Her Wild Protector (Paranormal Romance) (5 page)

Her thoughts turned back to Marshall. When she’d looked into his eyes she’d seen honesty and sincerity. He’d had the opportunity to take advantage of her and he hadn’t. She suspected that like herself, he was a private person and did not like sharing his story with others, yet he’d done so to put her mind at ease. Remembering the feel of his solid body next to hers, she shivered. As much as she was physically attracted to him, she couldn’t allow that to rule her reasoning. It would be better to fend for herself and try to figure out her own solution. All she had to do was stay hidden for a while.

The thought of Marshall hauling her out of her apartment made her heart race and she willed the cab to hurry.

Once she’d retrieved her car from her office parking lot and was safely back at her home, Tara started up the coffee pot and while it brewed, took a quick shower. Bathing was normally a long, steamy affair to be enjoyed before bed, but she hurried through this shower at record speed, beating the coffee maker. Every noise she heard made her jump, and she shampooed with her eyes open.

Grabbing her suitcase from the top shelf of her closet, she threw it on the bed and dusted it off. It had been a long time since she’d gone anywhere. She flung clothes from her drawer and started to get dressed, mentally reviewing her hotel options. A look at her checkbook confirmed it would have to be the least expensive one she could find. She added a can of bathroom disinfectant to her pile.

She was nearly dressed when a scratching noise at her front door caused her to start. She stopped what she was doing and held still. Silence. Then the sound started again. Tiptoeing across the room, she looked out the peephole. No one was there. Visitors seldom stopped by and certainly not this early in the morning. She backed away and waited.

If not for the events of the previous two days, Tara would have just opened the door. Now she stood in the living room, heart pounding, wondering what to do. The scratching began once more, louder this time. And was that the sound of breathing she heard?

It couldn’t be Marshall. This subtle approach did not seem to be his style. Was it Denzel? She bit her lip. She had to get out of here. She didn’t have time for delays. She gasped and jumped at the sound of a sudden thump on the door. Her gaze went to her phone, plugged in to charge, all the way across the room. She took a step toward it when the thump came again, this time stronger, as though a large object slammed into the wood. The door, not the sturdiest, shuddered and groaned ominously and she heard the screech of screws pulling loose.

Tara ran the few steps to her bedroom and looked out the window. She could probably jump to the ground with minimal damage but suspected that whatever was on her front step would be able to catch her before she ran too far. Regretting her decision not to own a gun, she bolted to her kitchen and grabbed the largest knife she owned.

With a final bang, the door burst open.

A huge panther stood there, lip turned up in a snarl, a growl coming from low in his throat. Tara clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream, the knife falling to the floor. It would be useless against this beast. The animal approached her, slowly. Tara backed away, heading toward her bedroom. The second door might hold him off a little longer and she would have to take her chances on the ground.

“Good kitty,” she whispered, her throat constricted with terror.

He wasn’t really a good kitty, though. He continued to advance, the growls becoming louder. Tara knew not to look an attacking animal in the eyes, but she couldn’t help herself and when she did she saw rage and deadly intent. This creature meant to kill her. She was almost at her bedroom door when the animal paused. He crouched and licked his lips, his muscles tensed to leap.

A sound like a whip zinged through the air, then the cat gave a yelp and crumpled to the floor. Marshall stood in the doorway, holding the odd weapon she’d previously seen.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to speak. A smell like ozone filled her nostrils and as she watched, the animal on the floor changed into a man. It wasn’t Denzel and she didn’t recognize the figure.

“Come on, we have to get him out of here before anyone sees us.” Marshall picked up the body and slung him over his shoulders. “Grab my keys out of my right pocket.”

Tara stood stock-still, her feet like blocks of ice. Marshall seemed far away and fuzzy and the room began to turn gray.

“Tara, breathe, now. Two big breaths, come on, don’t faint on me.”

She gulped in air, swallowed twice and the room came back into focus.

