add, “Thanks for everything.”
A slight nod of his head might have meant acknowledgement or confusion.
“I meant,” she hastily added, “everything you did for Taz. Not…never mind.” Before any other embarrassment flew out of her mouth, she ran inside.
What an awful end to an awful night.
Chapter 11
The storm had long passed when Eric stepped inside the waiting room. A tumultuous pulse seemed to roil within. Her tangible essence hung there. That she’d clung to him didn’t surprise him. Most people needed comforting in such situations. That she’d asked him not to let go triggered a powerful surge he couldn’t hold back. It would have been like holding back a flood with a mesh screen. Despite the insistent stab to his flesh, pushing through the pain brought him to a place of relief. Because of Joss.
Every moment they’d shared came back vividly. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him again. Weariness prompted him to move, finally. After one last check on the dog, he stripped and fell into b
ed. For a long while, he stared at the ceiling.
After knowing her touch again, he craved more. Every muscle ached for her. Fighting against the pain, acid rose, stinging every pleasant memory away. It began the instant she’d nestled against him. Images of glistening red lips in a scowling face framed by platinum hair misted in his mind, trying to blot out Joss’s face. An invisible hard nipple had seared past his ribs. It had almost caused him to push Joss away. Instead, he’d tightened his grip. If he’d rejected Joss, the need for Sheree would have claimed him, and he’d have driven in an instant to be with her. No, Joss’s touch excited him even more than before and calmed the wound Sheree had inflicted.
The strain of his pain warring with pleasure caused him to pull away too soon. Aside from Sheree’s haunting image, being with Joss was natural. Right. Even driving her home—such a simple act, taken for granted by too many—seemed intimate. Yet the small pleasure, too, was robbed from him. Every wonderful sensation was matched by a piercing sting.
Despite only having a few hours sleep, Eric awoke with renewed vitality. She’d visit today, and he’d see her. It would be worth whatever pain he endured.
* * * *
The morning sun taunted Joss, a painful reminder of the day before. If only she’d kept driving instead of stopping for the mail. She should have paid more attention to the danger in the air. To her own instinct. For too long, she’d dulled her extrasensory perception, and now Taz paid the price.
And what about Eric? She had no clue how to ease The Mark torturing him. Until moving here, everything in the other realm she’d assumed was out of her life forever. Now the very ground roiled beneath the inn.
Glad no customers had checked in, Joss shuffled into the kitchen in her robe.
Annie whooped. “Hey, look what the cat dragged in.”
Joss couldn’t prevent the well of emotion from bursting forth in a sob.
Rushing over, Annie held her arms. “Oh honey, I was only teasing. What’s wrong?”
Trying to control her blubbering did little. “Taz. He was hit by a car yesterday.”
Annie gasped. “Oh, no. Is he…”
“No. At least not when I left him.” Her lip quivered. “Dr. Hendricks amputated his leg. I don’t know how he’ll survive without it. He’ll hate me.” She plopped onto the stool.
“No of course he won’t. Taz loves you. He’d do anything for you. I’ve never seen a more devoted dog.”
“He means everything to me. I can’t lose him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Dr. Hendricks is a great vet.”
The sting of Eric’s quick goodbye came back fresh. He couldn’t dump her off fast enough. Maybe he’d anticipated the danger. “Yes. It’s people he’s not especially great with.”
Clucking her tongue, Annie shifted to one hip, the embodiment of sympathy. “Was he awful to you?”
Awfully amazing. Warmth coursed through her and she rasped a breath, remembering his touch. She busied herself pouring coffee. Enough of that. He clearly wasn’t himself. “Actually,” she said, concentrating on her cup, “considering I woke him up, hysterical and in tears, he was very gracious.” Hearing herself say it was the first she’d recognized the fact. “He worked on Taz for hours.” At least three hours, if he brought her home at two. Unless their tryst lasted longer than ten minutes. At the time, it seemed sublime eternal bliss. So much for her oath not to let it happen again.
“Are you okay?” Annie’s voice broke through.
“Yes. Why?”
Annie winced. “You’re kinda spacey.”
“I’m exhausted. I couldn’t sleep, worrying about Taz.” In between visions of Eric, naked, the way his muscles rippled when he moved, how well they’d moved together. Their bodies fitting together just right. How could she have ignored The Mark and allowed it to happen? She’d wanted to ease his pain, but couldn’t deny her own desire. Maybe whatever possessed him had wanted to make love to her, not him at all. The abrupt way he left her…
“I’m impressed Dr. Hendricks worked so long at it.”
“What?” Joss froze. Had Annie read something in her expression?
“Everyone says how thorough Doc Hendricks is. Hours seems overly meticulous, even for him. He must like you a lot.” Smiling, she bumped her elbow into Joss’s side.
“Sometimes I think he doesn’t like anyone. Not even himself.”
