Bodyguard
Page 21
"Mabel almost died when she was a baby because the foster mother we lived with wouldn't take her to the hospital. Too lazy and too drunk, but Mabel was really sick. I tried to steal the neighbor's car and take her there, but the neighbor caught me. Fortunately, he was a nice guy, and drove us there himself. He was a fireman, and he knew people in the emergency room. Good thing." Elizabeth laughed a little. "I was a shrimp and couldn't reach the pedals."
Ronan's eyes held anger. "I hope you didn't stay with that woman."
"No, we were moved. I never did learn the fireman's name, and I never saw him again. But he made me realize there were good people and bad people out there. You have to figure out which is which, but good ones are there. Like you."
Elizabeth put her hand on Ronan's where he rested it on her shoulder, her fingers small against his big, blunt ones.
"What makes you think I'm one of the good ones?" he asked.
"You stopped Marquez, for one. He had a gun--you couldn't know whether he'd have shot you dead. And letting us stay here, eating your food and taking up space. And what you do for the kids--I mean, the cubs." Elizabeth stroked Olaf's fur again. "I'd have been able to tell right away if you mistreated them. But I know they're happy."
Ronan spread his fingers and twined hers between them. "You were like them, weren't you?"
"A rescue case? Pretty much. Only I never got rescued. There were good times, don't get me wrong. It wasn't all terrible. We lived in some good houses, made friends."
"You rescued yourself, Lizzie," Ronan said. He squeezed her fingers, the pressure warm. "But I don't mind coming to your rescue."
Elizabeth squeezed back, feeling the warmth travel all the way through her body. "Why did you stop Liam from questioning me?"
"Because Liam's dangerous," Ronan said. "He and Sean have that Irish charm thing going, but don't underestimate them. They can be hard-ass if they want to be, and their dad's worse. Me mate-claiming you means you'll never be handed over to their dad. It means I've got your back."
With his strong arm behind her shoulders, Elizabeth started to believe it.
"I promise you, Ronan, my secrets won't hurt anyone except me and Mabel. It's because of Mabel that I don't want to tell you."
"WitSec?" Ronan asked.
Elizabeth started. "What?"
"Are you in witness protection? I won't out you, but I don't need a Fed breathing down my neck when one comes looking for you."
"No." She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "Call it Elizabeth protection." She opened her eyes again. "Yes, I moved here six years ago with a new name and a new name for Mabel, but not because I'm running from the law or in witness protection or because I owe people lot of money. I just needed . . . to start again."
He regarded her quietly, keeping whatever emotions he felt hidden. "People can start again without changing their identities. Usually they change identities when they don't want anyone from their past finding them."
Elizabeth said nothing. Ronan was close to the truth, but Elizabeth had learned the hard way that saying nothing was the best thing, no matter what it made people think of her. If she opened up to Ronan, would Liam compel him to tell Elizabeth's secrets? He'd said that this mate-claim protected her from that, but she was sure the smooth-talking Liam would probably find some loophole. Liam seemed to be good at getting his own way.
But Ronan, she'd seen, despite his brawn and good-natured banter, was not stupid. He studied her now with shrewd perception. "You don't have to tell me, Elizabeth. You wait until you're ready. And if it's never, then it's never."
"It won't be never."
Ronan brought their clasped hands up and rubbed her cheek with his broad finger. "The bears in this house have been through a lot. I've learned not to force them to talk about it. You take your time."
Elizabeth turned her head to find herself nose-to-nose with him. "I used to be a very bad judge of character, is all." Elizabeth slid her hand to his neck, playing with the ends of his very short hair. She liked how it felt, prickly but soft, like Olaf's fur. Under that was his Collar, warm metal fused to his neck. "But I've become much better at it," she said softly.
"And I'm one of the good ones?"
For answer, Elizabeth leaned in and kissed him.
It started as a small kiss, a thank-you kiss, but Ronan's big hand came around her neck, and he slanted his mouth over hers. His answering kiss was strong, warm, responsive.
Elizabeth parted her lips, her body tightening as his tongue swept into her mouth. His strength took her breath away, but he gentled it for her, holding back. Holding back a lot. The wildness in him, tempered for her, excited her.
He kissed slowly, firmly, his lips smooth. Elizabeth let her fingers slide down his back, finding muscles so solid they didn't give under her fingers. His hand on her neck never moved, as though he held her up, as though she'd never fall as long as he was with her.
Elizabeth moved closer. She kissed him hungrily, needing to know he'd hold her up forever.
On her lap, Olaf stirred and emitted a little growl.
Ronan eased from the kiss but didn't release her. He held her, their faces almost touching, his eyes so dark. A spark winked deep within them.
I can take care of myself. This was Elizabeth's constant mantra. But wouldn't it be wonderful to surrender to strength such as Ronan had, to know she would be safe--for always?
"We should put him to bed," Ronan said.
Olaf. He was warm on her lap, sleeping soundly. Elizabeth didn't want to let him go.
"You have a bed for baby polar bears?"
"He'll shift back."
Ronan pressed a last, soft kiss to Elizabeth's mouth, rose, and lifted Olaf. The cub didn't move and didn't change shape. Ronan signaled to Elizabeth to follow, and he carried the bear out of the living room and up the stairs.
The largest front room was taken by the two male cubs and held the detritus of boys of two ages: magazines, CDs, posters, toy trucks, action figures. No video games and no TV, because Shifters weren't allowed much technology. A small computer stood in one corner, an older model. That was all.