“Reach in my pocket and get my car keys. I need to put him in the trunk. We don’t want anyone to see this.” Marshall spoke slowly but Tara heard the urgency in his voice.

Her feet finally cooperated and she walked to him.

“That’s it, reach in this pocket,” he jutted his pelvis toward her, “grab the keys, and go to my Jeep.”

She slipped her hand into the tight pocket, the warmth of his body welcome relief to her cold hand. She was aware of the proximity of her fingers to his man parts. Heat traveled from her hand to the rest of her body and she felt her cheeks flush. She fished out the keys and walked out the ruined door to his vehicle. Birds chirped noisily, welcoming the day, but otherwise the parking lot was silent. She popped the trunk and Marshall deposited the body inside. More blood flowed slowly back to her brain.

“Who is that? Is he dead?”

“His name is Tony. He works with Denzel. Don’t worry—he’s just stunned. I don’t kill unnecessarily.”

“You killed that woman at the port.” Tara bit her lip. That was probably not the best topic of conversation right now, but when frightened she tended to blurt out thoughts without running them through the common sense filter in her brain.

He turned to her. “Annette had to die. She sold secrets to our enemies. She was going to pass along information that would cost the lives of hundreds of our overseas soldiers. Killing her
was
necessary. The trick is to know the difference.”

While he talked, he took a set of cable ties from his back pocket and bound the man, then reached farther into the trunk and pulled out a toolbox.

“I’m going to fix your door while you pack. Make sure to bring your passport.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to an island. Bring your swimsuit, too.”

Tara planted her feet, put her hands on her hips and stood directly in his path. Adrenaline still coursed through her body, but now the fear was turning to anger.

“I don’t think so. There’s no way I’m running off to some island somewhere with a man I don’t even know.”

Marshall set the toolbox back down and turned to face her, just inches away. He must have taken a shower before coming to get her. He smelled like he had when she’d first met him, that woodsy scent stirring a spark of arousal. His eyes were covered with those damn sunglasses again but she saw his nostrils flare.

“I know you’re a smart woman,” he said slowly, though impatience simmered in his tone. “Look at this logically. Someone who means you harm is after you. What safer options do you have, exactly?”

“I could call the police.”

“If you wanted to go that route you would have done it by now. You know these circumstances are out of their realm.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t have any other choice. Tara, what can I say to make you see the magnitude of this situation? I’m good at keeping people safe, and if you would just let me do my job we’ll both be fine.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you what you can say. You can tell me why you were selling drugs and driving getaway cars before the DOSA got ahold of you. I’ve seen your house. You don’t strike me as the type of man who needs a whole lot of stuff in his life. Even your vehicle…” She swept a hand at his Jeep.

Marshall frowned. “What’s wrong with my truck?”

She rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with it. A five-year-old Jeep is just not something a drug dealer drives.”

“I’m not a drug dealer.” He turned and picked up the toolbox again. “You’re fairly observant. That’s a good trait to have when someone is after you.”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

A small smile touched his lips. “It’s a long story and we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“So give me the quick version.” She stepped out of his way and they headed to her apartment.

“Fine. Hold the door while I attach it, and then get yourself packed.”

Marshall was handy with tools, she observed, as he began making quick work of reattaching the door to the frame. Her neighbors were still going to freak out, she noticed immediately as she held up the door. There wasn’t much he could do about the deep scratches in the wood.

“I needed the money to pay the rent,” he explained as he worked on the door. “My mom wasn’t capable of working at that point in my life and we were already living in a pretty bad neighborhood. I didn’t want to move to an even worse neighborhood in the ghetto. Hand me that screw.”

“What was wrong with your mom?” she asked.

“It had been a rough couple of years. My dad had quit paying child support. Mom did the best she could, working two jobs, but it was wearing on her. Then, when my younger sister was killed in a car accident, Mom kind of lost it, started drinking a lot. She lost both of her jobs. I was on my own a good deal of the time and had to figure out how to pay the bills. Like I said before, I had the choice of being a victim or a winner. The winner’s circle looked pretty good to me at that time. Hold this.”

