Protecting His Witch (Entangled Covet) (Keeper Of The Veil series Book 1) (8 page)

Using the sink, she irrigated the wound with lukewarm water. Applying pressure didn’t stem the flow of blood. She needed a replacement bandage. Stat.

Before she could search the bathroom for something useful, blackness swarmed the periphery of her vision. Anticipating she was about to shift back to her world, she clawed for the shirt. The last thing she needed was to appear seminaked and bleeding in the middle of some new awkward situation. Her world turned black.

Chapter Ten

Matt glanced impatiently at his desk clock. Kat had been in the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes. Her coffee had come long ago and no longer steamed. No one needed that much time to primp, no matter how nervous she may be. She’d had the wide eyes of a deer in a hunter’s crosshairs when she left.

Maybe she jumped to her alternate. He hadn’t felt an energy buzz indicative of the power needed for that. Then again, he’d never spent enough time around a Pleiad to know for certain what it felt like when one jumped.

He walked to the bathroom, noting Milo remained camped out vigilantly on the floor in front of the door. He leaned over the dog’s body to knock. “Kat, everything okay in there?”

No answer.

Anxiety compressed his chest.
She must’ve jumped.
“I’m coming in unless you say something.” He turned the knob, finding it locked. He glanced down at the dog and nudged him gently with his foot. “Better move, Milo.” The dog rose with a grunt and stepped to the side. Using his body strength, he rammed the door until the lock broke.

Kat lay inert on the tile floor. His mind quickly cataloged her partial state of undress and the black lace bra. A bloody bandage lay discarded near the trash can and a scarlet pool had formed on the floor beneath her arm. He lurched to his knees and felt her neck until he found a pulse. He released a pent-up breath of relief.

He shook her, but she didn’t stir. To better evaluate the oozing wound on her arm, he gently rolled her. The jagged tear reminded him of similar injuries from his ranger days. Someone shot her? Protective fury flared. Maybe the OLM got to her again, or maybe she’d been shot in her alternate. This woman was amazing. He knew no woman who could tolerate this level of agony without complaining.

Words he hadn’t intoned for over a decade fell from Matt’s lips in a druid prayer to focus healing power. “
Moí coire coir goiriath, gor rond n-ír. Día dam a dúile dnemrib.”
The healing power within him flowed into her. He allowed her to borrow energy from him.

He halted before he entirely healed the wound on her arm. Her skin was still too pale, but she breathed evenly and her body felt warmer. A final healing session would demonstrate his special ability to her, and perhaps give him an opening to discuss her Pleiades status.

He rolled her onto her back.
What the hell?
Kat had a C-section? The yoga pants were a little too loose, making the area gape open. Did she have a child in her alternate?

A possessive, bitter anger surged. Her giving another man a child was unimaginable. She’d said there wasn’t a man waiting for her at home, but maybe there had been. Maybe she’d been married and they divorced. No. No sane heterosexual man would let go of her. She never did answer his question about marriage. Betrayal more vicious than anything he experienced with his dead wife swamped his mind.

One glance at her chest and betrayal and anger drifted away. His heart raced. He stared at the dog tags hanging from her neck
.

Holy shit.

He rocked backward and fell onto his butt. He’d thought the OLM had stolen those twin medallions when he, Bryce, and Quinn had been captured while defending a Pleiad who’d thankfully gotten away.

His memories of that week of incarceration remained hazy. The OLM had experimented on him like a lab rat once they discovered his super-healing ability. Then a miraculous woman appeared as if out of thin air and helped him escape. He remembered her voice, but he’d been disoriented from blood loss and the potent drug cocktail the OLM shot into him, not to mention temporarily blinded as a weird drug side effect. He’d assumed the lady was a guilty employee, but hadn’t considered Kat.

Memories he’d locked away crowded his brain from a time he’d worked hard to forget.

“Bryce, get Matt out of here. Please. You owe me this.” Quinn’s eyes drifted closed. When his eyes reopened he stared intently at Bryce. “Come close.” Quinn whispered something in Bryce’s ear that caused Bryce’s gaze to jump to Matt. Loudly Quinn ordered, “Both of you get out of here. Destroy this place. I’m not long for this world.”

