She watched his eyes flare with… No, that wasn’t possession. She was losing her mind. Sleep deprivation and pain had brought her so low that she was seeing only what she knew she wanted to see. It wasn’t possible that a stranger could see her, feel possession, hunger and determination to the extent that she thought she had glimpsed in his gaze before it became shuttered.
For the first time in years Elizabeth felt her hormones flare to life. That look was almost physical. A caress. A statement of intent. She blinked and shook her head at the hallucination. No. He was just a big, good-looking man, and she was getting desperate. Desperate to find help. To know her daughter was protected. He was big enough to appear able to protect them both. But she knew by now that no one could protect them. It had been driven home forcibly time and time again. She lowered her head, watching Cassie once again as the little girl listlessly nibbled one of the fries from her plate. She had only taken a few bites of the hamburger, mostly because Elizabeth had forced her to.
“You have to eat, baby,” she whispered softly, fighting to hide her tears. “It’s okay now. I promise.”
“I’m tired, Momma.” Cassie dragged a fry through the ketchup now, but didn’t eat it. She was merely playing with it, and only halfheartedly at best.
“Eat, Cassie. And drink your milk.” She pushed the glass closer to the little girl, her heart breaking as Cassie raised her head, staring at her with bleak, horror-ridden eyes. Elizabeth had to fight to still her scream of outrage. No child should ever stare out of such shattered eyes.
“Dash will come tonight, Momma.” Tear-filled eyes stared back at her, so heartbreakingly sad that Elizabeth wanted to die rather than continue to face them.
“Baby…” How could she tell her? How could she explain that there was no way Dash Sinclair could even know they were alive, let alone that once again, their killers were only hours behind them?
The last attack wasn’t the worst event of their long months on the run, but it was one of the hardest. The men had been waiting on them. If Elizabeth hadn’t locked the basement door behind them and found the window so quickly, then they would have been dead. As it was, a bullet had grazed her thigh, and then she had sliced her waist on the jagged window. She was weak and hungry herself. But she was afraid if she spent more money on food tonight then there would be none to feed Cassie later. A movement from the man still standing by the door had her head lifting, a feeling of panic suddenly overwhelming her as his cool brown eyes met hers. His face was savagely honed. Perfectly angled for a warrior. Or maybe an assassin. Could Dane’s enemies have gotten tired of trying to do the job themselves?
On the heels of that thought, he began moving toward them. He didn’t just walk; he glided. Smooth powerful muscles rippled beneath the shirt and jeans, bringing him closer by the second. As he neared them, his arm moved, slowly reaching behind his back.
Elizabeth stiffened fearfully; ready to jump over the table to shield Cassie if a gun appeared. Dear God. What now? They were trapped. Unable to run. No place to hide. A grin tugged at the stranger’s lips, as though he could sense her thoughts. It wasn’t a gun he pulled out, though, but a wrinkled piece of paper. She watched, her heart in her chest, fear burning in her belly even as a strange, displaced desire warmed her thighs.
He stopped at the booth, staring down at her, then at Cassie. Elizabeth looked over at her daughter, seeing the rounded eyes, her pale cheeks.
“Cassie,” he murmured as he handed her the paper. “I got your letter.”
Elizabeth felt the world tilt as Cassie whispered his name. “Dash?”
It wasn’t possible, she told herself. This couldn’t be Dash Sinclair. He couldn’t have really found them. Couldn’t have even known they needed help. Yet, who else could he be?
He glanced at Elizabeth. “Have you eaten?”
She could only shake her head. Dear God. It couldn’t be. It was a trick. She picked up the letter from the table and unfolded it.
I know you have lots of other little girls to love. Momma says you must be married with children and don’t need us. But I need you Dash. Please help me and my Momma before the bad guys get us again. How had Cassie managed to post this letter without her knowing it? She stared at her daughter, barely able to process the fact that she was speaking to the stranger. A dangerous, cold-eyed stranger who claimed to be Cassie’s military penpal.
Cassie’s cheeks were flushed now. Hope radiated from her big blue eyes as shock was slowly displaced by happiness.
“You came, Dash.” Cassie threw herself into his big arms, her tiny body looking frail and helpless against the man’s chest, though his expression tightened with some undefined emotion as his arms contracted around her.
Dash Sinclair. She had loved that name herself, but had pushed it from her mind except for the few times Cassie had written the letters to the wounded soldier. That and when he had invaded her dreams. She hadn’t shared Cassie’s belief that one day Dash would come riding to their rescue, though. That one day he would protect them both. She was an adult. She didn’t believe in fairy tales, though she had fought to keep her daughter’s belief alive as long as possible.
“Eat, Cassie.” He sat Cassie back in her seat, pointing commandingly at the food. Surprisingly enough, a french fry disappeared into her mouth immediately. Then another. Despite Elizabeth’s thankfulness that her daughter was eating, she couldn’t halt a small streak of jealously. Cassie had refused to eat for her mother. Yet she was eating for a stranger.
“Mac,” he called out the name of the aging, rotund man behind the diner’s bar. “I need two cheeseburger platters, two milks.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No…” She knew one of those platters was for her.
“Thank you, Dash.” Cassie laid her head against his arm as she chewed tiredly at the hamburger.
“Momma was hungry. She didn’t eat yesterday, either. But I knew not to worry. I knew you would be here. I knew you would, Dash.”
Chapter Two
Dash barely stilled his rumbled growl as Cassie leaned against him. He lifted his arm, curving it around the frail shoulders, and stared back at her mother with a determination he prayed she was taking in. His possessiveness toward these two had grown only stronger, only deeper over the months he had been searching for them. With each miss, each added awareness of the danger they faced, his resolve had only hardened. As though the extra DNA he possessed inside his body was howling out for a claiming in a way that threw him off guard. He didn’t like being thrown off guard. But he found himself accepting the responsibility of these two so naturally, that he often didn’t think to question it. He could sense Elizabeth’s strength. It was there in her squared shoulders, the glint of battle in her weary blue eyes. She didn’t trust him and she sure as hell didn’t believe he was who he said he was. But he had expected that. Expected her to give him a fight. He had known she wouldn’t be easy to conquer. He didn’t want her to be easy, though, Dash realized. She was a strong woman and his dominating instincts would run roughshod over any woman who wasn’t. She would have to learn how to stand up to him, when to push back and when to allow him to shoulder her weight. She would have to learn how to share the burdens rather than carry them on her fragile shoulders as she was used to. Careful of the little head tucked against his chest now, Dash reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet free. Opening it, he laid it between them. It had his driver’s license in one clear pocket, his service ID in the other, both easy to see.