She had gotten quite adept at giving details without revealing any of her inner turmoil.
Glancing at the large man behind the steering wheel, she launched into the standard, memorized description she’d given so many times before.
“You saw where he kept me,” she said, grimacing. “Dark, cold, isolated. Exactly where demons should be kept, according to him. Sometimes I was left alone for days at a time. They fed me just enough to keep me alive. I craved water more than food, maybe because that was doled out sporadically. I had a large bucket to use as my bathroom. It was rarely emptied and stank, but after a while I didn’t even notice the smell.”
Rote stuff. She’d said it a hundred times in exactly the same way. Usually, it was enough. She raised her eyes to find him watching her. The observant look in his narrowed gaze told her for him, it wasn’t. Somehow, he knew.
Such a look... The sharpness of it might have stripped another woman naked. But Lilly had been through much worse. Though the slightly guilty pang she felt inside surprised her. She didn’t care what he thought. Or she shouldn’t. It was all so puzzling.
Confusion exhausted her. Instead of continuing, she closed her eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t making her remember, making her hurt. In fact, she tried to act as if he didn’t exist.
“Are you okay?” The gentle tone in his whiskey voice made her insides quiver.
“Yes.” Short answer, total untruth. Keeping her eyes closed, she averted her profile, hoping he’d take the hint.
“If you don’t want to discuss it, that’s fine,” he said. “But don’t feed me all that bullshit you rehearsed for the press. I saw the interviews. I read the news magazine reports. If I could find one right now, it’d probably show you parroting the same exact thing you said then. Why is that?”
Was that anger vibrating under his words? She took a moment, mulling over the fact that she felt no fear, instead a sort of baffled curiosity.
She understood what he was saying, even if it made absolutely no sense. Kane barely knew her. Why did he want so badly to know the inner her? She’d shared that with no one, including her own twin brother. Though she suspected Lucas had a good idea, not only since they were so much alike, but because he too had briefly suffered at the hands of their father.
At her lack of response, he gave a slow shake of his head. “If you don’t want to talk about it, all you have to do is say so.”
Clenching her teeth, she swallowed. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.”
“Fine.” His jaw appeared as tight as hers. “Let me know if you need anything.” And before she could even consider replying, he turned up the radio and began singing along to the music, some country-western song about something called a redneck.
Mystified, she turned away and faced the window. She decided to practice her deep breathing, something her last therapist claimed would help calm her but which hadn’t worked so far. To her complete amazement, with Kane singing happily in the background, this time she felt tranquility washing over her. But it had nothing to do with her breaths and everything to do with Kane’s deep, melodic voice. The night before, she’d thought it was the guitar, but she realized now she’d been wrong. The instrument was only part of it. The rest was him. Something about the way he sang reached deep inside her, into her bones and her blood.
Chapter 3
Foolishness. Or so Lilly quickly told herself. That didn’t stop her from enjoying the respite from the constant buzz of trepidation that usually swirled inside her, mingling with the fear. Abstractly, she knew she wasn’t supposed to be so uneasy, but the queasy feeling that there was danger all around her persisted. She didn’t know how to stop it. Therapy was supposed to help, but it hadn’t.
In fact, she could count on the fingers of one hand the moments of calm since she’d been freed from captivity. Last night and right now—this was huge. Allowing herself a small smile while making sure Kane couldn’t see, she sighed. She closed her eyes and let herself slide into sleep.
She’d slept a little, and then they’d stopped for lunch and stretched their legs, and gotten right back on the road. They didn’t talk much, which to her surprise felt comfortable.
That night, they stopped in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. When he pulled into the small motel’s parking lot, asking her to wait in the car while he got them a room, anticipation filled her rather than dread. Because later, surely he’d sing. Stunned, she realized she craved this, the same way she’d once craved water.
After checking into their room, which oddly bore a close resemblance to the previous one, Kane suggested they walk across the parking lot to the small, brightly lit café.
“Okay.” She didn’t even have to consider her answer. The fast-food they’d consumed hours ago for lunch had long since been digested and she felt hollow. Which meant she was hungry. Not a new sensation by any means, but her body had once been accustomed to being starved. Allowing herself to want food, to actually anticipate the flavor on her taste buds, was yet another thing that should have brought her happiness, but instead stressed her out. She couldn’t shake the certainty of believing if she allowed herself to enjoy one thing—anything—it would be promptly taken away from her. Conditioning, her shrink had said. Whatever it was, it was a part of her that she now hated.
He stayed close to her side as they crossed the well-lit motel lot into the café. The place was bright and crowded, and the scent of hamburgers cooking made her mouth water.
“Heaven,” she breathed, before realizing what she’d done and immediately trying to shut the instant of pleasure down.
“Don’t,” he said quietly, as if he understood. And then, shocking her, he took her hand. When he closed his large fingers firmly around hers, she struggled against a sharp stab of panic.
“I...” Tugging, she stopped when she saw the kindness in his eyes. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Instead of releasing her, he continued to hold on to her hand while they waited for the hostess to gather menus. As they followed the woman to their booth, Lilly wondered when Kane planned to let her go.
