Unleashed Read online

  He burned to toss her over his shoulder and head for the bedroom, where he'd take her hard and fast, claiming her body and her soul for his own. And from the way she was digging her nails into his back as he kissed her, he doubted she would object. He muscled the two of them back upright, supporting her supple weight with his arms, loving the press of her sweet breasts against his skin.

  "Which way to your bedroom?"

  Kerry pointed, and as he carried her down the hall, she did her best to distract him with her roaming hands and a series of small kisses along his cheek. Somehow she'd figured out that the back of the neck was especially erotic for their kind, and kept fluttering her fingers up to his hairline and then back down almost to his shoulder blades. The ripples of pleasure threatened to overwhelm him, but damned if their first time was going to be a desperate coupling up against a wall.

  How long was this damn hall?

  Finally they reached her bedroom. He was too focused on Kerry to notice many details, but the impression he got of the room was bright colors, clean lines, and a great big bed that dominated the room. Perfect.

  He set her feet on the floor and pulled the zipper of her dress down her back. The dress slid to the ground in a pool of crimson, leaving her wearing nothing but a heated smile and lacy panties, and leaving him speechless. He towered over her, yet she radiated feminine strength.

  "You have too many clothes on," she pointed out. He swiftly stripped, leaving on only his boxers as she watched appreciatively. When he straightened back up, her gaze slowly traveled from the top of his head down to his feet and then back up to his face. Her cheeks flushed hot, and the minx licked her lips as if he'd been tonight's blue plate special.

  That was fine with him.

  He swooped her up in his arms and laid her out on top of the quilt, then knelt beside her, the possibilities overwhelming.

  She reached up to cup his cheek with a gentle hand. "Don't think so hard, Ranulf. I'm not going anywhere."

  But he would. She needed to know that before this went any further. No matter how willing she was to welcome him into her bed and into her body, they would only have tonight and maybe a lew more days.

  "I'm not a happily-ever-after kind of guy, Kerry. And I'm more often cast as the villain, not the hero."

  "Kiss me, Ranulf."

  "But—"

  She placed her fingers across his lips. "I heard you the first time. Maybe what you're saying is true, but I don't care how others see you. I'm my own woman, and right now, I'm yours for the taking."

  Damned if he was going to listen to his conscience a second longer. He wanted Kerry more than he'd wanted anything for a hundred lifetimes. He laid beside her and cupped her breast as he kissed her. The tingle of energy flowing between them slowly built in intensity until his skin burned with the need to melt into hers.

  He'd been cold for so long that her warmth drew him like fire after a long winter's freeze. He lost all restraint and settled in the cradle of her body, pressing his erection right against her damp core. Instinct outweighed reason and he began surging against her despite her underwear, kissing her passionately. Her flavor made him feel drunk on life, as her lithe body made him feel as if all of his life had led to this one moment. There was a distant roaring in his head that wouldn't quit.

  He rolled to one side far enough to slide his hand under the elastic of her panties. Energy thrummed through his fingertips, the slight buzz causing Kerry to moan softly. Her passage was tight as he gently caressed her, craving her the way his body needed air to breathe. Kerry clamped her legs demandingly around his hand, holding it captive as he stroked her slick folds.

  He tugged her panties down over the curve of her hips, and his boxers and her panties soon joined the rest of their clothes scattered across the floor.

  He snagged his jeans back to remove a condom, hoping he'd brought enough to last the night. When he'd sheathed himself, he returned to Kerry's arms.

  She pushed him over on his back to straddle him, centering her body directly over his. Then with a wicked smile, she gave as good as she got, her hands kneading his chest muscles as she kissed him. Although he was used to being in charge, he liked letting Kerry take control. Her obvious pleasure in him was like stepping out of the darkness and into the warmth of a summer day.

  In a quick move, he rolled to the side, taking Kerry with him and surprising a laugh out of her.

  "I want you." He rocked against her, showing her exactly what he meant.

  "I want you, too," she whispered, toying with the back of his neck and driving them both crazy.

