Storm Front (3 page)

Her breath hitched and the tears resumed soaking his clothing. He brushed kisses over her ear and down her elegantly long neck. He wanted to kill whoever had convinced Tessa she wasn’t worthy, who’d put fear and shame in her eyes.

“Tessa, I want you in my life. Trust me to help you, protect you.”

*

Tessa shuddered and leaned into the big, warm, strong body of a man far too good for her. She was tempted to tell him everything, let him take the burden, but she was afraid of what she’d see on his face if she told him all.

Callie couldn’t tell him everything, because her friend didn’t know everything about Tessa’s past. Evan and Chad had promised never to tell Callie or her twin brothers the whole truth as they knew it, and even they didn’t know it all. The two men and the police had helped her obtain a new name, US citizenship, a new life. A life she loved, which was now being threatened.

The real story was far worse than an abusive home life.

From the age of thirteen through eighteen, Tessa’s life had been hell on earth. When she’d managed to escape the Branhams, the couple who’d “adopted” her from a Shanghai orphanage, fate or pure dumb luck had Evan and Chad finding her before her captors could.

After two weeks in a hospital and a lot of reassurances from Evan, Chad, and a psychologist that she was safe, Tessa told her story to the police and took them to where she and other girls like her had been kept prisoner, slaves in an exclusive club for sexual predators.

But it had been too late.

Her former captors were dead. All the business records and the other girls, and some young boys, were gone.

Tessa had experienced tremendous guilt for not helping the police sooner. But eventually, with her new life in the Meyers’ household, she’d found happiness, joy, ways to make a difference in the world, and a modicum of forgetfulness about that time in her life.

But Earl was wrong. Evan, Chad, the police, and her therapist were all wrong, too.

The past wasn’t past—it had merely been sleeping, lying in wait until it could return and torment her, destroy her happiness and hard-won peace of mind.

Almost two weeks ago, she’d begun receiving strange and menacing text messages and e-mails. At first, she thought her cyberstalker was merely another crazed T. A. Parks fan; her publisher dealt with a lot of those as had she. The sender had raged about her most recent release.

But quickly the text messages and e-mails veered away from the book and became more personal, more specific, more explicit … more threatening.

And, then, just before she’d left for Idaho, she’d begun to get e-mails with image and video attachments. Images and videos she’d never known about from a time she had hoped never to think of again.

Images of her … naked … bound … men … raping her … hurting her—

Stop it, Tessa.

She fought the images bombarding her mind and forced them back into a dark corner of her brain. She couldn’t lose control in front of Earl. He’d want to know what was wrong, and in a weak moment, she might tell him. She had to keep that part of her life hidden away from decent people.

Breathe
.

Tessa took several deep breaths.

It was hard to regain control. Her heart pounded and adrenaline flooded her bloodstream. The images violently dragged her past to the forefront of her mind and reminded her of what she’d been—a sex toy, a receptacle, a less-than-human object.

Get control, Tessa. Breathe.

Sick, disgusted, and afraid some of the men who’d used her had resurrected the perverted private club, she’d reported her cyberstalker to the Chicago Police Department, and they called in the FBI. If she could prevent it, no other innocent girls would have to go through what she had. If the e-mails and messages she’d received could help the police stop evil from resurrecting in Chicago, then maybe she could let her past go once and for all.

If Earl saw those pictures, he’d see how filthy and tainted she was. She couldn’t even stand to look at herself in the mirror since she’d received the perverted images. She found herself experiencing the same self-hatred she’d felt immediately after her rescue, and if truth be told, for several years afterward. Only intensive therapy and Callie’s family, Evan, and Chad had helped her deal.

“Tessa? Come back to me.” Earl rubbed her back. “Why are you so scared? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Earl’s voice was so deep, so soothing. She wanted to fall into it and never surface. If she’d been another person, had had even half a normal life, she’d jump at the chance for a life with him. She’d dreamed of a man like Earl for years, someone to hold her when she was scared, make her laugh, love her, give her babies.

Tessa’s womb ached for a child. She wanted to be a wife, a mother, a lover, but it would never happen. No good man could overlook her past.

