Insatiable (15 page)

Carina Fardelle and her big, sexy eyes, her constant questions and the way she was strong and so fragile all at once. She’d relentlessly thrust herself into his space whenever she could. He realized she’d begun to understand her effect on him, but there were times when she charmed him. Some little thing she’d do or say would leave him disarmed and pleased all at once.

She looked beautiful. Even as she was supposed to be some riffraff, ranging around looking for work, she looked gorgeous doing it. Damn it. She’d trimmed her hair this time. But whatever she’d done had left it curly instead of straight. It took all his strength not to touch it.

Instead, he worked on keeping his gaze sharp for their contacts and pretended she didn’t make him want to stop and sniff her like a lovesick fool. That level of concentration kept his mind actively engaged on keeping them out of trouble and not on the way she’d brushed against him earlier that morning, trying to tiptoe up and kiss him. And especially not thinking about how close he came to letting her.

He bit back a groan and redoubled his efforts to be on the lookout for trouble.

They’d arrived in Frontera and had easily made it through the checkpoint. They’d heard a rumor that the troops had been diverted to another transport that was set to arrive shortly after theirs had. He hoped that luck would continue to be with them.

Rife with thugs, the criminal element of the portal city in Frontera had been the reason many transports refused to stop for fear of losing cargo. Since his cargo was feminine, on the run from a monster and beautiful, he would have to kill anyone who thought of stealing her.

“You need to stick closer to me,” he said but realized he’d sort of growled it. Infuriatingly, she turned and smiled his way, that knowing feminine smile, and he wondered where she’d gotten that from. Did virgins have that look yet? He made a mistake with her, he realized, in making an incorrect assumption that having her maidenhead in place meant she was naïve about sex. She was not. He needed to remember that.

Better yet, he didn’t need to remember it at all. He didn’t need to think about it in any way.

She’d begun to lose some of her fear, growing bolder in many ways. She settled into herself in some way, taking up being Carina with a sort of wholehearted enthusiasm. Though annoying at times, she was generally a pleasure to be around, even when he didn’t need to be thinking about any of this at all.

“I’m within reach, Neil. You know I’m always happy to have you touch me.” She broke into his thoughts. “Where is our conveyance?” She put her hand through his arm. Instead of telling everyone she was his sister as instructed, she’d told people they were married and had taken every opportunity to touch him and act like a wife.

In short, he was nearly insane with wanting her, and she had no intention of letting him forget it. His mother had a word for what Carina was becoming with him—
saucy
.

“Don’t start with me, woman.” He tried to be light with her, but something wasn’t right. He didn’t like the feel of the streets here. He felt far too exposed and wanted to get her away and safe. “Perhaps we should get back to the guesthouse. I can come out later to see if they’ve arrived.” He steered her away from a group of undesirables who’d just materialized and most likely were the source of his agitation. He sent them a look over his shoulder as he escorted her back around the edge of the marketplace and toward the guesthouse they were staying in.

“It’s getting rather warm out here anyway.” She continued to hold his arm as they walked, and he continued to like it, even though he knew how stupid it was when he could not have her.

He tensed up, keeping a watch on three men who’d walked from an alleyway just ahead. The group he’d avoided a few streets over. Four more appeared, followed by one last man, and they all headed straight for them. Sound died away as the street emptied. At least he could get rid of some of his pent-up energy with a fight. Daniel felt a moment of pity for these probably illiterate morons who chose the wrong mark.

“They’re coming for us,” she murmured.

“Stay behind me. Use that weapon if you have to; don’t you dare hesitate.” He stepped ahead, putting her behind him.

“Looks like you two are a bit heavy with gear.” A mouth filled with few teeth made an ugly gash of delight on the thug’s face.

Daniel knew the look in the man’s eyes, knew they meant to rob him and harm Carina. Neither would be allowed.

He rolled his head on his shoulders, steadying for what was to come. “You should heed my warning and keep moving. You’re not going to be pleased with the outcome if you bring a fight my way.” Daniel didn’t speak very loudly, but the one in charge heard just fine. Whether or not he took the warning was something else entirely.

