The Protective Dominant Read online

  Taz thought about it. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Can I bring someone?”

  “You? Bringing someone?”

  “Yeah, what of it?”

  Luke shut his mouth. “Nothing. Do I know this woman?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Taz, man, you gotta tell me more than that.”

  A proprietary grin tugged at Taz’s mouth.

  “Shit, you’re gone over this girl.”

  “Am not. See you later.”

  “Taz!”

  He shut the truck door in Luke’s face.

  * * * *

  The lightning woke Taz hours later. He sat up in bed and a fine mist hit his chest. He’d left the window open so that he could hear Jenny, so he could see her if he needed to. Another blade of blue white speared the ground and some instinct made him lunge to the window.

  He stood there, peering out, trying to see in the obsidian darkness. Rain fell like a waterfall. Thunder rumbled overhead like stampeding horses. When light flashed again, he spotted her, a little heap on the earth.

  Jesus, was she moving?

  He yanked on shorts and ran barefoot out of his house, slipped on mud, swore.

  Jenny. Have to get to her.

  He trampled her flower bed getting to her.

  She was huddled in the cold, her shoulders hunched up, her body hugging in on itself to try to keep warm. Her eyes were wide and spacey. A garden trowel lay limp in one hand.

  “Jenny!” Taz shook her. He’d never done that before. She rattled in his arms like loose change. “Jenny!”

  Her dark eyes widened, saw him. She lifted a trembling hand.

  He crushed her to him, covered her mouth with his.

  There in the streaming rain and the dirt, he kissed her, taking her breath, feeling her heart pound against his chest. Her hand curled in his hair, tugging him closer.

  He sipped from her as if he hadn’t ever had a taste of a woman. She felt like his first, the lightning, the thunder, inside his body, the storm all his, brewing for weeks, exploding now. “My woman.”

  She made a soft sound. Agreement? Despair? He felt her nails digging into his lower arms.

  He kissed her, dying for her lips. She’d gotten inside him. Crept in like a mouse and made her pain his.

  He was lying on top of her. Her long hair was spread out, lodged with windfall, slick with mud. He kissed every part of her chilly skin he could touch then reached down and tore her nightie at her neckline Her breasts were pale, luscious and he buried his face between them, sucking desperately while he held her down.

  She howled, banging small fists against him, scoring his face to get to his eyes. “Jenny!” Hoarse, animal sounds. She scuttled from him. “Jenny, it’s me.” I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know why that happened. It was the storm. It was how sad you are. You tear me up.

  I want you.

  She crawled for her house. Then before he could catch her, she was running, her gown half falling off as she changed direction toward the street.

  Taz ran after her and every terrified sound she made was a spike to his heart. He was scaring her. He knew it. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t just leave her.

  He barreled into her and swept her off her feet.

  She fought. Teeth and slaps until she seemed to run out of strength.

  Chest aching, he carried her to her front door. He put her on the swing.

  She erupted from it and ran to her door, tearing at it, her hair whipping around her.

  He shoved it open.

  Her eyes burned him and then she disappeared inside, slamming it behind her.

  Taz sagged to the porch on his knees, scratched, bleeding and horrified with himself. He hadn’t meant to scare her. She hadn’t pushed him away, not at first. He’d been sure he’d felt the brush of her tongue, her fingers pulling him closer.

  He couldn’t go back to his house.

  He didn’t know what to do.

  Shivering, he went to her porch swing, huddling on it, watching as more lightning stabbed down from the sky like angry knives.

  He hung his head, not knowing if the warmth on his face was blood or tears.

  * * * *

  Jenny woke on her living room sofa.

  She grimaced as she sat up and saw the pretty floral upholstery smeared with mud…

  Whoa.

  She rubbed her forehead, trying to put together the pieces of last night. She had no memory of going outside, but that was typical.

  Taz?

  Kissing her, inhaling her, licking her mouth while she clutched him closer…

  She sprang to her feet and raced for her front door, opened it, looked outside.

  It was still raining, but not storming as it had been. Now the curtain of water made a soft world.

  And Taz was asleep on her porch swing, his huge body curled in on itself.

  Cool air against her chest made her look down. Holy! She stepped back inside and pulled her old robe from the closet, belting it on and feeling immediately more in control of herself.

  Pushing back her rat’s tail hair, she went to Taz, knelt beside him.

  There was dried blood smearing an angry scratch on his right cheekbone. He looked exhausted, pale and shivering in his sleep. When was the last time he’d slept through the night?

  She reached out and brushed his hair off his forehead.

  His green eyes snapped open and she sat back with a gasp.

  He studied her. “Are you okay?”

  Throat too tight to speak, she nodded.

  He touched her arm, she cupped his cheek and she was pressed against him, breathing in wet man and earth. He held her so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe, but she needed it.

  “I was so worried about you.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I thought after we went out to the mall, after you helped me with the fence, I wouldn’t come out here anymore, but last night…” She squeezed her eyes tight. “It was worse than ever.”

  “Hey, it’s part of healing, right? You don’t—bam!—get over stuff. Sometimes you even get worse for a little while.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s what the therapist said to expect.”

