Page 11 of Protector


  Sitting up, she shoved away the feeling. He had used her, plain and simple. No way was she allowing herself to feel anything for him. Looking around for her shirt, desperately needing the barrier of clothing between them, she avoided eye contact. His gaze was heavy and unnerving as she scooped her shirt up from the floor and pulled it over her head.

  Crossing her arms in front of her body, she forced herself to look at him. He was gloriously nude. It was the first time she had seen him this way in daylight. He was so perfect it took her breath away. She still wanted him. The realization slapped her in the face even as he wet her between the legs. She swallowed, angry at her body’s reaction to him.

  Abruptly, she averted her gaze but not before she saw the look in his eyes. The satisfaction that he was able to get to her. Her jaw clenched. “What do I have to do with all of this?”

  “A lot,” he said. “The Arions—that’s what the super soldiers, at least some of them—call themselves. They took over the research facility and now intend to take over much more.”

  Holly’s head lifted abruptly, her eyes locking with his. “Arions,” she repeated. “As in Hitler’s perfect race.”

  “Exactly. They’re evil and determined to dominate.”

  “Sounds like a fight, not science. I don’t understand my value.”

  His lips thinned. “Everyone who was involved with this project was either captured or killed. To make matters worse, all the research data was taken. We need to figure out how to stop the Arions.”

  “And this involves me how?” she asked but, in her mind, she already knew. They needed her because she could find answers.

  “We need you to pinpoint weaknesses.”

  Holly pushed to her feet and walked to the window but she didn’t bother to move the curtain or try to look outside. She was thinking about her father and how appalled he would be to see his dream turn to this.

  “There’s one more thing.” Something in his tone made her turn to face him. “Our government wants your help but…they want you, too.”

  Her eyes went wide. “They?”

  He nodded slowly. “The Arions.”

  Her hand went to her throat. They want you too. The words repeated in her mind. Taunting her. “Oh, God.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “This can’t be happening.” Her voice was a raspy whisper. Pressing her fingertips to the space between her brows she shut her eyes. “No.”

  “I’m sorry,” he offered softly.

  Holly opened her eyes, desperately searching his expression, looking for something in his face. What, she wasn’t exactly sure. His words repeated in her mind. He was called in when there was imminent danger.

  Her eyes dropped to his bandage for an instant before lifting again. “It was me they were after last night, wasn’t it?”

  He hesitated a minute as if deciding how to respond. “Yes. And me.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer, but needing to know.

  “I work for the government in a unit considered more myth than reality. In the eyes of the normal American, I don’t exist.”

  “Some kind of Special Forces or CIA?”

  “Something like that.”

  She didn’t like the vagueness of his response. But she also had to face facts. As angry as she was with him for betraying her and for being so secretive, she couldn’t dismiss the fact that he had possibly saved her life.

  Her eyes narrowed on his. “You should have been honest with me.”

  “I didn’t lie,” he argued but his tone was gentle. “I meant to tell you everything sooner, Holly. I wanted to.” He opened his mouth and shut it again as if rethinking his words. “Things just got out of control between us.”

  The bandage on his side drew her attention again. Her brows dipped. How was he moving around so easily? The doctor in her stepped forward. “I need to check your stitches. All the activity…” She stopped mid-sentence, feeling awkward for bringing up what they had done together.

  “Didn’t harm me,” he assured her. “I’m fine.”

  She moved toward him. Whatever had happened between them, good or bad, she was not watching him die from an infected wound she stitched. Even now, she cringed as she thought of the horrid method she had used.

  “I need to check it.” Stopping in front of him, trying not to think about his nudity, she reached for him.

  He grabbed her wrist, gently halting her action. “No,” he said tensely. “It’s fine.”

  She frowned. “I used needle and thread, for God’s sake! I have to check it for infection.”

  “No,” he repeated and this time he had a sharp edge to his tone.

  She dropped her hand as if she’d been slapped. After several frustrated moments, she said, “I’m going to take a shower.”

  Turning on her heels, she marched angrily toward the bathroom. She shut the door with a loud bang. Emotion fisted in her chest as she leaned on the sink for stability in the only form she could find.

  Her life was out of control.

  * * * * *

  Mason sat on the edge of the bed, cursing his stupidity. Snapping at Holly had only made matters worse. He just didn’t know how to tell her what she needed to know. No. What she had a right to know.

  Abruptly, he pushed to his feet, grabbed his jeans and put them on, not bothering to snap them. His decision was made. She had to know the truth. Briskly, he walked toward the bathroom, pushing open the door without knocking. If he didn’t act now he’d change his mind.

  Holly whirled on him, tears streaking her cheeks. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He grabbed her and pulled her to him. “This,” he said as he covered her mouth with his, delving his tongue into her mouth with a desperation he couldn’t contain.

  Her response came slow but her arms wrapped around his shoulders and, inch by inch, she melted into him, her tongue moving against his.

  After long moments, reluctantly he ended the kiss, staring down at her. Slowly, he let her go, moving to sit down on the toilet seat. He could feel her confusion, like a mist in the air. But soon it would end. “Check the wound.”