Bryce backed away from Quinn and grabbed Matt’s arm. Matt shrugged him off and yelled. “No! I can help him. We’re not leaving him here like this.”

Bryce whipped Matt into a headlock. “This is what he wants. I’m sorry for this.”

That was the last thing Matt remembered before Bryce knocked him out. He later learned Bryce had carried him from the building. Then he’d blown the place sky high with Quinn inside. The bio-dad he idolized incinerated.

When he regained consciousness, Matt had walked away from Bryce and the druids, recanting any vow he’d ever made to the Society.

Chapter Eleven

Kat clawed her way to consciousness, faintly smelling vanilla potpourri. She scanned the low-lit room—sleek, modern, and in hues of gray. Massive landscape paintings took up most of two walls. She wasn’t an art person and couldn’t identify the artist, but appreciated their beauty. The room lacked personal items and the random crap that came with being lived in daily. So it must be a guest room.

She pushed to a sit and plucked at an oversize navy-blue T-shirt decorated with a logo she didn’t recognize. The shirt was her only clothing other than panties. Where was she? She worried that she’d changed worlds again.

A muscular ache resonated from her right arm. She touched the area. It was bandaged? She peeked beneath the gauze. Her wound had been cleaned and neatly sutured.

A shadow emerged from the corner of the room, moving slowly. “Ready to explain why I found you passed out on my bathroom floor?”

Her gaze jerked to Matt. Relief swept through her that she hadn’t done a world jump and ended up in some weirdo’s bed. How would he respond to the truth about the wound? She said the first thing that popped into her mind. “You know how to suture?”

“I spent four years as an Army Ranger. I’ve seen a few bullet wounds.” His tone didn’t change from its mild timbre. “Who shot you?”

The closer he got, the more vulnerable she felt. His glittering blue eyes never left hers during his slow stalk. Self-preservation had her on hyperalert. She wasn’t sure what she feared more: his interrogation mode or the sexual way his gaze slid over her body. She croaked out, “You were a Ranger?”

He halted when only a few feet separated them. His imposing presence sucked the oxygen from the air around her. “What happened?”

Her head buzzed like she’d had a glass or two of wine, which she wanted to blame on his proximity. Most likely exhaustion and blood loss were to blame. A loud stomach growl made her add hunger to the list.

“Why should I trust you?” Her eyes narrowed. “All I really know about you is that you’re not loyal to your girlfriends, you treat one-night stands like crap, and apparently you’ve made quite a name for yourself not only in the business world, but also in the bedroom since we last met.”

“Do you even know who’s after you?” he demanded. His unblinking gaze intimidated.

She wondered at his tone. He seemed to expect her to answer. Was he trying to use some sort of magic coercion on her? If so, it wasn’t working.

He stepped closer. “Did someone else try to kidnap you?” The menace on his face was enough to terrify a normal person into spilling her entire life’s story. She suspected he wasn’t mad at her, but at her attacker.

She met his determined stare mutely, trying to decipher his mood.

The darkness in his face smoothed into an unreadable intensity. “Please. Tell me what happened this time.”

“Another random guy decided to take me out this morning when I refused to be kidnapped. I have no clue why. I don’t know who wants to kidnap me or how they found me.”

“Damn it. I don’t know if I’m angrier that someone shot you, or that you didn’t tell me you’d been hurt. What are you into?”

“Nothing.” She met his doubtful glower without flinching. “Honestly, I’m not into anything. It’s got to be a case of mistaken identity.”
Even though the kidnappers knew my name.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah. Thanks for fixing me up.”

His gaze slid over her face, brow furrowed. “I need you to explain the fact that Katherine Ramsey apparently doesn’t exist.”

She reeled for a second at the conversation detour. “You had me investigated?”

“What do you expect? You disappeared years ago into thin air. Then you just as suddenly reappeared the other day. So, why don’t you exist?”

“That’s a bit complicated.” She glanced down and fiddled with a loose thread on the comforter.

“Try me. I might understand.”

I can travel between worlds.
She wanted his help. The words were on the tip of her tongue. But suddenly she still feared he’d judge her crazy. “I’m pretty certain whoever is shooting at me probably isn’t interested in you,” Of course, that made it sound like she might have a clue why some guys had been after her, which wasn’t true.

Matt’s lower jaw worked back and forth.

