by Lauren Bach
"Come on." He led the way to the couch, unsure of how to proceed. He didn't know what she needed right now.
But he knew what would make him feel better. He sat down and held out his hand.
''I'd like to hold you, but I'll respect a no."
Tess hesitated only a second, unable to think of one good reason she should refuse the consolation he offered.
Normal reasoning simply did not apply to this situation. She felt as if her psyche had been ripped, battered. As if she'd been cast into a dark pit, and Dallas was the only one who shined light her way.
Taking his hand, she let him pull her onto his lap. His strong arms surrounded her, hugging her, making her feel safe. His large hands cradled her head, tucking her neatly against his shoulder as if the spot were made for her alone.
The walls she'd managed to erect around her emotions while in the shower crumbled under his gentle ministrations. In spite of her prior resolve not to speak of it, she found herself telling him about her awful night in the pantry. How afraid she'd been that he wouldn't return.
And once the words started flowing it seemed impossible to stop them. How long they stayed on the couch, she didn't know. Nor did she care. The only thing that seemed to matter in the moment was the fact that she felt safe.
When she quieted, Dallas pressed yet another kiss to the top of her head, wondering if she was even aware that he'd done so. Hesitant to break the spell, he broke another rule and asked about her personal life.
"Tell me about your life in Boston."
For a moment he thought she'd drifted off. Then she sighed. "I have a town house downtown that I'm trying to sell. I've decided condo life is not for me."
"You want a yard?"
"A farm. With an old barn I can convert into a studio."
Dallas was finger-combing her hair, torturing himself by separating the thick, damp, strands. "Will you have animals?”
"Dogs and cats. Mostly dogs probably. To keep my mother away."
Dallas chuckled. "You'd sic dogs on your own mother?"
Tears stung her eyes. She hadn't meant that the way it sounded. "She's allergic. Or at least that was her excuse when I was a child and wanted one."
"You don't get along with your mother. What about your father and brother?"
She shrugged, uncertain how to describe her family relationships, puzzled that she even wanted to. "My father's whole life is business. My brother learned early on that following in his footsteps was the best way to keep his attention."
"Weren't you tempted to join the family business, too?"
"My father comes from a long line of sexists. He doesn't believe in working women."
Dallas shifted her slightly, massaging her scalp, wanting her to stay relaxed enough to keep talking. "How did he react to you opening your own shop?"
"He nearly had a stroke. When he realized I was serious, and discovered that I actually had some talent, he insisted I showcase my designs exclusively through the Marsh stores."
"And you said no? How did he take that?"
She made a strangled sound. "Not well. My father is accustomed to getting his way no matter how many vice presidents, managers, secretaries, or wives he has to fire. He didn't like the fact his own daughter opened a shop in downtown. Boston. We get along fine, now. In spite of his idiosyncrasies, I love him. And miss him. Especially now. My mother, too."
For a few moments the silence hung heavy between them, then Tess spoke again. 'Tell me about your life, Dallas. Where did you grow up?"
He intended to lie, but when he opened his mouth, the truth dropped out.
"Pennsylvania." He skipped over his years in college and offered another half-truth. "I moved around a lot as a kid, then eventually joined the Army."
He started rattling off the places he'd been stationed. When she didn't respond, Dallas glanced down. She'd fallen asleep in his arms, as trusting as a baby.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and settled back, satisfied to watch the flames in the fireplace die down. He didn't care if she slept for hours. For now he was content just to hold her.
* * *
Tess woke up in his arms, like she did every morning now, her bottom spooned low against his abdomen, his leg pressed possessively between hers. She slept in one of his T-shirts and a pair of her own underwear.
He'd given her an ultimatum on sleepwear. She could either wear the silky nightgown he'd found in her bag or a T-shirt. She'd picked one of his T-shirts because they were longer then hers.