  She moved to his side, her eyes holding his for several beats before they dropped to the bandage. When her fingers made contact, he shut his eyes. He felt the bandage lift.

  Waiting for her response felt like eternal torture. She said nothing. The soft touch of her fingers along the stitches made him open his eyes. She had sunk to her knees and was studying his skin with complete absorption. Leaning to the side, she pulled open a drawer and withdrew a pair of scissors.

  Wordlessly, she removed the thread.

  With a heavy sigh, she leaned back on her heels and looked up at him. “It’s amazing. It would take a normal person two weeks to get to this stage of healing.”

  Staring down at her with half-closed eyes, he wondered about her reaction, while he cringed at the inference that he wasn’t normal. “I expected—”

  “Me to freak out?” she asked with a challenge in her tone. “Obviously, since you didn’t want me to look at it. I’m a scientist. One who has studied these exact kinds of genetic enhancements.”

  His lips thinned into a grim line. “A group of special ops men, me included, were told we were being immunized against man-made viruses. By the time we figured out what was going on, it was too late.”

  Holly blinked. “They tricked you?”

  “Yes,” he agreed, “they tricked us.” Mason wanted her to fully understand. He’d gone this far. “I won’t lie to you. Once I got used to the new me, for a while at least, I was okay with it. I’m a soldier, Holly. Advantages in battle are welcomed.” He pinned her in a stare. “I’m one of those killing machines you hate so much.”

  “Not by choice,” she said without looking away, her voice very soft. “And I don’t hate you.”

  He wasn’t going to let her hide from the truth. Though, he wasn’t prepared to tell her everything right now. It was simpl
y too much. “I was always a soldier. A man who was trained to serve and protect.” He hesitated. “And kill, if necessary.”

  Averting her gaze, she seemed to contemplate his words. “This is a lot to absorb at once.”

  Whatever he had hoped for from her response, it wasn’t this. No understanding words came from her mouth. He took solace in the fact she hadn’t completely rejected him.

  Inwardly, he found his resolve. However she felt about him, he had a job to do. That job included keeping her safe. “While you’re absorbing, pack a bag.”

  Her eyes lifted, wide with astonishment. “What? I can’t just up and leave. I have a job, and responsibilities.”

  He stood up. “Look beyond the here and now to the big picture, Holly. It’s what matters now.”

  She pushed to her feet. “I can’t go. I won’t!”

  “I’m not asking,” he said in a low voice, his eyes meeting hers and holding.

  Anger, and a hint of fear, flared in her eyes. “You can’t come in here and take over my life.”

  He didn’t so much as a blink. “I can and I am. Pack.”

  “I can’t leave,” she said, balling her fists by her side.

  “Holly.” As much as he hated to be coldhearted, she was leaving him no options. “You don’t seem to get it. You won’t last twenty-four hours if you stay here.”

  Her hand went to her neck. “Meaning?”

  “They want you dead or alive. What they want, they are ruthless about obtaining.”

  She stared at him, saying nothing. Mason reached out to touch her hair and she jerked back. “You’re destroying my life,” she whispered harshly.

  His hand dropped to his side. “You’re confused, Angel.” He couldn’t keep the bite from his tone. Her accusation tore at his heart. “I’m the one saving it.”

  He walked to the door and then paused. He wanted to say something to her. To make things right. He just didn’t know what. She thought he was a monster…just as he knew she would.

  Running his hand through his hair in an act of utter frustration, he left the room without another word.

  * * * * *

  Mason leaned against the kitchen counter as Sterling moved around Holly’s kitchen. He was pretty much making himself at home in her kitchen. “You are cooking enough to feed twenty people, not three.”

  Sterling ignored his comment. “How are you feeling?” He pulled a pan of biscuits from the oven.

  Running his hands over his jaw. “Like I need to shave.”

  After a visit to the guest bathroom, he had showered and, thanks to the suitcase he had in his truck, dressed in clean jeans and a black T-shirt.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about his discovery. To have Arion blood in his system held implications he didn’t want to face. Like a darker side that could turn evil.

  He lived with that fear because, truth be told, he’d known for some time he was different from the other men. Deep down he’d known why. Denial had simply been his point of sanity.

  And he damn sure hadn’t told anyone. But he knew and that was enough. A Black Knight could place a normal human in a hypnotic trance, willing them to do their bidding. Mason’s skill went one step further.

  Sterling snapped his fingers. “Back to the real world. Any progress with the lady?”

  He refocused on the present with effort. “I don’t know if I would call it progress.”

  “Give her time.” He took two plates from a cabinet and then moved to the table. “Come eat. You need food to heal.”

  Mason didn’t argue. He sat down and began filling his plate with a variety of foods sitting in bowls and pans in the center of the table. Sterling sat down, filled two glasses with chocolate milk and chucked the empty container across the room toward the trash can. It landed in the middle of the floor.

  Grunting, Mason swiveled around to pick it up. “It’s bad enough we’ve taken over her life, man. Don’t make it worse by trashing the place.”

  “It’s not like she’ll be back here.”

