Beauty Dates the Beast Page 10

  “You’re awake,” he said, turning to look at me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Where’s my sister?”

  “Sara’s fine.” A faint frown crossed his face as he studied my wild expression. “Calm down. You’re safe, and so is she. You’re under my protection.”

  “Your protection?” I sputtered. “You think you’re protecting me by slipping me a mickey and carrying me off into the wilderness Lodge of Love?”

  There was a dark look on his face, and his eyebrows drew down over his eyes. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “I should have just tucked you into your bed and let whatever it was come back and kill you and your sister both.”

  “I had a plan,” I muttered. I couldn’t tell him that I’d been planning on disappearing from town before sunrise. “So why here? Why not a hotel? And why isn’t my sister here?”

  “This is my home when I don’t have business in town. I like it here. It’s private.” His explanation was simple, but I sensed an underlying pride.

  “And where are we, Mr. Privacy?”

  He shook his head and returned to pulling things out of the box. A loaf of bread. A jar of peanut butter. A can of ham. “I can’t tell you that.”

  I moved around the island to get in his line of vision again. “Why can’t you tell me that?”

  He shrugged. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with.” His motions as he unpacked the groceries were calm, fluid. Everything he did, he did with effortless grace, and I calmed a bit just by watching him. “I don’t know how this thing knew which house was yours, or which taxi you were getting into the other night. Maybe it can read minds. If it can, I don’t want it knowing how to find you. So it’s better that you don’t know.” He picked up a package of Oreos. “Hungry?”

  Unfortunately, this was starting to make sense. “No,” I said, and resisted the urge to wring my hands in frustration. “Did you have to drug me?”

  He gave me a slow, melting smile. “I didn’t think you’d let me carry you through the woods quietly—not with the scare you’d just had.”

  I blinked at that. “Did you carry me?”

  He grinned and took a step toward me. I warily circled the other side of the island, keeping the counter between us. Beau chuckled. “I did. Carried you several miles.”

  “Several miles—is that how far we are from town?”

  He smiled and didn’t answer.

  “You suck.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “So where is my sister?”

  “Safe,” he said. “Don’t worry about anything else.”

  Not worry? How could I not worry? They didn’t even know what I was worrying about. “Where is she?”

  “With Ramsey,” he said, then repeated, “safe.”

  That made me feel a little better. Ramsey was terrifying—if anyone could keep her safe, it was him. My arms, tight across my chest, eased a little. “And Savannah? Any luck finding her?”

  Tension flashed briefly across his face. He pulled out a can of coffee and set it aside. “No word on her yet. We’ll find her.”

  No Savannah meant that Beau still needed me for his heat. I wasn’t sure if that internal tremor I felt was worry or excitement. “How do I know this isn’t all an elaborate ploy to get me to sleep with you in the next few days?”

  Beau leaned over the counter, and I couldn’t help but notice how broad his shoulders were. “Sweet Bathsheba,” he said, his voice low and playful, “no one said that I wasn’t going to try and seduce you.”

  As Beau unpacked the small box of food—the rest would be coming tomorrow with Ramsey—I felt nervous and uncomfortable. So when he handed me a bottle of scented shampoo, I grabbed it and headed upstairs. Rooting around in Beau’s closets uncovered a few things—first, he was truly a bachelor. I found no extra linens besides two towels. Second, he clearly lived here—winter clothing hung in the closet along with summertime wear. I took a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and hoped that when Ramsey came with Sara tomorrow they’d bring me some clothing.

  The shower was a little slice of heaven. I hadn’t realized how sticky and unclean I felt until I peeled my clothing off and kicked it into the corner. I shampooed my hair twice and lingered in the shower, enjoying the hot water. Once out, I dressed in his borrowed clothing and bundled my dress, undergarments, and hose into a small stack. It reeked of blood and restaurants and a faint hint of Old Spice, and I suddenly wanted to just throw it away.

  When my long, wet hair was combed out, I went downstairs looking for Beau.

