Dark Protectors: Provoked Part 3

Either way, his heart rolled over.

Warmth flushed through him, so hot, so fast, his ears rang. His mind blanked. For the first time in centuries, his brain shut off. The woman was crazy. Stepping in, he grasped her chin and tilted her head back.

Her eyes widened, and then her gaze lowered to his lips. A soft sound of surprise emerged with her breath.

He dove in, allowing the animal within to awaken. For the first time in three centuries, there was no thought. All instinct ruled as his mouth took hers . . . no finesse, no calculation, just pure, raw need. He shoved her against the truck, his other hand clutching her hip as he went deeper.

Honeysuckle exploded along his taste buds as his tongue swept inside her mouth. Not gentle, not persuasive, just taking. Claiming.

And it wasn't enough. Not even close to enough.

Pressing into her, body to body, heat to heat, something clicked. Beyond his brain, beyond his body . . . somewhere deeper.

Finally, he found home.

Her nails bit into his skin as she rose to her tiptoes, meeting him more than halfway. A small whimper escaped her as she tightened her hold, her nipples pebbling against him.

A low growl centered in his chest, and he palmed her b.u.t.t, yanking her into his erection. At the contact, fire rippled up his spine. He needed to be inside her . . . now.

Her flesh filled his hand and he squeezed, feeling her moan inside his mouth. The jeans were a hindrance. With a growl of impatience, he slid his palm beneath her waistband and found silky smooth skin. No underwear-or she wore a thong. He slid his finger over. Yep. She was wearing a thong. Jesus, his head might blow off. As he kneaded her b.u.t.t, awareness pressed in. She was cold. Or rather, her rear was cold.

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, his gaze on her upturned face. Snow fell on her lashes as her eyelids fluttered open. Her cheeks were rosy, her mouth bruised. Tempting lips formed a perfect O as awareness filtered into her eyes.

Flattening her palms against his chest, she tilted her head to the side, a question pursing her lips.

The restaurant door burst open, and several men wearing faded flannels stomped out. They stopped. The one in the front, bushy beard covering his face, frowned. "Amber? You okay?"

Thoughts scattered across her face.

Realization slammed Kane, but before he could react, she shoved him back. Hard.

"Yes. I need to get inside," she breathed. Pivoting, she hustled through the snow to the front door. "Have a good night, boys." She darted inside the restaurant.

The men glared and then plodded toward their various rigs to take off.

Kane stood alone in the dark, snow cooling his face, his c.o.c.k throbbing, his temper spiraling. Wait a minute. He didn't have a temper. d.a.m.n it. Without question, he needed to get himself under control before yanking Amber back outside. His palms itched with the need to finish what they'd just started.

The phone in his back pocket buzzed. A quick glance confirmed the call came from headquarters. For once in his life, Kane ignored the king's call. Shoving the phone away, he eyed the restaurant door. The phone buzzed again, somehow more insistently. Jesus. He flipped the lid open. "What?"

There was a pause before Dage spoke. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Irritation had Kane's voice emerging hoa.r.s.e. "What's wrong is that I'm on a mission and people keep f.u.c.king calling me. That's what's wrong."

Silence reigned for a minute. "Well, I'm f.u.c.king calling you because we intercepted a communication-two demon scouts are heading for you right now. You have about an hour before they arrive."

"Now that's a good reason to call." Kane rubbed his eyes. "Thanks for the heads-up."

"I'll send Talen for backup."

Kane's eyes flashed open. Talen had no finesse. "Keep Talen home. I've got this." No way would Kane let one of his brothers manhandle Amber. Even as the thought zinged through his head, he acknowledged the irony. One kiss and he wanted to protect the woman. "I need to get a grip."

"What was that?"

s.h.i.t. He'd said that out loud. What the h.e.l.l was wrong with him? "I said, I have a good grip on her. I'll be in touch." He flipped the phone shut.

The stress of failing time after time to rescue Jase would cause anybody to lose control for a moment. Kane straightened his shirt, taking several deep breaths of the chilly air. Calm settled over him. He hadn't slept in too long-an easily remedied situation, and one he'd take care of the second he delivered Amber to headquarters.

Squaring his shoulders, he swiveled around and reached the door in two strides. Tugging the thick oak open, he stepped inside. A cash register sat before him. The main area of the restaurant lay to the right, an alcove to the left. The scents of burnt bacon and scrambled eggs. .h.i.t him as he viewed the mostly empty booths lining the window. n.o.body sat at the stools lining the counter. Small and not even close to quaint, the restaurant didn't do much business at three in the morning. An inebriated trio of women sat in the farthest booth-the women who'd ridden the saddles earlier. One wore a drink-riddled sash with the words FORTY AND FANTASTIC bedazzled across the middle.

She caught his eye, smiling widely as she teetered in the booth.

