The Man Within (14 page)

“Whew.” Merinus breathed roughly as she pushed her fingers wearily through her hair.

“What are you going to do?” Merinus asked her. “This doesn’t sound like Taber, Roni. I know him. He would have never touched you—period—if he hadn’t been dying for you. But his need to protect you would have gone deeper than the hunger driving him. Which could have made him react more hurtfully.”

“That excuse doesn’t help much.” Roni shook her head, knowing that Taber would have indeed been capable of trying desperately to protect her.

He had shown it in the doctor’s lab. His voice had been hoarse, his body so tight, so filled with fury on her behalf that he had trembled with her. The tone had been a rumbled, primal sound, the words barely recognizable as he promised her everything he could think of in return for what was being done to her.

“I need to trust in him, Merinus,” she whispered painfully. “I need more than some damned addiction to his sperm or his kiss. I need his love…”

Merinus leaned slowly back in her seat. “Surely he’s told you.” She shook her head. “Roni, he has to love you, otherwise that hormone would not have kicked in as it had.”

Roni gave her a mocking, half-angry look. “Would I be worried if he had told me he loved me?”

The other woman’s eyes narrowed. “Assholes. I swear to God if all men aren’t the most hardheaded, stubborn, exceptionally dense assholes. I swear they all need to be…” She jerked as wood exploded mere inches from the side of her face, catching her cheek and temple as it sprayed violently around them.

“Gunfire!” Roni screamed out as she came to her feet, throwing the table out of the way and pushing Merinus to the floor of the porch as fire seared her shoulder. “Taber!” She was screaming his name as hard pings began to vibrate around the porch. “Gunfire!”

Men were screaming now, a roar of a lion echoed through her head. Lion? Good God, was it one of the Feline Breeds or a real lion? It sure sounded real.

Cement splattered inches from her, a hole tearing into the floor as she pushed Merinus deeper into the shadows of the porch and the dubious protection of a woodpile that had been stacked to the side. There wasn’t a chance in hell of making it to the door, and from the angle of the gunfire even less a chance of making it around the side of the house.

“Taber!” Her screams joined the frantic cries from the yard.

“We have one down! One down!”

Roni turned back to look into the yard, watching the workers scatter, one of them hauling a wounded man on his back as they rushed for shelter. There was very little.

Gunfire rattled off then. The
rat-a-tat-tat
of automatic weapons, the single sharp bursts of revolvers. And still, wood and cement flew around them as she sheltered Merinus’ unconscious body.

She could smell her own blood, feel the tearing pain in her shoulder from a bullet, the crawling of her flesh as she lay over Merinus, fighting to keep the deadly little missiles from tearing into Merinus’ body, harming her or the child she had spoken of so tenderly.

Men were everywhere, but none close enough, or in position to reach them and drag the other woman to safety. Roni heaved a sobbing breath, screaming out Taber’s name again as another volley of gunfire came much too close for comfort. She felt the wood tearing loose from the side of the porch just above her head, raining into her hair as she hunched protectively over the other woman.

“Roni!” Nothing had sounded sweeter than Taber’s voice at the moment.

She lifted her head, watching in amazement as he came sailing over the low rock wall that separated the grounds from the outer working area. In his hands he carried a lethal, powerful M-16, spraying a round of gunfire over the heads of the fleeing workmen into the area the enemy fire was coming from.

At the same time, the terrible roar she had heard earlier sounded again. Behind Taber, Callan cleared the fence as well, but he came unarmed, his expression savage, rage echoing through the animalistic roar as he caught sight of his fallen wife.

Simultaneously the back porch became a haven rather than a trap. Feline Breeds, male and female, placed themselves between the porch and danger, guns blasting as Taber and Callan rushed for them.

Taber snatched Roni from her position in a surge of strength that amazed her, keeping her off her feet as he threw them both into the open doorway of the kitchen. Callan was no more than a half second behind him.

“Doc!” Callan’s enraged, grief-stricken scream echoed around the house as he seemed to fly by them, bearing his unconscious wife in his arms.

“Are you hurt?” Taber rushed behind him, half-carrying Roni as he forced her farther into the house.