  He was sitting with a book on the couch. The thriller was open on his chest and his eyes were closed, his breathing even. He was asleep.

  I felt a surge of grudging tenderness. While I’d been sleeping the drugs off—not at my choice, mind you—he’d been up all night, bringing me out here to the boonies to keep me safe and dragging in his people to keep an eye on my place. I still didn’t forgive him, but I felt grateful that he’d gone to so much effort on my behalf.

  Well, only a little grateful. I sat next to him on the couch and poked his arm. “Wake up, Beau. I need to know where Sara is.”

  His arm shot out, grabbing hold of my wrist. Before I could utter the squeal building in my chest, he dragged me toward him. The book went flying and I flew across the couch as he pulled me onto his lap, my bottom resting on his thighs.

  “You smell good enough to eat,” he said, and leaned in to nibble on my neck.

  Delicious tingles shot through my body and I squirmed in his arms, trying to get away. “You’re trying to distract me into kissing you, aren’t you?”

  “Is it working?”

  “It is not,” I said. “Tell me about my sister.”

  “She’s safe,” he said. “Don’t you trust me?”

  I didn’t trust anyone. I stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “All right, fine. I trust you. Now tell me about my sister.”

  He chuckled and pulled me against him until my chest smacked against his. His chin nudged against my neck and then he bit my earlobe, and all thought about having a serious conversation flew right out of my head. My breath shivered and my hands touched his neck, his shoulders, trying to find a good spot to land. I could feel that wonderful heat radiating through his clothing.

  His teeth tugged at my earlobe, sending my blood rushing through my body and shivers down my spine. My hands curled in his hair. Something low rumbled in his chest—almost like purring, and he brushed my wet hair aside to nip at my neck again. “My tasty little Bathsheba,” he murmured against my skin. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.”

  It was hard to think when he did that to me. His hand wrapped in my wet, heavy hair, exposing more of my neck, and my nipples tightened in response, my pulse growing heavy. My hand threaded through his hair as he nuzzled the tender skin of my neck, the scrape of one day’s growth of his beard stubble on my skin harsh yet exciting. His other hand slid down my side, cupping my bottom through the sweatpants.

  He was very, very good at distracting me, I thought as I curled my fingers in his hair. Almost too good. I jerked on his hair, pulling his face away from my neck. “Not so fast there, Casanova. I want an answer.”

  He chuckled. “Can’t help myself. You just look so delicious sitting there in my clothing.”

  Well, I certainly wasn’t averse to compliments—or to having him nibble on me—so I returned his smile. “You’re trying to distract me with kisses.”

  “And here you said you weren’t susceptible,” he said, all teasing.

  “Oh, I’m susceptible all right,” I said. “If you kiss me again, I won’t be able to think of anything else for the rest of the day.”

  A pleased smile crossed his face. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told him that he scrambled my brains with his touch. Sara would shake her head at my awful flirting skills—

  “Sara,” I blurted, knotting my fingers in Beau’s short hair again. “Where is my sister?”

  “It’s taken care of,” he said in that now anno
yingly confident voice. “Ramsey is my second-in-command. He’ll handle it while you’re here.”

  “Sara is not an ‘it,’ she is a person and I need her. We have someplace we have to be.” Like a couple hundred miles from here.

  “At work? I told Giselle you had a family emergency.”

  I gave a moan of dismay and sank down on the arm of the couch. God, I hadn’t even thought about work. “You didn’t talk to Giselle.”

  “I did. She said to tell you that she’d take care of everything.”

  I moaned even louder. Knowing Giselle, that was a bad sign. Given that I’d ditched Garth last night, and now I wasn’t there to hit the new string of dates she’d set up for me, she’d take care of things, all right. She’d start by telling everyone that Sara was a wolf, and we wouldn’t be able to get away before the wolf pack caught on.

  I looked over at Beau, an idea sparking. “Will Ramsey do anything you want?”

  He stiffened, as if I’d wounded his masculine pride. “Of course he will.”