  He was about to enter her when he heard an odd sound. His blood ran cold. Raising up, he asked, "Do you hear that?"

  "What?" she whispered, lifting her head to hear better.

  "That ringing sound… son of a bitch! That's your smoke alarm! Wait here while I check out the situation."

  He lurched up off the bed and grabbed his clothes. Hopping on one foot and then the other, he pulled on his jeans as he headed for the living room. Although the air in Kerry's apartment was still fresh, he could see smoke billowing up outside her front window. He put his hand on the front door and felt the heat.

  On his way back to the bedroom, he yanked out his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1 to report the fire. When he got back to the bedroom, Kerry was pulling her dress back over her head. He tried to ignore the fact that she didn't bother with her bra.

  "There's a fire out front and I can't tell how bad it is. The fire department is on the way, but we need to get out. Grab your shoes while I check the back door. We can't go out the front."

  He wanted to kick himself six ways from Sunday for letting himself get distracted. He'd known full well that it had been only a matter of time before Bradan struck out at Kerry.

  As if she'd heard his thoughts, Kerry asked, "It's him, isn't it? The arsonist."

  "Probably. It would be hard to believe a fire at your apartment so soon after the other night was just a coincidence."

  He could hear the sirens screaming outside. "The fire trucks are almost here. We need to get out and get someplace safe." Judith's home was the only place he could think of.

  Telling Kerry to wait for him, he went from window to window, looking for some sign of Bradan. He wasn't about to step outside into a trap. Luckily, the firemen started pounding on the back door, and Kerry came running down the hallway. Ranulf yanked open the door and all but shoved Kerry outside.

  When they reached the safety of the sidewalk, she asked the closest fireman, "How bad is it?"

  "Someone set the bushes out front on fire. We should have it out in a few minutes. There might be some cosmetic damage to the building, but nothing serious."

  The firefighter looked grim. "It was probably some teenagers, ma'am. We'll canvass the area to see if any of your neighbors saw anything. Do you know who lives in the apartment below yours?"

  "It's vacant right now, because the owners only live here part of the time. They're at their other home in Arizona, but I expect them back in the next couple of weeks. If you need to talk to them sooner, I've got their address and phone number inside."

  "Good. That'll help." He turned weary eyes on her. "The smoky smell will linger for a while. Will you be all right here tonight, or do you want a ride to a friend's house?"

  "It's kind of you to offer, but I'll be fine. My friend can give me a ride."

  The fireman looked over to where Ranulf watched the fire crew in front of the building. He looked so alone as the firemen swirled and eddied around him. It was hard to see any sign of her gentle would-be lover in his fierce expression. For the first time, she could see Ranulf as the barbarian killer that Sandor had claimed him to be. The shiver flitting up and down her spine had little to do with the late evening chill.

  But before she talked to him about leaving, she needed to tell the fire department that she knew who had most likely set the fire. As if he knew what she was about to do, Ranulf abruptly turned in her direction and shook his head. H
e held a single finger over his lips, and the words reluctantly died on her tongue.

  Why? Wouldn't it make sense to let the authorities know the arsonist's name? Surely they stood a better chance of tracking him down than Ranulf and Sandor did. When she had Ranulf alone, she'd demand to know why the gag order. And if his answer didn't make sense, she'd call the fire department and tell them everything she knew.

  Chapter Nine

  Well, on second thought, not quite everything— especially the whole "not being human" thing. That brought her up short. When had she accepted what Sandor and Ranulf had told her as the truth?

  Probably about the time she'd welcomed Ranulf into her bed. Bradan's timing was another black mark against him. Another few seconds, and it would have taken a direct nuclear hit to distract them from finishing the horizontal dance they'd started. Ranulf had stopped so abruptly that she was surprised he hadn't sprained something important.

  And now, when she needed his warmth and support, he stood too far away. The distance separating them was an invisible wall that he'd erected the minute he'd pushed her out the back door into the waiting fireman's hands. She huddled in the darkness and waited to see how long it would take for Ranulf to let her close again.

