Turquoise Guardian

by Jenna Kernan

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  She had a dull headache, and she was tired to the bone. But she was not the one who had been shot.

  “We need to get you cleaned up. Does Kurt have a first aid kit?”

  “He’s a paramedic, so he better.”

  “Should you call your brother?” she asked.

  “Kurt doesn’t have a landline. Just uses his cell.”

  “What about your phone?”

  “I don’t trust it.”

  “When will he be home?”

  Carter shrugged and then winced.

  “Your family will be worried,” she said.

  “Yours, too.”

  They stared in silence a moment. She thought of her application to come home. Where would she live? Her thoughts turned to Carter, and the desire sparked in her chest, flooding downward to ignite her longing, deep, low and hot.

  “Let’s get a bandage on that.”

  They headed for the bathroom in the back of the house and flicked on the light. Amber found a shoe box with some medical supplies, including large gauze pads and antiseptic cream. Amber seated Carter on the edge of the tub and helped him remove the improvised bandage and his ruined shirt. The wound had begun to clot, but the removal of the dressing caused it to bleed again, sending a scarlet trail of blood down his arm. He scowled at his shoulder as if it disappointed him.

  “It doesn’t look too bad,” she lied, when in fact, it looked terrible. The edges of the wound were raw and angry red. The inside of the groove looked like raw meat, and the entire thing made her stomach roll.

  “You ever cleaned a wound before?”

  “Of course.” She rubbed her mouth and recalled the lip that she had iced but not had stitched until the next day because no one had noticed it until then.

  Justice entered the room and sat nearly on Amber’s foot as she washed her hands with soap, relishing the feel of clean skin. Then she filled the sink with soapy water and set to work with a washcloth, washing away the blood. She tried not to admire the firm bronze skin beneath the cloth or the feel of his muscles where she gripped his arm. But she could not ignore the tiny white scars, divots and puckers that marred the skin of his arm. The marks left by the shrapnel and the surgeries to remove the tiny bits of metal.

  “Do these hurt?” she asked.

  “Not too much. The scar tissue tugs, and I have some numb places.”

  “Here?” she asked, moving the cloth in a rhythmic motion.

  “No,” his voice was lower now, gruff. “I can feel all that.”

  She continued working from his wrist and spiraling up, pausing only to rinse off the blood. One stubborn line of blood continued to flow like a river down the bright ink of his tattoo and the wide plain of his chest muscles to settle in his ribbed stomach.

  She washed his stomach and chest, feeling his gaze fixed on her and refusing to look. His nipple pebbled at the touch of the cloth, and she wondered what it would be like to stroke him again and feel his body come alive. His chest rose and fell a little too fast.

  He wanted to make love to her. He had told her so.

  Amber lifted her gaze and found fathomless brown eyes, parted lips and an expression that registered as a different sort of pain, one tied to the same longing that thumped in her chest.

  He reached his good hand out and captured her around the neck, pulling her down to kiss him again. She sank between his splayed knees and let the sensations flow. Her body stirred, and the cloth fell from her hands.

  A cold nose poked her in the center of her back.

  She yelped and turned. Justice sat with tongue lolling and eyes half closed.

  “Justice,” growled Carter. “Lie down.”

  The dog whined and made a show of lying down but then decided to sit on the bath mat instead.

  “Let me finish up,” she said, lifting the cloth and ringing it out once more. The trail of blood was back, but this time she elected to smear a piece of gauze with antiseptic gel before placing it over the open wound. “That really needs a stitch or two.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “It will scar.”

  “Make me look even tougher,” he said and prodded at the gauze.

  She added several more pieces until the blood no longer soaked through. Then she used a two-inch ACE bandage to hold it in place. When she finished, the bandage wove around his chest, under his armpit and back around his arm in a figure eight.

  “Nice. Where’d you learn that?”

  “I had a rotator cuff strain. That’s how we held the ice bag in place.”

  He nodded. She used the washcloth once more to clean away the last trail of blood.

  “Eating or washing next?” he asked.

  She was too tired for either, but she suggested he take a bath so he didn’t soak his wound, and she offered to find them something to eat.

  “I don’t know what he has. Might be slim pickings.”

  She left him, anxious to be away from the need he stirred and the bad ideas that kept popping up. What if they were caught and killed? Would she want to spend her last hours on this earth avoiding Carter or in his arms?

  She knew the answer, and that frightened her in an entirely different way. Under normal circumstances, she would use her head. But nothing about this was normal.

  She heard the bath water running as she made it to the kitchen. She didn’t dare turn on the light, so she worked in the near dark. The freezer had one bag of pinto beans, ice and frozen burritos.

  But in the refrigerator, she struck gold. Onions, potatoes, eggs and a nice defrosted steak. The sound of the water stream stopped, only to be replaced by splashing and humming. She focused on the cast-iron skillet and scrambling eggs. She was not imagining Carter naked and wet in the bathtub. She was not picturing all that bronze wet skin, those long muscular legs and that tight ass.