“No…”

“Fuck, you’re lying to me!” He must have seen the blood. “Come on. Downstairs. You’ll be safe there.”

Safe. Her head was swimming, her shoulder was throbbing like hell and all she wanted to do was have him throw her to the floor now and fuck her until she screamed. She moaned in defeat. At this rate, she would be pregnant before three days were up. No more heat, no more bond, and Taber would be gone again. Just as before.

Chapter Eighteen

Well, it was official. Morphine didn’t ease the mating heat, either. But at least the symptoms were a shade more bearable. The good doctor was able to check her shoulder and dress the flesh wound quickly as they all kept a careful eye on Merinus.

The other woman had finally awakened, none the worse for wear. The force of the wood that had hit her temple had merely rendered her unconscious for a while. There was minor bleeding but no complications that the doctor could see.

Callan wasn’t listening, though. He sat beside the small hospital gurney, his body hunched over the bed, arms wrapped around his wife as he held onto her protectively. His large hands ran over her tangled hair, her back, the slight mound of her abdomen where, the doctor assured them, the babe rested safe and sound.

His voice was broken, hoarse with emotion as Merinus tried to soothe the fury trembling through his body. Twice she had been forced to whimper, a more than obvious fake sound of pain, to keep him from rushing back outside when news came that the assassins were contained. Two were dead; another was alive but wounded. Doc Martin had not yet moved to treat the mercenary locked in one of the empty supply sheds.

“Matter of priorities,” he had said calmly when she asked him about the doctor’s oath he had taken. “Besides, if that one dies, there’ll be more to take his place.”

There was a hatred so unforgiving within the older man that Roni shivered at the force of it.

Taber had said very little. He had held her as her shoulder was bandaged and still hadn’t moved but inches from her side as she lay on her stomach, fighting exhaustion and arousal. He smelled too damned good and she was so tired.

“Take your wife to her bed, Callan,” Doc finally said wearily as Callan’s head rose, his body still trembling in reaction. “She needs to rest. And you need to assure yourself all is fine. The danger is over for now. Same for you, Taber.” He turned back to Roni. “Take her upstairs and care for her. Tomorrow is time enough to worry of other things.”

Martin’s shoulders were slumped, his voice tired and so filled with sadness Roni wanted to weep for him. As he moved away from the bed, Callan rose from the chair he had pulled to Merinus’ bed and approached Roni slowly. As she looked into his eyes, she knew this was a man she never wanted to cross.

The golden-brown orbs were almost a full amber, glittering with an animal savagery that she knew wouldn’t hesitate to kill.

“I know I can’t touch you,” he sighed as he approached her, going to one knee in front of her and looking up at her. “I know what you did, covering her body with your own. My men were screaming the information at me as I ran for that damned porch. If I could hug you, I would. If I had riches, I would bestow them upon you. If I had anything to show you the gift you gave me in saving her life, then it would be yours.”

His voice was soft, throbbing with all the pent-up emotion that he was fighting.

“Morphine’s a great little drug,” she whispered conspiratorially, lying through her teeth. “I didn’t even feel a twinge when the doc dressed the wound. You can hug me if you need to.”

A small smile tilted his lips, involuntary and chastising. “You are still the little imp you always were,” he told her gently, shaking his finger at her. “I know better. I could smell your pain as the doctor worked on you, and it flayed my soul to know that it had happened. She would have been defenseless…” He swallowed tightly.

“She’s fine.” Roni knew she was feeling a little giddy from the drugs when she gave Callan a mock frown. “But I want a gun now. I know how to use it.”

“It’s yours.” He nodded firmly, not even bothering to glance at Taber to be certain, as she had expected. “Side arm or rifle?”

She felt a thrill of satisfaction. “Rifle. Like Taber’s.”

Taber groaned behind her.

“Lessons,” Callan muttered, shaking his head at her. “Let Taber teach you the use of it and it’s yours. If you like, you can pick your own.”

He rose to his feet then, a small smile lighting his eyes. “Just don’t shoot Taber, huh? He has his good points.”

“I’m sure he does,” she drawled. “I just haven’t found them yet. I promise to look harder before making a firm decision to take his head off, though.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Taber retorted sarcastically to Callan. “Appreciate the help and all.”

