He tasted like life itself. Heat and salt, fire and blood. She was starving for him. His hand cupped her tangled hair, and she clung to him, trying to get closer. Frantic need yawned, a fiery chasm that could swallow them. She caressed the hard contours of his body until she found the unyielding bulge of his cock, trapped in his jeans.
He growled low in his throat, and pushed her suddenly away. On her knees, half naked, nipples tight in the chilly dawn. They panted, wildly aroused by the strange energy flaring between them.
“We need to cool it.” His voice was uneven.
“Please,” she whispered.
“No. Mark is on his way, and he wants to eat your brain. I shouldn’t have pulled off the road.”
She nodded, resigned, and put the seatbelt on.
Caro watched the landscape slide by, amazed at how calm she felt. All the horrible things she’d just seen were burned into her visual memory but for some reason they stayed under control, not taking over her visual field in hallucinations as they so often did when she was violently stressed.
Noah Gallagher, in all his glory, charging in to rescue her . . . that was an image more compelling than terror, blood and death.
The thought steadied her. She hung on to it.
*
Caro awoke from a restless half-sleep as the car slowed down and stopped.
They were parked outside a modern mansion on a wooded hillside. Simple but luxurious, with walls of glass on all sides, big decks and patios, and a long, winding driveway. One other car was parked there. A black van. “Where are we?” she asked.
“One of our safe houses,” Noah said.
It resembled his own place. Which made sense, she supposed.
Sisko and Zade sauntered out the front door just as she got out of the car. Looking worried, they both gave her and Noah a thorough onceover.
OK. She’d had better days, been better dressed. She pulled the shabby coat tighter, and held her head up as high as she could. Screw them both.
“Jesus, man. You look like shit,” Zade said to Noah. “Especially your eyes. What happened out there?”
“Long story,” Noah said wearily. “Not now.”
He took her hand and led her inside. “Make yourself at home,” he said.
The inside of this house was beautiful. Understated, oversized furniture that looked custom-made was highlighted by austere lamps that cast a rich glow over equally rich fabrics in soothing earth tones. Decorator coordinated, to be sure. Exactly what she would expect to see in a Noah Gallagher crash pad.
She heard Sisko and Zade come in as she wandered around the place, enjoying the silky smooth texture of the wide plank flooring under her bare dirty feet, the tastefully arranged furniture, the big, airy kitchen with top of the line appliances. Huge plate glass windows offered beautiful views of the surrounding greenery on all sides.
“I’m taking her up to the master bedroom to settle in,” Noah said to his men, who stood there looking awkward. “Zade, get that shit-eating grin off your face and call Hannah. Tell her Caro needs stuff. Clothes, whatever else she doesn’t have right now. And tell her to arrange for some food. Something really good, and a whole lot of it. We’re going to lie low for a while.”
“Excuse me?” Caro said. “You’re ordering what?”
“Clothes,” Noah repeated, as if the answer was obvious, gesturing toward her bloodstained jeans and coat.
“Hannah’s going to enjoy that,” Zade observed. “Unlimited shopping, with your credit card? A dream come true. Watch out.”
“For once in her life, her shopping mania will be good for something.” He looked at Sisko and Zade. “Sorry you guys didn’t get to see any action today, but things should get interesting soon. When Mark gets to town.”
“Ah, yeah. About that,” Zade said pointedly. “Can we talk?”
“Later,” Noah said. “Soon. Let me get her settled. Then we’ll talk.” He glanced at Sisko. “Keep monitoring the surveillance video feeds while I’m upstairs.”
“Love to.” Sisko rolled his eyes. “Thanks, boss.”
“About time you took a turn,” Zade observed. “I’m always on call.”
Caro left them to their bickering and headed up the stairs. Noah ran up behind her and swept her into his arms again, carrying her into the big master bedroom.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He shrugged off his jacket, and disappeared into the bathroom. Soon she heard the roar of water jets filling a capacious tub. Scented steam floated out the door. Lavender, honeysuckle, a hint of manly mint? Nice, whatever it was.
She smiled at him when he emerged from the bathroom. “Mmmm. Smells good. OK, you can take care of me.”
He unbuttoned her coat, tossing it away and smoothing his hands slowly down over her bare shoulders as he looked her body over, before pulling her gently into the bathroom. He pulled swabs, gauze and ointment out of the medicine cabinet.
“Let’s see those cuts,” he said. “Lift your chin.”
He examined the nicks at the base of her throat, washing and disinfecting them, treating every little wound with his usual focused intensity. He smoothed adhesive bandages over them, and pressed a slow, searching kiss against the nape of her neck.
Her nipples tightened. But she had to return the favor. “Now you.”
He sighed. “If you must.”