He gave a short nod and glanced around the room. Amber wasn't in sight. Lifting his head, he inhaled. The scent of wild heather lingered under the bacon smell. Following the scent into the alcove, he stopped short in front of two restrooms, one labeled with the word HEIFERS, the other BULLS. And people thought he was clueless when it came to women. If someone called one of his sisters-in-law a heifer, they'd die. Painfully.

He rubbed his chin and frowned at the paneled walls. "d.a.m.no is totus ut abyssus." Shaking his head, he shoved open the door for heifers. Empty. Yet her scent clung strongly to the room. Cursing his stupidity, he strode across damaged tiles to the half-opened window at the end of three stalls. He peered out and glared at her perfect boot-prints in the snow.

Yanking his overcoat closer, he stuck one leg over the sill, scooted under, and dropped to the ground. If his brothers could see him now, he'd never live it down. He'd lost one tiny human, and he'd just jumped out of a heifer bathroom. "f.u.c.k." No need to swear in Latin. His desire turned to extreme irritation. When he found Amber, and he would, they were going to get some d.a.m.n things straight.

He followed the footsteps back to the bar and an empty parking spot. She'd borrowed the Suburban that had been parked next to the building all night. Snow flew as he stomped his boots clean. "I'm the smartest f.u.c.king person on the planet," he muttered.

Glancing around the deserted parking lot as snow bombarded his overcoat, a smile rose from deep within him. Then laughter. Throwing back his head, he laughed until his ribs ached. Finally, he sobered and wiped his eyes.

Now wasn't the time for laughing.

She'd impressed the h.e.l.l out of him. Maybe he'd finally found the one person smarter than him-he'd never been outmaneuvered like this. Another chuckle escaped him as he turned to run after the most exasperating woman he'd ever met.

But man, could she kiss.

CHAPTER 4.

Amber tiptoed into the ancient farmhouse and paused as reality set in. Grandma Hilde was in the hospital. No need to be quiet. With a sigh, she stomped her boots free of snow on the threadbare rug and then sat on the polished wooden steps to yank off the boots.

A low meow echoed before Picard wound around her legs. The gray tomcat had lost an eye and was missing fur down the right side of his body from some tragedy that had occurred before he'd adopted her. She picked him up, rubbing her nose against his good side. "I know I left you enough food, so stop asking for more. You wouldn't believe the night I had."

Her lips still tingled.

She shook her head. The best kiss of her life had come from a nut job. A crazy, s.e.xy-as-h.e.l.l lunatic. Life was so not fair.

Picard purred against her for a moment and then struggled to get down. She released the finicky animal so he could dart into the kitchen.

A clock ticked in the quiet gathering room, and darkness cascaded from the kitchen. The only two rooms on the first floor were empty without Grandma around. Amber stood, peering out the window at the snow outside. So pure and fluffy-yet so dang cold. The sun would rise in about an hour, and she should try to get some sleep.

Glancing toward the living room, she gave a short laugh. "Kirk and Worf, get off the sofa."

The two battered but now healthy black labs didn't even stop snoring. She'd rescued the dogs from an abusive situation a year ago, and they'd quickly taken over the house.

"Whatever," she muttered. There was no sense shoving them off as they'd just jump back on the second she went upstairs. "Do you want to go outside?"

They didn't even open an eye.

She shrugged. Someone from their small community had probably let the dogs out earlier. "Fine. See you in the morning."

An ache set up in her back that traveled to her neck as she climbed the stairs toward her bedroom. Two bedrooms shared the second floor with a bathroom between them. Old, clean, and comfortable, the house had been Amber's home for nearly twenty years, since they'd settled in the eco-village.

But the farmhouse didn't seem like a home without Grandma Hilde.

Amber trudged into her bedroom, flipping on the light. Papers spread over the wedding-band quilt Hilde had sewn for Amber from her old baby blankets. With a sigh, Amber sat and shoved the college admission papers to the side.

The community college had open enrollment, so even though she'd only earned the GED, she'd get in. But how would she fare in the cla.s.ses?

Sure, her grandma and their small community had homeschooled her, teaching her everything from math to germ warfare. But it still wasn't a public education. Had she learned everything the other people had? At least since it was a community college, she'd be among other twenty-five-year-olds and not a bunch of teens.

She blinked, wincing at the dust on the hand-carved dresser across the room. A member of her community had given the stunning piece to her on her sixteenth birthday, and even the dust didn't take away from its beauty. The house definitely needed a good cleaning before Hilde came home.

The old-fashioned green phone on her nightstand rang.

She grabbed the receiver, her heart racing to life. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi, baby girl. I got your note," her grandmother said.

Tears sprang to Amber's eyes. "You're awake." She'd known her grandma would wake up and had left a note that she was to call immediately, regardless of the time. "The doctors said your concussion was really bad."

"What do they know?" Hilde coughed. "Though, whatever they gave me, I'm groggy as heck. There's something I know I need to tell you, but my brain won't kick into gear. What happened, anyway?"