Her heart beat so hard and so fast in response to his intense scrutiny that she felt dizzy and breathless.
You shouldn’t be turned on by this.
This now became a more dangerous situation. If he touched her, she was a goner. Then there’s being humiliated again. Escape was crucial. She rose from the bed, fully focused on departing.

She announced, “I have to go.”

Matt grabbed her arm and halted her. “Sit. We need to talk.”

“Let me go.” She glared at his hand where it clamped onto her forearm.

In a smooth twist, he lifted her and laid her on the bed, lying on top of her. She wriggled to get away.

“Stop it. You’re going to hurt yourself.” He gently restrained her beneath him. She bucked against him for freedom. He gripped her wrists and held them above her head, pinning her with the strength of his muscular arms. “Where are you from?” The determined tone was at odds with the concern in his gaze.

“I need to leave.” She twisted against him. Thrashing did little to remove his bulk, but it did alert her that he was more than ready to take this to the next level sexually. His ramrod arousal pushed into her thighs.

“Please stop squirming. It’s driving me crazy.” His tone suggested that irritation had nothing to do with her refusal to answer his questions and everything to do with how much he wanted her.

Her pelvis grazed his cock. He groaned. “Fuck.”

She stopped. Her struggle wasn’t going to result in freedom, although it did activate every area of skin that contacted his hard body.
Focus, focus, focus
.
Don’t let him get to you.
Somehow she choked out, “Why don’t you tell me
what
you are?”

He froze.

They glared at each other in the low light. She wasn’t about to divulge more truth. His expression clearly indicated likewise. Stalemate.

“Release me,” she requested.

Abruptly, Matt let go of her arms and slid off her. He rested on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his hair.

Her body screamed denial at the absence of his body’s weight. She didn’t move even though she’d been freed.

Softly he said, “Ten years ago you started whatever this thing is between us. You cursed me and then disappeared. How do you pop in and out of my life? Are you playing a game?” He massaged his forehead and whispered, “You really are one of the witches, aren’t you?”

Witches?

His low, teasing laugh sent a wave of goose bumps down the back of her thighs. Her gaze shot to his. His blue eyes simmered. He had shifted gears. This wasn’t the cool, iron will, interrogator Matt. Memory sucked her back to that night so long ago. This was the wild man. The man who exuded passion with each subtle movement. Answering need echoed throughout her body, burning her with the memory of their past.

He leaned over her. His eyes dilated like a cat about to pounce.

“I’m not a witch.” She tried to breathe evenly and mask her body’s reaction to the idea of being pinned again beneath all those hard contours. So big, broad…and, oh God, she was in trouble. Lust sizzled through her every nerve ending.

He laughed with a deep, rich sound. “Deny it all you want.” He lifted her right wrist. His thumb grazed the swirly mark.

A sensual caress shot through her body. She moaned and arched toward him, gasping. “What is that thing?”

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head ever so slightly in what was a look of complete innocence. Or perhaps it was an I’m-not-telling. Then, he shot her a wicked smile before he kissed the mark. His tongue made slow, lazy circles on the inside of her wrist.

It felt as if his tongue trailed a path down her abdomen, although he wasn’t touching her anywhere near the path of the intense sensation. The moist roughness paused in the area of her navel. This man was dangerous and not what he seemed. “Stop it,” she insisted. She ripped her wrist away from his mouth. “What are you?”

“I may not be so different from you.” His gaze dropped to her lips. Subtly, his head dipped.

Oh please,
she begged silently.
Do it. Kiss me!

He wasn’t moving fast enough for her. She reached upward, touching her lips to his. Within seconds, he dominated. Covered her again. The thick ridge of his cock pushed tightly against the zipper of his jeans, pressing into her pelvis. His tongue swirled in her mouth. The teasing taste of Scotch saturated her taste buds.

She wanted to control the kiss, and that was what she fought for. But he fought dirty. His might forced her head backward against his powerful biceps as he licked and sucked and drove his tongue against hers until she was trembling.

Then he stopped. And pulled away.

What?
Don’t stop. Not again.

“Tell me you want this.” His eyes were so dilated that the blue was almost lost. He made a slow pelvic circle where their hips were pressed together, then thrust. Her legs drew up around his hips involuntarily as she fought the urge to lock him tight to her.