  “Good,” I said, thinking fast. “Tell him to kidnap Sara, too. She’s in danger. Those monsters might be after her.”

  He paused, clearly thinking. “You’re asking me to organize her abduction.”

  I threw one of the couch pillows at him. “You abducted me, you moron! What’s one more?”

  He grinned. “Yours isn’t an abduction but a seduction. It’ll never hold up in a court of law.”

  “Bullshit,” I said. “Don’t change the topic. Now, are you going to call that mammoth that you call Ramsey?”

  “You’re ferocious when it comes to your sister, you know that?”

  “Sara’s the only person I care about.”

  His eyes darkened. “The only person?” Before I could comment on his reaction, he said, “All right. I’ll do it in exchange for a favor from you.”

  I gave him a wary look. “What sort of favor?” Spread your legs and act interested?

  The smug grin returned. “You need to kiss me again.”

  “Kiss you?” I sputtered. “Remember the part where I broke up with you? Not seeing each other means there’s no kissing.” My heart pounded in my chest. He did have the sexiest damn mouth. Even as I stared at it, his lips curved into a smile that I wanted to lick right off his face.

  Beau closed his eyes. “I don’t think your motivations were solid. Kiss me and we’ll save Sara. Those are the rules.”

  “This isn’t a game,” I snapped. “This is Sara’s life.”

  “Then I guess you’d better get started.” He didn’t move a muscle.

  I waited a moment longer, exasperated by his stupid game. He remained motionless, his arms at his sides. I still smelled a trap.

  I slid forward an inch or two on the couch.

  A pleased rumble emitted from his chest and his mouth curved into a smile, his eyes still closed. “That’s it. Come closer.”

  I slapped his chest lightly in irritation. “Don’t you mean, ‘Come into my web, said the spider to the fly’?”

  “That would imply that I’m going to eat you,” he said, his words soft. “It’s your lips that are going to be moving.”

  A tingle shot through me. I moved a little closer until I was near enough to kiss him. He was sprawled out and I couldn’t find a good angle to lean in, so I straddled his leg and slid forward a bit more.

  He groaned and shifted slightly, his thigh pressing against the V of my legs. “I liked that.”

  I poked him in the chest. “Hush. I’m concentrating.”

  “Sorry,” he said in a tone of voice that was anything but.

  I inched closer, moving a little bit further down his thigh, feeling surprisingly vulnerable. But he didn’t move a muscle, so I leaned in. My breasts grazed his chest and I pulled back at the sensation.

  He groaned, the confident smile fading. “Tease.”

  I had to admit, I liked that reaction. So I leaned in again, making sure to brush up against his chest once more, and I kissed him.

  At first, it was just a light press of my mouth to his. I expected him to take control, but to my surprise he remained still. Then the challenge hit me and I suddenly wanted to see him lose control. If this was a contest, I was determined to win.

  I excelled at tug-of-war.

  So I kissed his full and sensual lower lip first, giving it a light bite and then soothing it with the tip of my tongue. His breath rasped at that, sweet and hot against my mouth, and it made me bolder. I traced both lips with my own, then repeated the motion with my tongue, every so often dipping mine into the faint crease of his mouth. He still didn’t move, but his breath quickened against my own.

  I slid my tongue into his mouth, searching for his. Beau tasted terrific—warm, musky, delicious. A soft noise of pleasure escaped my throat.

  That sent him over the edge. Suddenly one hand was at the base of my skull, the other one grabbing my ass, and he pulled me against him, his tongue fiercely meeting my own. It was a dance, a flirtation of tongues. Taste, tangle, retreat. It went on for long moments, lips meeting with each tongue thrust, until I gasped for air and broke away.

  He gave me a hot-eyed look, breathing hard. “You don’t kiss like a virgin.”

  Irritated, I tried to shove him away. “That’s right,” I said sarcastically. “You’ve figured me out. I moonlight as a professional call girl.”

  “That explains your weird hair yesterday,” he said, and winced when I slapped his shoulder.

