“Did you know Fredrickson worked for Whitney?”

Don pressed his lips together in disapproval, refusing to speak.

Sharon shook her head. “We were so shocked. Whitney is a madman, and he’s been attaching himself to our family for years. We hired Fredrickson because Whitney began to scare us—well, scare me. I was afraid of him, and I didn’t understand what he wanted from Tansy. He arranged our adoption, and at first I was so grateful, but even when she was little, Tansy didn’t like him, and I wanted her to see another doctor for her . . . disorder.” She glanced at her daughter in apology, but Tansy was looking at her father with open shock on her face.

“Why didn’t you get another doctor for her?” Kadan asked quietly.

“That’s none of your business!” Don roared. “Sharon. I forbid this. Our private life has nothing to do with these people. You’re exhausted and scared. There’s no need to continue this discussion right this moment.” He looked at Kadan, openly challenging him. “Is there? Your men look like they could use a shower and a good night’s sleep. You’ve got blood all over you. I suggest we take this up in the morning.”

He wants the chance to talk to Mom alone and tell her not to say anything to you—or to me. He hired Fredrickson when Mom was so scared for us. He had to have known all along Fredrickson worked for Whitney.

There was quiet acceptance in Tansy’s voice and that hurt more than tears. She didn’t need to hear anymore.

Kadan shrugged. “Good enough. We have a room ready for you. The place is well guarded, Mrs. Meadows, and we’ve got alarms on all the doors and windows. The phones aren’t working at the moment, but we have plenty of food if you get hungry. One of my men will be around, just ask him to show you whatever you need.” He took Tansy’s hand and tugged. “We’ll say good night now.”

She didn’t look at either of her parents, but went with him without a word.

Chapter 12

Kadan padded on bare feet out of the bathroom to the bedroom, rubbing his hair with a towel, another slung loosely around his waist. Tansy hadn’t said much, other than to order him to go take a shower, once they’d gone to the master bedroom. He wasn’t certain what he was going to say to her, or how he would reply when she asked him what he intended to do about her father. He had no acceptable answer to give her.

He stopped dead when he entered the bedroom. The room was lit with low, flickering candles and smelled like heaven. Tansy sat on the bed naked, only her long hair covering her golden expanse of creamy skin. She looked sexy, a fantasy creature, lifting her eyes to his even as she rolled a bottle of oil between her hands to warm it.

“Where did you get all this?” He wasn’t even certain that was his voice, husky and low and already groaning with desire.

“I have my secrets.”

She flashed a mysterious smile, tipping her head to one side, her hair sliding over her one shoulder and down her back to pool on the soft sheets. Her br**sts gleamed invitingly in the candlelight, her ni**les already tight, tempting him to devour her.

“Come here.” She patted the bed. “I want you to lie down on your stomach.”

He opened his mouth to protest; lying down wasn’t what he had in mind, but there was something so secretive, so sensual in her expression, he lost his voice. He tossed the loose towel aside and shed the one around his waist, his shaft already growing hard in anticipation. He’d treated the small abrasions and lacerations over his body, but there was little he could do for the bruising. He just hoped she wouldn’t notice too much in the soft light. He stretched out facedown and cradled his head on his hands, eyes open to watch her every move.

Tansy leaned over him, her long hair brushing seductively over his back and sides. The feel of the silky strands sliding over his bare skin had his body tightening instantly. She began a slow massage at his neck, rubbing the scented oil deep into his skin. She paid very careful attention to every line of his muscle, every hard knot. She moved down his neck until he was groaning with pleasure, his body relaxing under her hands.

Her fingers traveled down his biceps with slow, mesmerizing strokes; she tugged until he straightened his arm, and she continued along his forearm, until she twined her oiled fingers with his. Each finger was lubricated and rubbed until he felt almost boneless. She started down the other arm, until once again she’d locked her fingers with his and then begun a slow, individual massage of each digit.

“Are you planning on putting that over my entire body?”

She began working his back muscles, rubbing harder in some spots and with a sensual circle that nearly drove him out of his mind in others. “Yes,” she answered softly. “Everywhere.”

His shaft jerked hard. “I’m leaking all over the bed,” he said, his voice going velvet. He was as hard as a rock, almost painfully so, even his balls tight. She was going to kill him, yet he’d never felt so completely at peace and happy.

Her hands followed the slope of his flank, kneading the tight muscles. Her hair brushed along the back of his thighs, and he jerked in shock when she bit him. The small sting sent lightning careening through his bloodstream and arcing over his skin. For a moment her oiled hand slid under him. He lifted his h*ps to accommodate her and her fist closed around his shaft, slick with the heated oil. He groaned in satisfaction as she stroked him several times, but when he went to turn over, she stopped.

“No, stay still.” Her hands went to the backs of his thighs, kneading and massaging the heavy muscles and then down to his calves and even his feet.

Kadan wasn’t certain he would survive. Her hands were exquisite on his muscles, and the oil grew warmer, heating more with the manipulation of her fingers, until his skin began first to tingle, and then to flicker with electrical shocks, charging deeper into tissue until fire streaked through his bloodstream and pooled low and sinfully wicked in his groin.

When he was groaning, so full and heavy he was afraid he would burst, she licked up his thigh to his flexing flank, biting again. “Turn over.”

