Guardian Angel (16 page)

When he opened his eyes again several hours later, their positions were reversed.  Rebecca was on her side with her back to him; he had wrapped himself around her much smaller body, caging her against him.  His face was buried in her silky hair, her arm was wrapped around his possessively, as if he might try to escape.  It felt incredible, with the possible exception of the intense ache clawing in his balls from her bottom nestling up against his monster hard-on. 

His body ached for her.  Everything about her called to him on some elemental level – her appearance, her touch, the sound of her voice, the scent of her skin.  Without thinking, he inhaled deeply, drawing her into him, but soon realized his mistake.  The scent of her heated skin trapped beneath the sheets was more than he could bear. She sighed, shifting slightly.  Even that tiny movement shot through him like a bolt of lightning.

Kane carefully extracted himself, tucking the covers tightly around her.  He put on some coffee, then promptly headed out into the below-freezing dawn, hoping to chill some of the irrational desire he had for her.

* * *

R
ebecca knew the exact moment Kane awoke.  He pulled her closer, breathed deeply – and then tensed.  She pretended to be asleep as he pulled away, not wanting to embarrass him.  In the quiet of the early morning, she heard him moving around the kitchen, then the front door opened and closed.

She lay there for a little while, moving over to his side to feel some of his residual heat.  Then she buried her face in his pillow and breathed deeply.

He had murmured her name in his sleep, several times.  When she repositioned herself during the night, he had followed suit, unwittingly seeking her out in the large bed.  She knew he would never have done either of those things had he been awake and aware; nonetheless, her heart swelled at the thought that somewhere, deep inside, Kane wanted her.  It only seemed fair, after all.

There would be no more sleep for her this morning.  Not unless Kane returned and pulled her into his arms again.  And she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen.  As the last of his body heat faded from the bedding, Rebecca forced herself out of the warmth and comfort and padded to the shower.

* * *

K
ane remained outside, taking deep breaths until his head cleared somewhat and his overheated body cooled.  Regaining his self-control wasn’t easy.  He couldn’t seem to completely ignore the residual tactile memory of her body molded to his, or the sweet haven of silk and satin that he’d rubbed his face in.  It didn’t help that his mind kept replaying the sound of her soft, velvety voice asking him about sex and soul mates, either. 

He firmly and repeatedly reminded himself of all the reasons why he should not bury himself deep in her body and show her just how beautiful sex could be, though it was getting harder and harder to justify.

All he had to do was make it through the next twenty-four hours without doing something stupid.  Then he would take her back into Pine Ridge in the same pristine condition in which she had arrived, though hopefully a little more refreshed and relaxed.  He, no doubt, would be one step shy of being committed and have a terrible case of blue balls, but somehow he’d manage. 

He was, after all, the Iceman.

He went back into the cabin and heard the shower running.  That was good.  Visions of Rebecca in his bed, sleep-tousled and gorgeous, were not what he needed.  This way he could leave a cup of coffee on the nightstand for her when she emerged, and he could go back outside and chop some more firewood, because it smelled far too good in here.  He closed his eyes, just for a moment, greedily inhaling the residual scent of his perfect woman, the one he knew he could never have.

All thought ceased the moment the bathroom door opened unexpectedly and Rebecca stepped into the bedroom.  His eyes popped open in alarm, caught in the act of fantasizing.  God, she was beautiful.  Her skin, was moist and flushed from her shower.  Her long blonde hair, so much darker when wet, hung loosely past her shoulders.  He swallowed hard as crystal droplets fell from the strands onto her skin, following the natural contours of her breasts, disappearing beneath the towel.

Rebecca met his eyes, just as stunned to see him, apparently.  For the longest moment, they could only look at one another.

And then,
sweet and merciful Jesus
, the towel fell to a pool at her feet, and every feminine curve was revealed to him.  Her perfect breasts with those dark pink nipples; her small waist; the flare of her hips.  Shapely legs that he knew would feel like heaven wrapped around him as he buried himself in all that lush womanly heat that he craved with a need so fierce it scared the hell out of him.