He released her when they reached their seats, sliding into the booth on the side facing the door. Studying him, she thought he appeared relaxed. Which was good, as that would mean they weren’t in any immediate danger.
She wished she could relax, as well.
“Are you always so jumpy?”
As if to underscore his comment, she started at his words. “Yes,” she answered, refusing to sugarcoat it. “As I’m sure you noticed, I’m pretty messed up.”
“That’s understandable.” No censure, only compassion in that wonderful, rich voice of his. He opened his menu, to her relief. “What are you in the mood for?”
“A burger,” she blurted, her mouth starting to water, “and fries.”
He nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll have the same.”
With a start, she realized the waitress stood nearby, ready to take their orders. Lilly’d been too lost in her thoughts to notice.
“And two milkshakes,” Kane continued, handing the menus back.
“What flavor?” the waitress asked.
Kane’s silver eyes met Lilly’s, causing a spark to flare low in her belly. “Are you a chocolate or vanilla person?”
“Do you have banana?” she blurted, forcing herself to meet the waitress’s gaze.
“Yep.”
“I’d like that.”
“We’ll take two,” Kane seconded, grinning so broadly Lilly wondered if she’d made some sort of public mistake.
Once the waitress moved away, Kane reached across the table and lightly touched her cheek, pretending not to notice when she flinched. “You know what you want,” he said, his tone vibrating with praise. “I like that.”
To her befuddled amazement, she felt her face heat at the compliment. “Thanks.”
When their food arrived along with the milkshakes, huge burgers next to a mound of crispy fries that looked every bit as good as they smelled, s
he froze. After shooting Kane a quick glance, she snatched hers up and sank her teeth into it. The flavor exploded in her mouth, making her hum with pleasure.
Half the thing was gone before she realized it. Glancing at Kane, she saw he watched her while he ate his own, much more slowly. Sheepishly, she put her burger down and made herself take some of her fries.
“You look like you’re enjoying that,” he said, smiling.
“I am.” Careful not to talk with her mouth full, she took a long drink of her shake, almost purring out loud at the sweet banana deliciousness as it slid down her throat.
He laughed, a sound of genuine pleasure. “I take it you like your milkshake, too.”
She nodded, swallowing one last sip before answering. “This is great.” Looking up, she met his laughing gaze. With a sense of shock, she realized Kane was damn near beautiful when he smiled. The thought made her full stomach hurt. Careful to look away, she tried to think of something else.
As seemed to be his wont, Kane came to the rescue. “Didn’t Lucas feed you back there in Seattle?”
“He did.” She tried to think of a diplomatic way to explain. Since there was none, she went ahead and told the truth. “Food is another one of my...neuroses. I have a lot. Too many to count, actually.” Her lame attempt at a joke fell flat. Once again, she felt her face color.
When he didn’t respond, she glanced up at him. He appeared to be engrossed in devouring the remains of his meal. With a feeling of relief, she did the same.
After they’d finished, Lilly declined dessert, even though the apple pie the waitress mentioned made her mouth water again. Amusement flickering in his eyes, Kane asked for the check. As they got up to leave, she half expected him to reach for her hand again. When he didn’t, she marveled at her feeling of disappointment.
Still, full and sated, she noticed an unusual lightness in her steps as they walked side by side to the motel.
Back in the room, as soon as he closed the door, the familiar uneasiness swept over her. She knew she should try to fight it. After all, they’d spent two days driving in the car together. Intellectually, she knew he meant her no harm, but some kind of rationality based on past experience made terror grab her by the throat and refuse to let go. Paralyzed, she tried to regain control, to push back the dizziness, to slow her rapid heartbeat.
Deep breathing, deep breathing. She would be strong. She was strong. Purposefully avoiding looking at the bed, where she longed to crawl under the covers and curl into a protective ball, she headed for the bathroom and a hot shower.
When she emerged, instead of sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her, Kane had stretched out, still fully dressed, and fallen asleep. Padding over on her bare feet, she studied his strong profile. Even asleep, she saw the inherent strength in his hawklike features. Emboldened, she let her gaze travel over the rest of him, his impossibly long, black lashes, high cheekbones, and firm yet sensual lips. An unfamiliar warmth began inside her. He really was dangerously beautiful. Tendrils of his thick dark hair curled on his tanned forehead, and his broad shoulders and muscular arms made him look virile in his T-shirt. Even his bare arm silky with hairs and his long fingered hands fascinated her. The same way one would marvel at a great work of art, she told herself. Nothing more.
Sleep had muted the air of isolation she’d sensed in him and identified with, making him appear unexpectedly vulnerable. If not for the power she sensed coiled within him, making his aura pulse with potent masculinity, that is.
Aching to touch the heat emanating from his flesh, she cleared her throat instead. Oddly enough, she felt more at risk now than she did when he was awake with his quiet confidence filling the room.
At the sound, he opened his eyes. His silver gaze locked on hers, making her catch her breath.
“All done?” he asked, sitting up. Momentarily struck dumb, she nodded.
“Great.” Pushing himself off the bed, he smiled at her. “I’ll only be a minute or two. Go ahead and sleep if you want.”