  Every so often, he'd turn his eyes in her direction. Each time, she could feel the strength of his power simmering at the boiling point with the desire to kill his enemy. Her lover had disappeared, and a stone-cold warrior had taken his place. Temper pushed her fear aside. Ranulf had a mission to accomplish—fine. But he was the first man she'd allowed so close in a very long time, and the distance he'd put between them hurt.

  Finally, he stalked toward her, saying, "The fire is out. We can go back inside."

  "I can. You're going home." She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to contradict her. It didn't take long. .

  Ranulf silently glared at the firefighter who had stayed with her, causing the poor man to stumble back, then hurriedly rejoin his crew.

  "Nice trick, but I'm not impressed," she smirked. Although she was. Was mind control another one of his talents?

  "You should be. Now—we're going to go inside, you're going to pack enough clothing to last a few days, and then we're leaving—together." He stared down at her, his eyes like shards of indigo ice.

  "And if I don't want to leave with you?" It was a childish question, especially when he was big enough to make her do anything he wanted her to. But despite his temper and size, she knew he wouldn't hurt her.

  "We don't have time to play games, Kerry. My job is to keep you alive. Right now, that means taking you someplace safe until Bradan has been eliminated."

  His words hurt. "So I'm just a job? Was getting naked with me part of your benefit package?"

  He glared down at her from his superior height. "Woman, your tongue's so sharp, I'm surprised you don't cut yourself!"

  She glared right back up at him. "You weren't complaining about how I used my tongue a little while ago."

  "Um, excuse me, ma'am."

  Oh, Lord, neither of them had noticed the firefighter's return. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Yes?"

  Ranulf immediately positioned himself between the fireman and Kerry. She rolled her eyes and shoved Ranulf to the side. Although he let her, the fireman kept his eyes focused somewhere over her left shoulder, looking uncomfortable.

  "Is there something you needed?" she asked.

  "Just to tell you we're leaving now, and not to hesitate to call us or the police if you need to." He glanced past her to where Ranulf stood. "That offer of a ride still stands."

  She smiled. "That's all right; I'll be fine. Thank everyone for me. I appreciate everything you did."

  "Yes, ma'am, I will." He backed away, clearly relieved to escape without a major confrontation.

  She headed for her back door with Ranulf right on her heels. She would have preferred to have the solid weight of a locked door between them, but maybe it was better to take their fight back inside. No use in entertaining the neighborhood.

  "Start packing, Kerry. I don't know how long you'll have to be gone. We'll spend tonight at a friend's house and then play it by ear." His expression unexpectedly softened. "I want you to know that I am sorry you got sucked into all of this."

  "I'll bet you are."

  Then she retreated to the sanctuary of her bedroom, except she carried the memory of Ranulf in her bed with her. It was impossible to ignore the twisted jumble of her blankets and sheets or the empty foil package on the floor. Her traitorous body remembered the delicious weight of Ranulf's body covering hers, his heat burning her up.

  She resolutely turned her back on the bed and yanked her suitcase out of the closet. She stripped off her pretty dress and tossed it toward the hamper, then pulled on her oldest, most comfortable sweats.

  It didn't take long to fill the suitcase with jeans, T-shirts, and the necessary basics. Then she hesitated. It was too warm for her flannel nightgown, but it was her least sexy sleepwear. Her normal taste in clothing ran to casual and comfortable, but she had a secret weakness for sexy underwear and nighties.

  She wasn't planning on Ranulf seeing any of them—not after the way he'd acted since the smoke alarm had gone off. But if he did get a peek at her sleepwear, she wanted to remind him of exactly what he'd missed out on. She shoved the flannel back in the drawer and reached for the satin and lace.

  After grabbing a few toiletries from the bathroom, she looked around the room to see if she'd forgotten anything. Her laptop ensured that she'd be able to work wherever they ended up, but that still left a lot of hours in the day. She grabbed the stack of books she'd left on the bedside table and tossed them in.

