It wasn’t until a finger traced along her jaw that she opened her eyes.
Damien was crouching in front of her, gray eyes intense and focused on her. How one man could warm her body with a mere look was beyond her. Funny how she was calm now too, as if the bloody man being carried off didn’t mean a thing. Earlier he’d terrified her simply by standing over her. Now that Damien was there, she could care less about the mangy guy and all the rest of the men around her.
“Hi,” she said staring into Damien’s handsome, yet serious, face. Damn, she sounded like a witless teen. At twenty-six, she should be able to show a little refinement, though doing so half-naked, dressed only in a man’s shirt, was a bit of a challenge.
Deep blue-gray eyes roamed down her body, and she could swear she heard a low rumble from his throat as he took in the man’s shirt she wore, the shirt that didn’t quite cover all of her. Her nipples tightened at the intensity of how he looked at her as if he could devour her. With her good hand, she reached and gently traced the bruise on his left cheek while carefully avoiding his bloody nose. Her hand drifted down to his shirt and to the trail of blood there.
“Mine,” Damien said, with a ravenous glint in his eyes that made her hold her breath for several heartbeats. The edge of his mouth quirked up. “The blood, I mean.”
God, her body was growing insanely warm, and not from being physically worn out. She glanced over at the other men, all of whom were watching her. It was like being in the lab all over again. Everyone’s eyes were on her; people were talking about her, but not to her. Except now she had someone safe to reach for. That hard face of Damien’s seemed to soften when his eyes met hers. Her hand, still splayed on his chest, moved to his arm to keep touching him. To never let go, that’s all she wanted.
He’d fought for her against one of his own men.
“Nice shirt,” he said, with a teasing grin. Just like that, she started to relax.
“Gray’s not my color, but I sort of lost my sheet in there… and I guess my temper.”
“I think gray’s perfect on you. Sets off your eyes.”
She didn’t know what to say to that.
Damien’s grin disappeared as his eyes grew serious again. “Sorry, but I have to ask what happened. Why did you attack Ian?”
“I don’t know.”
Damien brushed the loose strands of her hair off her face, tucking them behind one ear. Such a simple act, and yet it felt so incredibly good.
“We need to know what happened, Sweetness.”
She pushed herself to remember, to get past the layer of fear that covered so much lately. The shivering started the second she thought of how Ian had leaned over her. Ian’s scent had struck her as hard as a slap across the face. Shock. The promise of pain. Fear.
“Tess?”
Someone was calling her name, but she was too caught in the memory to respond. A single finger gently lifted her chin, and her eyes focused on Damien. His smile was endearing, if slightly sullen.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. Why don’t we get you back to bed?” He extended his hand to her.
“I don’t think I can get up. It’s my shoulder. Something popped when he pulled me.”
Damien’s eyes shot right to Blade as if Damien knew who she was talking about without having to ask.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Blade said.
Was that a growl coming from Damien? She was lightheaded and not up to much more conversation, but the last thing she wanted was to come between the men. “He pulled me out of there to get me out of the way. I don’t think he meant to hurt me.”
Between Damien glaring at Blade, Blade’s obvious dislike for her, and Frank standing there off to the side sporting a bloody nose, a black eye, and a cut on his chin, the tension in the hallway was as thick as could be. Although, on second glance, Frank’s pride hadn’t been damaged—if she read him right. Not that it should be; he hadn’t done anything wrong. Either way, she had yet to figure out the dynamic between these men. The whole situation was one big mess that she had started and couldn’t even remember why.
“I’m sorry, Frank. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“I’d be happy to fight on your behalf anytime.”
Seriously, was that a growl coming from Damien? He conveniently turned his head toward Callen before she could scrutinize him further.
“Maybe you didn’t recognize Ian,” Frank continued. “I’m not sure what he was doing in your room tonight, but he was in the group of people we rescued the same night as you. You were in the truck together.”
“I guess I freaked out,” she said. It wasn’t far from the truth. But it also wasn’t something she could explain to him without coming off sounding like an idiot. She had recognized Ian, and that’s why she panicked.
“It happens,” Frank said, with a casualness that made her smile. “And a brawl between us is nothing. Good exercise,” he said, with a smile that was convincing despite his broken nose.
Skirmishes like that might happen here, but not where she came from. Then again, her family was as organized as a kitchen junk drawer. At least these guys had a hierarchy.
What were they all still doing here? Pryce had removed Ian, for which she was very thankful, but the others were standing about as if waiting for orders.
When Pryce returned and approached her, Damien’s head turned toward him so fast she could practically feel Pryce’s heart speed up. “I want to check her shoulder, Damien,” Pryce said, the caution in his voice clear.
Her presence had upset the dynamic here. She needed to leave before trouble began.
Damien’s icy blue-grey eyes narrowed, but he moved aside for Pryce. A poke here, a prod there, and then she was on her back again, the world spinning.
When she opened her eyes again, she was on the bed again, looking up at the ceiling. Her shoulder hurt, but not as badly as before. Someone had slipped her arm through the sleeve and added a sling. And she was on the bed again.
