Dare to Surrender (22 page)

Responsibilities he could replace with a nurse and a plane ticket.

But what about Joy?

Now, suddenly, he needed to see her, or at least to hear her voice. Something about her grounded him, calmed him. Snatching
the cell off the desk, he dialed her number. It went straight to voice mail; she’d probably let the battery die again. He
shook his head. That girl needed a caretaker, too, and Ash needed another responsibility like he needed a hole in the head.

Still staring at the phone, he jumped when it began vibrating in his hand. He didn’t recognize the number, and he answered
cautiously.

“Ash?”

“Joy? Where are you calling from?”

“A nice man’s cell phone.”

Ash’s heart seemed to freeze. “What? And what’s all that noise?”

“I’m in—hang on—what’s your name again?”

Ash heard a deep voice answer, “Dan.”

“I’m in a very nice man named Dan’s car, and I was wondering if you could come help me.”

Ash was already out of his chair and slipping his leather jacket onto his shoulders. “Wait. Joy, where are you? What’s happened?”

“I got a flat tire coming home from Atherton.”

“Where are you? Exactly?”

“Um… remember that place,” she started to whisper, “you and I stopped that time?”

“Yes.”

“I’m near there, on the side of the road. My tire blew, and I realized my cell is dead. I don’t know what I would have done
if Dan hadn’t stopped and let me use his phone.”

Ash clenched his fist around his keys.

“The auto club said it would be hours before they could get here, and I didn’t want to wait alone. Since my phone’s dead,
I don’t know anyone’s numbers by heart. I found yours on a piece of paper in my purse. But if you’re busy…”

“No! Joy, get back in the car.
Your
car. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes.” He said, slamming his apartment door behind him and locking it. “Get back in your car and lock your doors. Wait for
me. I’ll be right there.”

Ash’s truck skidded to a stop behind Joy’s car twenty minutes later. Wow. That was some kind of record. He must have driven
the thirty miles from San Francisco like a bat out of hell.

A second later he was at her window, raindrops hammering down on him, drenching his hair. She rolled the window down. “Hi.”

“Are you all right?” He looked inside the car, seemed to assess her appearance in one sweeping glance.

“Yes. It’s just a flat tire. Now get in; you’re soaked.”

He ran around the front of her car and got in on the passenger side. But first he needed to move the plastic jack-o’-lantern
full of Halloween candy, leftovers from Joy’s favorite holiday. “Want one?” she asked, holding up a tiny Mars bar.

“No!” Turning to the side, he faced her, rain falling off his strong jaw in big drops. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” she said, brushing a bead of water away from his eye. “It’s just a flat tire.”

“Don’t you have a car charger for your cell phone?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes,” she murmured. “But I don’t have it with me.”

“And that would be because…?”

“I lost it… I could have sworn it was in here somewhere,” she said, looking around the car as if the charger would just appear.

He ran a hand over his wet hair, and she thought she saw his jaw ticking. “You really do need a handler,” he muttered.

“I do not! I can’t help it if my grandmother made me come help her move her precious plants off the patio before they blew
over.”

“Your grandmother made you drive in this weather?”

“She didn’t
make
me. Grandmother asked me to.”
And made me feel guilty, like always.
Joy lifted her chin. “I was happy to go.”

His gaze drifted to her hair, which she knew was a mess, and he plucked a sodden rose petal out of the damp strands. He brought
it to his nose and took a deep whiff. “I knew I smelled roses when I got in the car.”

She self-consciously tried to smooth down her unruly locks.

Ash reached out and stopped her. “So your grandmother needed you and you went to her.”

She nodded, loving the heat from his palm on her hand.

“I admit I understand what that feels like. To feel responsible for someone.” And she swore she saw a flicker of admiration
in his green eyes. “But promise me you won’t do anything like this again without calling me first.”

“It’s just rain.”

“Joy… ,” he said warningly.

She smiled. “You mean call you before I get a flat tire? It’s not like I could have predicted it.” Well, not really. She refrained
from adding that she knew the tires needed to be rotated.

“Well, I better get to work,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

He moved his hand toward the door handle. “Changing your tire.”