  Ranulf appeared in the doorway. "Do you need help with anything?"

  She picked up her suitcase. "Nope, I've got it. I need to pack up the computer and then I'm ready to roll."

  She dropped her flashdrive in her purse, then took one last walk through her apartment, as if on some level she was saying good-bye. She shook off the creepy feeling and turned out the lights. There was no reason to think she wouldn't be back in a day or two.

  Ranulf took her computer and suitcase to the back door. "Stay put while I take a quick look around outside," he announced.

  She let the fact that he was back to issuing orders slide this time. "Do you think he's out there?"

  "I'll know more in a minute, but I suspect he's gone. He's had his fun for the night."

  "I'm glad someone did," she muttered under her breath, although she suspected Ranulf heard her anyway.

  Her pulse sped up as soon as he was out of sight, making her glad that he hadn't listened when she'd told him to leave earlier. Bradan might be gone, but that didn't mean he wouldn't come back, especially if he knew she was alone.

  Minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness. How long had Ranulf been gone? She checked the clock on the stove, but that was pointless since she didn't know when he'd left. Surely he should be back by now. What if he was injured? Or worse? She'd give him another thirty seconds and then go after him.

  But what good would she do him unarmed if Bradan had managed to get the drop on him? She needed a weapon. The kitchen offered several possibilities. She wasn't sure she'd have the nerve to use a butcher knife, but hitting someone over the head with a cast-iron skillet was a possibility.

  She dug out the small one that had belonged to her grandmother, and she tested its weight. Perfect. Drawing a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped outside. She listened for any sound that seemed out of place, but other than the muted rumble of distant traffic, all was quiet.

  Which way should she go? She hadn't thought of asking Ranulf where he'd parked or even what kind of car he drove. Keeping the skillet raised and ready, she sidled along the shadows by the building, scanning for some sign of Ranulf. At the front of the building, she edged up to the corner and leaned out to scope out the front yard.

  Nothing. She drew back, planning on trying the other direction when a h
and clamped down on her shoulder and another covered her mouth, stifling her scream.

  "Looking for me?" a familiar voice whispered near her ear.

  Her knees collapsed as relief washed over her. He was safe. When he abruptly released her, she had to grab onto him to keep her balance. It was like leaning against a brick wall, an angry brick wall.

  "I told you to wait inside," he growled.

  "I did, but you were gone so long, I got worried." Ingrate—see if she ever came to his rescue again! She headed back to retrieve her luggage.

  His big hand stopped her, catching her hand in a death grip. He tugged the skillet free of her grasp. "You were going to use this to rescue me?"

  Her first impulse was to say "Duh," but something in his voice made her hold back. He was staring at the skillet with an odd look on his face, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

  "What's the matter?"

  "I'm just trying to remember the last time anyone thought I might need rescuing." As if realizing how much he'd revealed about himself, he briskly handed back her makeshift weapon. "We need to go."

  She followed him up the steps, fighting the need to hug him, knowing he wouldn't accept it. "I'll get my things."

  Stubborn little thing that she was, Kerry had insisted on lugging her own suitcase, only grudgingly allowing him to carry her computer case. He still hadn't gotten over her decision to fight Bradan, armed only with an eight-inch cast-iron skillet.

  He wanted to yell at her for taking such a foolish risk, then kiss her senseless for caring enough to try. But right now, Bradan might still be lurking nearby. He wasn't among the trees where Ranulf had hidden before, but he'd definitely been there earlier. And of course, with the Packard parked there, Ranulf might as well have rented a billboard announcing his whereabouts.

  Speaking of the car, though, he wondered what Kerry's reaction would be to the old girl. When they reached the sidewalk out front, he said, "I'm parked across the street," then waited to see which one she'd choose as the most likely candidate. She ignored the SUV and the white sedan. Her gaze lingered a bit longer on a slow-slung sports car before moving on to the Packard. Her face immediately lit up with a huge smile.