“Bitch,” the man cursed as she cried out. He jerked her arms behind her and she was hauled roughly to her feet.
Fighting to breathe, the metallic taste of her own blood in her mouth, the sickening stench of her own terror wrapped around her as she was once again face to face with one of her attackers.
“I’m a journalist,” she gasped. “Merinus Tyler. The National Forum. There will be people looking for me.”
“And what’s a pretty little journalist like yourself doing around here?” If it were possible, his voice became colder, crueler. “Maybe we should teach you where not to stick your pretty little nose, Ms. Tyler.”
Merinus had no warning, she had nothing to prepare her for the hand that shot out and hit her face with enough force to snap her head around and send stars shooting across her vision. As the world seemed to darken around her, she could have sworn she heard deep-throated growls and a vicious feline snarl echo
through the forest.
Merinus fell to the ground, dazed as she was suddenly released, the sound of her attackers’ hard soled boots thudding quickly away from her as several gunshots were fired. Bracing her hand on the rough gravel of the road, she fought desperately to scramble to the SUV. She had to get in the truck. The cell phone was there. She would call the sheriff, surely he knew enough about the area to find her.
“Easy.” Male hands supported her carefully, even as she shrank from the touch with a ragged cry. “It’s okay, come on, let’s hurry and get you in the truck and get you the hell out of here.”
Merinus felt the soft seat, fought to pull herself onto it despite the hands that lifted her tenderly, if quickly into it.
“Get started now.” The rough order was given from whoever jumped in next to her and slammed the door closed.
“What the hell is she doing out here anyway?” a female voice demanded as the motor of the truck fired up and the quick lurch and rough jerking of the vehicle signaled the speed the driver had pulled out with. Breathing easier now, Merinus raised her head and stared into the most electrifying, golden colored eyes she had ever seen. A gasp escaped her lips, and then to her profound humiliation and distress, she felt darkness closing slowly over her.
“I’m gonna faint…” Darkness closed over her, soft and inviting as she slumped against Callan’s chest.
* * * * *
“Shit.” Callan cradled her close to his chest with one arm while he braced himself with the other. He was still f**king shaking. He couldn’t help but clutch her against him, his cheek pressed against her head as he thanked God over and over that he had gotten to her in time. What the hell was she doing up there? There was nothing but broken cliffs and wilderness for miles in every direction. He knew she was desperate to find the track into his driveway, but surely she had enough sense to know it wasn’t up there.
“Hey, look at this.” Sherra extended a piece of paper to him as she fought to move the vehicle quickly down the mountain. “Where are we taking her? Your place or her room?”
“Her room.” Callan took the paper from her hand, glancing at the scribbled directions written on it.
“Where the hell did she get this?”
He met Sherra’s gaze in the rear view mirror.
“Looks like the boys are wanting to play, Callan,” she said softly. “They’ve seen you with her, know she’s searching for you.”
A tool. That’s all she had been to them. A means of taunting him, of taking something they thought he wanted. He hadn’t been careful enough. Somehow, he had let the bastards see his interest in her. He lifted her into his lap, holding her closer, absorbing the shock of the jeep bouncing over the rutted road to protect her from it. She was so light in his arms, her body delicate and small against his taller, broader
length.
He inhaled her scent, fighting to ignore the hard throb of his erection beneath his jeans, the desire to caress her skin with his lips. He contented himself with rubbing his cheek against the silk of her hair. A soft, peaches and cream scent lingered in it, as it did on her skin. Tempting him. He always had been partial to peaches in any form.
“Callan, what are you going to do?” Sherra pressed him.
Merinus was in danger now, they both knew it.
“Put Dayan on watch for her,” he told her. “She doesn’t know him. Tell him to stay as close as possible, just in case. Have him call me if trouble comes around her.”
“Trouble doesn’t have to find her, she finds it, evidently,” Sherra remarked. Callan smiled, his fingers rubbing over Merinus’ arm softly. She didn’t back down much, he had to give her that. She was stubborn as hell, but he didn’t consider that a good trait in this case.
“She still out of it?” Sherra asked worriedly.
“Yeah. So hurry and get to that damned motel before her nosy ass wakes up. We’ll be in for it good if you don’t.”
He could just imagine her pleasure, which wouldn’t be mutual, to find herself in his arms right now. Not to mention the damned questions that would come pouring out of her mouth. She was just waiting on the chance to lay into him, and he wasn’t too eager to give it to her. It was coming. He knew the only way to avoid her would be to leave the county again. Something he was going to do soon anyway to lure the damned soldiers away before they learned about the whole Pride. As far as the Council knew, the others had died in that damned explosion more than ten years ago. He wanted to keep it that way.
“Here we are.” Sherra pulled up to the motel room door swiftly. She grabbed Merinus’ purse, searched around then pulled the key from its depths.