Overheated (3 page)

He was amused to see that her skirt was up around her waist and her top was pulled down only enough to free her lovely breasts. She still had one strappy shoe on, so he removed that for her. His own pants were still around his knees. He shook his head, knowing that his reputation as a lover was suffering today. But something about Sara destroyed his control and made him as desperate as a teenager after his four months of unaccustomed abstinence.

The only thing that made his loss of control bearable was that Sara had enjoyed his body, too. The thought of her sweet face tortured with pleasure, her soft voice begging for his cock, was a memory he would cherish until he was old and feeble. He snorted out a laugh. With Sara around, he would probably still have a hard-on then, even when he was too damned old to do anything but think about it.

He zipped his pants, then fetched a damp towel from his private bathroom and wiped the sticky evidence of their pleasure off Sara’s thighs and the leather. He smiled at her sleepy grumbles as he gently cleaned her and frowned at the circles under her eyes. He cursed as he imagined her terror at finding a dead thing in her bed.

Then he tenderly righted her clothing and covered her with his jacket, leaving her to doze in his office while he went out to conference with Isaac and Grange about her bastard of an ex. That son of a bitch was due for a taste of his own medicine, with three ex-Army Rangers shoving the spoon down his throat.

Chapter 3

Sara moaned as she came awake, wondering at the stiffness in her body. As she sat up, a big Armani jacket slid off her to the floor, and the events of the morning came flooding back.

Oh, God. She had done the unthinkable and slept with her boss—twice. Frantically consulting her watch, she moaned again. A nooner, that’s what it was called. She had to escape before he came back. She could never look into those piercing blue eyes again without thinking of his talented tongue pushing into her, making her cry out in climax. How could she even do a team consult in his office? She would be looking at this leather couch and remembering, and there wouldn’t be a single word recorded on her planning sheets.

Hurriedly cleaning up in Dash’s washroom, she tried to be objective. Looking in the mirror, she finally gave up. Yes, her hair looked like a man’s hands or a freak tornado had rearranged it. And her eyes were, well, stunned. Her co-workers would take one look and know exactly what she had been doing in Dash’s office. It was a disaster.

She had almost decided to climb out the window to avoid seeing him when Dash opened the door. He quickly shut it behind him and crossed to Sara, pulling her against his broad chest and dropping his head to her hair.

“Sweet Sara,” Dash said as he gathered her close.

Sara found herself wrapped in his arms, leaning against his broad chest and soaking in the animal heat of him. As he rubbed big, slow circles on her back, she gradually relaxed and her momentary panic subsided. She slid her arms around his waist and they stood quietly for a moment, rocking slightly, just holding each other, enjoying the shared warmth.

“I wanted to get back before you woke up, but I guess I didn’t quite make it,” Dash said softly, his mouth at her ear. “I don’t want you to think that I would just get up and leave as soon as the fireworks were over. I wouldn’t do that to you, Sara. I wanted to be here to see your beautiful eyes open. I wanted my face to be the first thing you saw.”

He inhaled deeply, burying his nose in her hair.

“I want my face to always be the first thing you see.” His words were blunt, unguarded, and he punctuated them with tiny kisses all along her hairline. “I rushed to get back here so that I could have you in my arms as quickly as possible. I resented each individual minute I was away.”

Sara shrugged, uncomfortable with the tenderness in his voice and how much she wanted it to be real. How much she wanted it to be for her alone.

She pulled back a little. “It was only about an hour, I think,” she said, trying to sound calm when there were shivers chasing up and down her spine from the gentle brush of his mouth.

“God, baby, even an hour is too long to be away from you. Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything before we go out and talk to Isaac and Grange? We need to get the ball rolling on the investigation into your ex.”

Sara jerked out of his arms. “I don’t want to talk to Isaac and Grange about this.”

“Look, there’s no need to worry about giving them the details. Isaac and Grange have heard it all. They need all the facts so they can help you. So I can concentrate on keeping you safe while they catch the bad guy.” His mouth smiled, but his eyes were watchful.

“I don’t want everyone to know.” Her voice was sharp with humiliation.

“Everyone here knows,” Dash said grimly. “I want every agent on alert.”

He wanted every agent at DIG on alert because of a dead bird?

“It’s not that serious,” Sara protested faintly.

“It’s not that serious? The situation is out of control. You need help, Sara.” His voice was determined.

“You think I’m weak because I ran. That I need you to take care of me.” She threw it at him like an accusation, but he could hear the ache behind it. As if
she
thought she was weak. As if she thought she should be able to handle an escalating stalker on her own.

“I want to take care of you. I don’t think running means you’re weak, I think it means you’re smart. You got away from a dangerous situation and started over. Sara,” he said, taking another tack, “killing little animals to get your attention is serious stuff. This ex of yours needs the kind of help only prison can provide.” Dash clearly relished the idea of locking Martin up and throwing away the key.

“We don’t even know if it was Martin. Carolyn is only making a guess,” Sara said stubbornly.

Dash sighed and let his hands drop. “Carolyn has some of the best instincts in the business, and if she has one of her hunches about this Martin guy, then it’s good enough for me. At the very least, it gives us a place to start. Isaac and Grange respect her judgment, too.”

“I’m not saying Carolyn’s judgment is bad,” Sara said, appalled that he would think it. “I just—”

“Sara.” Nothing more, just her name in that dark, persuasive voice.