“Tessa?” Earl whispered against her ear.

“What?” She shuddered as his warm breath ignited a frisson of awareness in her pussy. He was the only man she’d ever met who made her pussy ache and her clit throb, and she couldn’t let herself care for him, couldn’t let him care for her.

“Whatever’s bothering you, we’ll handle it … look at me.” When she shook her head, he tipped her chin up until she met his gorgeous, dark-brown eyes. “Ah, sweetheart, you’re tired. I suspect the altitude is adding to your exhaustion and aches and pains. I’ll help with your pancakes. After breakfast, you can take a nap. How does that sound?”

“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” She wanted confirmation she’d read him correctly—he was an alpha-dominant, over-protective, stubborn-as-a-mule male just like Risto Smith, the Maddox men, and all the Walsh men.

“Nope.” He brushed kisses over her cheeks, taking away the few tears that still leaked from her eyes. “You like basketball?”

She tilted her head and blinked at the change in subject. Suspicious, she cautiously answered, “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“This Friday. I’ll take you to the Bulls game.” He grinned. “You can’t turn down a Bulls game, now can you?”

Yeah, she could and would—once she got back to Chicago. She could never see Earl again, because once he got his foot in the door, she’d never get rid of him. And then he’d find out what she’d been, what she’d done to survive in a hell hole for five years. She couldn’t allow that to happen, allow his look of attraction and liking change to disgust. It would kill her.

He frowned at her silence. But before he could call her on it, a sound at the kitchen doorway had her turning within the circle of Earl’s arms. Jim and John Meyers stood there with big grins on their faces as they observed her and Earl.

Jim, the older twin by two minutes, laughed. “Doesn’t look like you’re making our
pannekuchen
, Tessie.” He turned his bright gaze toward Earl. “Hey, man, you’re interfering with greatness. You haven’t lived until you’ve had Tessie’s German pancakes.”

Earl chuckled and released her, but not before he smoothed a hand over her rear end. A full-body shudder swept over her and then became concentrated as a pulsing ache just south of her belly button. The shock of the intensity of her reaction to what was only a slight touch had her heart racing with fear, or excitement, or maybe a bit of both.

Earl Blackhawk was a dangerous man, a man who played to win.

“Never let it be said I stood in the way of greatness in the culinary arts.” He leaned over and whispered against her ear, “Make the boys their pancakes, baby. This conversation isn’t over and will resume once you’ve had a nap and are at your fighting weight. Something’s bothering you. You tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

She stepped away and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t need you fixing anything for me. I’m fine.”

“Little liar.” He patted her bottom, and she had to bite her lip not to moan. “Go cook.”

She glared at him.

He grinned and winked. The insufferable man knew exactly how much he affected her. God, if only she were normal. No, she couldn’t think that way. If he knew all, well, he sure wouldn’t hold her, kiss her, and lovingly pet her rear end.

Her resolve shored up once more, Tessa turned back to her pancake batter and began to fold the egg whites into the main mixture. She eyed the twins who stood on the opposite side of the island and the griddle cook top. They wore identical concerned looks.

She forced a smile on her lips and asked, “How many cakes, my little men?”

John grimaced. “Ahh, Tessie, we aren’t little anymore.”

“Baby boy, to me, you’ll always be my little men. Now, cakes—how many?”

John looked at Jim, and Jim looked at John, and then the boys both looked at Earl who she sensed was right behind her, ready to step in if anything upset her further.

Yes, definitely a good man. Too bad she wasn’t the right woman for him, no matter what Callie, or he, thought.

She turned and confronted the man who was far too close to her for her peace of mind. “Um, eggs? Bacon? Hash browns? Chop chop.” She shooed him away.

Earl’s serious expression disappeared as if it had never existed and his mouth broke into a heart-stopping smile. “Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her smartly and turned back to assembling the main parts of breakfast.

It wouldn’t be as easy to shoo Earl out of her life. The man had a mission—her. Her job was to convince him she was a waste of his time. In her mission. She. Would. Not. Fail.

9:15 a.m.