  “Very funny.” The hand in my hair had slid down my back, holding me against his chest. “Now please call Ramsey about Sara. I’m really worried about her.”

  He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. “She’s already been moved.”

  “What?”

  He grinned, pleased as could be. “Ramsey took care of it last night while you were out. Sara is hiding out at a safe location, much like you and me. We decided to separate the two of you to determine which is the target.”

  I knew who was chasing her, and why. She’d never be safe as long as I kept that a secret … but how could I tell Beau that the reason I knew the wolf pack was after Sara was that she was the runaway female they were demanding in exchange for Savannah?

  I couldn’t. And I needed to hear her voice to know she was okay.

  “Beau,” I said in a warning voice.

  He shifted under me, prying something out of his back jeans pocket. “Here,” he said, handing me the phone. “Call Ramsey if you’d like.”

  I flipped open the phone and paged through the address book—noting with irritation that a good many names were female, and Arabella’s name was still in his list—and hit dial when I saw Ramsey’s name.

  “Yes?” he said, answering on the first ring. If I thought Beau’s voice was deep, Ramsey’s voice was the abyss. It definitely matched his Godzilla-sized body.

  “This is Bathsheba. I need to talk to Sara.”

  A moment later, Sara’s voice chirped into my ear, “Hello?”

  “It’s me, Bath. Are you all right? Where are you?”

  She paused for a moment. “Ramsey says it’s not safe for me to say. How are you? Are you okay?”

  It was really starting to irritate me that Beau and his cronies could waltz into our lives, turn them upside down, and we were suddenly dancing to their tunes. I glanced at Beau, who was obviously listening in on the conversation, and I was positive Ramsey was doing the same. I couldn’t tell her that the wolves were after us. “I’m fine. And you? You’re … fine? You’re being careful?”

  Sara sounded almost shy. “I’m good. No problems on this end. I’m being careful.”

  I exhaled in relief, knowing what she was saying. “That’s good. That’s very good.”

  “It’s okay, Bath. I’m going to stay here with Ramsey and the rest of the Russell clan for a few days. It’s going to be fine.”

  “Okay,” I said, as if our lives hadn’t all been torn to shit at the moment.

  But her voice was even and steady, and
didn’t have the vibrato of fear that I’d become so attuned to. Whatever was going on, she felt safe, and that made me relax.

  “I have to go,” she said after a few minutes. “We’re picking teams for Xbox and I don’t want to be stuck with Jeremiah again. He sucks at Call of Duty—all thumbs. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you.”

  “Love you,” I said slowly, but she had already hung up. I felt a little stung. Wasn’t she even worried about any of this?

  “She knows you’re safe with me,” Beau offered, almost as if he could read my mind. “And that she’s safe with Ramsey. He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her.”

  “I know,” I said softly. “I just worry about her.”

  His mouth quirked into a half smile. “You mother Sara, don’t you? For all that she’s maybe a year younger than you—”

  “Two years,” I offered.

  “—you still treat her like she’s a kid. You like being needed, and you like being the one to get her out of a scrape. But it’s all taken care of now, so you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

  I rolled my eyes at his psychoanalysis. “That’s not true. I’m happy that she’s fine, but I’m still worried about her even if she’s not.”

  “She’s as safe as can be with Ramsey. Don’t you worry about her one bit.”

  Easier said than done.

  He touched the underside of my chin. “You do know what this means, right?”

  “What’s that?” I said warily.

  “It means you and I can relax here and do whatever we want … which means you can make me pancakes.”

  “Nice try.”

  He didn’t seem deterred. Beau grinned and flipped over my hand, then began to press kisses at the soft flesh of my wrist, moving up my arm with each subsequent one. “You forget that I have the heat to worry about, Miss Bathsheba. I need my strength.”

  “Well, I hope your hand is ready.”

  He winked at me, slow and sultry. “I hope yours is, too.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I can resist you, you know.” Though it was going to be difficult as hell if it was just me and him in a romantic cabin away from the world.