She was so tired. How long had it been since she had slept? Since she had felt safe enough to close her eyes and allow just a few hours of deep escape? Not since the night she had arrived at her ex-husband’s to check on Cassie and heard the sounds of gunshots.

She flinched, opening her eyes and staring desperately out the windshield. Would she always see it? The view from the window of her husband’s lakefront house. Cassie struggling in Terrance Grange’s hold as he aimed a gun and delivered yet another round in Dane’s body. He had laughed when Cassie screamed out her daddy’s name. His evil, scarred face had held lustful intent as he stared at her baby. A baby. She shuddered, holding back the rage, bottling it inside her to keep from screaming out in fury.

She was silent, though she was aware of Dash glancing at her several times. Elizabeth jumped when he moved easily, then breathed out a strangled sigh when he turned the radio on. Soothing, soft music filled the interior of the Hummer, wrapping around her, lulling her back into that near sleep existence she always feared.

“Sleep, Elizabeth,” he whispered soothingly. “I’ll wake you when we arrive at the ranch. I promise you. You and Cassie are both safe.”

Safe. Cassie was safe. For now. That was all that mattered.

“We have to hide her,” she sighed, breathing out deeply as her head rested against the back of the seat, her eyes finally closing. “He can’t touch her, Dash. I can’t let him touch her…”

Chapter Four

It was daybreak before Dash pulled into the back of the small motel just across the Kansas-Missouri border. He was dead tired and the snow had gotten hazardous hours before. There was no way he was about to make the trek to Mike’s ranch until he had a chance to rest. Until he had a chance to get a break from the intriguing scent of woman, shy arousal and sleep flushed skin. Damn, she had been pretty, slouched in the seat beside him, her head often resting on the wide console between them. Once, he had dared to touch the silk of her hair, sliding his fingers through it and feeling the curls cupping his fingers. She had the softest hair he had ever known, with surprisingly thick curls spiraling down her back. Hair that made a man think of sex, wild and sweet. But overshadowing the lust was the need to protect.

He wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her close to his chest and assure her she was safe. Promise her they would protect Cassie. Together. Swear the earth and moon if it would ease the haunting shadows he had seen in her eyes. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t make the promises even if she would accept them. The chances of failure, at the moment, were too high. All he could do was fight with every weapon he knew to assure their safety. He was confident he had enough fight to do it. But first, they all needed to sleep. To rest, at least for today.

Thankfully, there had been a drive-through open in the heart of town serving hot food. A quick stop and he had enough to feed himself, the woman and child. They had both slept as he ordered and collected the food. Next, he had stopped and gassed up the Hummer, careful to take the keys out of the ignition as he stood at the gas pump. He wouldn’t put it past her to take off and run again. Hell, it was what he would have done in her place.

When he got back in the vehicle, Cassie was still sleeping, but her mother was awake. Not exactly aware—she hadn’t managed more than two hours restless sleep—but she was awake. He kept the coffee he had purchased hidden in the sacks from the drive-through in the back until he pulled into the motel, checked in and then drove to their assigned room. It was far enough from the main road that it hid the Hummer and gave Dash enough confidence that he would hear another vehicle if it pulled in. Not that many others would be able to navigate the slight incline that led to the back rooms. He didn’t waste time with words. He wanted the comfort of the room, the news, and a handy telephone. The cell wasn’t exactly dependable in this weather. Getting out of the Hummer he moved around the vehicle to the passenger side, opened the door and lifted Cassie from the seat as Elizabeth moved stiffly into frigid air. The snow went halfway up her legs but she never showed the obvious discomfort. She trudged behind him, just as silent as he was, as he made a path to the door. He swiped the card, opened it carefully and then stepped inside. Turning, he watched the slowly lightening day as Elizabeth moved quickly past him. It was still dark out and forecasters were expecting the storm to go on through the day. Hell, they all needed time to rest anyway before heading to Mike’s madhouse. Elizabeth was flipping lights on as he closed the door and walked to the farthest bed. He laid Cassie down on it slowly, pulling the blanket over her as her mother moved to her. Elizabeth had a damp cloth in her hand. She used it to quickly clean Cassie’s sleep-flushed cheeks, her small hands. A smile tugged at his lips at the motherly response.

She slipped Cassie’s shoes off, then lifted her gently and pulled the blankets over her. It was all done very efficiently, very economically. Dash shook his head, turning away from the sight. He didn’t understand mothers. But hell, he’d never had one. He had turned out fine, hadn’t he?

Then he thought of Cassie. He stopped at the end of the bed and turned back. He had survived because he was tough. Hard. Damn, he didn’t want her that way. He wanted to see the sweet, charming little girl who had saved his life with her letters. He wanted to see her smile, see her secure. Mothered.

He shook his head as he turned and stalked back to the door and into the storm. He had clothes and supplies for the mother and child. Things they would need. He had been hauling the damned things around for months, the minute he had realized that each time they were found they were forced to leave damned near everything they owned except the clothes on their backs. Minutes later he reentered the room, instantly finding Elizabeth in a defensive position in front of Cassie as the door opened. He set the large tote he carried on the floor then went back out. When he returned with his own bag and the food and coffee, she was sitting at the end of Cassie’s bed, watching the door.

