Captive of the Beast Read online

“Rescue us and take us where?” she asked, not turning around. Not yet. “Another research prison?”

  “We’re offering you protection,” he said softly. “Nothing more.”

  She whirled on him then, giving him a condemning stare. “Protection,” she said flatly, sensing his tension, that he held back details out of fear of her reaction. “Protection is a nice way of saying ‘prison.’ I know how the military operates. My father was part of the exclusive group who knew the down-and-dirty of it all.” She inhaled sharply, and then slowly let it out, calming herself, forcing her voice lower. “You want trust? Then do that ‘earning’ you mentioned back at the lab. Talk straight.”

  He studied her, and she could tell he was weighing his words. His jaw clenched, flexed. “I never claimed to be with your military. The military doesn’t have any idea we are here. They have no idea we exist.”

  She blinked at the unexpected declaration. “Then who sent you?”

  “Consider us a covert special-interest group. We will never expose your secrets. We prefer that you stay off the radar. So while your objective is to avoid becoming a lab rat, ours is keeping you away from those who would misuse your research and your abilities.”

  His gaze shifted suddenly, rushed around the perimeter, toward the dock and the seashore, then back to her. At the same moment, another chill chased a path down her spine, but this time it wasn’t from emotion, but warning. Rinehart’s gaze slid back to hers. His voice was lower now, raspy and intense. “They’ll take you if I let them, Laura, and I can’t let that happen.”

  The protectiveness lacing his words wrapped around her, a warm blanket in the midst of the coldness of reality. Because something was out there; something was watching. And it did want her. Wanted her in a greedy, dark way. She flicked a nervous glance at the sandy shore and stepped close to Rinehart, pressing close to his side. Why, she didn’t know. She had powers beyond what any of her patients possessed. Powers that could protect her from almost any danger if she dared expose herself by using them. Yet, right then, in that moment, she was experiencing sensations never before felt, and for some reason she needed to feel Rinehart close to her. Her skin was crawling, her nerve endings tingling, with the menace surrounding them.

  Rinehart’s arm slid around her, his long, muscular thigh pressing against her own, and that closeness comforted her in a way her powers could not, in a way she didn’t understand. She stared out into the darkness of the woods beyond the beach. “You feel it, too, don’t you?” she whispered, needing to know, for once in a very long time, that she wasn’t completely alone.

  “Yes,” he said. “I feel it, too.” His voice was calm, the energy he put off strong and reassuring. He seemed confident, steady, unfazed by the danger present. Gently, he caressed her shoulder, and remarkably the edginess inside her began to ease. Perhaps it was the sense of finally standing with someone rather than alone, as she had for so long. And though standing with Rinehart exposed her in ways best avoided, she saw no other option. Because whatever was out in those woods was far worse than Walch or any military prison. With his other hand, Rinehart reached for the phone on his belt buckle, punching a speed dial number. She could hear the ring, hear the male voice answer. “Code one,” Rinehart said, and hung up.

  He replaced the phone on his belt and turned her in his arms, his hands going to her shoulders. “Listen to me, Laura. There is more to discuss, much more. Things we can’t discuss in a building wired to hear every word we say. But right now, we are getting the hell off this beach.”

  She nodded her silent approval, ready for action. “Yes,” she added. “Let’s go. Let’s go, now.” He said nothing more, but reached for her hand and tugged her forward.

  They were on the move.

  Chapter 11

  Rinehart’s hand wrapped around Laura’s, offering unfamiliar warmth inside and out. They were running from danger they couldn’t see, danger they could almost taste in the air, smell in the breeze. But it was fading as they neared the lab, slowly easing to a less intrusive presence.