“You passed out,” Damien said from across the room, scowling.
“Sorry,” she said.
“For what?” he asked with a genuine surprise. He didn’t appear angry with her, which washed away a lot of her nervousness.
“I…” Tess let out a deep breath and bit back the cry. “I really don’t know anymore.” The enormity of everything she had been through was catching up to her, but this was not the time or place, in front of these men. “I’m not sure what’s going on, where I am, why everyone is so mad at me,” she said, the words tumbling out without forethought.
Then he was there, Damien, pulling her tight to his chest, stroking her back, soothing her. Her tears started flowing, for no reason at all except that he felt like home, and that’s where she wanted to be. Home, away from everything the people in the lab had done to her, away from the pain and the fear that had become her constant companions.
“Feel better?” he asked when she finally stopped crying.
“A bit. Now I’m embarrassed, mostly.”
“Don’t be. If crying helps, then do it. But don’t run from me, Tess.”
“Run from you? I don’t know you.”
His grin was his only reply, but it relaxed her. It shouldn’t have. But it did.
“Pryce fixed your shoulder again. You mumbled…” Damien blew out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his thick hair without finishing.
Oh, how she’d love to replace his fingers with her own, let them weave through his hair, and simply breathe his scent in as her body pressed against his.
“You begged us to let you die in peace,” he finally spat the words out.
She wished she could curl up into a ball and disappear. Tess turned her head to the side, to stare at anything but him as the memories of all the torture, pain, and humiliation returned. She couldn’t recall begging to die, but it didn’t surprise her. Being back here in this room where Ian had stood over her didn’t help.
Ian had been at the lab with her.
Outside her cage.
“Why’d they torture you?” Callen asked.
Damien’s calming hand on her forearm sent a warmth through her body. She was so focused on Damien that she hadn’t even noticed that Callen, Pryce, Frank, and Blade were in the room. They began firing questions at her left and right. It was making her head spin. She blocked out their questions and their voices and focused on Damien’s soothing touch.
These men wanted answers she didn’t have, and she was wearing a flimsy, thin-enough-to-see-through shirt, without any underwear. One wrong move and she’d have a lot more on display than her thighs. It wasn’t as bad as being in the cage, but still…
Tess started to shake. “If you think I’m going to sit here and be interrogated without clothing on, you’re crazy,” she said, forcing the words out, willing herself to be strong, but it was hard—incredibly hard.
Callen raised a brow, and all four men looked to Damien. That answered the question of who was in charge.
“Blade, go get clothes from one of the women,” Damien said, with his no-nonsense voice. “Callen, speak with Ian. Find out why he was up here. And Frank, get cleaned up. We’ll meet downstairs as soon as she’s dressed.”
Everyone except Damien and Pryce filed out. She could breathe somewhat easier.
“Pryce…” Damien was glaring at him, waiting for him to leave.
“Try to rest your shoulder,” Pryce said, ignoring Damien. “I got the bone to slide back in without any trouble this time, but you need to be careful for a while.”
“Leave,” Damien finally ordered.
“She needs to rest, Damien. Your questions should wait a few days.”
“I said leave.” Damien had a definite growl to his voice this time, and for some reason that made her smile. She stopped shaking.
Pryce turned back to her and winked. “Ignore our fearless leader. He’s more bark than bite.”
Once Pryce left, Damien seated himself on the windowsill, arms crossed. His tension was palpable, and Tess wasn’t sure she could handle any questions right now, even easy ones from him.
A knock at the door roused him from his perch. He opened the door only to quickly shut it again. He set the pile of clothing and toiletries on the dresser and reseated himself by the window.
“Please leave,” she said.
Damien looked around to see who she was talking to. “Me? This is my house.”
“And I’m grateful for your hospitality, but owning the house doesn’t give you viewing privileges while I change.”
Damien raised a brow, started to say something, but shut his mouth. She almost laughed at that bewildered look of his. Clearly, he wasn’t used to anyone calling him on his actions. With a slight shake of his head, Damien headed for the door.
“I’ll wait outside. Unless you’d like some help.” He waggled his brows, the shameless flirt, then shut the door behind him.
Getting dressed was a lesson in pain, pain that reminded her of what they’d done to her and how healing was slow, too slow. She should have taken Damien up on his offer to help, but she had a feeling that would have complicated matters. Her situation was messy enough. She needed to get home. Her family had to be worried sick about her.
Whoever had donated the clothing was slightly smaller than her. Though the jeans fit perfectly at the waist, they were tight in the butt. The white t-shirt was straining against her chest a bit too much for her taste, as was the bra beneath it, giving her a pushup effect. She didn’t like showing off her breasts, especially in a house full of men, but it was better than a sheet or Damien’s shirt.
Having his scent on her, hugging her, had been adding to her arousal, and the last thing she needed was to get involved with someone like Damien. Hell, the man had already fought one of his own guys because of her. What would happen if flirting went too far, and she couldn’t stop herself, or him?
Her instincts rebelled at the idea that he’d hurt her. The fear festering inside of her had nothing to do with Damien, Frank, Pryce, or even Blade and Callen, though Callen made her nervous. It was something about the yellow in his eyes and the way he never smiled.