Both beds were fairly big and very sturdy. Elizabeth saw why when Ronan laid Olaf on one. He curled up, the claws of one paw slicing the cover of the pillow. From all the rents on the pillow, he'd done that more than once.
Ronan's eyes held anger. "I hope you didn't stay with that woman."
"No, we were moved. I never did learn the fireman's name, and I never saw him again. But he made me realize there were good people and bad people out there. You have to figure out which is which, but good ones are there. Like you."
Elizabeth put her hand on Ronan's where he rested it on her shoulder, her fingers small against his big, blunt ones.
"What makes you think I'm one of the good ones?" he asked.
"You stopped Marquez, for one. He had a gun--you couldn't know whether he'd have shot you dead. And letting us stay here, eating your food and taking up space. And what you do for the kids--I mean, the cubs." Elizabeth stroked Olaf's fur again. "I'd have been able to tell right away if you mistreated them. But I know they're happy."
Ronan spread his fingers and twined hers between them. "You were like them, weren't you?"
"A rescue case? Pretty much. Only I never got rescued. There were good times, don't get me wrong. It wasn't all terrible. We lived in some good houses, made friends."
"You rescued yourself, Lizzie," Ronan said. He squeezed her fingers, the pressure warm. "But I don't mind coming to your rescue."
Elizabeth squeezed back, feeling the warmth travel all the way through her body. "Why did you stop Liam from questioning me?"
"Because Liam's dangerous," Ronan said. "He and Sean have that Irish charm thing going, but don't underestimate them. They can be hard-ass if they want to be, and their dad's worse. Me mate-claiming you means you'll never be handed over to their dad. It means I've got your back."
With his strong arm behind her shoulders, Elizabeth started to believe it.
"I promise you, Ronan, my secrets won't hurt anyone except me and Mabel. It's because of Mabel that I don't want to tell you."
"WitSec?" Ronan asked.
Elizabeth started. "What?"
"Are you in witness protection? I won't out you, but I don't need a Fed breathing down my neck when one comes looking for you."
"No." She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "Call it Elizabeth protection." She opened her eyes again. "Yes, I moved here six years ago with a new name and a new name for Mabel, but not because I'm running from the law or in witness protection or because I owe people lot of money. I just needed . . . to start again."
He regarded her quietly, keeping whatever emotions he felt hidden. "People can start again without changing their identities. Usually they change identities when they don't want anyone from their past finding them."
Elizabeth said nothing. Ronan was close to the truth, but Elizabeth had learned the hard way that saying nothing was the best thing, no matter what it made people think of her. If she opened up to Ronan, would Liam compel him to tell Elizabeth's secrets? He'd said that this mate-claim protected her from that, but she was sure the smooth-talking Liam would probably find some loophole. Liam seemed to be good at getting his own way.
But Ronan, she'd seen, despite his brawn and good-natured banter, was not stupid. He studied her now with shrewd perception. "You don't have to tell me, Elizabeth. You wait until you're ready. And if it's never, then it's never."
"It won't be never."
Ronan brought their clasped hands up and rubbed her cheek with his broad finger. "The bears in this house have been through a lot. I've learned not to force them to talk about it. You take your time."
Elizabeth turned her head to find herself nose-to-nose with him. "I used to be a very bad judge of character, is all." Elizabeth slid her hand to his neck, playing with the ends of his very short hair. She liked how it felt, prickly but soft, like Olaf's fur. Under that was his Collar, warm metal fused to his neck. "But I've become much better at it," she said softly.
"And I'm one of the good ones?"
For answer, Elizabeth leaned in and kissed him.
It started as a small kiss, a thank-you kiss, but Ronan's big hand came around her neck, and he slanted his mouth over hers. His answering kiss was strong, warm, responsive.
Elizabeth parted her lips, her body tightening as his tongue swept into her mouth. His strength took her breath away, but he gentled it for her, holding back. Holding back a lot. The wildness in him, tempered for her, excited her.
He kissed slowly, firmly, his lips smooth. Elizabeth let her fingers slide down his back, finding muscles so solid they didn't give under her fingers. His hand on her neck never moved, as though he held her up, as though she'd never fall as long as he was with her.
Elizabeth moved closer. She kissed him hungrily, needing to know he'd hold her up forever.
On her lap, Olaf stirred and emitted a little growl.
Ronan eased from the kiss but didn't release her. He held her, their faces almost touching, his eyes so dark. A spark winked deep within them.
I can take care of myself. This was Elizabeth's constant mantra. But wouldn't it be wonderful to surrender to strength such as Ronan had, to know she would be safe--for always?
"We should put him to bed," Ronan said.
Olaf. He was warm on her lap, sleeping soundly. Elizabeth didn't want to let him go.
"You have a bed for baby polar bears?"
"He'll shift back."
Ronan pressed a last, soft kiss to Elizabeth's mouth, rose, and lifted Olaf. The cub didn't move and didn't change shape. Ronan signaled to Elizabeth to follow, and he carried the bear out of the living room and up the stairs.
The largest front room was taken by the two male cubs and held the detritus of boys of two ages: magazines, CDs, posters, toy trucks, action figures. No video games and no TV, because Shifters weren't allowed much technology. A small computer stood in one corner, an older model. That was all.
Both beds were fairly big and very sturdy. Elizabeth saw why when Ronan laid Olaf on one. He curled up, the claws of one paw slicing the cover of the pillow. From all the rents on the pillow, he'd done that more than once.