The snick and gleam of a blade triggered Daniel’s sense of calm. His body relaxed as he focused. White noise rushed through his ears as a blade handle fit into his palm.

“Look here, boys, he thinks he can take us all on.”

Daniel sighed and began to move. Nothing he did when he fought ever took conscious thought; his body, his reflexes simply took over and did the job. A step forward, a lunge with one arm and a step back.

One of the men hit the pavement, blood spilling from a nonlethal but debilitating slice. The scent of copper hit the air, spicing up the stench of open-pit sewers and garbage.

“Well now, looks like I was right to think I could take you all.” He tipped his chin at the groaning, semiconscious man bleeding at his feet. “There’s one less now. The odds keep getting better.”

It was wrong, she knew, very very wrong of her to be excited and titillated by the way Daniel carried himself just then. Even worse to have her heart speed when with two movements so fast and smooth she barely noticed, there was pain, blood and debilitating injury.

She didn’t care. He was masterful, and it moved her. He protected her because it was his job, yes. But at the same time, she knew it was more for him. Whatever that meant, she wasn’t sure. But being protected by such a scary, fierce man was so sexy she couldn’t find it within herself to feel guilty about it.

“You think you’re smart? Pulling that?” The other man—the one who could have used a bar of soap and some water, the sour stink of his body wafted to her, roiling her stomach as she began to breathe through her mouth—jerked his head, and the others rushed toward her and Daniel.

The intensity of the event brought her images, sounds, scents, but no real concrete impression of anything specific.

Daniel’s hair gleamed as he moved with such a grace of economy she could do little more than stare. Small movements sent men falling to the side, blood darkening clothing and the dirt beneath their feet.

Her own blade rested in her hand, at the ready if anyone got past Daniel, which appeared to be an impossibility as body after body slumped. She watched, not really alarmed, as two men flanked Daniel and one rushed past him to her.

All the years of training came back to her, and she rested her weight on her heels, slicing out and up as she blocked the blow. Or thought she did until Daniel, grim-faced and satisfied, turned with a savage grin.

“You did a fine job. Now let’s get off the street before the authorities arrive.” He reached for her and stopped, grabbing her tunic, pushing it aside to reveal her torso and a bleeding slit in her skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He paled, picking her up over her protests, striding back to the safe house without another word.

“I’m fine. Really. I didn’t even notice he’d got me with his knife until you pointed it out.” She clung to him, loving the scent of male sweat and adrenaline all over his skin. She buried her face in his neck, glad he didn’t pull away or try to tell her how bad he was for her.

The sounds around them fell away as he carried her, seemingly effortlessly, up three flights of stairs and into their room.

“Next time you get hurt, tell me immediately.” He put her on the bed, one he’d refused to share with her since they’d arrived, and moved to run a bath.

“How was that not immediately? They’re still bleeding on the street; it’s not as if I waited hours. In any case, I don’t think it’s a problem, Daniel. What’s your last name anyway?” She pulled the tunic and undershirt off, wrinkling her nose when she noticed all the blood.

“Keep still!” He moved back to her and began to remove her clothing. Like she was going to protest? He slid his hands all over her feet and legs, looking for any more injuries. She tried not to gasp or arch, but she’d never felt anything like this, his big hands all over her body. Her breathing sped as a peculiar sort of lethargy set in. How was it possible to feel both things at once? And yet she did.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked as he picked her naked body up and put her gently in the warm bathwater. He began to clean her up, rinsing her off, tending to the wound on her side, which had been, as she’d tried to tell him, pretty minor. Not that she was thinking very clearly as his hands romanced over her naked, wet body.

“I’m fine. I swear to you. Daniel, you stopped seven of them. Seven. That’s remarkable.”

“Not eight.” He moved his gaze from her side to her eyes. “Not eight.”

