Then stilled completely as the beast snuffled against her. As her heart slowed its racing, she managed to filter past the panic to realize who the giant feline was.
“Mateo?”
He chuffed, and she shifted to see in the dimness the massive tiger keeping her from feeling the cold. Handsome as a man, even more gorgeous as his cat. And of a fearsome size.
“How? What happened?” She struggled to rise, only to hyperventilate as she realized they were in a tight box of some sort. Walls pressed in on her. Closed her in. Trapped her.
I’m in a coffin buried alive!
“Shh. Bella.” His voice surrounded her, steady and reassuring. The fur gone, leaving flesh.
“Where are we? Are we dead?” Her voice wavered.
“Do I feel dead to you?” was his dry reply. Still just as hot in the flesh. “We’re taking cover in the sledge. The storm was too ferocious for me to drive us back to town.”
Indeed, she could hear it whistling outside. “What happened?”
“You tell me.”
Explain how she’d stupidly opened the door to her enemy. How she’d been taken off guard. She should have woken in a cage. Which could only mean… “You came for me.”
“I’ll always come for you, bella.”
Relief emerged in tears, and she buried her face against his chest, body shaking as the fear took her. He wrapped her in his arms and hugged her, murmuring reassurance.
Slowly, the panic eased, and she managed to drag in deep breaths. “I’m okay now,” she managed to whisper.
“I’m not,” he admitted. “I should have never left you alone.” Guilt soaked the admission.
“You couldn’t have known. But I did. I knew one day he’d come back to find me.”
For a moment, he stiffened. “The kidnapping was targeted?”
She nodded before softly saying, “He found me.”
“The man who held you prisoner.” Stated because he’d obviously been told. It wasn’t as if her ordeal were a secret.
“I should have known I’d never be safe.”
“Don’t you dare even think that. You don’t have to worry about those fuckers coming after you again.” His vehemence enveloped her. Then more ominously, “I took care of it.”
He didn’t say he killed them. He didn’t have to. The very fact should have sent her fleeing his violent arms, but instead, she smiled. “My hero.” She shifted to see his face in the gloom. “Thank you.”
He stared at her, his expression smoldering, and he sounded strangled as he said, “You’re welcome. Want some fruitcake?”
Turned out, he’d come slightly prepared. Under the tarp, with the wind whistling outside, they dined on MRIs topped off with his mom’s fruitcake, fruity and nutty. She was warm inside the sledge, the walls high enough they could move about a little bit, especially once he sat up, his head pushing the tarp and raising the ceiling a bit. He’d managed to dress in the clothes that he’d had the foresight to tuck inside the sledge.
“How long do we need to stay here?” she asked.
“Do you know your way to town in a storm?”
She shook her head.
“Then I guess we’ll have to wait it out.”
“And do what?” she asked.
Talk, apparently. He regaled her with more stories about his childhood. Even told her about his father dying in the line of duty.
“He was a good cop. And a great dad,” he said, his tone somber. “My mom was crushed when he died.”
“Which is why you’re super close.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I’m all she has. You know how it is.”
She didn’t, but given he’d spilled his guts, she had to spill hers. “I never knew my dad. My mom wasn’t the type to stick around with one guy. Grass is greener and all that. She also wasn’t the type to want to take care of a kid. It cramped her style.”
He frowned. “Children are a blessing.”
“Unless your boyfriend starts eyeballing your daughter and you feel old. Then I guess it’s okay to sell her secrets.” Too late she clamped her mouth shut.
“Your mother told someone what you are?” Shock filled the words.
“She never understood why I was different. To her I was a freak. Heck, I thought there was something wrong with me until I met others.”
He sounded sad as he said, “I’m sorry you had a shitty childhood. You deserved better, bella.”
“Kind of my own fault for sticking around.” A bitter laugh. “I mean I knew she hated me; I just didn’t know how much.” Not until she woke in that cage and Shayne, a guy she’d briefly dated but who proved too intense—not to mention she couldn’t stomach the fact he boasted about his poaching—bragged about how her mother had sold him the information about what she was. A mother who betrayed her daughter for drug money.
“You’re sure he’s dead?” she asked, suddenly desperate for reassurance. Opening that door, seeing his face… She trembled. She had to be sure the nightmare was finally over.
“After I killed the two dragging you off, I hunted down the third. They’re not coming back.”
Three people dead because of her. One of them had to be Shayne. As for the other two… They should have made better choices.
She uttered a shuddering sigh. He was gone.
She didn’t have to be scared anymore. And she had Mateo to thank.
It was the wrong time. Wrong place. But she still cupped his cheeks and kissed him. Lightly. Worried the panic might rise to crush her.
When it didn’t, she kissed him again and again, soft pecks that turned into a deeper embrace. He dragged her into his lap, and despite her layers, she felt his erection. But the most surprising and welcome thing of all, desire.
She squirmed as she sought to straddle him, suddenly impatient. He groaned against her mouth as her hot tongue slid against his.
“We really should be thinking of ways we can get back to town.”
“Later,” she muttered. She’d come face to face with her worst nightmare last night, and it proved to be the epiphany that made her realize she’d been living—no, she’d been existing—in a state of fear, waiting for that day.
Wasted her life. Missed out on so many things, like the pleasure that could be had with a man.
“Touch me,” she asked.
“Are you sure?” he mumbled against her lips.
“I think so.” Only to add more firmly, “Yes.”
His fingers found the edge of her sweater and skimmed under, tugging at her thermal undershirt before finding her smooth flesh.
She shivered, not in cold but at the sensation of his rougher fingertips abrading her skin. Touching her. She leaned back that he might tug her shirt upward, baring her breasts to his view.
When he paused, she grabbed his head and pushed it toward the budding tip.
He needed no more invitation. He took it into his mouth and sucked, the warmth of it drawing a groan.
His hands cupped her breasts, pushing them together as he lavished them with attention, drawing gasping moans. When he let his fingers wander, she helped by getting on her knees that he might unbutton her pants and slide his hand in to cup her.