Caleb (43 page)

He
shoved her face back into his chest as they headed toward another doorway.
“I’ll call on you if you’re needed.”

“Don’t
think I don’t hear that silent ‘And that’ll be when they’re making snowballs in
hell’ attached to that statement.”

“The
day comes that I can’t take care of my own will be the day you can start
fighting my battles for me.”

“We
have seriously got to talk about your he-man issues.”

“Uh-huh.”
He started walking, taking her with him.

She
inched forward with her left foot, pushing against his side. She might as well
have pushed a concrete wall. “It really sucks that I didn’t get any vampire
muscle.”

He
kept moving, slowly and steadily. “Even if you had, you’d be no match for a
male vampire.”

“You
don’t know that.”

His
reply was a grunt. It was a small victory, but at this point she was taking
them where she could get them. Her foot tangled with his leg. He handled the
stumble by lifting her up until she caught her balance.

“This
will go a lot easier if you’d let me see where I’m heading.”

“In a
minute.”

She
wrestled a peek down and immediately wished she hadn’t. The sight of a
decapitated body was vividly close. She pressed her face into his ribs hard
enough that she was in danger of leaving a permanent imprint. “Oh God.”

“I
told you not to look.”

“No,
you didn’t. You said ‘in a minute.’ That’s not the same thing at all.”

“It
is to me.”

She
swallowed back her gorge. Her throat was tight in the aftermath. “I’m adding
communication issues to the stuff we need to work on.”

“I
communicate just fine. The way I see it, your listening is off.”

“Uh-huh.”
She stumbled, unthinkingly reaching out and grabbing his bad arm. He didn’t say
a word, just gave a short grunt of pain and an equally short grunt in response
to her apology.

“Seriously,
this is not comfortable, so if what’s ahead of us has an ick factor under five,
I’d appreciate you letting me go.”

A
pause. “I’d say we’re looking at ten and up.”

“Great.”

His
response was to bend his knees, slide down her body, and lift her up. His
shoulder dug into her stomach. Up became down. She braced her hands on his
butt, locking her elbows, shaking her hair out of her eyes, but keeping them
shut. “Okay. This is too caveman even for me.”

“Would
you rather wade through a puddle of blood?”

The
image was too graphic. “I suppose I can suffer it for a bit.”

“I
thought so.”

She
stuck her tongue out at his back. She tried to gauge the distance they traveled
by counting his steps, but math had never been her best subject and the dread
of a psychotic hopeful or a demented vampire leaping out of the shadows and
clawing her unprotected back wore on her concentration. Finally the suspense
got to be too much for her. A quick peek behind revealed nothing revolting.
They’d moved into another corridor. This one, thankfully, free of new death
decor.

“Caleb?”

He
didn’t slow. “What?”

“Thanks
for coming with me.” That wasn’t what she really wanted to thank him for, but
she didn’t know how to thank him for enduring the agony Vincent had inflicted
on him, for holding on because she’d needed him, for being there for her
through the hell she’d gotten them into.

“I
didn’t exactly have a choice.”

Yes
he did. And seeing as how he had, she could admit something else. “You were
right about the other, too.”

“What
other?”

“You
know.”

“No I
don’t.”

Two
more steps and then a rhythmic jostling that took her a minute to comprehend.
They were climbing the stairs. Which meant they were almost outside. God knows
what awaited her there. Her throat closed. She had to take a careful breath
through her nose, holding it to the count of ten before she could find her
voice through her terror. “It was really stupid of me to insist on coming
here.”

“You
disregarded my gut instincts.”

“I
was wrong.”

“You
can make it up to me later.”

“I’m
not sure I was that wrong.”

Something
hard and metal rapped against her butt. The gun? “You will be.”

“What?”

“Sure.”

“What
makes you think that?”

The
barrel tapped her butt again, not so gently this time. “Because I intend to
paddle your ass until you are.”

THE
trip back to the Circle J had been anticlimactic. So
much so, that Allie really didn’t know how to cope with the tension that held
her. She’d been braced to fight something, anything, but they’d encountered
nothing but the dark of night and the uneasy sensation that they were being
watched every step of the way. Despite their clean getaway, she didn’t believe
this was over. Neither did anyone else. The sounds of preparations were
everywhere as the Circle J prepared for war. The only question was who would
they be battling, the Sanctuary or the D’Nallys, too?

She’d
prefer they didn’t fight anyone. Maybe the Sanctuary would be impossible to
talk down to peace, but she was sure there was a shot with the D’Nallys. Allie
rubbed harder at the moisture in her hair, and plopped on the bed. Someone
should try rather than just assume it was impossible. But, of course, no one
listened to her. She was just the reasonable one on a ranch full of
out-of-control males.

Oh
hell. She blew her bangs off her forehead. She was driving herself nuts with
this, and she was too tired to deal with much of anything. She pressed against
her stomach as it rumbled. Tired and hungry.

“Hungry
again?”

She
looked up. Caleb stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, looking so
damn masculine she couldn’t fault her pulse for kicking it up a notch. He
tipped his head back, revealing his own hunger as his gaze dipped to the gaping
front of her robe. He was wearing his hat, which meant he was planning on going
out. “I’m sorry.”

He
pushed away from the wall, his fingers going to his shirt. “Why? Part of my
he-man charm is I like providing for you.”

“You
were going out.”

He
smiled. “Staying in looks much more interesting.”

Two
steps and he was beside her. His hat landed on the nearest bedpost as his shirt
fell open, revealing the hard curve of his pectorals and the washboard
temptation of his flat abdomen. The mattress dipped under the press of his
knee. She leaned back against the headboard, letting his laugh flow over her
like the softest of blankets, sliding her hands up his chest as he came down,
her head dropping naturally into the cradle of his palm.