It took him a moment to see the scars.  Pale white striations crossed her belly, her chest, her arms, like some kind of abstract art.  The one beneath her jaw, the result of the insurgent’s blade in the jungle, was barely visible, even though it was one of the newer ones.  Which meant the others had been deeper, crueler.  The truth slammed into his gut like a wrecking ball. 
Rebecca had known torture
. 

* * *

R
ebecca held her breath as Kane looked her up and down, knew the moment he’d seen them.  At first his eyes had found her breasts; then his gaze had travelled south to the moist curls at the juncture of her thighs, unmistakable heat building in his gaze until she thought she would burn from it. 

But now they sought out the faded souvenirs of more than a decade abroad in regions where there was no law, no police.  Just those who used whatever they had – strength, street skills, cunning – to take advantage of others.

This was it.  In an impulsive moment of insanity, she had bared herself to him.  He would accept her or he wouldn’t.  But at least now he knew.

“Turn around,” he said roughly, his voice little more than a growl.  She did, unable to deny the command in his voice, baring her back to him, knowing what he would see there, knowing that it was even worse.

She heard his sharp inhalation.  Felt the laser-like intensity of his eyes as they raked over the whip marks forever etched into her back and buttocks.  Knew when he found the most recent, angry circular scar at her shoulder.

Rebecca turned around, trying to cover herself with one arm while bending to pick up the towel she’d dropped.  The look on his face told her everything she needed to know.  Her face darkened in embarrassment as she began to wrap the towel around herself, but in two heartbeats he was beside her, yanking it away with a sudden, rough tug.  In one step Kane had closed the remaining distance between them.  One hand gripped her upper arm while the other pushed back her hair, immediately finding that which he sought – the matching circular scar on the front of her shoulder.  The exit wound.

Kane’s eyes met hers, questioning.

* * *

“K
ane, it’s okay,” she started to say.  He let his eyes rake over her chest, her belly, her arms, over her back again.  This time, he did not see her womanly charms.  This time, he saw the thin lines, some more faded than others, horrifying evidence of the violence of her life.  Blood rushed through his ears as a wild rage filled him.  The thought that anyone would ever dare hurt her made him crazy.  He wanted to hunt down each and every one of the bastards that had ever touched her and torture them until they begged for death. 

It wasn’t okay.  It would never be okay.  She had been beaten, stabbed, whipped, and shot.  And not for any of the usual reasons.  Not for greed or power or revenge.  All these things happened to her simply because she was trying to help someone else
live
. 

And the bullet wound – he knew exactly what it was because he’d had enough of them himself.  It wasn’t that old.  The coloring was similar to the scars on his hip... 

Kane’s mind flew back to that night in the jungle.  They’d been running away from the clearing.  Well, he’d been running, half-dragging her away.  Then she’d gone weightless right before the shot rang out and his hip exploded in fiery pain... 

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to see her as she was that night, recalling the mental images frame by frame.  Yes, she’d been covered in blood, but it was not unexpected; he had slit the throat of the bastard who meant to harm her.  And her side had been dark and sticky as well, but that had been
his
blood, hadn’t it?  She had stubbornly refused to leave him, forcing him to get to his feet and move, offering herself as his crutch.

His eyes flew open, luminous lasers of blue that cut right through her flesh and seared her heart.

“Jesus Fucking Christ,”
he said, realization dawning.  “You took a bullet for me, didn’t you?” 

He looked into her face and saw the awful truth. She must have seen the gunman, had thrown herself against his back.  But the bullet had gone right through her and into him.  He had faltered; she took his gun and eliminated the threat, despite the fact that she’d been shot, too. 
And she had said nothing
. 

In stark detail his mind replayed the soundtrack of the subsequent events – the swish of leaves as they cut through the brush, the sound of intermittent gunfire sometimes near, sometimes far.  Occasional shouts.  And the soft feminine grunts he thought had been caused solely by his substantial weight upon her shoulders.
Her fucking wounded shoulders
.

“You killed three men to save me,” she said quietly.  “You could have left me there and escaped, but you didn’t.”

Kane felt as though something was going to explode within him.  When he spoke, it was through his clenched teeth.  “
That’s what I do, Rebecca.
  Hell, I am trained to kill, and getting shot is just part of the job.  I wasn’t there for humanitarian reasons.  I wasn’t there to save
you
.”