  Amber groaned as she chopped the potatoes thinly so they’d cook faster. She was hungry enough to eat them raw. She had done this job often enough to be able to do it in the dark. Her first job had been off the books in the kitchen of a diner in Darabee. Into the hot pan went grease, the onions and potatoes. She added salt, pepper, paprika and cayenne for the frying potatoes.

  By the time the bathroom door opened, she had the steak seasoned.

  Carter emerged, wearing clean jeans, a white T-shirt, bare feet and a devilish grin.

  “Smells like heaven.”

  “It will be a few minutes for the potatoes,” she said.

  “You go shower. I’ll do this.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. A man who could cook was a thing of beauty.

  “I opted to leave the overhead light off. But I kept that one on.”

  “Fine. Go get cleaned up.” He lifted a meat fork from the container of utensils beside the stove and poked at a potato. Amber moved aside.

  She hesitated because she did not have the bag Kay had packed.

  “Would your brother mind if I borrowed something to wear?”

  “I already put out a T-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms I know he has never worn.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he sleeps naked, like me.” His brow lifted, and she felt the flush rising up her neck and heating her face.

  She nodded and backed away.

  “I put them in the bathroom. See you in a few.”

  Amber retreated to the bathroom and closed the door behind her, leaning back against the wood and releasing a breath. That man made her hotter than those frying potatoes.

  She stripped out of the dirty clothes, keeping nothing but the necklace, and the bra and panties that she rinsed out in the sink and hung to dry.

  Then she started the taps and stepped into the warm stream. There were
few things that could not be made better by a hot shower. Amber emerged a few minutes later and tried to ignore the sensitivity of her skin as she toweled herself dry.

  She was going to eat and sleep and pray that the next time she saw any law enforcement, they would be wearing the seal of the Turquoise Canyon Tribal Police.

  She wondered if Carter was now imagining her damp and naked. A smile curled her lips. Then she shook her head at her reflection. She was not going to let her lust overcome her common sense. She was tired and frightened. He was safe and familiar. That was all.

  Her reflection gave her a look of skepticism, and she groaned, turning away.

  He wasn’t just safe and familiar. He was her first true love, and those feelings died hard.

  Amber tugged on the fleece pajama bottoms and frowned. They were covered with images of playing cards, poker chips and arrowheads. Clearly they were from the tribe’s casino, and she could see why a man would not want to wear them. But they were clean, and so was the soft red T-shirt.

  She entered the kitchen to the sound of the steak sizzling in the pan. The aroma made her stomach rumble. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

  “Wow.”

  He smiled at her, spatula in one hand as his gaze swept her from head to heel. “You even make that look good.” He pointed the spatula at the small dinette and said, “Sit.”

  Justice was already sleeping under the table, so she was careful with her chair. He lifted his head and then laid it back down.

  “He’s not going to beg?” she asked.

  “Kurt never feeds him from the table. He gets leftovers in his dish with breakfast. If there are any. I’m hungry enough to eat that dog.”

  Justice sighed but did not rouse again as Carter brought her a plate. He’d added toast to her original menu, and she slathered the offering with butter and dug in.

  He added ketchup to his eggs, and they both finished another full glass of water. Her headache was easing, and she wondered if it had to do with dehydration, fatigue or famine.

  There was no conversation as they ate, and, as Carter predicted, there was little but gristle and a small portion of eggs left for Justice.

  “I wish you could get word to your brother,” she said. “I’m sure he’s worried sick.”

  “They’ll be on our trail. Likely made it to the gas station by now.

  “No helping it. He’ll be back sometime. Tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll see him then.”

  She wondered if Kurt would take the forms to the tribal council for her. She rested her cheek on her hand and sagged. “What now?”

  Her eyes blinked, and she had trouble keeping them open. Amazing what clean clothes and a full stomach could do.

  “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Amber suddenly did not feel sleepy anymore.

  Chapter Twenty

  Carter watched Amber’s eyes go from that sexy heavy-lidded stare to wide-eyed. He wanted to take her to his bed, but she had looked dead on her feet. Now her stare looked hungry.

  “Put you to bed,” he said. “Not take you to bed.”

  Her shoulders sank a fraction. Was that disappointment he read in her expression? He wondered about old mistakes. His. Hers. Then he thought about new beginnings. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Amber. Could he be the one to bring her life joy and meaning?

  “Kurt has two bedrooms. His and one that Thomas uses when he is back from the Shadow Wolves. But I’ll bet he’s tracking us right now.”

  “Sad. Here we are in their home, and they are out there searching for us.

  “Can’t be helped.”

  “When will Kurt be back?”

  “Not sure but definitely by morning, because he didn’t take Justice along. Come on.” He took their dishes to the sink and dropped them. She glanced at the dirty frying pan. “Leave it. Just more tracks for them to follow.”

  He clasped her hand and led her to Thomas’s room.

  “This is it.”

  There was little but a full-sized bed, side table and a bench along the window.