Caleb’s
lips touched her ear, her throat. Soft, breathless little cherishings so
contradictory to the violent emotion she could feel pulsing under his skin.

“What
are you doing?”

Laughter
buffed her skin. “You can’t tell?”

She
shivered as he traced the curve of her ear with his tongue. “You’re angry.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re
not acting angry.”

The
bed dipped as he braced himself over her. Amusement dented the right corner of
his mouth. “How do you want me to act?” Allie shrugged. “Like a mad man?”

A
press of his fingers and her face turned to his. Desire and anger merged in the
lines there, carving an image into her mind of his power, his intensity, which
only served to remind how much she enjoyed those qualities of his when they
were in bed.

“I think
we’ve played with madmen enough today.”

She
slid her hands over his shoulders, and gave a little tug. “Ugh! That pun was so
lame.”

“Hmm.”
He lowered his head. “Blame it on my being distracted.”

Glancing
between them, she saw her robe had completely slid off the right side of her
chest. His face blurred as he came closer, coming between her and the light.
Her night vision kicked in, taking the color from his face and leaving it in
austere black and white, highlighting the confidence and strength he wore so
easily. So different from her, leaving her to again wrestle with the same
question she’d had since meeting him: What did he see in her?

The
answer wasn’t in his eyes. There, she could see only the iridescent swirls in
his gaze. He knew everything she was thinking, and she couldn’t even figure out
if he was angry or passionate. “We are so not right for each other.”

His
lips aligned with hers, top to bottom, edge to edge, in the barest of contact
that somehow felt like everything. “You feel pretty right to me.”

She
shivered as the delicate friction of his statement wove to her center. She
wiggled in his grip, not realizing how betraying the gesture was until he
laughed softly, seductively. “Open your mouth, Allie girl.”

Suddenly,
she didn’t want to. There was something about him this time. Something
determined. Something that said this was more than sex.

The
stroke of his thumbs at the corner of her lips had them opening despite her
reluctance. “It’s always been more.”

The
words breathed into her mouth, over her tongue. She took them deeper with her
next inhalation, feeling them flow through her being, lodging with certainty in
areas they had no business being. Not in any woman born in the twentieth
century anyway.

“You’re
taking over.”

Caleb
accepted the accusation with the same calm assurance that he accepted
responsibility for her weight, scooting her down, lowering her to the mattress
slowly, gradually, following her down, covering her in the same slow process.
He propped himself above her on one elbow and pushed her bangs away from her
face. “There can only be one boss in any outfit.”

She
slipped her arms around his shoulders as her head hit the pillow. “Why can’t it
be me?”

His
shoulders blocked out the last of the light. “Because you prefer it to be me.”

Yes,
she did. At least when it came to the bedroom. Especially when he tilted his
head just that way, fitted their mouths together the same way he fitted inside
her soul. One millimeter at a time, one breathless moment at a time, blending
anticipation with expectation, hope with promise, until with a thrust of his
tongue, delivered both. Her whimper matched his groan, as if he, too, felt the
power of the moment, the welding that wouldn’t be denied. His fingers curled in
her hair, tipping her head back, opening her mouth for more. More of his kiss,
his possession.

And
she accepted it, welcomed it even. As different as they were, she’d waited her
whole life for a moment like this, a man like this. Passion welled out of lust,
emotion out of passion. She didn’t name it, wouldn’t name it, but she felt it.
From the tips of her toes to the depth of her heart, but if she whispered it,
she’d be lost. Given over to another lifestyle, a future she wasn’t sure she
wanted. Given over to a man who thought so much differently than she did. A man
who had continually threatened to spank her.

Caleb
drew his lips from hers. “What’s going on in that brain of yours, Allie?”

Oh
sure, the one time his snooping would be useful, he chose to respect her
wishes. She kissed the peak of his upper lip, that slight, totally masculine
curve that always intrigued her. “What makes you think I can think of anything
when you’re kissing me?”

“You’re
not kissing me back with your usual enthusiasm.”

She
made a note to work on her multitasking. “I’m just wondering how serious you
are about what you said before.”

It
could not be coincidence that his hand opened on her back and slid down her
spine. “About what?”

“You
know.”

“What
if I don’t?”

His
fingers eased over the curve of her butt. He so knew. “You do.”

“You
in a hurry to get to your paddling?”

“You’re
not?”

“Not
particularly.”

She
curled her fingers into his hair. She loved the way the thick strands felt
against her hands. Straight and cool as silk to the ends, and then just the
hint of curl, just enough to catch on her fingers. “Then I guess we can just
forget the whole spanking thing.”

Allie
caught the glimmer of his teeth before he captured her lower lip. He bit down,
just enough to let her feel the sharp edge, just taking the seductive pleasure
to the edge of pain. Her back arched instinctively at his taunt, presenting
herself for more, blatantly tempting him to give her more. Caleb leaned back,
tugging her lip erotically before letting it go. She sucked it into her mouth,
soothing the sting with her tongue, savoring his lingering taste.

Allie
had a lot to learn about him, Caleb decided. He watched her tongue slide over
her lip, gathering the flavor of his kiss, watched her nostrils flare as his taste
melted through her mouth. Watched as her cheeks worked and her spine drew taut
and arched. Watched and suffered the agony of his desire. Never sated, still
humming from the frustration of earlier. It would be so easy to forget about
her disobedience. So easy, but it would be a mistake.