She stopped and wrapped her slender arms around herself. “All right, say it was Martin, there’s no way to prove it. He’s so clever about planning things. He has a master’s degree in strategic thinking,” she said inanely. She rubbed her arms absently, feeling chilled. “I’ll have to move again. I was starting to like San Antonio.”

Dash was at her side instantly. “Forget it,” he snarled. “You’re not leaving
San Antonio
, Sara. Get that thought out of your head.” He needed her to understand she was safer here than she would be running again. She was safer with him.

“But I can’t stay at my apartment. He can get in any time he wants.” Just saying the words made her feel panicky. Dash took her small, cold hands and held them in his big, hot ones.

* * * *

“Of course you won’t be staying at your apartment. It’s too dangerous.” He was taking her to his home, but wasn’t certain how to state it without making her balk. This closeness between them was familiar to him because it had occupied his thoughts for months, but it would still be very new for Sara. And she could be frighteningly willful at times. He didn’t want her to fight him on this. Maybe if Carolyn suggested it, she would be more amenable to the idea. He put an arm around her back and led her to the door.

“We’ll go across the hall to the small conference room. Carolyn is there now, and she can help us come up with an action plan.” Dash didn’t have a master’s degree, but courtesy of the United States Government, he and his Ranger team had survived some of the worst hellholes on the planet. He always had a series of interlocking plans in any situation, every one ending with the words “or improvise.” It was a standing joke among his Ranger buddies, but it had saved their asses more than once, so they could laugh all they wanted. Dash didn’t care.

Grange and Isaac stood when Dash and Sara entered the room. Carolyn was on the phone, writing furiously on a legal pad and nodding.

Sara sat where Dash indicated, still looking uneasy about exposing her private problems to her co-workers. She seemed to feel that no one else at DIG Security would find themselves in such a circumstance.

True, Dash thought, his people were trained to respond appropriately in a split second to many different situations. According to Carolyn, Sara had spent weeks planning her great getaway, and it hadn’t succeeded for even a few months. He could see where it might be humiliating for her to have to admit that just when she was starting to feel a part of their team.

Dash pulled up a chair directly beside Sara’s, sitting close enough to rest his hand on the back of her chair. He hoped that his warmth and nearness would give her comfort. He was trying so hard to find a way to make this better for her.

It was an awkward beginning, but Isaac conducted the interview very carefully with Carolyn doing most of the talking, filling in the blanks when Sara’s voice trailed away. Sara only had to give a few details from her life before the move, since Carolyn’s remarkable memory supplied nearly every piece of information from both her employee records and their luncheon conversations.

A picture gradually emerged of a man who was precise and controlling, and it was all Dash could do to sit beside a trembling Sara without pulling his gun and going hunting for a target. He met Isaac’s eyes across the table and knew the other man felt the same. In four short months, Sara had become a valued employee and a friend, and they would all understand the pain and fear she had been quietly enduring.

“Where will you stay, Sara?” Grange asked. He could flay the skin off an agent with a few well-placed words, but his voice now was so gentle that tears welled up in Sara’s eyes. “You know you can’t go home now.”

Carolyn opened her mouth to speak, but at a look from Dash, she subsided.

“Sara is staying with me,” Dash stated firmly. He watched Sara closely, seeming to expect a protest, but in truth, she was so close to collapsing that she didn’t have the energy to spare in fighting him.

She searched his face, seeing determination in the set of his jaw, in his burning stare. His absolute resolve to have her with him was more than obvious to everyone in the room. He was being polite about it, but he did not intend to be denied.

Sighing, saying nothing, Sara let her head fall to rest on Dash’s shoulder. His arms came around her immediately, pulling her into his lap and rubbing her back soothingly.

If he was willing to have her stay with him, she was more than happy to accept the offer. She only hoped he was prepared for the consequences, because she didn’t think she could keep her hands or her lips off him now that she knew what sex could be like with him. It was wicked and mind-blowing and she could easily become addicted. The man should come with a warning label for unwary females.

Dash took her temporary surrender for what it was and ruthlessly arranged circumstances to his own satisfaction, even going so far as to have Isaac accompany Carolyn to Sara’s apartment to pack a bag for her. A woman would know what another woman would need, he reasoned. Then, Isaac could bring the bag back to the ranch house.

Isaac and Grange shared a large house that was on his property as well. So along with his standard security men and the horse trainers, Sara would have the three Rangers on-site and on guard. Whenever Dash couldn’t be with her, and those times would be few, he promised himself, someone would be. She would never be alone for that bastard to terrorize her again.

And if he did manage to somehow get by the security at the ranch? Dash mentally shrugged. He wouldn’t mind going a few rounds with the man who put such fear in Sara’s soft brown eyes. He flexed his hands. He wouldn’t mind that at all.

Chapter 4

Sara pushed back her hair and sat up straighter in the passenger seat of the big jeep. She was quickly losing any control of her own life. She had tried to insist on working a full day at DIG, but Dash had immediately vetoed that. He cleared his own schedule for the day and took her to a lovely Italian restaurant for a late lunch. The food was good and plentiful, and Sara ate under his watchful eye.

She tried to skip dessert, but Dash again overruled her, stating that he learned in the Army the body recovered from a shock faster with regular meals and regular sleep. So, thick slices of chocolate cake followed the tortellini. Sara had to admit, she was feeling somewhat revived, even after her ordeal the night before. The Army really knew its stuff, Sara thought.

Dash had taken over, made all the decisions, defined problems and created solutions. He was firm, implacable even, but not aggressive. She could see why he was so good at his job because no detail escaped his notice.