No Ordinary Billionaire (The Sinclairs) (R) (13 page)

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Authors: J.S. Scott

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Suspense

BOOK: No Ordinary Billionaire (The Sinclairs) (R)
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“No,” she verified, swiping at her tears. “When I recovered, I couldn’t bring myself to go back into the hospital. After Trey died, I was already nauseous just from walking in the door. And after all of the wounds healed from John’s assault, I couldn’t even make myself go into the hospital. I started having panic attacks.”

Unable to control his instincts any longer, Dante got up and took Sarah’s hand, pulling her up and wrapping her in his arms. “Who took care of you?” Dante asked in a low, comforting voice as he ran his hand up and down her back. Christ. He wished he had been there for her then.

“My mother. I had an apartment in Chicago close to the hospital, but I stayed with her for a while after the incident. I think it was hard for her, too, because she wanted her independent, successful doctor daughter back. But I couldn’t seem to stop the panic attacks every time I tried to go back into the hospital, and I knew I needed a change. I started looking at smaller cities around the country that needed doctors, and I ended up here. I’ve always wanted to be on the coast, and when I found out how few doctors this town had, I thought it was perfect. I still haven’t been able to go into the hospital here, but I’ve been happy in Amesport until tonight. It was like starting over for me. I never really thought he’d come after me. I thought he attacked me in a fit of posttraumatic rage and grief. If John did this, then he still wants me to die.”

“It was him,” Dante rumbled, holding her trembling body just a little bit tighter. Fuck! Who could try to hurt this woman? Every instinct Dante had was screaming at him to protect her. Sarah walked around in her own intellectual bubble, and that asshole had broken it in the most horrifying of ways. Now, instead of just feeling isolated and lonely, she felt alone and afraid when she’d never done anything but good for other people. He didn’t know much about comforting a woman, but keeping her safe he could do. She was his to protect now—had been since he’d held her soft, responsive body earlier as she went to pieces in his arms.

“I know it’s him,” she sighed. “I can feel it in my gut. Nobody around here is crazy enough or hates me enough to have done what was done to my house. I knew as soon as I saw the message on the wall. It was the same thing he was screaming the night he stabbed me.”

Dante tried like hell not to form that picture in his mind. If he conjured up an image of a crazy man stabbing away at Sarah, he was going to lose it. “You know I’m going to be your shadow until we catch him,” Dante warned her.

“I need to go to work, take care of responsibilities—”

“Fine. Then that’s where I’ll be. Consider me your personal bodyguard. He’s here somewhere, and he knows where you live. Obviously, he knows where you work. It’s not a big city.”

“Oh God, my office—”

“Your office is fine. I called Joe once you went to bed, and he’d already been by your office. Everything is fine there,” Dante informed her calmly.

“Dante, I don’t want to get you involved in this. You already have enough on your plate right now.”

He was healing, and he didn’t give a shit about the rest of his issues. He didn’t have a single thing happening in his life that was more important than making sure Sarah didn’t get hurt. “I’m already involved and I plan on staying that way until John Thompson is either in jail or dead,” Dante growled, pulling his head back to give Sarah an obstinate look. “You don’t do anything without me. You don’t go anywhere without me. If you’re stepping outside, I want to know. I’m not trying to make you paranoid, but we know he’s in the area, and it won’t take him long to find you. We need to nail this asshole, Sarah. You won’t have a damn life until we do. I’d rather have you alive and pissed off at me than the alternative.” Dante couldn’t even bring himself to think about anything happening to Sarah. If she got hurt or worse, he’d lose what was left of his mind.

“This puts you in danger, too, and you still aren’t healed. I don’t like it,” Sarah told him stubbornly as she pulled away from him and sat on the arm of the chair, her arms folded across her breasts.

“You don’t have to like it,” Dante agreed readily. “You just have to deal with it. You’re a woman who deals mostly in reality. What’s your alternative? You know you need protection, and you know we need to catch this bastard.”

“I can leave. Move again. Go somewhere else and start over,” Sarah cried desperately. “It has to be better than taking the risk of someone else getting hurt.”