  “Well, you know, she’s right.”

  Jenny dropped her head and Taz rubbed her neck, easing the tension. “Jenny, how much, ah, do you remember about last night?”

  “You mean about you kissing me?”

  A muscle ticked in Taz’s jaw. He nodded.

  “I remember everything.”

  He dropped his head. A second later she lifted it, cupping his face so he was forced to look into her eyes. “It wasn’t you. I got scared because… Something about you on top of me… I got scared.”

  “I brought back your attack.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded.

  Taz balled his fists. “I want to kill those men.”

  She sighed. Yeah, she’d been there, but she’d only be killing shadows, since that’s all she remembered. “Taz, will you come inside so I can make you breakfast?”

  He blinked. “You want to let me inside your house?”

  “It seems only fair since you made me breakfast recently. And, to be honest, I’m a way better cook than you are.”

  “But I scared you.”

  She took his hand. “Not you.”

  “Jenny.” His voice was hoarse.

  “Look, I freaked out and nearly flashed the neighborhood. You stopped me.”

  “I… Yeah.”

  “So thanks.”

  He got up very slowly, as if he was as stiff and sore as she was from their wild night. “I think you need a shower,” she said.

  “So do you. Your hair looks like witchella.”

  She laughed and squeezed his hand. “Come inside. It’ll be okay… Just come inside now.”

  Chapter Five

  Taz showered in Jenny’s little guest bathroom. He felt too large and masculine in the pretty floral space, which about summed up the way he felt in her entire house. Delicate wallpaper and
pretty chairs with gilt legs that looked like they’d crumble under his weight.

  But at least the water was hot, taking away some of the aches in his shoulders. What the hell had he been doing, sleeping on a porch swing all night?

  Except he hadn’t been able to leave her. No way. What if she’d run out into the street again? He’d had to be there to keep her safe.

  His shorts were thick with mud. He decided he was better off wearing one of her mauve towels around his waist and taking them home to his washing machine.

  When he went downstairs, Jenny was already in her kitchen and she was singing.

  She had an off-key voice, but it had a sultry quality as she sang along with a female country singer. And the fact that she was singing when last night she’d been terrified, when he’d terrified her, made some of the strung tension in his shoulders loosen.

  “We’re having crêpes,” she told him. “Do you want to pour yourself some coffee?”

  He wasted no time in doing it. “Are you having some?”

  She shook her head. “I have coconut oolong in the morning.”

  He grimaced. “Sounds like one of those brands they used to sell at Coffee Dreams.”

  “Female type tea, you mean?” she asked so sweetly but he knew better than to step into her baited trap by agreeing with her. Though he had thought it, of course. “I miss that place.”

  “Me too. They had great espresso.”

  “Very manly.” Her moss agate eyes laughed at him and just then a ray of sunlight shot through her window through the clouds, illuminating her profile. She looked pure. Like a dancer before she goes out on stage, like an artist before she paints at her easel.

  He memorized how she looked so he could call it up later, feeling himself sinking even further.

  “That’s as good a segue as any I could come up with,” he said. “They’re having a kind of barn raising at Coffee Dreams tonight. I want you to come with me.”

  She froze, but then her jaw tightened stubbornly. “All right.”

  He knew it was the last thing she wanted to do, that her instincts were screaming at her to stay safe, especially after the fallout last night, but she wasn’t going to let herself give in.

  “You’re a hell of a woman.”

  Her eyes widened. “You must really want your crêpes.”

  “What kind?”

  She talked about herbs and berries picked fresh from her garden, but he barely heard her. His attention was not focused on the food but on the competent way she moved around her kitchen, with the wet shine of her clean braid and her small shapely body shown off in shorts and a T-shirt.

  Remembering those hot kisses in her garden, he had to drop his gaze. He wanted to do it again. Even knowing that he’d terrified her, he wanted to press his lips to hers, share her breath, feel her urgency.

  More, he found himself wondering how she’d react if he took her to bed. Would that wonderful laughter be in her eyes, that softness only for him?

  His throat tight, he gulped more scalding coffee. It couldn’t happen, no matter what his body yearned for. He couldn’t hide who he was from her. He’d been right the first time he’d set eyes on her, to know he had to stay away from her.

  “I have a half shift this afternoon,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.” She meant it, he could tell.

  He shrugged. “I want to work on the fence before I head to the station.”

  “What made you decide to be a firefighter?” The crêpes were sizzling in the pan and the gorgeous bouquet of ricotta cheese and fresh fruit rose in the air like incense. His stomach growled.

  “I liked the danger.”

  “That’s it?”

  His lips quirked wryly. “It’s why I’ll probably never go far in rank. My buddy Luke has a true calling for helping people. He’s not a risk taker by nature. His heart just outweighs his common sense sometimes.”

  She studied him over her shoulder, her braid sliding on her back like silk. He tried not to imagine what it would be like to fist that braid in one hand while he held her still for his kisses. “Why do I have the feeling that when Luke takes risks, you’re always there to watch over him?”

  “He’s married. Soon to be a daddy.”