“How long will Taz have to stay there?”
Her lip quivered. “I don’t know. There’s still a chance….” She couldn’t finish. Couldn’t think about it now. If he survived, he would need to adapt. Relearn everything. What would happen when he tried to walk? Would he fall? Or learn to compensate?
Annie knit her brows. “You better take it easy today.”
“I have to keep busy so I don’t have time to think.” She shuffled to the shower, and her head cleared a little. After dressing, she closed her bedroom door and dialed Gram.
“Hello, dear.”
“Gram, I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve seen someone who bears The Mark.”
“Are you certain? Who?”
“Eric. No, I can’t be sure. I’ve never seen it before, but he’s acting so strange. Is there anything we can do to help?”
“Yes, but it’s going to take some time to gather what I need. In the meantime, stay away from him.”
“I can’t. Taz…” Her lip quivered, and she steadied herself to relay the accident story. “It’s more important that I visit Taz to make sure he’s okay.”
“Take no chances, dear. Never be alone with him.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled up. She cleared her throat to cover it. “Right. Let me know as soon as you have what we need.” She’d do whatever it took to make Eric his old self again.
“We’ll talk soon, dear. Give my love to Taz.”
After she hung up with Gram, Joss forced herself through her rote routine. By midmorning, she couldn’t concentrate any longer. “I’m running to the bank and stopping to see Taz on the way back. I might be awhile.”
“Give him a kiss for me.”
Grabbing a stuffed animal from the dog bed, she hurried out. In a haze, she drove to town, doing her banking on autopilot. Not until she parked in the lot next to the vet’s did awareness kick in. In high gear.
Inside, the receptionist asked her to take a seat and called the assistant. Joss fingered the beat-up Sylvester the Cat toy Taz loved to chew on.
A young woman in puppy print scrubs called from a doorway, “Joss Gibson?” Leading her to the back room, her blond ponytail swished side to side. “I’m Terry. Taz is pretty groggy.”
Joss tensed, glancing left and right for any sign of Eric. The only other person besides Terry was another woman in scrubs cleaning a cage.
“Here he is.” Terry stood to one side of a large cage atop another.
Joss hiccupped a breath. With closed eyes, Taz laid still except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Stitches stretched across the skin of the amputated leg, making her gasp.
“Can I touch him?”
“Not yet. Don’t worry, he’ll know you’re here.” Terry’s thin smile did nothing to encourage hope. “I’ll be back in awhile.”
With a sigh, Joss leaned against the cage. Not even a place to sit. The passageway wouldn’t comfortably accommodate a chair and a passerby. She pressed against the cage, wishing she could hold him. If she’d caught him one minute sooner, none of this would have happened. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered.
With the twitch of a paw, Taz whimpered softly.
Terry appeared behind her. “Probably having a bad dream.”
“Can you put this in with him?”
“Sorry. We can’t expose him to any outside germs.”
“Right. I should have known better. It’s just…he loves this.”
The door opened, and she met Eric’s gaze. Wide-eyed, like a trapped
animal. Unkempt as one, too, he looked like a wild spirit. From his quick wince, he appeared to be in physical pain at the sight of her. Ducking his head, he strode toward her.
Her pulse sped up to a crazy beat. How ridiculous to bring an old stuffed toy, especially one missing its eyes.
A half-smile twisted his lips. “Shouldn’t it be a Tasmanian devil?”
Funny he should mention devil. Releasing a breath, she was glad for some excuse to look away. “He’s loved it since he was a puppy. It’s black and white like him, and smelled like him, so I think he believed it was his brother.” Can you sound any more idiotic? She turned her attention to the unconscious dog. “How is he?”
His arm brushed hers when he moved past. “About how I expected. Stable enough.”
She wanted to fold herself against him, absorb his warmth again. Until a cat in the nearest cage arched its back, bared its fangs, and hissed. The feline knew as well as Joss about The Mark.
To calm the animal, she reached through the wire to scratch its head. “Enough?” How stable was stable enough?
Appearing relieved, Eric shifted away from the cat. “Hopefully enough to fight off any infection.”
No need to ask what would happen if Taz weakened. Gulping hard, she stared at the dog, willing him to heal quickly. To her surprise, a vibration of energy pulsed through her. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn it came from under the ground.
Stiffly, he stepped back. “Well. I have to…”
Forcing a smile, she nodded. “Of course.” Had he sensed it?
His expression was unreadable as he studied her, unmoving. “Right. Well.” He turned.
“I hope you’re not exhausted. It was very kind of you to help.”
“It’s what I do.”
“I barged in late at night. Such an imposition. I…” should stop talking now. From his pained expression, she judged her presence more than an imposition. She caused him actual physical discomfort.
“It’s fine.” He touched the paper he held to his other palm. For a moment, they stood in awkward silence.
“Please don’t let me keep you.”