"Jonsie went crazy and kicked you." Amber shook her head. The mild old horse had never even snorted loudly before.

"Oh no. Is he okay?"

Amber smiled. Leave it to her grandma to be worried about the horse. "Jonsie is fine. After he kicked you, he smacked his nose into the wall and needed st.i.tches. We think he must've been drugged."

"By Hanson," Hilde breathed.

"Probably. But we don't have proof, and the sheriff is Hanson's brother-in-law, so . . ."

"I'll figure out something when my brain starts working again. Darn drugs." Hilde slurred the last part.

"Okay-I'll come down there right now."

Hilde sighed. "No, you get some rest. I'm really tired."

Amber nodded, relief making her voice husky. "Okay. I'll come visit you in a few hours."

"Visit? Come get me in a few hours. I'm coming home. 'Night."

Amber hung up the phone and blinked away tears. Thank goodness. Hilde was the healthiest person she knew, never even getting a cold. As usual, she'd gone down to the community barn to feed the horses. When Jonsie had knocked her out, she'd looked so fragile and suddenly old, lying on the ground.

Picard jumped on the bed, purring as he settled into Amber's side. She leaned over and flipped off the light, then curled around the rumbling cat. "Everything will be all right, baby." Finally, she closed her eyes and slipped into sleep.

Morning came far too early. A hot shower erased the aches of the previous night before Amber threw on old jeans and a sweatshirt. After she fetched her grandmother from the hospital later in the morning, she would finally register for those college cla.s.ses. Hopping downstairs, she let the dogs and cat out.

Winding into the kitchen, she glanced at the canning jars lined up on the counter. Maybe she'd take huckleberries from the freezer and make jam after retrieving her grandmother.

A knock sounded on the door, and she paused in place. "Come on in."

The door opened and her friend Mason stomped inside, followed by two elderly ladies, Mildred and June.

"We heard you ran into some trouble on the road." Irritation darkened Mason's faded blue eyes as he hurried into the kitchen. He rubbed the gray whiskers on his chin, a sure sign of his agitation.

Darn Butch. The overprotective bear must've called when she'd had to borrow his Suburban. He, of course, had made her tell him the entire story before handing over the keys.

"I'm fine. Though we really need to talk about Hanson because he isn't going away," Amber said. In fact, Hanson had upped his campaign with those drunk morons to get their property significantly. The jerk wanted the land to build a high-end golf course community by the northern rocks.

Amber gently removed Mildred Mallosee's coat from her frail body and helped the elderly woman to a chair at the table. "Grandma is awake and thinks she can come home today."

Mason dropped into a seat with a sigh of relief. "That's good news. The doctors weren't hopeful she'd wake up, but I knew she'd make it."

Yeah. The doctors had no clue how strong Hilde could be. Amber soothed her palm along the table. Hand-carved and long enough to seat their entire village of twenty people, the table bore grooves and scars showcasing family gatherings. For two decades, since Grandma Hilde and Amber had relocated to the small community farm, every community meeting had taken place at the table.

The scent of Hilde's natural and homemade lemon cleanser hung comfortably in the air.

Matching oak cabinets held an eclectic mix of homemade tableware for the group. They had more than a couple of skilled potters in the community. Amber eyed the ancient coffeepot near the stove. "Anybody want coffee? I just bought organic beans."

June Parrymore leaned forward from her place at the table, her unruly gray hair tucked somewhat up in a hat. She tapped a huge syringe filled with a golden liquid against her large hand. "I knew Hilde would be all right-I'll go with you to pick her up later. But forget coffee. We need to talk about the guy who kidnapped you. Was he one of Hanson's men?"

Kane. The mysterious, s.e.xy-as-h.e.l.l, unfortunately crazy Kane. "I don't think so." Amber dropped into a seat, her legs softening in relief after being on them all night. "He helped me get away from the two guys and seemed to be another lost soul. I'm sure he's long gone at this point."

"What if he isn't?" June's lips firmed into a white line. Where Mildred barely took s.p.a.ce, June dominated it.

Amber blew out air. "If he isn't, we're in a world of trouble."

"Meaning what?" Mason asked.

"Meaning, Kane didn't seem like a guy who loses often. But I really don't think he was with Hanson."

June pursed her wrinkled lips. "I don't like the sound of him."

Yeah, but the guy could kiss. Amber shook her head. Where was her brain? She pointed to the syringe. "What's in the vial?"

June shrugged. "Tranq. We were heading down to the southern barn to knock Jonsie out so we could take a look at his st.i.tches."

Amber nodded. The group all shared a love for animals. Ages mostly over forty . . . six men and fourteen women, a community who'd gathered to live together and take care of the land as much as possible. They lived off the land, protecting it.

More than ever, Amber needed Grandma Hilde home since Hanson had picked up his campaign of terror in an effort to get the northern rocks.