  Laura tightened her grip on Rinehart’s hand, not sure why she felt so compelled to retain this complete stranger’s touch, why it made her feel safer. She reminded herself she had well-hidden abilities she could use to defend herself. Those abilities that had caused her a lot of emotional pain in the past, but here on this beach, in these moments of retreat, those abilities offered a sense of security. She knew she could fight if she had to. She didn’t need anyone’s protection. So why did she want it? Why did she want Rinehart’s right now? Her skin prickled with the certainty of being watched, with the touch of callous eyes. Her gaze flickered along the line of the woods, silently seeking out what was there. Who or what was watching them? She trembled with the intensity of that malicious presence. She knew this was no human she sensed, although she had tried to reject that ridiculous perception. But Rinehart’s words as he described Walch’s group came back to her: Most wouldn’t consider them human.

  As if to emphasize the bite of that memory, a seashell dug into her bare foot, and she stumbled. Rinehart reached for her, caught her. “Are you okay?”

  Nodding, Laura murmured a confirmation and launched back into action. She’d seek answers to the questions in her mind when they were safely inside the building again. And they were close. So close she could see the building now. Just a little farther.

  But just when she thought they would escape unscathed, Laura’s eyes caught on the horizon and she sucked in a breath. Three figures were closing in on them rapidly, three men, their steps deliberate, their long strides seeming as one—a well-tuned fighting machine. These men were soldiers. Were they Walch’s men?

  Laura would have stopped, would have turned away, but Rinehart tugged her forward. She opened her mouth to protest when her gaze sharpened and she recognized these men as Rinehart’s research team.

  Soldiers, she repeated in her mind. They were soldiers. How she could have seen them as otherwise before this, she didn’t know. Confidence grew with this conclusion. She understood soldiers. If their orders were to get her off the island, then they would. But she also knew soldiers did what they were told without asking questions, without their own agendas. What of the agendas of those they worked for? And who exactly did they work for?

  Soon they all communed in the parking lot beside the building. “Give me just a minute, Laura,” Rinehart said, stepping away from her long enough to say a few words to his men, leaving her under the beam of an overhead light.

  She watched them talking, could hear their murmured voices. Reaching deep, she looked inside herself and tried to connect with them, tried to understand how she had misread them before now. Her gaze traveled along Rinehart’s long, muscular legs and settled on his nice, tight backside. She swallowed hard, a flutter of arousal stirring in her stomach. Okay. There was her answer. Her senses were in overload—no, her hormones were in overload, after being dormant longer than she wanted to think about. That womanly need had been dismissed without worry until Rinehart showed up and jolted it to life. And that, coupled with a growing urgency to escape the island, had simply had her in emotional overload. A problem that thankfully seemed to be temporary as she became more comfortable with the feelings Rinehart drew from her.

  Only a minute or two passed before Rinehart and his men parted, the others scattering in various directions as Rinehart returned to her side. “Where are they going?” she asked, suddenly acutely aware of his broad shoulders and towering height as she tilted her chin up to look at him.

  “I’ll feel better if they check the perimeter,” he explained, his tone casual, unaffected. A facade. He was tense, on edge. Trying to keep her relaxed—like that was possible. He added, “I just want to be safe. To ensure there’s no imminent threat.” He motioned toward the building. “But I’ll also feel better once I have you inside.”

  Surprising her, he reached for her hand, laced his fingers in hers and started walking. Heat darted up her arm, a distraction she shoved a
way as she dug her heels in. “No. You said we can’t talk in there. I need some answers.”

  He hesitated, then half turned to her, his eyes grazing the horizon before settling on her face. Another sign he was far from at ease. “Problem solved,” he declared. “Max rigged my room with a scrambler. We can talk there.”

  She sucked in a breath and let it out as she spoke. “In your room.”

  “Yes. In my room.” The edges of that sensual mouth of his hinted at a smile. “I don’t bite.” His eyes darkened. “Not unless you ask me to.” Laura felt heat rush to her cheeks. His thumb stroked her hand. His voice lowered to a whispered promise, “You’re safe with me, Laura.”

  Laura stared at him, her heart squeezing with reaction to his words. She darted back a reply, quick to hide behind a flip remark.

  “The jury is still out on that,” she finally chided. “But I’ll take my chances with you over whatever is in those woods.” She averted her gaze and pulled on his hand to set them in motion.

