She’d all but begged him to ease the desire that had been on a slow simmer for the past six weeks.
And if she were honest, she’d admit that her treacherous body was ready and eager to repeat the performance.
Which was precisely why she needed to get the hell away from the disturbing man.
No…not man.
Pantera.
Beast.
Absently she reached over her shoulder to touch the scratches that had seemed to shock Bayon. They didn’t hurt. In fact, they tingled with a pleasure that was as disturbing as the implication that Raphael had deliberately marked her.
Yeah. She was in dire need of some space to clear her head.
Crossing to where they’d first entered the room, she placed a cautious hand on the silver doorknob.
She didn’t know what she’d expected.
Ringing alarms. A trap door opening to drop her into a pit of alligators. An electric shock.
Something to prevent her from leaving the private rooms.
But stepping into the back storage area, there was nothing to break the silence beyond the thundering beat of her heart.
Still, she remained on edge as she tiptoed to the outer door. It was quite possible a silent alarm had been activated. Or that there would be guards outside that she hadn’t noticed when she’d first arrived with Raphael.
And, of course, there was the mysterious danger that Raphael insisted was stalking him.
Until she was far enough away from the bizarre creatures she would have to take extra care.
Surprised yet again when the door opened easily, Ashe crouched low as she darted down the steep staircase, and headed directly toward the cars that lined the narrow street.
She shivered, feeling a strange chill of premonition. As if unseen eyes were following her every movement.
Damn. She needed to get back to the hotel.
She was going to get dressed, get her car keys and head out of this town as fast as possible.
After that…
Well, she’d worry about that once she was far, far away.
Pausing to tuck the sheet tighter around her body, Ashe sucked in a deep breath and gathered her shaken courage.
She’d endured a childhood of neglect interspersed with episodes of terrifying violence from a mother who’d never loved her. She’d been humiliated and bullied throughout school. She’d been forced to work as a secretary for a bastard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, just to keep a roof over her head.
She had truly discovered the meaning behind ‘what didn’t kill you only makes you stronger’.”
Now she stiffened her spine and gave one last glare toward the shabby bar that glowed in the neon lights.
“Behave myself?” she muttered. “Not in this lifetime.”
Kicking the folds of the sheet away from her bare feet, she turned to gaze at the untamed edge of the swamp across the street. She had no genuine desire to wade through the muck, not to mention risking the endless dangers that haunted the bayous. But she couldn’t walk down the streets in a sheet without attracting unwanted attention, not even in this podunk town.
She would have to skirt the swamps until she was closer to the hotel.
The decision made, she dashed across the road, grimacing as the gravel dug into the soles of her feet. God almighty. Would this night ever end?
The thought had barely formed when a strange buzzing flew past her ear. She waved an impatient hand, assuming it was one of the humongous bugs that filled the night air.
Some grew to the size of small birds.
It wasn’t until there was an audible thwack in a cypress tree just behind her that she turned her head to stare at the arrow stuck in the trunk.
She stumbled to a baffled halt.
It wasn’t that unusual for the locals to hunt with bow and arrow.
Some preferred following in the traditions of their forefathers. Some preferred the challenge of hunting old-school. And some just didn’t have the money to buy a gun.
But who would be out hunting this time of night?
And why would they be so close to town?
Stupidly, it wasn’t until the second arrow clipped the top of her shoulder as it whizzed past that she accepted that she was the prey, not some hapless rabbit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She hadn’t thought Raphael’s buddies would actually try to kill her.
Unless it wasn’t his friends, but his supposed enemies?
But why would they shoot at her?
Not that the who, what or where mattered at the moment.
With a muffled cry she darted toward the nearest clump of bushes, kneeling down to peer through the thick branches.
It was too dark to see more than vague outlines of shapes. She thought she could see something running along the roof of the closed lumberyard, and…was that someone creeping between those trucks?
Oh god.
For a crazed second, panic threatened to overwhelm her.
She had no phone, no clothes, no weapons that could help protect her.
Worse, she didn’t know if a scream would bring help or more danger.
Then her hand unconsciously slid to her stomach, a protective burst of determination stiffening her spine.
Dammit, she wasn’t going to wait here like a sitting duck.
She had a child to protect, which meant she had to get away.
Wrapping the bottom of the sheet around her arm so it was above her knees, she scooted backward. If she could reach the actual bayou she had a chance of shaking the bastards.
She ignored the sound of approaching footsteps, and the strange smell that made her nose curl in disgust. Her only hope of survival was slipping away before her stalker could pinpoint her precise location.
Concentrating on backing away as silently as possible, Ashe froze when a low, enraged snarl reverberated through the air.
It was the sort of full-throated roar that caused a terrified hush to spread through the area.
A feral predator on the hunt.
Barely daring to breathe, Ashe listened as she heard a muttered curse from just beyond the bush and the sound of rustling, followed by the unmistakable click of a gun. Either the person wasn’t the same psycho Robin Hood who’d been flinging arrows in her direction, or he’d decided that approaching danger was worth pulling out the big guns.
Literally.
But, even as she prepared herself for the deafening blast of the gunshot, there was another snarl and a blood-chilling scream that she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt would haunt her dreams for nights to come.
Barely realizing she was moving, Ashe straightened to peer over the top of the bush. It wasn’t so much a desire to see what was happening. Hell, no. She had a hideous suspicion it was going to be awful. But she needed to make sure the stalker was too busy fighting off the rabid animal to notice her escape.
She needn’t have worried.
The man who’d been standing by the bush wasn’t going to be firing arrows at her or anyone else.
Paralyzed, Ashe’s gaze roamed over the man who was now sprawled on the ground, his throat ripped out and his face mangled. His dead eyes stared sightlessly at the star-studded sky, his arms flung wide with a gun in one hand and his empty bow in the other.
She gagged, a hand pressed to her mouth as her stomach threatened to revolt against the grisly sight.
She’d never seen a dead man before.
Especially not one who had been mauled by a wild animal.
Then her shattered disbelief was distracted as a sleek form detached from the shadows, gliding toward her with an uncanny silence.
“No,” she breathed, taking in the sight of the large cat in stunned amazement.
The color of rich caramel, the fur was thick and glossy in the moonlight. The broad head had small rounded ears and large golden eyes that studied her with an unnerving intensity. His body was chiseled muscle with long legs and a tail that was tipped with black.