Darius could have killed her anytime he wanted. He could have used her for food, if that was what these creatures did. But he hadn’t done either. He had come after her when she was in trouble. He had treated her gently and compassionately. And he had tenderly attempted to heal her bruised body and take away the worst of her memories. The cost had not been small to him. Darius wanted her. She had felt the burning heat in him. She had been all but helpless, yet he hadn’t acted on the demands of his body. She had felt his enormous energy drain out of him and into her while he was healing her. He had been extremely tired after using his great strength to ease her suffering, and she had even felt a gnawing, biting, insatiable hunger, his mind merging with hers until she was uncertain where her feelings left off and his began.
She sighed and pushed at the hair falling loose from the thick braid he had woven. No one ever had treated her as Darius had. He was kind and thoughtful, even tender, but for all that he wasn’t an easy man to be around. Especially when she was so used to being on her own. His arrogance, his complete confidence in himself and his abilities, had a tendency to set her teeth on edge. Obviously he was accustomed to deference to his every wish. She was accustomed to being utterly independent. She bit at her lip, her teeth scraping back and forth as she thought it out.
Darius wasn’t just arrogantly expecting obedience from her. It was far more than that. Hard possession lit the depths of his eyes, gave them a burning intensity, revealing a hunger only for her. “No, way, Rusti,” she whispered aloud to herself. “That maniac is used to protecting and controlling everyone around him, so don’t let your hormones start running away with you. And vampires are out of the question. You didn’t want to get together with the neighborhood pimp; I don’t think this is a much better choice. You have to leave. Vamoose. Run. Get out.”
Yet she knew she was going to stay. Emitting a little groan, she covered her face with her hands. She had no money, no family, no home. Maybe if Darius slept during the day, and she slept all night, they would get along fine. She peeked out between her fingers. “As if I believe that will happen. That man wants to rule the world. His own private empire.” She wrinkled her nose and mimicked his voice, “‘My domain, Tempest.’ Remember that he rules everything and everyone in his domain,” she told herself.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was three in the afternoon. If she was going to get the other vehicles running and earn her keep, she would have to do it soon.
Groaning aloud as her muscles protested, she slid out from under the blanket and made her way to the bathroom. The shower felt good on her aching body and helped to clear away the cobwebs in her mind. As always she swept her hair up out of the way and dressed in a T-shirt and blue jeans, pulling on overalls to keep them semi-clean while she worked.
She was surprised to find the refrigerator fully stocked with fresh vegetables and fruits. She also spotted various breads and pasta. Somehow she knew Darius was responsible for the supplies.
Having learned at an early age to improvise meals, she made an artichoke and mushroom sauce to put over pasta and ate leisurely though sparingly, her stomach still upset from the previous days’ events. Finally she cleaned up and went out to take a look at the troupe’s car, truck, and motor home.
The afternoon sun was sinking, but it was hot and humid even under the canopy of trees where she was working. Still, she enjoyed the peace of the woods. A slight breeze came up about an hour after she began work, which relieved her discomfort a bit. For the most part, she was so focused on what she was doing, she didn’t think of anything else. She finished her adjustments to the motor home by five o’clock and took a short break to drink some cool water and check on the cats.
The red sports car basically needed only a tune-up, and since the group seemed to carry a small-parts department with them, she was able to find what she needed easily. Tempest rather enjoyed working on the little car and was satisfied when it purred at her as she started it up. She took it up the winding ribbon of a road, putting it through several gear changes, driving as if on a race track. A few miles from the camp she pulled over to adjust the timing.
She was standing over the engine, listening to it, when the first wave of uneasiness washed over her. Keeping her head beneath the gaping hood, she lifted her eyes and searched the area around her. Someone was watching her. She knew it. She had no idea where her heightened awareness came from, but she was positive she was right.
Tempest?
The voice was, as always, calm and tranquil. But Darius sounded far away.
Tempest, what is it?
Her fingers clenched around the small instrument in her hand. They weren’t going to play pretend with one another anymore. They couldn’t pass this off as a dream.
Someone is watching me,
she responded.
It feels...
She paused, searching for the correct word to describe her uneasiness. When none came, she did what she did with the animals: She sent an impression of her emotion.
A small silence ensued as Darius evaluated the information. He troubles
me also. You are not within the perimeter I set. Did you not feel the wrenching when you passed through it?
Rusti frowned.
You set perimeters for me? What does that mean? You have a set distance I’m allowed to travel?
She was outraged, forgetting for a moment her unwanted watcher.
Do not give me trouble, honey. Just do what I say.
There was a hint of amused exasperation in his tone. I
knew you were trouble the
minute I
laid eyes on you. Make a slow visual sweep of the surrounding area. Very slow. Really look. I will, see what you see.
Rusti did as he ordered because she was curious to see what might happen. Her eyesight was good, her senses alert, yet she did not discover what was unsettling her.
It was a strange feeling to share her mind and eyes with another being. She wished she’d brought the cats with her.
It’s too late to show good sense now, Tempest. You shouldhave stayed where you were, out of harm’s way, as you were supposed to do. There is a man with a pair of binoculars watching from the small wooded area to your left. I can make out the bumper of his car.
Tempest felt her heart thud in alarm.
There is no reason to fear him. I am with you now. It would be impossible for him to hurt you. But what if he approaches me? I know you are far away. I feel it.
Darius sent her a wave of reassurance, pouring warmth and strength into her. He would never allow another male to treat her as Harry the attacker had. Never again. He meant it. A vow to himself. A vow to her. Rusti swore she could feel him wrap a protective arm around her. She didn’t stop to think that it might not be good idea to lean so heavily on his strength when she was bound to resent his dominating ways. She allowed herself to breathe again, allowed her heart to slow back to normal.
Keep working, honey. He is about to make his approach. Just act normal. I will know if you need my intervention.
She took a deep breath, let the air out slowly, and bent once more to fine-tune her adjustment. She forced herself not to look up until she heard the man’s car. The Mustang was pale blue and the engine super hot. She could tell by listening to it.
Closing the hood, she greeted the visitor. “Wow. That thing can go, can’t it?”