Elizabeth's Wolf (Breeds 3)

“Jonsey, he has this pretty little nurse for a wife. She was hurt badly in that bombing. Lots of bleeding, in shock. I didn’t think she would make it.” He sighed. “I kept telling her how Jonsey was on his way. She loves that boy, Elizabeth. I guilted the hell out of her. She lived because she knew she had to. Knew if Jonsey saw her like that, all bloody and broken and dead too, that he wouldn’t survive it. They were married a year later. Took her that long to recover.”

“She sounds very strong.”

Dash nodded.

“Simon and those women.” He shook his head. “They’re like trouble waiting to happen. But they’re damned good at cleaning it out and celebrating later. The man has his own personal harem devoted to his pleasure and his happiness above all things. They’re dangerous as hell, and at any given time are ready to reward any man lucky enough to become deserving of their attention. But all Simon has to do is lift his finger and they’re back in his arms. They love that crazy cowboy more than he deserves sometimes.”

And on it went. Each man. Another adventure, another tale. He knew every facet of their personalities, what made them strong, what made them weak. What made them love or hate.

Elizabeth sat against him and not for the first time, marveled at the man who had walked so calmly into her life and took it over. The man who had given her his love before he ever met her. Who had dreamed about her as he lay in a medicated stupor and woke up because he saw her crying.

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth knew what love was. Not just his love for her, but his love for those men working to set up a usable camp and determined to fight by his side again. His friends.

Finally, he was quiet, watching as she was, holding her close as he grunted or chuckled at some action below them. Simon’s Ladies were, of course, helping. In ways that made Elizabeth blush a bright crimson. They were earthy, strong women. And Simon looked on like a proud parent as they tempted and teased the appetites of many of the men below. They steered well clear of Jonsey, though, and he made certain he steered clear of them.

“Time to get ready,” he finally sighed quietly. “We leave here tomorrow night, Elizabeth. Grange returns in a week. You sure you want to do this?”

Oh, she was damned sure.

“I’m sure, Dash,” she promised him quietly. “I miss Cassie. I want it done and my daughter safe. I want it over.”

“Come on then.” He moved to his feet and pulled her up beside him. “Let’s go whip these boys into shape. We’ll let Simon’s Ladies take care of their lusts and then we’ll start planning. We’ll get him, baby, and then we’ll go home.”

Chapter Thirty-One

A week later Elizabeth was being dragged roughly into the house that had been rented in the small town she had run from two years before. Dash had a manacled grip on her wrist, his body was vibrating with fury and she wasn’t any less pissed.

Behind them, Simon and his Ladies trailed more slowly, as did several others of the group that amassed together. The rest were at logistical points around the Grange estate or working with the two guards that had been bribed from Grange’s service. She and Dash had been slipping through town, testing the determination of the men Grange had in place to catch her.

His orders to her had been precise. She knew when she slipped from the shadowed alley to be certain Grange wasn’t in the car they had been watching that he would be pissed. That he would, in no uncertain terms, let her know how displeased he was. But she hadn’t expected this.

She had been so close. She had nearly been in the right position to check the identity of the two men when Dash had grabbed her, dragging her back into the alley and then to the car awaiting them on the other end. He had been chillingly silent, angrier than she had ever seen him.

“Dammit, Dash, stop dragging me around.” She tugged on his hold as he pulled her up the staircase.

She was fighting tooth and nail, but it was follow him or be dragged. She wasn’t in the mood to incur any more bruises along the way.

Dash was madder than she had ever seen him. Stone-cold enraged rather than growling mad. His expression was savage, his lips pulled back in a silent snarl as he glanced back at her, his golden eyes glowing with liquid fire. She was almost trembling in fear.

When he reached their b

edroom door, he opened it, jerked her inside and turned to close it with deadly silence. The snick of the lock turning caused her to flinch.

“I won’t be manhandled this way by you,” she charged him fiercely, trying to ignore the weakness in her knees as he faced her.

“Take your clothes off.”

“Why?” she snapped. “So you can show me my place? Under your body? I was safe, Dash.”

“You broke formation. You disobeyed orders. Do you know what I would have done to Jonsey, or Chase, or any of the others who so blatantly threatened not just the mission but also their own lives?”

His voice was deadly.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I was safe.”

“You were a fool. You were being tricked, Elizabeth. There was another vehicle pulling in no more than ten feet from you. You were nearly seen,” he told her quietly, the dark, harsh timber of his voice making her tremble.

“They wouldn’t have seen me,” she argued furiously. “I was being careful.”