“No! It’s pouring rain, Ash. Just take me home and I’ll deal with it in the morning.”

“Why? I can have it changed in ten minutes.”

“Seriously?” Joy had never changed a tire in her life, and to her the task seemed about as easy as brain surgery. “Still…
I don’t want you to get wet. Er, wetter.”

He ignored her. “Is your jack and spare in the trunk?”

“Um… ,” she said, biting her lip.

“You don’t know.” It wasn’t a question.

Slowly, she shook her head.

He shook his head, too, but in a different kind of way. A way Joy had seen many times in her life and it meant,
Seriously?

“Flashlight?” he asked.

“Hang on.” She dug through her purse; she was sure she had a mini flashlight in there somewhere… “Aha!” She pulled a black
item out of her bag.

“You actually had a flashlight in there?” he said disbelievingly.

“No, but I found my cell phone charger!” She plugged it in.

“I… you… Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Silently, she watched him exit the car, and then she saw the beam of a flashlight before she heard him open her trunk. He
must have had one in his truck. Of course he did—the man was a freakin’ Boy Scout.

He returned minutes later, drenched, and slid back into the passenger side. That nerve in his jaw was jumping as he silently
pulled a miniature Snicker’s bar out of the jack-o’-lantern. Then he unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. The entire
time he chewed, he stared straight ahead, gazing through the windshield, although it was raining too hard to actually see
anything.

After he swallowed, he turned to her. He looked so serious she backed away a few inches.

“Joy. Your tires are totally bald.”

“Really?” she said, trying to look innocent.

“Yes.” He seemed to be controlling his temper.

She gave a weak chuckle. “Is that really such a big deal?”

“Yes!” he said, and it was the loudest she’d ever heard his voice. “Yes,” he repeated, his voice purposefully calm, as if
he was trying to contain himself. “It’s a fucking big deal when it’s pouring rain, the roads are slick, and you’re driving
seventy miles an hour on the freeway!” By the time he finished the sentence, his voice was loud again.

“Sixty-five,” she squeaked. “That’s the speed limit.”

“Furthermore, even if you weren’t driving a deathmobile—”

“Hey! Don’t call Bessie names,” she said, patting the dashboard.

He ignored her interruption. “—you’d be screwed anyway because you don’t even have a spare tire or a jack in your car!”

“Well, why would I? It’s not like I’d know what to do with them.”

“Woman,” Ash said.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“Come here.” His voice was flat.

A tiny shiver went through her. “Are you going to spank me again?”

“No.” He began rummaging around in her car, twisting to lean over the seat and paw through the disorder in the back. “I knew
there’d be something in this damn mess that I could use.” He sat back down and ran one of her silk scarves over his palms.
It was a colorful silk Hermes, a present from her grandmother. But the pattern had always been a bit stuffy for her, so Joy
kept it in the car so she could put it on at the last minute when she visited Atherton.

“Come here.”

Not exactly sure why, her body responded with a little pulse in her sex. She scooted closer.

“Lean forward.”

She did, and he briskly pulled her hands behind her back. “What are you doing?”

“I have no idea,” he said, his voice rough. “I just want to tie you up. I
have
to tie you up.”

She felt the silk wrap neatly around her wrists, secure and tight. Then he thrust her back onto the seat, and she sat there,
staring at him, her shoulders jutting forward due to the position of her wrists.

“W-what are you going to do?”

“I’ll think of something.”

C
ome on.”

“Where are we going?” Joy stared up at him through the passenger door he held open. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but
it still pattered down upon Ash’s wet head. “I’m still tied up.”

“I know that.” He shrugged off his jacket and held it just outside the car, like a canopy. “I’m driving you home, and in the
morning, if the auto club hasn’t shown up, I’ll call my garage and have them come tow the car.”

“But—”

“No.” He dipped his head, and when he looked back up, she saw that the wicked man seemed to be biting back a smile. “You’re
following my orders, Joy. Your hands are tied, so to speak.”

“You asshole.”

“Ah, I love it when you use special endearments for me. Now, come on.”