Despite whatever had her on edge, she wasn’t ready for someone like Damien. He was bossy and definitely didn’t like anyone ignoring him. But he was sweet and funny and… Tess shook her head. Thinking of Damien, that mischievous grin of his, and all that hard muscle would get her nowhere. She needed to get dressed, answer their questions, and then ask them to take her home, or at least point her in the right direction. She didn’t even know what state she was in.
Male voices carried up from downstairs. She couldn’t make out the details of what they were saying. Her hearing had taken a hit while in captivity, but she would adjust in time. She had no choice. At least she could use both hands at the same time, now, and she was no longer naked, which was a definite improvement. It felt wonderful to wear clothes again, dignified, after being naked for so many months. But new fears were emerging as she slipped her arm through the sling Pryce had given her. The sling eased much of the pain, pain that should have been gone by now.
Tess pulled her hair into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, trying to hide the wound there. She fingered the small, lumpy scar that all-to visible above the neckline of the t-shirt. The idea of others seeing the scar bothered her, which she knew was silly considering how small it was in comparison to the burns and scars on her back. It was yet one reminder of a year she’d rather forget. With a single tug of the tie, her hair fell loose. With her hair down, no one would see the scar. No, not just anyone. Damien. She wouldn’t be seen as some pathetic female, especially by him.
As soon as she slipped her feet into the tennis shoes, Damien entered without knocking. So much for setting some ground rules with him.
“It wouldn’t kill you to knock first.”
“Why should I knock? It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.”
Her cheeks heated. “Courtesy then.”
“Courtesy is for guests.”
That had her hackles up, so to speak, but she remembered how she’d come to be here. She wasn’t a guest, apparently, and she didn’t feel like a prisoner, so what did that leave? Whatever he considered her, Damien was used to getting his way, and she had kept them—him—waiting long enough.
“I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome. I’ll answer your questions and get out of your hair,” she said, rising to her full height. She was tall at five ten, but he was taller, broader, and full of muscles that rippled in a dance of their own. She licked her lips, with a sudden desire to run her tongue over his pecs and then gradually work her way lower.
His nostrils flared.
Hell, she had let her imagination go, and he’d noticed every friggin’ change of her body, from her flushed cheeks to… She had to get out of here. As hard as it was to tear her eyes off from him, Tess started for the door.
With lightning-like speed, Damien blocked her.
She tilted her head as he stood there staring at her without explanation. She could wait him out. Maybe. Forget about how weak her limbs felt from months in the cage. With him standing there, so close, his scent toying with her, she was seriously tempted to glide her hands down his arms and feel all those lovely muscles, but that would definitely complicate matters.
Instead, she raised an eyebrow. Yeah, she was crazy to challenge him. It wasn’t like she could physically move him, and she didn’t want to give in to him, not yet at least. She still had to figure him out.
With the slightest of smirks, Damien stepped aside to let her pass.
Already her panties were wet at the thought of his hand smoothing down her body, brushing the sides of her breasts. The fact that such a stupid, shallow display of dominance could turn her on wasn’t fair.
Tess tore out of the room as fast as she could. Too fast. As she reached the middle of the hallway, her body temperature spiked, the room started spinning, and her knees gave way. Suddenly, she was on the floor with a large hand under he
r head.
“You said courtesy is for guests,” she said as she lay there, regarding Damien’s handsome face. Her fingers glided over his thinned lips, trying to brush away his worry. It was nice that he worried about her.
He remained crouched over her with one hand cushioning her head and the other overlaying her hand, stopping her from tracing his lips. He kissed her fingertips. “You’re much more than a guest, Sweetness.”
Chapter Four
DAMIEN
Damien had sent his inner circle home yesterday after Tess had collapsed in the hall a second time. Pryce was right, she needed time to recover and regain her strength. Humans didn’t heal as fast as shifters. That’s all he or his wolf needed. Another reminder that she was human. Damien’s brain said to keep his distance from her, but the rest of him had other ideas… many, many ideas. And all of them involved stripping her clothing from her, slowly.
He hadn’t seen her yet this morning, but he could hear her moving about in her bedroom, showering, and getting dressed. He could smell her. From the moment he’d found her in that cage, her scent had invaded his soul and had yet to let go. Now his top shifters were piling back into his house, expecting to question her. But all he could think about was kicking them out and spending the day alone with her.
He didn’t know this woman, not well at least, but something about her intrigued him. Whether it was how she had demanded clothing before answering questions or the fact that she apologized to Frank for getting him in trouble, he couldn’t say.
Yesterday had proven interesting, but puzzling. When Damien had raced back to the house and found Frank with his hands on Tess, she had been completely naked and had reeked of fear, the type of fear Damien had encountered when he’d found her in the lab. That alone had sent him into a protective rage like he’d never experienced. Never mind that Ian was lying unconscious on the floor with blood oozing from his head. When Damien had launched himself at Frank, Damien’s sole thought had been to get the male away from Tess.
Damien’s Dilemma Page 4
