Her Panther Protector [The Protectors 5] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Doris O'Connor

  “Jesus, let go of her, man. We didn’t mean no harm.” Jack’s voice had risen to an effeminate squeak in his agitation, and Sasha threw his hand off his shoulder with just one shrug. Jack swallowed hard and took a step back, hands up in the air in a defensive gesture when Sasha glared at him. No doubt his panther was showing in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that right now.

  “Really?” he asked, and his voice held the distinctive growl of his beast. “Then tell me why I found the boy your little playmate here is supposed to look after, wandering naked and dirty along the main road.”

  “No, he can’t have.” The girl’s terrified whisper brought his attention back to her, and she shook her head at him. “He’s asleep upstairs. I mean, I would have heard him…oh, shit.”

  Tears sprang into her eyes, and she looked so utterly miserable and worried that some of Sasha’s anger evaporated. Searching her face, he could see nothing but genuine remorse in this youngster’s expression, and he released her wrists and stepped away from her slowly. She hurried to put the rest of her clothes on as headlights filled the front room. A car door opened and slammed shut and the most delicious scent rooted Sasha to the spot. Before he could react at all, that scent grew stronger. A young woman in a nurse’s uniform burst through the ruined front door, and Sasha stared down the barrel of her drawn handgun.

  The whole situation would have been comical, were it not for the fact that her finger twitched on the trigger as she screamed at him.

  “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my house?”

  Chapter Two

  Macey’s hand shook so much she had to grab her wrist to steady it. What in all that was holy was going on? Her heart had near stopped, seeing Kenny asleep on the hammock outside and wrapped inside the leather jacket of one of the thugs that rode around the countryside on their bikes. The gleaming Harley parked in front of her garage had done nothing to help her overactive imagination, let alone seeing her front door half hanging off its hinges.

  Jesus, she had come to Cumbria to escape the violence of inner-city life, not to find herself having to draw her handgun on…she blanched when a deep, animalistic rumble rose from the massive chest she was pointing her gun at. The vibrations of that growl shook the floorboards, and she took a deep breath in to steady her nerves.

  The intruder to her house shook his head, inhaling sharply, and when he ran a hand through his shock of black, unkempt hair, Macey couldn’t help but notice the way his inked biceps flexed and his chest muscles rippled under the tight black T-shirt he wore. Really, this person…no, this criminal who’d invaded her home should look like a walking cliché of a bad-boy biker, but somehow he made that whole look work.

  Her long forgotten libido had to choose now to notice the way his faded jeans clung to his tree-trunk thighs and hugged the impressive bulge in his groin, and the man had an ass to die for. After all, that had been her first view of him, together with his massive shoulders, before he’d swung round with a grace and speed belying his large, heavy frame, and she found herself caught in the hypnotic stare of his crystal-blue-eyed gaze. It had to be the dim lighting in this room that made it look as though his eyes started to glow and change from the deepest cornflower blue to glowing yellow.

  His scent increased, alluring, dark, spicy, with a hint of earth and danger that sent shivers down her spine, not of fear, which would have been the sensible reaction, but excitement, and the decidedly odd notion that she knew this man. Macey was fairly sure she’d have remembered ever having met this dangerous hunk before, but there was something so familiar about the way his full lips kicked up into a sinful smirk.

  “Careful there now, darling. You don’t want to injure yourself with that gun.” His deep drawl wrapped itself around her senses and threatened to pull her further under his spell until the actual words registered.

  How fucking dare he?

  The walking advert for chauvinistic male took a step toward her, and Macey lowered her gun until it was in line with his cock.

  “One more step, and you’ll lose the ability to pee, never mind any other activity.” Macey was quite proud of herself for getting those words out with only the slightest wobble in her voice. When the infuriating man laughed and took another step, she aimed at his feet and let go of the trigger. The bullet slammed into the floorboards between his legs, and Monika’s scream echoed in her ears.

  Macey threw her babysitter a disgusted look and, narrowing her eyes, brought the gun back in line with Mr. Chauvinist’s groin. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch, just regarded her thoughtfully, and she could have sworn a brief flash of admiration crossed over his strong features before he schooled his expression into a mask of indifference.

  “Next time, you’ll bleed, got that?” she asked, and he nodded. “Now, again, tell me what the hell you’re doing in my house.” She swung her gaze back to the useless babysitter she’d been forced to employ, and took in the wide-eyed male teen, who looked about ready to lose control of his bodily functions.

  Hands up in the air, he took several steps away from her, until he was half hidden behind Monika. Macey inwardly rolled her eyes, and her temper rose when she took in their semi-naked state. She hadn’t noticed that at first in her agitation of getting through the door, unsure of what or who she would find in her house. Judging by the rumpled sheet on the settee and the used condom on the floor, the teens had been having sex on her time.

  Macey drew another shaky breath into her lungs as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. No doubt Kenny had had another one of his sleepwalking episodes and, too busy getting laid by her boyfriend, Monika hadn’t noticed Kenny leave the house.

  That still didn’t explain the biker’s presence, mind you, unless…

  “I’d have thought that was obvious, darling.” His mocking words brought her attention back to him, and the fine hair on her neck rose at the waves of anger that came off this man now.