Breakfast was over, and Tessa had just started the stock for the chicken risotto she’d planned for supper. Two soups for lunch were simmering on the stove and only would need a stirring now and then; the stock, some skimming.

Two large hands came around her waist. She inhaled sharply and barely managed to hold back a shriek. Her heart pounded. For a nanosecond she was thrown back into a distant past. Cruel hands. Pain.

Come back, Tessa.

She shook off the memories and took one calming breath, then another. These hands were gentle hands. There was no pain. Then she knew whose hands held her—

Earl!

Tessa hadn’t heard him approach. Why she hadn’t was a puzzle. Ever since the lessons she’d learned during her teen years, she’d always—always—been hyperaware of her surroundings, especially where men were concerned. Why in the hell hadn’t she sensed Earl’s approach?

There’s a reason for that, Tessa. This is the man for you. Your body and mind recognize he’s not a danger.

Oh, shut up. While the little voice in her head had been a savior many times, sometimes it was just a pain-in-her-butt, smart ass, know-it-all.

When I’m right, I’m right.

Shut up.

Tessa wiggled, but Earl’s hands didn’t budge. She heaved a sigh. “Earl, let me go.”

“How did you know it was me?” The words whispered over her ear.

Tessa made another attempt to break away, but something in her liked his touch and her attempt was laughingly feeble.

Earl tightened his grip on her waist. “Don’t move.” He nuzzled her ponytail aside and pressed a light tease of a kiss on her nape exposed by the thermal T-shirt.

Goose bumps broke out over her entire body. She clenched her jaw to keep from moaning. His warm, firm lips felt so good against the very sensitive skin of her neck.

Um, how
had
she known it was Earl?

It had been his scent, all male musk and something citrus with a hint of spice. His aura. His magnetism. Only to herself could she admit she’d been highly attracted and attuned to Risto’s hunky friend since she’d met him upon her arrival at Sanctuary. His large, muscular body had drawn her eye each and every time he entered a room. His thick, dark hair and dark eyes, his starkly masculine face, were attractive and all indicative of his mixed heritage of Native American and Scandinavian. The whole package appealed to her.

But she’d bite her tongue off before admitting any of that to him or anyone else.

What had Callie been thinking? She hadn’t needed a maid of honor and a best man. This had been a setup from the beginning.

You know. Callie wants you to have a real man for a change.

Shut up. Just shut up.

Feeling Earl’s stare on the back of her neck, she finally answered, “I knew because you’re the only man here who has the audacity to grab me from behind.” She shrugged and pulled away from another light touch of his lips on her sensitive neck.

He released her, but didn’t move away. His warm scent enveloped her; it was delicious and made her mouth water. No, she wouldn’t think about kissing his firm, sensuous lips to check if he tasted as good as he smelled.

Tessa turned within the small space between the counter and his body. “Um, could you give me some space, please?”

She stared at his chest, his very broad chest. If she looked into his eyes, she knew she’d find desire. She’d seen the hunger in his dark-eyed gaze each and every time she caught him looking at her. God knew, she couldn’t afford to fall into those heated depths. Couldn’t let him see too deeply into the heart of her. First, because he would see she was attracted in return, and second, because he would see the
real
her. It would hurt to see his warm gaze turn cold with revulsion when he realized Tessa was a complete fraud.

“Did you eat?” Earl asked. “And why aren’t you upstairs napping?” He stroked a hand down her ponytail and gave it a gentle tug.

“I’m a big girl,” she informed him in a snippy manner, “and I don’t take orders from you.”

Earl frowned at her response and tipped her chin up. His touch was firm, but also gentle. “Dammit, Tessa. You’re paler than you were before breakfast.” He took her shoulders and turned her toward the breakfast nook. “And since you don’t seem to have any common sense as it pertains to your health, someone needs to take control. And, right now, sweetheart, that someone is me.” He gently nudged her. “Go sit with Keely and the baby. I’ll bring you some of my special oatmeal and an orange juice.”

“Earl…” Her protest was cut off by a light swat on her rear. “Oww.” She rubbed her bottom and angled her head to shoot him a glare. “That hurt.”