  His promise of safety still played in her head, reaching inside her, touching her deeply. She couldn’t dismiss the words as she would if someone else had spoken them. Before Rinehart, she didn’t think she’d needed protection, comfort, a confidant. She thought she’d dealt with all those things, thought she’d dismissed what she realized now had only been suppressed.

  They had reached the front steps of the building; the darkness of the woods and what lurked between the masses of brush and trees were now behind them. But a new danger waited inside. She was going to Rinehart’s room, a man she’d practically undressed once already today. A new risk to be faced: the risk of forgetting that Rinehart was still dangerous—the people he worked for, an unknown; forgetting because she wanted him in a way she hadn’t wanted anyone in too long, if ever; forgetting because he made her feel like she didn’t have to stand alone anymore. Rinehart tore down her walls. She couldn’t let him.

  There was too much on the line.

  It took far too long, by Rinehart’s standard, to get Laura safely inside his room.

  They’d taken a detour to check on Kresley’s apartment that, while frustrating, had at least allowed Rinehart some time to update with his team. The perimeter was clear; the building was as secure as it could be, considering where they were. Transportation for the extraction was also in place, a helicopter to ensure no one was left behind. The other option had involved Jag and Marisol simply orbing them all out in small numbers, but the risk of leaving anyone behind in danger, even temporarily, had ruled that out. And now, finally, he and Laura could put everything else on temporary hold for a while.

  They stepped out of the elevator, completing the short walk to his room. Awareness, sexual heat and a whole lot of tension radiated between them as he unlocked the door and motioned Laura inside.

  She eased past him, her shoulder brushing his; his groin tensed with the contact, his desire flaring, the wildness of his Beast clawing at his gut. As if she sensed the darkness in him, her gaze lifted, brushing his with a nervous touch before darting away. Damn it, he had to maintain control.

  But control evaded him as he followed her through the door, his attention instantly snagged by the way the clingy black dress hugged her truly stellar ass. He inhaled, desperate to rein in his Beast, fearful she would sense the primal side of him. He had to protect her from more than the Beast outside this room—he had to protect her from the one inside him. She started to turn, and he quickly gave her his back, facing the door under the pretense of locking up, reminding himself of his agenda to save her and the others, swearing to himself that he would not touch her.

  He had to get by this, had to make sure Laura and her patients were medically stable and ready to move when the time was right. More important than that, Laura had to trust him enough to convince her patients to follow the Knights to safety.

  He flipped the lock, but still he didn’t turn. Instead, he snagged from his pocket the remote Max had passed him on the beach. He green-lighted the scrambler and shoved the device back in his pocket. Then, and only then, he turned to face Laura. Which was apparently all she needed to go on the attack; the delay getting to the room had worked against him.

  “Who are you, Rinehart? What do you want from me?”

  So he’d been right about her growing discomfort. Their alliance on the beach had been forgotten—she’d created a new wall of fear in her mind.

  She was close, not more than two feet away. He wanted her closer, but held his position. “A friend. Someone here to help, Laura.”

  She shook her head, rejecting that answer, emotion thickening her voice. “How can I know that for sure?”

  He searched her eyes, delved deep into their depths and saw the answer he sought. “You know, Laura.”

  “Stop saying that!” she said. “There is no way I can know. You’ve given me no proof. I don’t even know who you work for.”

  They were here, in his room. Alone. A million secrets between them ready to be revealed. The sooner they found a path beyond those secrets, the sooner they could start planning an escape to safety.

  “You know because you sense things.” He decided to go out on a limb, to start easing her into the truth of who and what he was; what the enemy was. “Like we both sensed that evil on the beach, in the woods.”

  A shuddered breath escaped her lips, shock registering in her eyes at his admission. “You’re telling me you sense things.”