Scooting across the seat, she glared at him. Her dress rode up her thighs as she swung her legs out of the car, a fact Ash
obviously didn’t miss judging by the way he stared at her revealed skin and gave a low whistle.

He took hold of her arm and helped her to her feet. “My purse,” she said.

He reached inside and grabbed her big gray bag.
Shit!
The stolen sculpture was in there, and she prayed he didn’t notice it. She had an appointment with the curator at ten, and
she figured by lunchtime her little snafu would be taken care of.

Now, when he was annoyed and she was tied up, was soooo not the time for him to discover what she’d done.

“What the hell do you have in here?” he asked, holding her purse out. “It weighs a ton.”

“You know… things.
Female
things.” She tipped her head forward. “Lots of them.”

At that he seemed to lose interest in the contents of her bag. “Come on,” he said.

“Wait!”

He just stared at her.

“My cell phone.”

She could have sworn he growled, but he just unplugged her phone and charger, dropped it into her bag, and then led her to
his truck. He opened the door and placed her bag on the floorboard. Then he picked her up and sat her on the seat as if she
weighed the same as her purse.

“Buckle up.”

She just glared at him.

“Oh, right.” Grinning evilly, he pulled on the seat belt and leaned across her lap, facing her. He pressed his warm, damp
chest to hers as he slid the end into the fastener. Then he leaned in close but didn’t kiss her. She watched, she waited;
he was so near she could feel his heat, smell his damp skin.

Then he was gone and the door slammed shut. He hadn’t turned off his headlights, and now she watched him as he ran around
the front of the truck, the bright beams illuminating his long, strong form. She couldn’t help but stare. His damp T-shirt
clung to his chest, sticking to every ridge of muscle, and his longish blond hair hung in damp strands down to his strong
jaw. His eyes seemed to glow as green as one of Monet’s water lily petals.

And she was his prisoner.

A shudder of arousal washed over her, and she realized she liked it. She wondered why trusting him enough to give him this
control over her turned her on. But it did. A lot. She leaned back in the seat and prepared to enjoy the ride.

With one hand on the steering wheel of his fully loaded Dodge truck, Ash tried to keep his other hand off Joy.

She sat beside him, cozy in her heated seat, looking totally content to do whatever he wanted, to ride along wherever he took
her. Hands behind her back, she obviously trusted him to take care of her.

Many women had, but for some reason this was different. He liked to control everything, even his environment. But Joy made
him crazy, made him do things he’d never done—or wanted to do. He’d never even asked if she’d wanted to be tied, and that
was something totally new to him. But earlier, out of lust or frustration he didn’t know, he’d experienced a sudden, powerful
desire to own her. To have her belong to him.

Only him.

During the entire drive to her car, he’d been out of his fucking head with worry.
His
Joy, alone on the side of the road, in the dark with some guy named Dan. If even one hair on her head had been hurt, Ash
would have killed him.

Ash had nearly collapsed with relief when he’d discovered her, safe, sound, and alone in her car.

And he’d wanted to kill her as much as he’d wanted to hold her, to reassure himself that she was okay.

Get a grip, Hunter. It was a flat tire, not a rescue mission!

Still, she was lucky she had only blown a tire; something so much worse could have happened. The thought made his chest tighten.

He had to feel her, couldn’t wait another second.

Reaching over, he cupped her thigh. He felt her muscles tense under his palm. “Open your legs for me, Joy.”

She barely hesitated before spreading her thighs apart, and he slipped his hand up the inside of her leg. Then he was slipping
his fingers beyond the elastic band of her panties, and the feel of her, the warm, welcoming feel of her pussy, nearly undid
him.

He cleared his throat. “So wet already?”

“You tell me.”

He dug deeper, pushing two fingers inside her until she satisfied him with a sharp gasp. His other hand clenched the steering
wheel, his knuckles going white. Fuck, he wanted to feel her warm pussy around his cock, not his hand. But not now. Not like
this. Now he wanted to pleasure her, and as he continued to work her with his fingers, she arched off the seat, her breasts
thrust forward due to her hands being tied behind her back.