  “I’m not your darling, and if it was obvious, I wouldn’t be asking you, would I?”

  A grim smile lit up the man’s dark features, and the even set of teeth he sported were a startling contrast to the black beard that graced his jaw. Really, he was all dark and brooding like some sort of avenging angel.

  “And I’m not exactly in the mood to answer your questions while you’re pointing that gun at my dick.” His grin deepened when Monika made a strangled sound at the back of her throat, and then, much to Macey’s surprise, his whole posture changed.

  “Hey, there, little fellow. Did we wake you up?”

  Macey swore under her breath and, hiding the gun behind her back, turned round to see little Kenny waddle into the room. Her heart clenched painfully inside her chest, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she felt her dark angel tug the gun out her hands while giving her a gentle shove toward Kenny. Brief as the contact was, the heat of his hand on the small of her back seared her skin, and the man’s deep rumble vibrated through her.

  “Mama?” Kenny’s sleepy, confused question galvanized her into action, and she rushed over to him and picked him up.

  “Mama isn’t here, baby, remember? It’s Aunt Macey. Did you have another bad dream?”

  Kenny yawned and nodded, and then popped his thumb into his mouth while resting his head on her shoulder. Macey blinked away tears, determined to not show any weakness in front of the stranger, who watched her interaction with her nephew like a hawk.

  “Mama gone away?” There was a world of hurt in that mumbled question, and Macey hugged her precious bundle tighter.

  “Yes, baby, she had to.”

  “K, miss Mama.”

  A fierce growl erupted from the man towering over them both, and Macey swallowed hard when she saw the myriad of expressions crossing over his face, fury, hurt, regret, and unexpected tenderness as he stepped close enough to ruffle Kenny’s hair. The action brought another whiff of his scent with him, and Macey locked her knees to stop them from knocking together. Really, this was
absurd. Why was she reacting this strongly to a complete stranger? One that had broken her door in, for pete’s sake, and one that was now in possession of her gun, and…shit, fuck, and double shit.

  “You should take my…I mean, you should take him back to his bed. It’s late and no child should be awake, let alone wander the countryside naked.” He balled his hand into a fist and let it drop next to his thigh, and Macey had her answer. Just to be sure, she had to ask.

  “You found him?” She whispered the question, mindful of the way Kenny grew limp in her arms, and his soft, snuffly snores filled the room.

  A tight nod was her answer, and then Kenny’s rescuer stepped away.

  “We’ll discuss this later.” He threw a menacing glance toward Monika, and Macey feared for the hapless teenager. She was pretty pissed with the girl herself, but this man appeared utterly furious, so much so that she all but ran up the stairs to tuck Kenny back under his covers. She couldn’t shake the notion that it would be dangerous for Monika’s health to leave her alone for too long with the biker.

  Kenny was naked under the leather jacket, and Macey winced when she saw the myriad of scratches, bruises, and dirt that covered the little boy’s legs. Where on earth had he been? Bile rose in her throat at the thought of what could have happened to him. The countryside was safer than the city, for sure, but still. Kenny, naked out there, all by himself? It didn’t bear thinking about.

  The deep rumbles of his rescuer, as he seemed to be reading the riot act to the teenagers down below, made her push those disturbing thoughts away. Having cleaned the worst of the grime off her nephew by using the pack of baby wipes she always kept handy on his nightstand, she went in search of his pajamas. The lace curtains on his window ruffled in the breeze coming in, and Macey frowned. The collection of soft toys that usually lived on the window ledge had been swept off with considerable force, considering the distance some of them had travelled, and there half on, half off the ledge were his flannel pjs.

  A gasp escaped Macey, as she pulled them off the frame, because the material looked as though it had been shredded. Shivers of unease chased each other down her spine, and she rubbed away the goose bumps that had erupted on her forearms.

  Surely these couldn’t be his, yet when she stuck her head out of the window, she saw the same bright blue pieces of material on top of the rosebush under his window. Decorated with his favorite trains, they were definitely Kenny’s. Besides, the cottage stood way back from the main road, in the middle of nowhere, so chances of anyone coming along with the same exact pair of little boy’s nightwear were slim to none.

  No, Macey had to admit, at least to herself, that Kenny must have somehow climbed out of this window and made it down the building. It sure explained the scratches on his legs and the mud under his fingernails, and it scared the shit out of her.

  His mum had been known to blurt out strange things about his not being normal, but Macey had always put that down to Fiona just being highly strung. You couldn’t believe a word that came out of her flighty little sister’s mouth at the best of times, but this…

  Macey shook her head, threw the ruined bits of clothing into the bin, and, having managed to shimmy Kenny into a clean pair of pajamas, took in his sleeping form.

  Curled on his side, with his mass of black curls framing his face, he, too, looked like some form of dark angel.

  Her heart beat faster at that thought. There were distinct familiarities between Kenny and the man she’d left downstairs, but that was just coincidence, surely? What was the likelihood of finding Kenny’s errant father buried deep in the Cumbrian countryside?