Callan winced. “Yeah. Welcome ole son.” He smothered his laughter as he looked over her head at Taber. “I have confidence in you, though. I’m sure you can convince her to let you live, at least for a while yet.”

Taber snorted, but by then Roni was bored with their male amusement.

“I need a bath.” She eased herself from the bed, testing the strength of her legs, which really wasn’t so good at the moment. “And food. I need food. Pizza is definitely called for in this situation.”

Taber scooped her up in his arms, his grip fierce as he strode quickly from the room.

“I can walk,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the brief respite from her worries that the drugs had provided.

“Of course you can.” He glanced down at her, his lips much too distracting as they curved up into a smile. “But I like carrying you.”

He had always carried her, every chance he had, she remembered. He had carried her when he first found her, huddled in the night, terrified of the sounds of darkness and the men who had run her from her home. Every chance after that, he had carried her whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel in my arms?” he asked her as he strode quickly up the stairs into the suite he claimed as his own.

He kicked the door closed behind him, but didn’t make it to the bedroom. He collapsed on the couch, his arms still firm and hard around her as he lowered his head, his lips covering hers demandingly.

Roni wasn’t willing to just be a participant this time. She had faced death earlier. Had faced the knowledge that at any moment, she or Taber could cease to exist. She wasn’t willing to fight the needs clamoring in her body any longer. Or those in her heart.

She rose in his arms, ignoring his little growl of warning until she was straddling him, staring into his surprised gaze.

“Mine!” Her whisper, despite its softness, resonated with the sense of possessiveness and power filling her now.

His eyes flared. The jade-green color darkening, the pupils expanding as her fingers went to the buttons of his bloodstained shirt. The cotton, though she was sure it was soft enough, rasped her palms as she smoothed it across his shoulders then down to the first button. It slipped free easily.

“Roni.” He swallowed tightly, emotion echoing thick and intense through his hoarse voice.

“You marked me,” she told him softly, determined. “But you didn’t mark me the day you placed your mouth on my neck, Taber. You marked me when I was eleven years old and you carried me to safety. When I was sixteen and you arranged my first birthday party. When you placed that little, all too innocent kiss against my lips. You marked me a little more every time I saw you, every time you touched me. Now, I’m going to mark you.”

She smoothed his shirt back from his chest, over his broad shoulders, and laid her mouth at the point where his shoulder and neck met. There, in the thick, pulsing muscle, she bit him. Not enough to draw blood, just enough that his body tightened, his hips arching and grinding his cock into the cradle of her thighs as his hands gripped her hips with bruising strength.

She bit down, laved the area she held in her grip with her tongue, suckled it deeply, repeated the erotic, sexually charged caress he had given her so many months ago. The effect on him was no different than it had been for her, it seemed.

He tore the shirt from her back as her attention stayed on the tight flesh she caressed with a force that would vary between pain and pleasure. He shredded the cloth then pulled it from her body before his fingers moved to her snug jeans.

“Take them off.” His voice was feral, rumbling, as he pushed the material over her hips, midway over the curve of her buttocks.

Roni murmured a soft sound of pleasure as his hands pushed beneath the jeans, cupping her rounded flesh, his fingers flexing against the firm muscle as he moved her roughly against his jeans-covered cock.

She wasn’t in a hurry, and she had no intention of allowing him to rush her. She needed to touch him, to taste him, to know he was safe and in her arms and that this wasn’t just another desperate dream.

“You’re killing me.” He was panting for breath now, his head tilted to the side, giving her complete access to the strong line of his throat.

Roni realized she had never felt as confident or strong, sexually, as she did at that moment. He was helpless beneath her touch. Rough groans vibrated from his throat, every muscle tense, his erection grinding desperately against the cloth that shielded her hot, damp pussy.

Her nails raked over his chest, the corded planes of his abdomen, then back to his tight, hard male nipples. When she was satisfied she had left at least a small mark on his tough skin, she released the flesh she held, then ran her tongue slowly along his neck. She nipped him lightly under the hard line of his jaw, then licked her way down his throat, feeling the flexing of his skin as he swallowed tightly.