For a few moments she lay still, savoring the closeness, relishing the odd security she felt at being wrapped tightly in his arms. In the days since freeing her from the pantry, Dallas had only left her twice. Both times he'd kept his word and been back within an hour.
Outside of kissing her, which, if she was honest, she'd admit she enjoyed, he hadn't made any untoward advances. Just as he promised.
Maybe it was that integrity that made her wonder what an intimate relationship with him would be like. After these weeks of waking up in his arms, his body was familiar to her. She knew the contours of his wide shoulders, knew the ripple of his abdomen pressed against her back. He was much taller, yet she didn't feel threatened by his size.
In fact she grew increasingly...curious. In the nights they'd spent together, she'd felt his rock-hard erection pressed against her on more than one occasion, felt it rub against her buttocks. It wasn't unpleasant.
It was odd, but during the time she'd spent with Dallas she realized how superficial her relationship with Geoffrey had been. They'd had no physical connection; both of them had been too wrapped up in their different careers. Geoffrey, in fact, spent the majority of his time in the London offices of his father's export company while Tess built her business in Boston.
One day, when Tess realized Geoffrey had been gone two months and she didn't miss him, she broke the engagement. It had all been terribly civilized. Madeline, her mother, had been more distraught by the news than either she or Geoffrey had been.
Tess sighed. Had Dallas ever been engaged? Married? Had there been one special woman he adored above all others?
She could readily imagine him in a relationship. She'd bet he'd be solicitous. Slightly jealous. Wondrously attentive. And sexually demanding. Exactly what would it be like to be made love to by Dallas Haynes? Hot? Sinful?
Illicit.
And something she didn't need to think about experiencing with this man. Not now. Not here. Not ever.
Closing her eyes, she forced her thoughts to clear. Here she was dreaming about making love with a man she should still be trying to escape. And it wasn't just about sex. She was falling for Dallas, which made it even more critical than ever that she get away.
Not caring if she woke him, she moved. ''I'm going to take a shower."
Dallas yawned and rolled away. "I'll make coffee."
Alone in the bathroom, Tess turned on the faucet, then started tugging at the nail in the window. Every day she tried to loosen the nail, to no avail. Until yesterday. She thought she'd felt it turn.
To her amazement the nail popped free as soon as she grabbed it, pinging noisily against the tile floor before skidding and ricocheting off the tub.
She almost squealed.
Pressing her fingers against the sash, she pushed, but still the window wouldn't budge. Applying pressure at a different angle, she pushed again, using every bit of strength she possessed, but with no success.
Damn! What was wrong? She'd already checked the edges to be certain they hadn't been painted shut. She frowned. At least not from the inside.
Glancing back briefly to check the door, she pressed her nose against the glass, peering down toward the outside sash. That's when she saw the line of nails. Five of them.
Dallas had nailed the window shut from the outside, too. Her heart pounded dully in her ears, disappointment bringing tears to her eyes. She had been so focused on getting the single nail out that it hadn't even dawned on her the window might refus
e to open for other reasons.
Turning the shower on full blast, she stepped under the spray. She would have to find another way to escape.
* * *
They had just finished breakfast when someone banged on the door.
Tess looked expectantly at Dallas. To her surprise, he didn't order her to hide in another room. Nervous, she started clearing the table. When she finished that, she peeked around the door, wondering who Dallas talked to.
Immediately she regretted her impulsiveness as Snake leered at her over Dallas's shoulder, his black eye patch making him look even more evil. Her stomach tightened as she remembered the last time she'd seen Snake...when he'd murdered Matt Michaels. Her hands started shaking.
"Bogen said you've got extra coolers," Snake said, looking directly at her. "He needs one."
She backed up until the kitchen counter pressed into her spine, struck anew by the physical prowess of these two men. They were huge. She wouldn't stand a chance against either of them.
For a long moment Dallas blocked the doorway. Finally, he stepped aside, allowing Snake to enter. Crossing to where Tess stood, Dallas reached over her head and grabbed one of the battered ice chests stacked on top of the refrigerator.