  “No,” Mason said. “But she doesn’t know that.”

  Sterling’s brows inched up instantly. “Why?”

  Mason let out a breath and picked up his fork. “One step at a time.” He didn’t offer anything more despite the expectant look on Sterling’s face. He focused on his food, and started eating.

  Sterling looked like he was holding back a smile. “She’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t she?”

  Mason settled back in his seat, milk carton deposited on top of the too-full trashcan. “I’m just feeling uptight in general.”

  Sterling took a drink and then set his glass down. “I assume we’re leaving for the mountain today?”

  “Yeah,” Mason said, shoving his plate to the side. “I won’t feel good about Holly’s safety until we get her underground where the Arions can’t track her.”

  “Agreed,” Sterling said. “The sooner she goes underground, the better.”

  * * * * *

  Dressed in worn jeans and a USA T-shirt, Holly stepped into the hallway. She sniffed. Smells mingled together. Eggs, biscuits and coffee. All coming from her kitchen.

  “Just make yourself at home,” she muttered with irritation as she marched down the hall.

  Rounding the corner to the kitchen, she stopped in the entrance and stared into the room. Eating heartily, sitting at her table, Holly found Mason and Sterling. Both men looked up the instant she appeared.

  Realization crept into her mind. They both had black eyes. Not normal. Not a genetic trait she would have thought the scientists would alter. It made no sense.

  “Morning,” Sterling said giving her a perfect white smile.

  “Making yourselves at home, I see.”

  “I cooked so you didn’t have to,” Sterling said, apparently unscathed by her cranky remark.

  She snorted rudely. “Like I would have.”

  Holly could feel Mason’s gaze as she moved. It made her nervous. What was it about the man that rattled her normally cool composure?

  She almost laughed at how ridiculous the thought was as she yanked the refrigerator door open. Of course, he made her nervous. He was a trained killer. One that had slipped beyond her defenses. There was no telling what kind of violence he was capable of performing. Yet, he had been tender and loving when he had made love to her. The contradiction was hard to process.

  After a moment of surveying the contents of the refrigerator, she shoved the door shut and stared at Mason and Sterling, then at their empty glasses. “Who drank my chocolate milk?”

  Mason and Sterling exchanged a look. “Ah,” Sterling said, obviously guilty. “Chocolate milk?”

  Holly’s eyes went to the trashcan. She made a disgusted sound. “My life is turned upside down. I’m being chased by aliens, two men I hardly know are eating my food and now I can’t even have,” she paused and pressed a finger in her chest, “the chocolate milk I bought!”

  “Holly—”

  She didn’t feel like listening. “Don’t,” she said, holding out a hand stop sign fashion. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. Nothing!” Their eyes locked for several strained moments before she whispered, “Just let me be.”

  Her voice cracked despite her efforts to keep it steady. All three of them knew her outburst had nothing to do with chocolate milk. The reality of her situation was a heavy load. Silence enveloped the room like a heavy blanket.

  Holly hated the way they stared at her. She turned and gave them her back. She pressed her palms against the counter and let her lashes float to her cheeks. Slowly, she counted to ten, taking slow breaths, in and out.

  Feeling a bit more in control, she found a plate and carried it to the table. She was a fighter. She could do this. Her method of dealing with battle was simply different from these men’s.

  She sat down between Mason and Sterling, feeling their surprised looks without making eye contact. But they kept looking and that started to get her all fired up again. She put down the
fork she had picked up and looked from one to the other.

  “What?” she demanded.

  Mumbling, both Mason and Sterling diverted their gazes and began eating. But now that she was talking, she wanted answers. Holly fixed Mason in a demanding stare. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Someplace safe,” he said noncommittally as he took a bite of his food.

  “I have a right to know where,” she spat back instantly.

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “When we get there, you’ll know.”

  Holly leaned forward and poked her finger at the table. “I want to know, Mason.”

  Sterling pushed to his feet and walked toward the sink. Neither Mason nor Holly looked at him. Mason leaned back in his chair. “I need you to trust me on this, Holly.”

  She glared at him and pushed to her feet, shoving the chair so that it made a loud scrape across the floor. “You’re tearing my life apart and I’m supposed to just blindly follow? Who in the hell do you think you are?”

  Their eyes locked in a fiery confrontation, before Holly made a frustrated sound and then turned and walked toward the sink. Sterling had disappeared. Smart man. She planted her palms on the counter, as she had before, and let her head drop between her shoulders. It simply didn’t seem too much to ask, to know where he was taking her.

  She felt, rather than heard, Mason’s approach. Something about his nearness did funny things to her insides. Being confused and angry didn’t seem to change this fact. His hands settled on her shoulders.

  Unexpectedly, as angry as she was, his touched calmed her. How was this possible when he was the center of her frustration? It defied logic. Holly found herself leaning back into him, as if her body had a mind of its own. In response, he stepped forward, his hard body cradling hers, his palms flattening on her stomach.

  “Since we are dealing with difficult subjects, there is something else we should discuss.”

  She was afraid to ask, so she didn’t. After a pause, he said, “We didn’t use protection.”