An instant of panic clawed at her. Unreasonable, but still... “Will you,” she began, trying to bring the words up a suddenly tight throat. “Will you play and sing again tonight?”
He went so still she wondered if she’d offended him. But his expression appeared neutral when he looked her way. “Do you want me to?”
Nodding, she glanced down, aware she’d begun twisting her hands together. “I would like that,” she managed.
“Then I will.” His easy tone made her think he hadn’t noticed her uneasiness. But then she was coming to realize he pretended not to notice a lot of her weirdness in order to put her at ease.
“But first, I want a shower.” Turning, he headed toward the bathroom.
“Thank you,” she said, right when he closed the door behind him. She wasn’t sure he’d heard her, but at least she’d tried.
Carefully she removed the bedspread, folding it neatly at the end of the bed. Then, peeling back the sheets, she slipped in between them, trying to lie on her back, propped up with a pillow, or on her side, stretched out like normal people. In the end, she gave up and curled up into her usual, comforting ball and lay inflexible and rigid.
She’d give anything to have the ability to drift off to sleep. Just close her eyes, and let herself get carried away to the land of dreams. Instead, she lay absolutely still, her heartbeat fast, her mind racing.
Though she’d tried to school herself against it, she stiffened the instant the door opened. Keeping her eyes closed, she felt his presence fill the room. Damn it. No reason for fear, no reason at all. But helpless against instinct, she couldn’t stop the dread from filling her. A few minutes later, the familiar shivers started. Clenching her jaw, she tried to keep her teeth from chattering.
“It’s okay,” he said, his deep voice calm and sure. “I’ll get my guitar. Just a minute.” She heard the sound of him unlocking the dead bolt, then the door opened and closed as he went outside.
Her jaw began to ache as she waited.
After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was probably only a moment, he returned. Eyes still closed, she held herself rigid, hating that she felt so tense. She listened as he moved around the room, heard the click of the fasteners as he opened his guitar case, the rustle and creak of the bed next to her as he settled on it. She could barely contain her impatience.
And then finally, he strummed the guitar. As the soft notes filled the room, she loosened her iron grip on herself, letting them pull some of the tension from her. When he sang, his husky voice low and sensual, and just exactly right, she heaved a great sigh, willing herself to become unknotted.
One song ended—she wasn’t even sure of the words—and he began another. As the music filled her, releasing her from the iron grip of her damaged psyche, she smiled. Muttering a slurred thank-you, she let herself fall toward the blessed oblivion of sleep.
* * *
Kane kept playing, long after he’d watched Lilly fall into slumber. Though exhaustion made him unsteady, he knew he had to keep playing or he might do something he’d regret. Like touch her.
Hell, the aching need to lay a hand on her had only intensified the longer he was around her. Only the certain knowledge of how badly such a thing would freak her out kept him from giving in to the craving. He’d been surprised as hell when she’d let him hold her hand earlier. And pleased, more than he should have been.
Four songs in, as the last notes died away, he made himself stop. Moving slowly, his body uncomfortable and aching, he returned the guitar to its case. He then went to bed, hoping he could get to sleep. He had another full day of driving tomorrow.
When he opened his eyes again, the grayish light told him dawn had nearly arrived. He sat up, glancing over at Lilly, who still slept. Heading toward the shower, he braced himself for yet another long day of driving. South Bend, Indiana, here we come.
Though this was only their second morning together, Kane considered it odd the way he and Lilly seemed to have
developed a routine. In less than forty-five minutes, they were on the road, both having showered and dressed. After running through a drive-through for breakfast, they hit the highway. Once again, Lilly was silent, so he again located a country-music radio station and turned up the volume.
Several hours later, fueled by two large coffees, he debated trying again to engage her in conversation. She was a quiet little thing, though her slender, wild beauty lit up the interior of his car. He knew she had no idea of her impact on him, though everything about her fascinated him, from the apricot cream of her soft skin to the long lashes framing her clear blue eyes. He struggled against the temptation to taste her lush mouth, to tangle his fingers in her careless tumble of thick, honey-gold hair.
Even the first time he’d seen her, emaciated and filthy, huddled on a cold stone floor with nothing but rags to keep her warm, he’d seen the light of her beauty shining through her damaged exterior. For the first time in his life, he’d wanted to kill another human being, to find the one who had done this to her and wrap his fingers around his throat.
Since he couldn’t, he’d managed to hold himself in check. The bastard, one Jacob Gideon, a prominent religious leader of a church called Sanctuary, had been arrested. The worst part of it was that Lilly’d believed Jacob to be her father. It’d turned out Jacob had killed her parents back when she and Lucas had been infants.
Shaking off his thoughts, he focused on the road. When she finally spoke, he nearly missed it.
“What’s your story?” Her soft-voiced question had him hurrying to turn down the radio. “How’d you get into the bodyguard business?”
He couldn’t help but smile at her description. “I’m actually a veterinarian. I work at a veterinary clinic in Fort Worth. I also work for The Society of Pack Protectors.”
The Wolf Siren Page 4