“There are gowns, clothes and stuff in the tote.” He set the fast food bags on the small table. “I’ve bought stuff here and there as I realized everything was being destroyed from place to place. You should have everything you need.”

He saw her startled look as she glanced at the hard plastic container.

“I need a fast shower.” He pulled his service revolver from the personal bag he carried on his shoulder.

“If anyone comes to the door, let me know. Otherwise, there’s food and coffee in the bag. Plenty enough for everyone.”

He didn’t expect a response. He didn’t get one. She just stared up at him with those big sad eyes, so much like Cassie’s, as though she couldn’t decide if she were still dreaming or awake. Dash ached to hold her. He couldn’t stop the need, so he didn’t fight it building in his body, but he kept his arms, his thoughts, and his needs to himself. He had a lot of practice at that. Knew just how it was done. Control. That was all it took. But those shell-shocked eyes did something to him that made his guts tremble with an ache so unfamiliar, so imperative, it was damned hard to fight. Her eyes went to the gun as he stood there. An uncontrollable flare of fear flashed in her gaze. He couldn’t blame her for it. But he hated it.

“I’ll be out in a bit.” He had to get away from her. If he didn’t, he was going to touch her. If he touched her, stopping would be hell. And he would have to stop. Now was not the time or the place. He turned the television on as he passed it—the steady noise would keep her nerves calm, he hoped—then moved into the bathroom. If he didn’t get a shower and settle his own libido down, he was going to go stark raving mad. His cock was waging a constant war with his head. It was hard, aching, needing her. Just a taste of her.

Damn, the woman’s scent had been like a call to arms to his dick. It hadn’t relaxed in the miserable hours of being confined in the Hummer with her. It was still steel-hard and insistent. Not exactly a condition he found any comfort in. It wasn’t as though Elizabeth was even in any shape to realize it. And if she did, it was the wrong place and the wrong time. First, came Cassie’s safety. Then he could claim the mother.

He shook his head as he entered the small bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving it unsecured. He stared down at the lock and sighed wearily. Building trust was a bitch.

* * * * *

Elizabeth opened the lid to the tote slowly, sinking to her knees and staring down at the contents in

surprise. The clothes were all new. Some designer labels, some not. All were functional and would be easily cleaned, a must for an eight-year-old child. Stacked within the tote were clothes for her as well. She flushed as she pulled a pair of lacy thongs from the neatly folded contents. They were her size, but so delicate and sexy she would have blushed to wear them.

There were nightgowns and robes for her and Cassie, socks and dependable shoes still in their boxes. She pulled a dark blue, little girl’s gown free. It was long, cotton, with long sleeves and a lacy collar. There was a robe to match it. Several packages of little girl’s panties and socks, unopened. Next, she pulled one of the gowns and robes he had bought for her out. A smile tugged at her lips. It was flannel and long, with a robe to match. Something to keep her warm. With it was a pair of thick, padded socks. Had the man forgotten anything?

She shook her head in confusion, wondering when reality had ceased to exist. From one minute to the next she had gone from pure terror to a sense of tentative hope. Surely if he was going to turn her and Cassie over to Grange, he would have done so by now.

But could she really trust her own instincts? She rose to her feet, hearing the water cascading in the other room. Elizabeth swallowed tightly. God, she wanted to trust him, but fear was like a demon riding her mercilessly. The gun and the Hummer would get her closer to her own destination. She looked at the clothes again, touched the soft gowns and wanted to scream out in fury. She couldn’t trust, no matter how desperately she wanted to. No matter how her soul screamed out in protest, she had to get Cassie away from this new, possibly unknown threat. The sound of the shower was loud, the pipes groaning. She hadn’t heard the lock click in place and she was desperate. She stood and moved for the door.

Stilling the tremors of exhaustion and nerves that wanted to shudder through her body wasn’t easy. She hated the thought of betraying the only person left to stand between her and her enemies, but she couldn’t bear the thought that she was wrong once again, either.

As she neared the bathroom door, she thought of the others she had trusted. Admittedly, there hadn’t been many. There was the police investigator in Arizona. She hoped he was living well on the little payoff he must have taken to reveal her location. On the other hand, she remembered too well the news report of the death of the auto mechanic who had helped her escape after repairing her car. He was dead. Because of her.

Her hand gripped the doorknob, turning it slowly, quietly. He couldn’t take the gun into the shower with him; it would have to be lying within reach. She inched the door open, slowly, carefully…

Dash leaned his head against the wall of the shower stall, grimacing almost painfully. Don’t, baby. Please don’t. The words whispered through his mind as Elizabeth’s scent stirred the air around him. Even his balls tightened at the smell. Female, sensually warm, determined, frightened. Her fear made his heart ache. Her warmth made his cock jerk demandingly. There was nothing about her that didn’t make him hot and hungry.

Steam collected in misty tendrils, wrapping the smell of her around his senses, driving a bolt of hunger through the pit of his stomach straight to his throbbing erection. He could see her in his mind’s eye, focused, steeling herself against her fear as she moved into the small room. Trust was essential, he reminded himself firmly. She had to know he could protect them, that he would protect them. She had to know he was strong enough, confident enough, to even stop her if he had to. But once he confronted her, would he have the strength not to touch her?