Dante looked down at her, noticing that her entire body was tense, and she seemed so exhausted that she wasn’t thinking rationally—for a change. “For how long? Until he catches up to you again? Is that the way you want to live your life . . . running away? I can tell you for a fact that it doesn’t work. Leaving Los Angeles didn’t make things hurt less, and it didn’t stop my grief over losing Patrick. I’m glad I came, but the only one who can resolve those issues is me. Location doesn’t make a damn bit of difference.”

“I have to do something,” she told him desperately.

“Don’t even try it,” Dante told her irritably. Leaning down, he put a hand on each side of her hips, looking her straight in the eye. “Wherever you go, I’ll find you. Wherever you move, I’ll figure out where you are and follow you.”

“Are you threatening me?” she asked defensively.

“Nope. Those aren’t threats, those are promises. Trust me.”

Jesus. She’s a stubborn female.

Nevertheless, there was a part of her that was just so damn vulnerable, and Dante could see it. She could put on a brave face all she wanted to, but he understood the hell she’d been through, and he wanted her to finally live a life free of fear, a life that didn’t make her feel different or odd.

“I do trust you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Sarah said hesitantly.

Dante slowly shook his head, unable to understand this woman who cared more about his safety than her own. Did she forget that he was a cop? “I won’t get hurt. This is what I do, Sarah. And I’ve done a hell of a lot more dangerous cases than this one.” But right now, none of them seemed as important as keeping Sarah safe from somebody who wanted her dead.

I need to protect her. If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself and I’ll never get over it. She’s mine to protect now.

“I want to resolve this. You’re right. I can’t run. I’d be putting other people in danger wherever I go. What can I do?” she asked, her voice resigned and determined now.

Obviously her rational mind is back.
“Just don’t run away. I’m not in any shape to go chasing after you, but I will if I have to.”

Her face turned into an expression of concern. “Are you hurting?”

“No. But I will be if I have to come after your beautiful ass,” he told her in a voice of warning.

“You’re crazy. You know that, right? You hardly know me, yet you’re willing to be my personal bodyguard.” Her voice was bewildered.

“There’s no body I’d rather be guarding right now than yours, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead before he stood up again. “I have future plans for it.”

“I’ve already told you that you don’t want to see me naked,” Sarah reminded him warily.

“Oh yeah, I do,” Dante contended, his hazel eyes narrowing into a challenging expression.

“Let’s just get this issue over with and out of the way,” she mumbled irritably.

Sarah stood up in front of him and stepped back. Dante watched in fascination as she crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her makeshift nightgown, and lifted his T-shirt off of her body hastily, as though she might change her mind if she didn’t. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing underneath the garment. She stood before him completely nude, and his cock was suddenly jerking in appreciation.

“This is the body you’ll see,” Sarah told him tremulously. “It’s nothing but scars. The knife wasn’t big, but the scars are numerous and not very pretty. I lived through the attack, but I see the reminders in the mirror every day.”

Dante stood there gaping at her as his eyes ran up and down her body. Sure, she had scars, but that was to be expected after what had happened to her. Otherwise, she was absolutely perfect, from her beautifully formed breasts with pink, generous nipples to her long legs that seemed to stretch forever. He tried not to think about those slender legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her until they were both spent, and failed miserably. The blonde thatch of hair between her thighs was as light as the hair on her head, and Dante wanted to bury his face between her legs and feast on her. Touching her had been mind-blowing, but tasting her would be fucking perfect.

Mine.

The word radiated through his body until he could barely keep himself from taking what he already knew belonged to him.

“Put the T-shirt back on.” His voice was coarse and graveled, his need to sweep her off to his bed nearly overpowering. But she’d been through too much today. Right now she needed a different kind of comfort, and he wanted to give her whatever she needed. “Go get some sleep.”

Holy shit. I need her to cover that beautiful body now, before I do something I might regret.
Not that I’ll ever forget exactly what it looks like. It will be branded in my mind forever.

