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Problems with control?
Right.
Taking a deep breath, she gripped his hand and allowed him to draw her from the
couch.
 In your room? His voice was low, soothing.
She thought about going into her bedroom and stripping down, exposing herself to
him amongst dirty sheets and in a space filled with her daily anguish. No.
 Can we&  She licked her lips and fought for courage. Supposedly she d gone to
his home. She could go there again. She had a future with Wyatt. She needed to begin
thinking as a mate and a mate would want to be in his den.  Can we go to your place?
Maybe being there will remind me about last night.
The blooming smile at her question fell, and she cursed herself. She should have
quit while she was ahead. Jarring her memory wasn t the only reason to go to his home.
She opened her mouth to tell him that, but he d already stepped back.
 Sure. Go grab what you need, sweetheart. The words were right. The tone was
not.
 Should I, she paused, wondering if she was going to give voice to the question in
her mind. The panther and her power urged her to say the words, but the human half of
her still worried over the next steps.  Should I bring things for, she closed her eyes and
got the rest of her question out in a rush.  Should I bring things for overnight? More
than one night?
Quiet. Nothing. He didn t respond, and God she was such a fucking idiot. She
should have kept her mouth shut, should have been happy with an afternoon, but no
she had to ask
 I would love any time you would give me, Bethy. An hour, a day, forever.
Whatever makes you comfortable.
Millie gulped and forced her eyes open. The emotion in his gaze struck her, dug
through her battered body and dove into her heart. For the first time in her life, her
panther, her power, and her human self were on the same page.
 Give me a few minutes to pack and leave a note for the Mastins. They ll come out
after we leave. She didn t wait for him to respond and instead dashed off. She had to
run and get packed before her nerves failed her.
Her room was still a mess, the blanket and sheets caked in mud while deep furrows
marred the mattress. At some point, she d shredded her blankets and dug right through
to the springs. She avoided looking any deeper, unwilling to face what d happened.
Then again, she didn t know what had occurred. What she did know was all three parts
of her didn t want to remember.
And that scared the hell out of her.
In quick, efficient movements, she packed a duffel bag with a few changes of
clothes, including a nightshirt. Knowing Wyatt was her mate and giving herself to him
were two entirely different things. She wanted to be covered as she slept.
Millie tossed the bag on a chair and strode toward the bathroom, intent on grabbing
some of her toiletries. She was not going anywhere without a toothbrush. Halfway to
the bathroom, a pale piece of something caught her eye. It was pristine, pale cream even
though it sat atop a ribbon of dried mud.
Padding toward the object, she bent down and picked it up. It was paper thin, light
and airy and no bigger than a quarter. Huh. Something niggled her mind, poked and
prodded at her, but refused to be jarred loose. Flashes of remembered pain and tears,
agony and hopelessness along with the desire to just& die.
Damn it. It was there, just beyond her reach.
She kept hold of the small piece of something, and went into the bathroom. She
wrapped it in tissue and decided she d tuck it in her bag. Later she d show it to Wyatt
and get his opinion.
For now, she had to get through the ride to Wyatt s.
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and finished gathering her belongings. In
minutes, she was ready to go and striding into the living room.
Her mate stood near the front window, his back to her as he stared into the street.
He was so strong, so solid and fit and powerful. He was everything she d always
dreamed of having in a mate. It wasn t just his body that drew her. It was the innate
goodness she sensed in him.
Now she needed to make sure she was worthy of such a male.
 I m ready.
Wyatt turned his head toward her, and she met his amber gaze. The lion inside him
was still very near the surface, and she didn t think it d retreat anytime soon. Especially
once it caught sight of her bruises and the bite on her shoulder. She had to admit it
worried her, much more than a little.
 Then let s go, sweetheart. He closed the distance between them and took the bag
from her hand.  I won t be able to rest easy until I ve got you in my den and can look
over your injuries myself.
Inside she knew he wouldn t hurt her like those in her past. He would care for her.
She had to trust him. He was her mate, her one, and everything inside her demanded
she put her faith in Wyatt.
So, she would.
Millie followed Wyatt out of the house and to his SUV. Once again, he lifted her
into the seat, and she fought to hide the wince that came with the action.  You re beat
up more than just your ribs, huh?
The words were tender; the tone was not.
 I ll be fine.
 Uh-huh.
She forced herself to sound more confident than she was.  Really. I m sure my
panther will fix me right up.
Even though it hadn t yet, which scared the hell out of her even more.
 Uh-huh. He pushed her door closed and then moved around the truck to climb
behind the steering wheel.  We ll be home in a couple of minutes.
We.
Home.
Something inside her, the barrier she d kept between them, cracked and pieces
crumbled with the words.
 Okay. I don t& I don t remember last night, so it ll be good to see where you live.
Panic assaulted her at the loss of memory once again.
 I know, sweetheart. He reached over and snared her hand, twining their fingers.
 We ll figure it out.
Millie didn t say a word after that, content to bask in his confidence. He believed his
words whole heartedly, so she would believe in him.
Fifteen minutes later, after leaving the center of Ridgeville and traveling down a
two lane road, they pulled up before a nice sized ranch-style home. A garage occupied
one end while the rest of the house was spread out to the right.
A flash, a snapshot, burst from her memory, and she realized she d seen this before.
She climbed from the SUV before Wyatt could come around and help her. She shoved
at the door and ignored the blooming ache in her ribs as she stumbled to the ground.
The red door. The blue shutters. The far right window with a broken latch.
She lurched forward, sandal-clad feet skidding on the gravel driveway, but she kept
moving toward the house.
 Bethy! Wyatt wrapped an arm around her waist, and she hid the wince that came
when he brushed against one of her larger bruises. She leaned against him, but refused
to let him slow her.
 I remember your house.
When he tried to steer her toward the front door, she wouldn t be redirected. She
kept moving, traveling to that broken window. There was no way she could know all of
this unless she d been there.
 Bethy, sweetheart.
 One second. She broke from his grip and pushed past the low bushes.  My paw
prints. She pointed at the ground. She d seen her own often enough to recognize them
as hers and hers alone.  My nose. Smeared wet spots had dried on the glass overnight.
Testing her own memory, she tugged on the window, and it rose without a sound.  She
was determined. She must have let go enough for me to get it open for her.
 I didn t even realize it was broken. He paused and looked at her, brow furrowed
in confusion.  She?
 My panther. She tipped her head toward the now open window.  Sneaky bitch.
 You talk about her as if you two aren t the same. He frowned.  I know we talk [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]