He moved fast, wanting to drag her under him, but she shook her head and caught at his arms, bringing them over his head, leaning in, her br**sts tantalizingly close to his mouth as she positioned his hands on the pillow.

“I’m not finished. You’re supposed to be enjoying this. I know I am.” She bent to brush a kiss along his mouth, then caught his lower lip between her teeth and tugged. “It’s only fair that I know every inch of you. If I’m marrying you, I should see what I’m getting.”

Her hands slid down his chest to find his heavy erection. She wrapped both well-oiled hands around his thick shaft, stroking, drawing the head toward her, leaning in to lick at the pearly drops she extracted. The velvet rasp of her tongue sent lightning lashing through him again. Her hands slid lower, beneath his sac, stroking upward, massaging the oil into his sensitive balls until his h*ps bucked nearly uncontrollably.

He reached for her, but she sank back onto her heels, kneeling just out of reach, shaking her head. “You’re supposed to do what I want tonight.”

“I am?” He lay back, watching her through half-closed eyes. She was so beautiful to him, there in the candlelight, taking the control, giving him more pleasure than he’d ever known in his life, than he’d ever known existed.

She nodded slowly and poured more oil into her hands. “Yes. You scared me tonight. I think that calls for a little cooperation, don’t you?”

Instead of massaging the oil into him, she began a slow massage into her shoulders and then down her arms. Kadan’s breath stilled when her hands cupped her br**sts, slid over the creamy mounds, thumbs rubbing the oil into her ni**les and kneading it into her skin until she gleamed in the soft candlelight. Her hands slid lower, tracing along her ribs and down her belly.

He touched his tongue to his lips. “I could help.”

She shook her head. “I’m watching you watch me.”

Kadan took a deep breath. He’d never seen anything so sexy in his life. Her hands slid over her body, taking her time, massaging the oil into every single square inch he wanted to taste. He could almost taste her now, a hint of cinnamon in his mouth mixed with wild honey. Her skin glowed in the soft light, her curves accented, her body open to his hungry gaze. Her skin loved the oil, absorbing it quickly until only the glow, scent, and that heightening awareness, the growing heat rushing through his system, remained.

She crawled over the bed, over him, a sensuous slide of skin against skin, her head dipping to lap at him as she moved over the top of him. Her long hair teased his h*ps and chest as she began to rub the oil into his front. She paid particular attention to his bruises, adding featherlight kisses to help with healing. She dipped her head again to trace circles with her tongue over his chest and ni**les, teeth scraping gently, teasing and tugging while his stomach bunched into tight knots and his shaft swelled to bursting.

She moved down his flat belly, rubbing along the defined muscles there, following with strokes of her tongue. His breath hissed out when she moved over his thighs, the insides, the backs of her hands sliding over his sac, now so tight and coiled, so ready he couldn’t stop the little pulses rocking his cock.

Her hands finished with his feet and moved back up his legs in a slow glide. His breath strangled in his throat, trying to anticipate what she might do next. She reached casually for the glass of ice water she’d set on the small table by the bed and took a long drink. His entire body went on alert, every nerve ending coming alive, as her na**d body slid up his. She wrapped her arms around his h*ps and lowered her head, again with that painful slowness, her long hair teasing his skin.

Her mouth slid over him like a glove, and his entire body arched in reaction, h*ps bucking wildly at the explosive combination of fire and ice. She sucked hard, flicking at the sensitive mushroom head with her cold tongue. The cinnamon burst around him and through him, inflaming his senses. If it was possible, his shaft thickened, every drop of blood in his body racing to gather into one point.

He caught her hair in his hands, tangling his fingers in the silken strands in warning. He couldn’t take much more without exploding. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he knew that in another minute he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from taking back control. Her mouth was too effective, driving him beyond all limits.

Just as he reached for her, she sat up and straddled him, dropping her body, so slick and tight and hot, over his, so that he filled her, pushing through glorious silken folds and lodging deep. She rose above him, the shadows from the candlelight flickering lovingly over her body as she began a languorous, sensuous ride. He could see the lines of her body, her head thrown back, eyes closed, throat exposed, and an expression of pure ecstasy on her face as her muscles worked him, while she rode up and down with that same slow purpose she’d been taunting him with since he came out of the shower.

“You’re so f**king beautiful,” he whispered, his hands going to her br**sts.

He’d never forget this night or the way she looked. She’d loved him with every touch of her hands, with her mouth and now her body. She’d loved him and he felt it and knew what the word meant, what the emotion was. Love. He tasted the word and it tasted like cinnamon—like Tansy.

I have nothing else to give you. Only me, only my body, only the way I feel about you.

Tansy wanted this night to be perfect, her gift to be the ultimate expression of love. He had sacrificed for her, risked his life, and come back to her expecting nothing in return. This was all she had to show him what he meant to her.

You’re everything to me. And he meant it, filling her mind with the way he felt, with the overwhelming intensity of his emotions for her.

She lifted her body leisurely, as if she had all the time in the world, rolling one way and then the other, moving her h*ps in small circles as she slid up and then down, inch by inch, filling herself with the hard, thick length of him. His shaft was scorching, fiery-hot, hard, like velvet over steel, stretching and filling her to bursting. Going so slow, she could feel every inch of him, the friction sending streaks of pleasure up through her body, spreading to her thighs and br**sts in waves.