Turning, he tossed the chest at Snake. Remaining in front of Tess, Dallas reached around and possessively tugged her up against his back, out of Snake's view. "You got what you came for."
"Yep. I'm looking forward to the cookout, amigo." Snake laughed. "She'll make an interesting main course."
As soon as he was gone, Tess yanked her arm free and stepped away. "What was he talking about?"
"Bogen's having a party tonight. A cookout. We're invited." Dallas had known this moment would come sooner or later.
"I'll stay here."
"It's not optional," he said. It was obvious that Snake's visit had upset her. Dallas noticed that her hands were trembling. "But you'll be with me every moment."
"Who will be there?"
He caught the edge in her voice. ''The entire camp. They're curious to see you, Tess. I told you before there are several women here at the camp. I've never been with any of them, nor have I ever brought a woman here, so you're some what of a novelty."
He paused, waiting for her to look at him before going on. "I'll be frank. They will assume we've had an intimate relationship. Don't try to correct them. They won't care whether it's a consensual arrangement or not. In fact they'll assume it wasn't. As you know, they'll be crude. Ignore them, and I'll get us out of there as soon as I can."
Once again she saw a flicker-compassion?-behind those silver eyes just before he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the kitchen. He wasn't as indifferent to her situation as he'd have her believe.
Perhaps she did have a chance at convincing him to let her skip Bogen's little soiree. She followed him quietly, intent on asking again if she could stay behind.
Dallas was in the bedroom, rummaging through the boots he stowed in the back of the closet. "Damn Snake," he muttered. ''I'm sure that bastard had something to do with Michaels's disappearance."
His words surprised Tess. "Matt Michaels?"
Dallas spun around, irritated that he hadn't heard her approach, shocked by her question. "How did you know that was his first name?"
She felt her face redden. "I ... I ... guessed it. I'll go finish the dishes."
Dumbfounded, Dallas watched her hurry away. Damn. She knew. He had suspected all along she was hiding something.
He just hadn't thought it pertained to Matt. Jesus, how stupid could he be?
Sitting back on his heels, he forced his temper to cool. He needed to know exactly what she knew about Matt. And how she'd found out. The problem would be convincing her to tell him about it without raising suspicion that might imperil his assignment or endanger her.
A few minutes later he walked out to the kitchen where she stood with her back to him, furiously washing dishes. Moving closer he grabbed a towel and started wiping a plate.
The tension between them stretched, as brittle as spun glass, until finally he spoke. "Tess, I know you don't deserve anything that's happened to you. But I hope you recognize that I've gone out of my way to protect you and will continue to do so. If you know anything about Matt Michaels, you need to tell me."
Tess looked at him squarely. "No. The only thing I need to do is stay alive and get back to my family."
He tossed the towel down. "I knew Matt Michaels from town. He worked on my bike a few times. In fact he did work for several people here. Everyone liked him."
She opened her mouth, then just as quickly closed it and tried to move past him.
Silver eyes pinned her in place. "Everyone except Snake," he said.
"I don't know anything," she blurted.
"I think you do, but you just don't want to tell me." He reached out, wrapping a golden strand of hair around his finger and tugged it lightly, urging her closer. "Why?"
Tess scowled, resisting, pulling away. "You warned me against letting anyone know my secrets. You said it could put me in even more danger here. So to be perfectly honest, I'm scared. Of Snake. Of Bogen. Of you."
Dallas eyed the clock, wishing they had more time to discuss this. Unfortunately he had a meeting scheduled with Bogen. They were going to call Sanchez. For now he had to leave.
"I've asked you several times to trust me, Tess. Have I betrayed you yet?"
Angry tears glittered in her eyes. "You're holding me prisoner!"
"Funny. I thought I was keeping you safe from the others."