  Fiona had never told Macey who Kenny’s father was, other than to mutter to herself that the boy looked too much like him. In truth, Macey had been surprised that Fiona had decided to keep the baby at all. She wouldn’t have put it past her to abort the baby she’d found herself so unexpectedly carrying, or put it up for adoption, yet her sister had done neither.

  For a while, it had even looked as though the arrival of Kenny had been the making of Fiona. She’d gone clean and even managed to hold down a waitressing job, and then it had all gone pear-shaped when she’d met another guy.

  Macey pulled a face as she headed downstairs. She’d never met this dream guy of Fiona’s and she was pretty sure if she ever did, she would scratch the guy’s eyes out for the effect he had on Kenny, never mind her sister.

  Her lovely, cheeky nephew had turned into a withdrawn, scared version of himself, and Macey had hit the roof when she had seen the bruises on the boy’s body. The confrontation with Fiona had led to Macey being chucked out of her sister’s flat in Glasgow and all contact between them had ceased, until the fateful evening Macey had received a visit from the police.

  She missed her step as she relived the horror of that conversation held in the room normally reserved for grieving relatives. Of course, she had been a grieving relative, of sorts.

  “I don’t know why you’re getting your pants so bent out of shape.” Monika’s shrill voice shook Macey out of her thoughts, and the breath stalled in her lungs when she entered the living room. Dark Angel was pacing the room back and forth in a manner reminiscent of the big cats at the zoo, while Monika stood, hands on hips, glaring at him, and her teenage consort shook his head and seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible on the settee. They’d at least cleared away the condom debris and were fully dressed now.

  “This has got nothing to do with you, after all, and—”

  His furious growl as he rounded on the young woman stopped her mid-rant. Monika went as white as a sheet under her make-up, and Macey held her breath. She ought to stop him, do or say something, but the waves of fury that rolled off him held her utterly in thrall. Leashed aggression rolled off him, yet she sensed that he wouldn’t hurt the hapless teen. How she knew that, Macey had no idea, and she ought to be terrified for surely the mere fact that he was this annoyed had to mean that…what, exactly?

  Before she could get to the end of her convoluted thought processes, his head swung round and she gasped. This time, she couldn’t put it down to a trick of the light. His eyes most definitely glowed before he inhaled sharply, shook his head, and visibly calmed down, and then he turned to face Monika again.

  “Nothing to do with me? When I found that boy wandering on the main road naked? The. Main. Road. Alone. Naked. Dirty.” He accentuated every carefully pronounced word with a jab of his long index finger to the teenager’s shoulder, and Monika winced and took several steps away from him. Not that it did her any good, because he simply followed with that long-legged walk of his that did strange things to Macey’s insides.

  “Anything could have happened to him, anything, and you were charged with looking after my…fuck it.”

  He swung round to glare at Macey, and she swallowed hard when he advanced on her instead and yanked the leather jacket she was clutching to herself like some sort of shield out of her hands.

  “You can’t be okay with this,” he said, and Macey shook her head and straightened her spine.

  The action pushed her boobs out, and his gaze dropped briefly to the way her nipples seemed determined to poke through the fabric of her uniform. Macey would have loved to blame that on the cold, but with this mountain of a man towering over her, his body heat seeped into her, enveloping her in his warmth and scent. Nope, the current come notice me act her wayward body parts were participating in was solely due to this man’s presence.

  Once she was out of his sphere, Macey would no doubt be mortified at her body’s reaction to his proximity. Right now and here, however, she had too much of a hard time stopping herself from pressing those needy points of contact into his hard chest, and…

  Heat stained her cheeks, and from somewhere she found her voice—a breathy porn star imitation of her usual strength, admittedly, but hey, she managed to force the words out.

  “Of course I’m not okay with this,” she said, and breathed a sigh of relief when he took a step b
ack. It enabled her to slip past him and face her bewildered-looking babysitter.

  “I told you he needs watching, that he is liable to sleep walk, yet you bring this…boy…What the hell is your name, anyway?” she asked, turning her attention to the other teen in the room, and the spotty youth gave her a nervous smile.

  “His name is Jack Simpson, and I’m sure his parole officer will want to hear about his putting little boys at risk.”

  The youth made a strangled sound at the back of his throat, and Macey had to remember to shut her mouth. For her part, Monika remained remarkably tight-lipped and found the study of the floorboards most interesting all of a sudden.

  “Parole officer?” Macey asked. “You brought a freaking criminal into my house when you were charged with looking after my nephew?” Macey was aware her voice had risen to a shrill squeak in her irritation, and she crossed her arms over her chest to stop herself from giving in to the instinct to slap the silly girl senseless, especially as Monika’s only response was a shrug of her shoulders.

  “Get the hell out, and don’t even think about asking to get paid. You’re lucky I’m not calling the freaking police on you and Jack.”

  That, at least, got a reaction out of the girl. She glared up at Macey and stuck her bottom lip out in a sulky pout that wouldn’t have been amiss on a glamour model. Jeez, and to think she had come recommended. Well, sort of. Macey would have words with the estate agent, who’d not only sold her this cottage but had also suggested Monika, when she saw the woman again. It would mean a special trip into Carlisle but, hell’s bells, this was ridiculous.

  “You can’t do that, you—”