Her eyes got bigger, her bottom lip trembled at the barely controlled rage in his voice.  He knew he was scaring her, but it was taking everything he had to contain the absolute, all-consuming rage rising up within him.

“But you did save me, Kane.  And if you hadn’t, I would have met the same fate as the Sisters.  How could I leave you when you had done that for me?  I never would have been able to live with myself.”

Nausea roiled deep in his gut.  He wanted to shake her.  To make her see that she was more important than he would ever be.  To demand that she never, ever risk her life for anyone ever again, especially him. 

She stood before him, naked and vulnerable, looking at him with those big, soft brown eyes that threatened to completely annihilate him.  When she looked at him like that, he forgot who he was, what he was.  They offered absolution, redemption, and salvation.  And he didn’t deserve – or want - any of it.

Kane’s lip curled up in a cruel snarl.  “I would have survived with or without you, Rebecca.  It is what I do.  Risking your life for mine was both foolish and unnecessary.”

He would swear later when he looked back on that moment some of the light faded from her eyes. 

But in that moment, Kane knew two things with certainty. First, that she believed she was in love with him. Maybe it was because he had saved her life, maybe not. Whether she really was in love with him or not was irrelevant, because of the second thing he knew with equal surety:  that he could not have her, no matter how much he wanted her.  Not now, not ever. 

Because once he took her, he would never let her go. 

She would no longer have the luxury of choice.  He would strip that from her, along with everything else that might threaten her safety again.  He would possess her fully; she would belong to him and him alone.  The sacrifice she’d made in the jungle would be nothing compared to the one she’d have to make if he accepted her into his arms.  He was a hair’s breadth from saying ‘fuck it all’ and taking her anyway, but amazingly, there was still some sliver of decency left in him that refused to take advantage of her. 

He summoned The Iceman to the surface, allowing it to rise within him, closing him off, giving him the ability to do what must be done.  The words came out without emotion, without feeling.  His heart was shutting down against the incredible pain ripping through it.  Thankfully, his mind had a little bit left, though it, too, seemed to be numbing with each passing tick of the clock. 

“It was a mistake to bring you here.  It’s time for you to go, Rebecca.  Pack your things.”

Kane released her roughly, ignoring her startled gasp.  Without another word he turned and walked away, leaving her alone, cold and exposed.  It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

T
he trip down the mountain was quiet.  Rebecca sat against the passenger door, staring at the hands she had folded neatly in her lap.  He stole occasional sideways glances at her.  He hadn’t wanted to hurt her.  The whole point of taking her back – of getting her away from him – was to protect her, because he was way beyond the point of being able to watch her give herself so freely – so selflessly – to others.  He couldn’t think about any of the things that had been done to her, because the resulting rage was almost more than he could handle.

Outside, he was the Iceman.  Inside, it felt like every last cell in his body was on fire, the pain constant and excruciating.

He couldn’t kid himself anymore, either; he was incapable of being her friend.  He’d thought he could be.  He’d told himself that her companionship was enough.  It wasn’t.  Now he knew he wanted nothing less than full possession, and that wouldn’t be fair to a woman as giving, as caring as Rebecca.  She would come to resent him, just as she resented her brother and her family for trying to control her life and her choices.

If he had one wish, he would wish desperately to be the kind of man who could love her and still give her the freedom to do whatever made her happy.  But he wasn’t that man.  And he knew that no matter how much he loved her, he never could be.  It simply wasn’t in him.

Her face was a mask, expressionless.  He knew better than to expect tears or pouting from her; she was much too strong for that.  It was one of the things that drew him to her – her inner strength, her resolve.  And it was a good thing, too, because if he ever saw a single tear fall from her eye because of something he’d done, he would never forgive himself.  As long as she stayed strong, didn’t cry or pout, he could tell himself that he was doing the right thing, and that deep down inside she knew and accepted that.  That as much as this was killing him, it was the best thing for her.  She had willingly sacrificed herself for him once.  He wouldn’t allow her to do it a second time.