Moving away, Dallas started preparing for his meeting, but his mind was still on Tess. She knew something about. Michaels' disappearance, of that he was sure. But she didn't believe in him enough to tell him what it was.
Well, tonight Dallas was going to change that. He'd lay on the charm as soon as they returned from Bogen's party. Hell, maybe sooner. He wanted Tess' trust, needed it. And tonight he'd do whatever it took to win her confidence.
* * *
They rode Dallas's motorcycle to the cookout, which was held a couple of miles from the main house, on the shore of a lake. He assured her it wasn't Lake Summer -- which didn't make her feel any less uncomfortable.
In the dark it was impossible to see the water, but Dallas said it was only a short distance away. "I'll take you for a walk along the shore later," he offered.
Tess shook her head. Her fear of water had seemed to magnify with each passing nightmare of Matt Michaels's lifeless, concrete-weighted body. Being anywhere near water held little appeal for her.
Besides, she was still furious with Dallas for marking her neck. Just before they had left the cabin, he pulled her into his arms and started kissing her. Tender, maddening kisses, as if she were the most precious thing on earth.
Tess had melted on the spot, powerless against his touch, the feel of his lips nuzzling her throat. Then she'd felt a slight sting, felt his teeth graze and nip. Twice.
One look in the bathroom mirror confirmed her suspicions.
He'd given her two unsightly love bites, right in the middle of her neck. "How dare you!" she accused, embarrassed to have once again lost her reasoning while in his embrace.
"It's insurance, Tess. Everyone will look for signs of my ownership. They'll challenge any perceived weakness. I don't intend to show any."
Well she didn't either. Self-conscious, Tess fought the urge to put her hand on her neck as they walked through the woods toward the party. Light from a fire flickered through the trees.
Dallas looked at her. "You okay?"
She nodded. No, she wasn't okay, but she didn't feel like discussing it.
"You're awful quiet," he said.
"So was Daniel when they led him to the lions."
He chuckled. "I'll keep you safe. Trust me."
Trust him? After the little hickey episode? Right! Actually, she was still trying to decide how to handle his questions about Matt Michaels.
She'd spent the afternoon debating the
pros and cons. One minute she would decide to confide in him. The next she worried it wasn't prudent, that it might jeopardize her own situation if word of it got back to Bogen.
Only one thing seemed clear: Dallas didn't know all the details about Michaels' disappearance, and he wanted her help in filling in the blanks. But why question her? Why not ask Bogen or Snake?
Unless Dallas didn't want them to know he knew.
Oddly enough she found she wanted to trust him, but for reasons she didn't want to examine too closely. The more she explored her feelings for Dallas, well, the less clear everything seemed. Too often lately she found herself wondering what it could have been like to meet him under different circumstances.
She shook her head. That train of thought was insane. And dangerous. Which only proved that now, more than ever, she needed to escape.
They had reached the perimeter of the fire. It was apparent the group used the spot regularly. Downed trees ringed one side of the blazing bonfire.
On the other side, two picnic tables were butted together near a row of rusted barbecue grills. Open bags of potato chips and several coolers filled one table.
It seemed everyone talked at once, yelling to be heard above the music blaring from a portable stereo. She recognized Eddie's voice when he yelled, "Look who's here."
All talk ceased. Tess became painfully aware of their stares, their blatant disregard for her person. To them she was an object. A sexual commodity.
She looked away. Several women hovered near the food.
Judging by their scowls, she guessed these women to be the ones Dallas had mentioned previously. If they were here by choice, they certainly wouldn't feel any sympathy for Tess' plight.
One woman stepped free, yelling back at Eddie. "What's the matter? You never seen blond hair and big tits before?"
Another woman lifted her shirt, exposing her breasts briefly to a round of applause. Tess hunched her shoulders forward.
"Jealous, Liz?" someone shouted, touching off peals of laughter. The conversations picked back up, more frenzied then before.
Tess glanced away. So that was Liz. Snake's girlfriend.
