Sherra stood behind him, her amusement wiped away by the sound of his voice, the tension filling him. It wasn’t sexual, it was exhausted.

Callan stared around the area, watching as the wounded were quickly loaded to the backs of the jeeps for transportation back to the clinic.

“Blow them,” Callan gave the order, his voice low, throbbing with anger. “They’re not worth trying to keep considering the risk.”

Sherra watched as Kane breathed in roughly, shaking his head as he stared to his side, watching the Breeds clear the area as Jonas began inspecting the now-sealed entrance. Kane’s shoulders were tense, tight, as he shrugged them with an appearance of weariness. She gave Callan a narrow-eyed look. He stared back at her for long moments before his gaze flickered back to Kane.

“Let’s head back.” He pushed his fingers through his thick fall of hair, breathing out in irritation. “We’re expecting more information in on the Purist group rumored to be gathering. Alexandria and I want to be there when the report comes in. And you and Sherra, neither one look in peak condition. Have you two forgotten how to fucking sleep?”

Kane glanced back at Sherra, his eyes dark, concerned. She barely kept from rolling her eyes.

“I am tired,” she finally admitted, breaking the contact as she stared back at her brother. “This shit is getting to me, Callan. We have to do something.”

“Agreed,” Callan grunted. “When you find an answer be sure to let me know, because I’ll be damned if I’ve come up with one yet. By the way, they released our friendly neighborhood missile launcher this morning. Some pansy-assed judge dropped the charges slick as you please.”

Sherra closed her eyes, hearing Kane’s vicious curse at this news.

“Joy, joy,” she murmured. “Next one, I’ll just kill and get it over with.” She wasn’t joking.

“I’ll help you hide the body.” The cold smile twisting Kane’s lips was almost scary to see. But what worried her more was the pale cast to his sun-darkened features.

“Come on, stud.” She moved to his side, butting against his arm as she let her own weariness show on her face. Something she abhorred. “I don’t know about you, but a shower is definitely called for, and a nap.”

His arm went around her waist instantly, his hand cupping her hip as he dragged her against his chest, the muscles tight as he held her to him.

“I’m going to paddle your ass for being in that damned cave,” he suddenly snapped, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed fury.

She did roll her eyes, seeing more than just his anger. She hated seeing the emotions that tore at him, blazing in his eyes, in the tight features of his face. It reminded her forcefully of the ties they shared, the pain he had suffered because of her, for her. And that reminder had the power to weaken her as nothing else did.

The gentle aura of the morning had faded with the danger surrounding them once again, but nothing could extinguish her need for him. She could excuse them on lust all she wanted to, but at her weakest moments, such as now, she knew the truth. Loving him was killing her. Not because she couldn’t have him—she could, she did. But the past was a cruel specter that haunted her, snatching sleep from her, terrifying her with the weaknesses she knew she possessed. Weaknesses she couldn’t let him see, couldn’t let him know.

“Come on, Kane, let’s go home,” she sighed, moving slowly from him, her body dragging, exhaustion pulling at her as she headed for her jeep. She needed to sleep, just once, without arousal destroying her, or memories tormenting her. Just once.

* * * * *

Kane could feel his flesh sensitizing in ways he had never expected. He couldn’t understand it, couldn’t explain it. He paced outside Sherra’s bathroom after their return to the compound, running his hand over his hair as he fought the insane compulsion to storm into her shower and take her where she stood. He needed his cock buried inside her heat, and he needed it now. He shook his head. Even after that first kiss it hadn’t been like this. This was consuming, an urgent compulsion, a desire unlike anything he had known to this point. He tried to explain the sensation away on the fact that they had nearly died in those damned caves earlier, but there was no logic in that. There was no way to explain the sudden surge of lust that burned brighter, hotter than anything he had ever known before this point.

God help them both if she had any intentions of refusing him, because he didn’t think he could leave her. He knew he couldn’t deny the hunger for her. He could taste her on his tongue, craved the feel of her against his flesh.

He shrugged his broad, bare shoulders, the caress of the air generated against his flesh had him flinching

at the sensation. Dammit, a man shouldn’t be that sensitive.

The shower shut off and he tensed in preparation. He could imagine her—her flesh all slick and wet, creamy and pink and more tempting than anything he knew. He still remembered the feel of her in that cave. Her kiss had tasted more delicate, the spice of the hormone filling his senses as he fought to keep some measure of sanity.

His cock had still been hard when he pulled from her. Even after spilling himself inside her with a violence he hadn’t known a man was capable of, he still needed more of her. He turned away from the bathroom door, pacing the floor, trying to make sense of his emotions and the strange feelings moving through him. He wanted so much. Things he had never thought of before, never considered.

Damn, he loved her. That was the one thing that had always been a constant in his life, but he was starting to feel as though the mating heat and the sex alone was all that bound them. And that was the crux of the matter.

He winced at the knowledge. He had lived to avenge her all these years, had fought to find justice for the woman he thought he had lost, only to feel his world brighten once again when he found her. He hadn’t allowed his confidence to be dented by her anger or feigned hatred. He hadn’t let her resentment sway him. She belonged to him, heart and soul.