Pride and the past flickered through her mind. This man made her crazy. She pushed her hands beneath his shirt and knotted her fingers into his chest hair, intending to push him away, but unable. He groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure. She ran her hands down the corrugated muscles of his abdomen, recognizing the power and reality of the man. Regular men weren’t formed like this. Hollywood actors were either made up to look like this or had implants. And for right now, in this moment, he was all hers.

“I need to know you want this, wildcat. And that you’re okay. That your arm doesn’t hurt too much. That your head is okay from yesterday.” He rained kisses from her ear to her collarbone.

“Yes. I’m fine.” She moaned as her eyelids drifted closed. “Please…don’t stop.”

Their mouths came together hungrily. Her fingers curled deep furrows into the tense muscles of his upper arms. A low groan escaped her.

He broke free of her mouth to yank the T-shirt over her head. A hand covered each breast. He kneaded the tender flesh less than gently and mumbled, “Christ.” After a kiss, he swirled his tongue around a nipple.

Her body arched into him.

He halted.

Uncertain why he’d stopped again, she opened her eyes.

He’d pushed up to rest tensely on his forearms. The muscles of his face were pulled tautly over his cheeks as if he was in deep deliberation.

Hadn’t they just done this? She couldn’t handle his rejection now. She moaned and arched into him.

Hoarsely, he gritted out, “Just tell me this. Are you married?”

“No.”

“Is there another man?”

She shook her head, realizing they needed this honesty between them.

His eyes were twin spheres of piercing intensity a moment before he ripped off his own T-shirt. His mouth enveloped one of her spiked nipples. His dark hair fell forward, tickling her skin.

He tore off her panties with vicious impatience. “You’re tight. And so wet.” His fingers gently massaged her folds, invading and spreading.

Kat undulated her hips, sucking his fingers deep within her. She dug her fingernails into his back. His moan of satisfaction made her grin. Her fingers traced a path to his groin.

“Unzip me,” he said against her breast. She carefully pulled at the zipper of his jeans until the ridge of flesh that had been begging for freedom was in her hands. At that moment nothing could’ve stopped her from palming the fullness. He bowed against her and a low sound rumbled from his chest.

He shimmied out of his pants. In a gravelly voice he warned, “You better hold on. This is going to be a rough ride.”

He linked his arm beneath one of her knees and with one powerful drive, he finally plunged into her body driving through the tight, slick folds, lodging so deep.

The pressure was so great that she bit her lip against a scream. She looked up at the undiluted pleasure on his face, but it quickly transformed into a need for more. Her body had little time to adjust before he began to move. Pleasure washed over her at the friction—at that point between pain and pleasure. She threw her head back and scratched long furrows down his arms.

“That’s it, wildcat. Give all of yourself to me.” He shifted his hand to elevate her pelvis and began a fast tempo. The headboard clanked against the wall with each powerful thrust. She grabbed onto his wrists to lock herself in place.

The powerful strokes coiled her tighter and tighter. The storm spiraling within her was frightening in its strength. Overwhelming. Fear prompted her mind to ask if she trusted him enough for this.

He roughly grated out, “Don’t run from me. Not now. This is for both of us.” He held her thighs apart to force her to continue to accept the powerful thrusts.

Changing his angle ever so slightly, he hit that one location that turned her world into a starry night. Her body shattered. Muscles rippled, gripped, and clamped down.

At the first rush of her climax, he was right there with her. He came fiercely, filling her and groaning her name as he rolled with her onto his back. He held her tight as the waves continued to burst over them both. His fingers tangled with hers while she buried her face in his neck.

She murmured against his skin, “Please, don’t hurt me again.”

…

Sex had never been this good.

She sprawled against him, naked and weak, with the scent of their combined perspiration. He felt like he’d won the lottery and been two-by-foured at the same time. Everything about this scared the hell out of him. This woman unlike any other had the power to crush him. Irrevocably. And she worried
he’d
hurt
her
?

He wouldn’t survive her rejection. He’d spent his youth learning to protect himself against rejection at the hands of the abusive Grant Ryan, who’d hated him for being a bastard son. And a mother who resented that he’d survived birth and was the impetus to turn her husband against her. Then, even though he’d idolized Quinn, his biological father rejected his pleas to remove him from the Ryan household.