  She stood in the door peeking in. “Where will you be?”

  He moved to the door, and she stepped back but not enough, and their bodies grazed as he passed by. He stilled and looked down at her.

  “You want to see where I’ll be sleeping?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He led her across the hall to Kurt’s room. The bed was larger, and the furnishing included a desk and computer setup.

  “Room for two,” she said.

  He turned to her. “Like last night?”

  She shook her head. “No. Like before I left.”

  He watched her expression for clues. Why now? he wondered. Was it because she had hope now, hope of return to her tribe, her family and him?

  “I just need you tonight.”

  Now why did it bother him that she said tonight? He knew why. It implied that she wouldn’t need him every night or any night or all nights from here to eternity. Just tonight.

  He should take what she offered with both hands. Instead he hesitated because he wanted more, a promise, a commitment and second chance. What did she want?

  “Need the bathroom?” he asked.

  She nodded and retreated there. Carter dived over the bed and opened Kurt’s side table, praying aloud. He found what he was looking for, condoms of the bare skin variety. And something else, a little red squishy packet of something unfamiliar. The packet read, Pleasure-enhancing lubricant.

  Holy heck. Now he needed to change the sheets. Where were the clean sheets? Hall closet. Inside the bathroom the water ran. He stripped the bed and made it fresh in record time. Amber emerged to find him throwing the coverlet back in place.

  “You changed the sheets?” There was joy and wonder in her voice.

  He nodded.

  “That’s sexy as hell.”

  He grinned. She lifted the two foil packages and considered them as his body went hot. She lowered the lubricant to the side table.

  “Won’t need this,” she said, her eyes flashing to him.

  Was she already wet for him? His skin went hot, and then he shivered with anticipation.

  She raised the condom. “Might need more of these.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He hit the bathroom, finding a bottle of ibuprofen and taking three. His shoulder throbbed dully, but he knew Amber would make him forget all about it. The throbbing moved south.

  When he came back, he found her curled up under the coverlet, her eyes closed and her breathing soft and even.

  He stood there staring at her as his disappointment gradually turned to a twisting feeling in his stomach. The disappointment tugged, but as he gazed down at the small bump under the coverlet he began to see how little she was and feel the need to keep her safe pulling at his heart. Carter rubbed a hand over his chest trying to ease the aching there. It didn’t.

  Carter wanted to protect her, of course. Not just now but always. He was falling again. He knew it, and it scared him. How had he found the courage before—to offer that ring and take her into his heart, knowing she might not stay?

  * * *

  AMBER ROUSED IN the stillness of the night. She lay on her side tucked up close to Carter’s warm body. Her leg was bent and resting on his muscular thigh, her head nestled on his good shoulder and his arm wrapped protectively around her back. His breath was slow and easy, but something had awakened her. She lifted her head from the pillow to listen. She caught movement, thinking it looked like a man crouched at the foot of the bed.

  Her heart slammed into her chest as she sat up. Carter followed, his body swayed, and he groaned.

  “What?” he asked.

  One furry paw lifted to the end of the mattress, followed by another.
Then the massive head of the pit bull lifted in silhouette against the curtains and the moonlight beyond.

  “Justice!” said Carter. “Off the bed.”

  Justice paused and then continued his slow crawl forward.

  Carter raked a hand through his hair and turned to Amber. “Kurt lets him sleep in his bed.”

  He threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the mattress, pointing toward the hall as he ordered Justice from the bedroom. Then he closed the door before returning to her.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “He scared the life out of me. For a minute I thought someone was in the room.”

  “He’s a good dog. Friendly with kids and most other dogs. The female dogs.”

  She giggled. “Like Kurt.”

  He lay back and pulled her down beside her.

  “How’s the shoulder?” she asked.

  “It burns.”

  “Will you be able to sleep again?”

  He turned his head and gazed at her, his dark eyes black in the night. He lifted a finger and traced the outline of the scar at her mouth, and then he traced the outline of her lower lip. She trembled as the tingling awareness rolled through her body with the power of a flash flood. She rested a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat that matched her own.

  “You want to?” he asked.

  She nodded. “But I don’t want to hurt your shoulder.”

  “We can go slow.” His smile was filled with male sensuality. Somehow he made her ache down low and deep without even touching her.

  She tried to remember why this was such a bad idea. Their first time she had been young, giddy and nervous. Now she was lonely and scared. She wanted comfort more than sex, didn’t she?

  Nope. She wanted sex with Carter Bear Den. Throbbing and raw. She wanted to feel him sliding in and out of her body, and she wanted to press herself up close and tight. Tomorrow his brother would come, and she would be in protective custody again. Tonight she wanted only to be in Carter’s custody. So she could take what he offered.

  Amber raked her fingers over the hard muscle of his chest, and Carter’s eyes widened, flashing with heat.

  He dragged her against him, as if she weighed nothing at all. As if he had not been shot tonight. As if she were the most important thing in the world to him.