Fuck! He wanted her so badly he could hardly take a breath, but he didn’t want Sarah like this. He wanted her hot and begging, giving herself to him because she was burning with need. This wasn’t that kind of night, and he didn’t want any regrets later. Painfully, he shoved his carnal instincts down, but he had a hell of a time doing it with her standing naked in his den.
Sex isn’t what she needs. Down, boy!
What Sarah needed right now was a friend, and he’d be whatever she wanted him to be, even if it
was
nearly killing him.

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you about my body,” she mumbled as she pulled the T-shirt back over her head.

Dante watched in confusion as she turned on her heel and hurried out of the room. He heard the padded sound of her footsteps on the carpet as she raced up the stairs before he really understood exactly what was happening.

She thinks I didn’t want to look at her body because of her scars?

“Holy fuck!” Dante whispered fiercely, running a frustrated hand through his short hair. How could she
not
feel the sexual tension between them? Hell,
his
need was palpable, and thick enough that it was nearly choking him to death.

I see the reminders in the mirror every day.

Thinking back on their little discussion on sexual chemistry, Dante wondered if Sarah really bought into all that crap about the propagation of the species and being attracted to the ideal mate—one who, obviously, she was under the impression was minus any scars or imperfections. In his eyes, all of those hardly noticeable marks were part of her, symbols of the hell she’d been through and survived. For him, the whole package of Sarah
was
his ideal.

He shut down his computer and grabbed the pistol from the edge of the desk, checking the locks and setting the alarm system before he headed up to his bedroom. Once there, he set the Glock on the nightstand and shucked off his clothing, leaving it in a heap on the floor.

I was wrong. Sarah doesn’t need just a friend, although I want to be the one she comes to whenever she needs someone to listen to her. She needs a lover, too, a man who will worship and pleasure her body, and it’s going to be me. She needs to understand that physical desire goes a hell of a lot deeper than science.

He had to admit that what was happening between him and Sarah was somewhat out of his knowledge base. Truthfully, he’d never needed a woman as badly as he did Sarah. But he was willing to wing it, to listen to his instincts.

Dante stalked out to the hallway and nudged her bedroom door open with his foot, letting the hallway light flood over her bed. She was there, huddled in the very middle, curled almost into a fetal position. Not certain she’d grab on to him, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, feeling the pain in his ribs as he grasped her ass to keep her steady, but he ignored it.

“Dante,” Sarah squealed anxiously. “What are you doing? Put me down. You’re going to hurt yourself, dammit.”

He walked back to his bedroom with her over his shoulder, stroking her bare ass with his hand, and then smacking it hard. “Stay still. You’re not my damn doctor anymore. You’re a woman I desperately want to fuck. And from this moment on, I’m treating you that way.”

He bit back a smile as she hushed entirely, her body completely still. He lowered her slowly to the floor once he entered his bedroom, nearly groaning as the T-shirt bunched up around her breasts. Her bare skin slid softly along his naked chest and abdomen as her toes searched for solid ground.

Tossing her hair back once she found the floor, she looked up at him, and then down. And then down some more, until her eyes landed on his engorged cock, and Dante couldn’t keep from grinning evilly at the expression on her shocked face.

“You are crazy,” she muttered softly, her eyes never leaving his groin.

Dante opened the top drawer of the nightstand and snatched his handcuffs and the key. He raised the hem of the T-shirt with his other hand, blocking her vision before yanking the garment over her head and letting it fall to the floor.

“Sarah Baxter, you’re under arrest.” He slapped the cuffs on her with her hands in front of her before she even knew what was happening. He made them tight enough so she couldn’t slip her hands out of them, but not tight enough to hurt her wrists. Most of the time, he preferred to be the dominant in the bedroom, and from the quick flash of heat he’d seen in her eyes as he’d been cuffing her, Sarah liked it, too. Problem was, he’d never felt anywhere near this covetous and primal, and his feeling were already way beyond just a game of dominance.

Her confused eyes flew to his face. “For what?”

“Fleeing the scene of a crime,” he told her, talking to her like she was one of his felons. He was pissed off, so he let his anger exit his body with his voice. “It was a crime to cover those amazing breasts.”

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