She propped up the door. “Doesn’t sound like you really came out ahead.”

“Yeah, well, I was out of options. I needed money, and that was the only road available.”

For several moments the sound of the power drill curtailed conversation.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Then nothing. I told you, I landed in prison, made a deal and here I am. Is your curiosity satisfied?”

It was, partially. Tara had a soft spot for men who took care of their mothers. She’d heard that was how you could tell the true character of a man: by the way a man treated his parents, and also how he treated servers in restaurants. Karl’s mom and dad were both deceased so she never had that opportunity to measure him. Too bad. She had the feeling she might have been able to see his true character early and save herself a lot of grief.

“What happened to your mom?” Tara continued.

“She managed to keep it together. She lives in a little place on her own now, does okay.”

“Does she know about this? About what you do for a living? Doesn’t she worry?”

His jaw twitched. “I don’t see her. She thinks I live overseas. DOSA likes to keep their operatives away from their families.”

“Because?”

“That’s enough questions. Get moving.”

“I haven’t said I’m going to go yet.”

Tara was certain she’d pushed him too far. He took off his glasses and stared straight at her. She wanted to step back but resisted. She’d just faced down a panther; she could stand the glare of those piercing green eyes.

“Because it distracts the operative and puts the families in danger. Like you are right now.” He let out a sigh.

“Look, Tara, when Tony fails to check in, someone else will come to finish the job. I told you my story, so now I’m not a stranger. Okay? So go. Pack.
Please.
”

Tara went to her room without a response and continued filling her suitcase. She was still not comfortable with the plan but the image of another large animal, crouched in front of her and ready to leap, made sweat bead up under her arms. As much as she hated to admit it, Marshall was right. If Tony had been able to find her, more of the creatures could, too, no matter where she went. And if what Marshall said was true, these people didn’t care who they hurt. What if they went after her family and friends next?

That was not an option. Digging deep in a drawer, she pulled out her bathing suit. Like her suitcase, it had been neglected these past years. Though she knew this was not meant to be a pleasurable vacation, the sight of the garment always perked up her mood.

“We need to leave. Now.”

Marshall’s voice from the other room immediately sent her spirits plunging, like a roller coaster on its last big descent. She bit back a retort and hurried to finish.

Twenty minutes later they were on the road. Neither one spoke, and Tara’s wildly pounding heart finally slowed to a normal pace. This day was not starting out well. She was going on a journey with a mysterious stranger to an unknown destination for an indeterminate amount of time. Not good.

“I can’t be gone long. I have to go to work on Monday,” she said. Though she wasn’t overly fond of her job, she was a loyal employee and not one to just disappear without notice. Besides, she couldn’t afford to be without the income.

“I’ve taken care of that. You’re working with me on a special assignment. It’s been cleared with your supervisor. Don’t worry, you’ll still be getting paid.”

“But I have reports due and projects I’m working on…”

“They’ll get a temp to handle those.”

“No one knows what I’m doing except me. I can’t just bail on them”

Marshall shot a glance in her direction, his brows drawn down in irritation.

“What’s more important, the reports or your life?”

Tara sat back in her seat. “How in the world did you arrange all that?”

“I told you—I have resources.”

Indeed he did. “I want more information.”

“Let me concentrate on getting us to the airport right now. We can talk later.”

“Airport? We’re not headed toward Orlando.”

“We’re leaving from the Merritt Island Airport.”

Tara had been to the small airfield only once before when she’d taken a wrong turn. “There’s nothing there except dinky little planes.”

Marshall turned to look at her again, and even through his shaded lenses she could sense his glare.

“Will you please be quiet for a few minutes?”

Tara exhaled loudly but sat back in her seat. Right now, she had no choice but to go along with whatever this aggravating man had planned. He had saved her life, for which she was grateful, but she did not intend to let him run it.