  “Only evil,” he said. “And even that has limitations, but I put it to good use. I use it to protect people. It’s what I am, what I do. What everyone who works with me has dedicated their lives to. We’re the good guys, Laura, and I wish like hell I could prove that to you right now. There is so much I could show you, so many amazing things that would astound you.” He took a step toward her, relieved when she didn’t back away. “But right now, I can’t give you an answer beyond faith in your own abilities.”

  “That isn’t good enough when five people’s lives depend on me making the right choice.” The words came out a raspy whisper.

  He forgot about keeping his distance, forgot promising to keep his hands to himself. He closed the distance between them with two long strides, pulled her into the shelter of his arms. She didn’t resist, but her body was stiff, her fingers curling in a tight ball around the front of his shirt. She wanted to be in his arms, but feared being vulnerable. He couldn’t let her keep those walls up, no matter how dangerous touching her was.

  His fingers laced through her hair; his palms framed her heart-shaped face. “It’s gotten you this far,” he reminded her. “Why doubt now?”

  “I can’t let anything happen to them. I won’t.”

  “We won’t,” he assured her. “You’re not alone, Laura. We’re here to help. I’m here.”

  She stared up at him with stormy eyes, turmoil rolling off of her in waves, crashing into him with forceful impact. Filling him with a need to take care of her, to make it better. “I don’t even know who you are,” she whispered.

  He brushed his lips over hers, and he felt them quiver beneath his caress, her body slowly seeping into his. “You know,” he murmured. “Deep down inside, you know.”

  “It’s not enough,” she whispered, the tight hold of her fingers on his shirt loosening. “I can’t…it’s not enough.”

  Those words hit him like a two-by-four, triggered something inside him. Damn it, it had to be enough. It had to be enough or she might not make it out of this alive, and he wouldn’t allow that to happen. He had to be enough.

  He didn’t think, didn’t consider the repercussions of what he was doing. His mouth came down on hers, a kiss meant to claim, a kiss laden with fierce passion—with the anger of her resistance to their bond. It was a primal feeling, an unreasonable one, a feeling borne of a deep fear that she would reject him in the end, no matter what. That thought pressed all others away. He wasn’t thinking of danger, wasn’t thinking of the Beast within him that could flare at any moment.

  He deep
ened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers with long, possessive strokes. Telling her with his lips, with his tongue, he was what she needed. He was her salvation.

  Her body shifted, her hips melting into his. He barely contained a moan. His hand reached behind her, covering that sweet little ass and pulling her tight against him.

  She panted between kisses, her arms wrapped around his neck, her lush breasts pressed against his chest. “You’re doing…that thing you do to me…again.”

  He nipped her lips, telling himself he meant the words he was about to speak. “I’ll try to stop.” He kissed her again, his fingers sliding along her side and brushing the curve of her breast.

  “I don’t believe you,” she whispered, moving her hand to her side so that it covered his. But she didn’t stop him; she didn’t try to detour his hand as it slid over her breast and kneaded the lush mound. Instead, she arched into the touch, her hand tightening over his, urging him to continue. His thumb stroked her nipple, drawing it to a peak beneath the thin black silk of her dress.

  The sweet scent of her arousal touched his nostrils, driving him wild with passion. Rinehart picked her up and started walking toward the bedroom. She gasped with surprise, but made no complaint, her arms sliding around his neck.

  Darkness cloaked the room, yet he bypassed the light switch; the cameras were still there, and the idea of Walch watching them, invading their privacy, roused anger inside him. They had nothing but static sound and the absence of light to protect them from those intrusive cameras.

  Laura murmured his name; her lips and fingers brushed his jaw. He settled her on the mattress, eased her up the mattress as his knees went down with her. With his palms riding up her thighs, he pushed her skirt upward as he parted her legs and settled between them; his cock nestled in the V of her body. His elbows rested on either side of her head; his lips lingered above hers.

  “Laura,” he whispered, their breath mingling, the air charged with their desire. She felt perfect beneath him. Right. Right in a way that soothed the roughness in him, pulled back the Beast. “I want you so much, Laura.”