“Damn.” He sat down on the chair in the corner of the room and braced his elbows on his knees as he covered his face with his hands. Why hadn’t he noticed this before? Why hadn’t he seen what was happening?

“I warned you there was little satisfaction to be had, Kane.” Sherra stood in the doorway, a towel covering her lithe body, her long hair damp and framing her somber face. He grimaced at the words, giving his head a quick jerk as he stared back at her and for the first time, he saw her. Her shoulders were tightened defensively, her eyes wary, always watching.

“Is the heat easing for you?” he asked her.

She shrugged negligently. “It’s in its last phases.”

“Have you seen the doc?” He knew she hadn’t.

“Not yet. I’ll go in the morning,” she assured him, faint confusion showing in her expression.

“You told Taber you’d go in tonight,” he reminded her. “I’ll be waiting on you in the doctor’s office in the morning.”

He rose to his feet, suddenly tired. Despite the hard-on making him crazy and the hunger eating away at his soul, he felt old. Shaking his head, he moved to the door and opened it slowly.

“Kane?” He paused, keeping his back to her, knowing if he looked at her he would go to her, touch her, take her. And once again the truth would eat him alive.

“Yeah, babe?” He kept his voice soft, hoping to hide the regret.

“You aren’t staying?” she asked, her tone equally soft, though confused. He drew in a deep, hard breath.

“Not tonight, Sherra. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

The silence behind him was louder than fury could have been. He tapped his fist against the doorframe as he kicked himself. Damn, he’d made more of a mess of this than he had the first time around.

“Night, Sherra.” He left her bedroom, ignoring his arousal, the pain slicing through his chest, and realized that perhaps the love he had seen in her so long ago truly had died. God he was fucking tired. He hung around this damned compound like a puppy nipping at her heels demanding her affection. It was senseless and was beginning to grate on his pride daily. He hadn’t betrayed her, he hadn’t left her in that hellhole deliberately. If he had things to do over, he would have never left her there while he went for help, he would have taken her, despite the risks. But the past couldn’t be undone.

She blamed him for the loss of the baby. Hell, he couldn’t blame her, he blamed himself, even though he had been unaware of the conception. That loss haunted him as few other things could. His child. His and Sherra’s.

He shook his head as he entered his bedroom. Sitting on his bed he pulled his boots from his feet, then rose to shed his clothes before lying back on the bed. His fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking over it slowly as his eyes closed and imagined her, touching him. A grim smile tugged at his lips. Her hands were softer than silk, warmer than fire. She could bring him to his knees with a smile, make his heart and his dick swell with no more than a look from those gorgeous green cat’s eyes. And her body. His groan was low, hungry. Her body made him sweat with lust. All sweet curves and satiny warmth that beckoned and drove a man mad with the need to fuck. His fingers quickened on his erection as his mind filled in the blanks. Syrup-sweet juices coated her soft pussy, hard nipples topping firm breasts as his tongue stroked them, sucked them into his mouth. His fingers dipping into her cunt, hearing her hot little moans in the air around them as he fucked her easily, pushing into her, feeling her stretch around him as she cried out her need. His balls tightened, his thighs bunching as a low growl left his lips and his semen spurted from his cock. It eased the ache, left him gasping, still hungry, but he prayed, relaxed enough to sleep. He rolled over, burying his head in his pillow and tried to ignore the fact that once again, he slept alone.

Sherra stared at the door in bemusement. What the hell had happened? Had he cracked his head during the explosion? And what the hell did he mean that she knew where to find him? Since when did he expect her to find him? He had been on her ass since finding her in Sandy Hook, never letting up and damned sure never giving up.

She propped her hands on her hips, more confused now than she ever had been. She had smelled his arousal, hotter, more demanding than it had ever been. And he had just walked away. She turned from him. Pulling the towel from her body, she threw it into the bathroom before dressing in a

long caftan and quietly leaving her room. She padded downstairs, drawn by Callan and Merinus’ voices in the kitchen and a need for advice.

Advice wasn’t something she usually looked for. She had tried, over the years, to burden Callan the least amount possible with her own problems, knowing that the protection of the Pride was more important.

“Hi, Sherra, I thought you had retired for the night.” Merinus smiled as she sipped a glass of cold milk. Sherra watched her with a faint grin.

“I see you found the Oreos Kane sneaked in for Cassie.”

Merinus grinned in conspiracy. “I knew he would do it. Kane’s kept me in cookies all my life.”

Sherra frowned at that as she looked at Callan. “Why don’t you buy her cookies? You’re not exactly a pauper, you know.”

Callan grinned as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers playing with his wife’s hair as he watched his sister.

“It pleases him to provide them and allows him to retain a feeling of possessiveness. Why would I take that from him? Kane’s protected her all her life, cared for her, even now. I don’t have a problem with the cookies.” Callan shrugged carelessly.

Sherra looked at her brother oddly.

“But she’s your wife,” she stressed. “Your responsibility.”

Callan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment. He was her beloved older brother, but she could see where Merinus had been unable to refuse the story once she saw his picture. He was exceptionally handsome in a rough sort of way. High cheekbones, a narrow, savage face. Sensual lips. He had the Lion’s cast to his face, but it didn’t detract from his looks in the least.