  “Ummm.” She didn’t sound like she’d bought in to his reasoning. Then she frowned before turning back to the food she was preparing. “I’ve met him, haven’t I? He’s the gorgeous blond with the sweet smile. Younger than you are.”

  “Gorgeous?” Taz growled.

  She gave him a mischievous look. “Not as gorgeous as you are, not that it does you any good to hear things like that with your ego.”

  His ego was actually far more tender than he thought because he was still feeling the burn of jealousy over her description of Luke. If Luke had been her neighbor, would they have gotten involved? He could see Luke liking her, wanting to take care of her, and hell yeah, what man wouldn’t want her?

  And she would have wanted Luke. They would have dated. Luke was far better at concealing his dark desires than Taz. Luke probably could put them aside for a woman he truly loved. He’d tried with Sian, hadn’t he?

  Bitterness rose like a black cloud from his gut. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t be the kind of man that Jenny would love, would submit to.

  “He’s married,” he repeated starkly.

  Jenny blinked, then frowned again. “Well…yeah. Somehow I’ll resist seducing him despite being the wild poacher that I am.”

  When Taz’s face didn’t soften, she put her hands on her hips. “You have got to be kidding. You think I’m going to make a play for a married man?”

  “Women will do anything.”

  His words were a slap.

  She swallowed and looked like she was going to cry.

  But women just used tears, he knew.

  She put down the spatula with quiet dignity. “I think you better go.”

  “Wait.” This was moving too fast, making him uneasy. He didn’t understand her. “You forgave me for kissing you last night.” His voice got husky as he said the word ‘kissing’. “But you kick me out for warning you off a friend?”

  Her eyes narrowed into slits and he had a sinking feeling that he was all over the place with this situation, that he had screwed up again, but he didn’t know how.

  “The kiss was mutual. I might have got scared, but you let me go as soon as I was. I’m hurt at your assumption that just because I’m a woman, I’d try to poach a married man.” Her eyes burned him. Her voice got very quiet, so quiet he could barely hear her. “I was a virgin before I was raped.”

  His stomach rolled. His head fuzzed as if flies were circling it. Next thing he knew Jenny had shoved him back in the chair and was supporting him as he swayed.

  “…you okay?” Her voice cut into the static crackling his ears. He swung his head up to look at her then had to swallow, swallow again, kicking off his gag reflex. So small, so delicate and her first time had been—

  Sharply, “Put your head between your knees!”

  He breathed in and out, in and out. Heat burned his face as he realized he’d nearly puked…then fainted.

  He covered his eyes and sat slumped at her table, unable to look at her. She was running a hand over the side of his arm, stroking him, calming him.

  He cleared his throat and hoped she wouldn’t notice his damp eyes when he finally faced her, but one look and he knew he wasn’t fooling her.

  He dropped his gaze.

  “Taz…”

  He shook his head when she tried to touch him. How could she bear it after what he’d—

  “Sorry,” he rasped.

  “So you should be.” Her voice was cold, strong, like a fast moving stream.

  She got up and turned off the burner. Just as well as his appetite had died. He wasn’t sure he could face food again for a very, very long time.

  After a moment, she sat down next to him. “Why do you distrust women so much?” Her voice was neutral.

  He
’d give anything, anything not to talk about this, but after what he’d said, he couldn’t… He had to try to make it up to her.

  The truth seemed suddenly a small thing.

  “My mother sold me from the time I was ten until I ran away at fifteen.”

  He heard her inhale sharply. Couldn’t look at her.

  “I know what it’s like to be raped, Jenny.”

  “Oh, my God.” She reached out and crushed his hand with hers. “Taz.”

  Only someone who had lived what he had could understand, so he let her hold onto him.

  “Is that why you’re helping me?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, all right!”

  The only sound was his harsh breathing.

  Then she released his hand and got up. He heard her go back to their breakfast, heard the sounds of plates and cutlery and then she placed two steaming crêpes in front of him. “It’s slightly burned, but you need to eat if you’re going to go to work,” she said.

  Because she was right and because, thank Christ, she didn’t ask him anything more, he forced himself to eat. He knew it was wonderful, but it tasted like sand. He had trouble swallowing the ball of misery in his throat.

  He’d wanted to help her with her ghosts and now he’d been ambushed by his.

  “Taz, if I try to get out more, do things I used to, will you begin to examine your ideas about women?”

  His gaze made it to her throat. After a moment he gave a jerky nod.

  “Okay then.” She reached out and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Instinctively he pushed his face into her touch, yearning.

  They didn’t speak. He thought he’d break or maybe she would if they did.

  “I’ll help you with the fence. Tomorrow I’m going to visit the pup… Maybe even bring him home.”

  “Holy shit,” he croaked, then cleared his throat again. “That’s fast.”

  “The shelter left a message—they need to make room for another puppy so the sooner I can take him the better.”

  “I can swing by the pet store, get some stuff before I start my shift,” Taz offered. He felt as if he were trying to walk normally over slippery ice. Somehow he had to make it to firmer ground.

  “Oh, would you do that?” Jenny got up and went to her purse on the kitchen counter.

  “Do not try to give me cash,” he said in his voice of doom.