She sighed, holding his face between her hands. “
You’re
remarkable. You blocked two at once, even knocked him sideways. If you hadn’t done that, I’d have been hurt far worse. You saved me. You’ve
been
saving me.”

His eyes deepened in color, darkened to a stormy green, the brown of the prior day having worn off. The moment, despite her silly chemical attraction to him, sliced into her, the pleasure of it nearly pain. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t imagine—” He broke off, shaking his head.

She stood before him, looking down at this epic male specimen kneeling at her feet. Water caressed her skin as she did, as she watched his gaze slide up her body like another caress, one she’d been waiting for since she took his hand that first time as they fled.

“This shouldn’t be.” So much emotion in that whispered sentence. She should feel bad that she’d been breaking down all his defenses against her, but she didn’t. She gloried in it.

She stepped from the tub, reaching for a towel, but he was there before she could begin, drying her off instead, his gentle treatment such a stark contrast with the man outside, the man who carried death like another blade secreted on his body. He laid a bandage against her skin, wrapping linen around her torso to hold it there.

It was the contrast that set her on fire. The way he could take life with such depth of concentration and skill but dry her off and bandage her wound without even a twinge made her feel special to evoke such care from a man like him.

He tried to turn away, but she stepped in his path, dropping the towel. The room was cool, and her skin rose in gooseflesh, her nipples beading, and not just because of the temperature. Daniel looked at her, looked at her nipples and a groan escaped his mouth.

She had the sense of walking a very thin line. If she made the wrong move, he’d find his control again, and she didn’t want that. She wanted him to let go,
wanted him to take her
.

The door was locked, his security measures were all in place. The bed, the bed she’d been alone in the night before because he’d insisted on sleeping in a chair near the door, was right behind her, so she held her hand out. Not to offer, but to take. She grabbed the fabric of his tunic and pulled, surprising him, toppling him onto her on the bed. Which was slightly painful because despite her cut being minor, it was still a cut and he was, oh my, he was so deliciously solid the pain seemed to recede as she lay there.

“Damn it, Car-Carrie. I’m going to hurt you.” He tried to roll off, tried to see if he’d harmed her, but she wouldn’t allow it. She knew if she let him slide back into caretaker mode, she’d never have him.

And she wanted him so much every cell in her body ached with it.

Instead she rolled up to her knees, pulling his tunic and undershirt off. “You’re not even bruised,” she said, taking in every inch of his exposed upper body. She drew her fingertips along the scars on his chest. “What happened here?”

“Incendiary device blew as I was dealing with its creator. I have scars; he’s dead. Carrie, you have to stop. You’re hurt and you’re naked. This combination is not something I can work with.”

That he said it as he drew his palms from her hip bones up her sides clued her in. His hands on her left her brain addled, but not so addled she didn’t crave more.

“You’re bluffing. You want this, too. I know you do.” Taking a chance, she leaned in, sliding her breasts along his chest. It backfired, of course, as it felt so ridiculously good she nearly fell over. “That’s, oh, gods, that’s beautiful. Is it always like that?”

Hands that had been restraining now pulled her closer. “No. No it’s not.” She heard the anguish in his voice and wanted to weep with joy when he allowed himself a brief kiss at her breastbone.

“More.” She tugged, and they both fell back onto the bed. She looked into his eyes. “Be with me, Daniel.”

“I’m going to hurt you.”

“I told you, it’s just a minor cut.” She tried to undo the waist of his trousers, but he put a hand over hers to stay the action.

“Not just that. Everything. You are not meant for a man like me.”

“Please! A man like you how?”

“You are a princess. You’re soft and feminine and you deserve to be cosseted. In case you haven’t noticed, I kill people.”

She waved a hand. “
For
princesses. And thank the gods you do, or I’d be dead. I would venture to say many more people would be dead if you weren’t a killer. As for the rest? Why can’t
you
cosset me? And who says I want to be cosseted anyway? You can’t just leave me this way. I feel all knotted up; I need you to fix it. I can pleasure myself. I have, every time you leave the room, and it is not enough.”