Everyone has a Weak spot (5 page)

“Ren, my jacket, okay? People will see. It'll heal. Calm down, please?” Ignoring her plea, Renaud laid a hand on her cheek.

“Rory, let me get some ice, huh? If I don't you won't be able to move your shoulder in the morning."

“Okay, Ren,” she acquiesced. To War, she said, “He'll be a mess until I let him do something about it.” She smiled weakly. War's brow furrowed.

“I've never seen him act like that.” He gently touched the growing purple bruises on her shoulder. “I think he's right though. How'd he know you were hurt? I didn't see him come up,” War mused aloud.

“He's very stealthy,” Lorelei excused, wincing in pain as War probed. He looked hard at her.
Was she being a smartass?
“I'm always getting hurt, and Renaud's known me a long time. He's like a brother to me. He looks after me.” She said this on an indrawn breath. He continued to touch the deep purple and pink bruises on her shoulder.

“Stop poking her, Oncle!” Renaud snapped, placing a napkin filled with crushed ice against the worst of the bruises.

War was taken aback. Where was his aloof nephew? Who was
this
boy?

After a minute or two of Renaud's ministrations, Lorelei spoke softly to him. He had stepped back, but was unwilling to move away from her.

“Renaud, I think it's much better now.” She gave him a sweet smile. He smiled back, his face turning red.

“I did it again, huh?” He ducked his head, embarrassed. “I overreacted, didn't I?"

“Yeah, you did, just a little,” she chuckled at him.

War silently stepped closer.

Lorelei gave Renaud a little hug. “And I love you for it,” she told him, kissing his chin. “Why don't you go visit with some of your friends? I'll find a seat and listen to the music, okay?” she encouraged him. He looked divided.

War couldn't believe this. Renaud had never shown the slightest interest in anyone's well-being or safety before. The young man usually even disregarded his own comfort.

“I swear I'll do a better job of protecting the lady from predatory females, son.” War assured him. “Maybe she'll come for a little walk outside.” Renaud inspected his uncle's face as if searching for a flaw. War chuckled. “I'll treat her like spun glass. Now go on!"

Chapter 6

Renaud looked from one to the other. He pulled on the chain around his neck and let go. “Don't go near the door alone, Boo,” he told her very, very softly. She nodded almost imperceptibly. Renaud slowly moved away.

“Walk with me,
chéri
?” War rumbled, guiding her through the door. “Tell me why Renaud was so worried about you being near the door all alone,
chéri,
” he ordered.

He had led her out away from the building. Their forms could be seen but they were partially hidden by trees and shrubbery.

“Why he didn't want me out the door by myself?” she repeated, obviously playing for time. He stepped in front of her and looked down at her face.

“
Oui, chéri
. By yourself. Out the door. Hmmm?” He couldn't help himself. He moved his hands up and down her delicate body. One hand pressed against the small of her back moving her into him. He softly kissed her bruised shoulder. His other wayward hand kept straying to the hem of her dress. It was as if his hand had a mind of its own.

“Maybe Renaud doesn't want me to fall in a bog?” she ventured. She sounded a little breathless.

“Sugar baby, I don't want you to fall in any bog neither. Just there ain't no bogs in Louisiana.” He leaned down and licked the sensitive place behind her ear. When that caused an indrawn breath he licked the outside shell of her ear. “Plenty of swamp though,” he conceded, nibbling on her neck.

“Oh, maybe you shouldn't do that,” she sighed. He could smell her growing arousal.

“Mmmm, what if I do this, then?” he growled covering her lips with his. He moved his wandering hand up her thigh at exactly that same time until it found the warm spot between her legs. Her gasp allowed his tongue to pillage her mouth at will.

He slipped his finger under the elastic at her inner thigh and stroked her dripping labia. She began to make little mewling sounds as he moved another finger under her panties and inserted one inside her. She was wet with arousal and clearly had little experience with it.

He rubbed his erection against her thigh and kissed her hungrily. One of his questing fingers moved in and out of her, and he brought his other hand around to rub her clit. She was so small and thin he could hold her against him and still reach under her.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered urgently against her mouth. “Please make me feel good and come for me."

It wasn't long before she began to shake, and her hot channel began to clench around his finger. His mouth stole her cries, and he held her close as her slender body jerked. Slowly, he eased his fingers out from her center and away from her clit. He put them in his mouth.

“You taste so beautiful,
ma chéri,
” he rumbled. “Soon I will put my mouth on you and drink as your juice flows onto my tongue.” She hid her face against his chest in embarrassment.

“Don't hide from me,
mon amour
. I must see you and know how you feel.” He turned her face to his. “You shouldn't feel embarrassed by what we do in passion. You are
trés, trés belle
to me."

She looked up at him. “I've never even kissed a man—or a boy—on the lips before,” she confessed. “I can't help feeling self-conscious."

“Oh,
ma chéri
, you don't know what you give me,” he groaned. He was
definitely
king of the world. He could have come just from what she'd told him.
His! She was his, and his alone!

When he'd led her outside, War had not intended to touch her as he had. Driven purely by instinct, he had been compelled to imprint himself on her somehow. He supposed that it was a good thing that he hadn't thrown her down and taken her in the bushes.

He tilted her face up and held her head in one hand. He began to kiss her brow, her cheeks, her eyes, finally, her mouth.

“Promise me,
chéri,
” he growled, “promise you'll let no one else touch you. Promise!” he demanded.

“I promise,” she whispered. He straightened her dress.

“We should go in. I just want to take you home with me. Guess we should go back.” Both were silent as they returned to the gathering. Soon after that, Renaud took her home. War left right after they did.

* * * *

Lorelei was completely taken aback by her interlude with the Sheriff. As he escorted her back to the gathering, her mind was abuzz. Promising to let no one else touch her had seemed superfluous. He had been the first man to ever touch her and there didn't seem to be a line forming behind him.

She knew about sex, of course. She read about it, sometimes. She'd read scientific studies, romantic tales, erotic stories, even things that had been classified as pornography.

The truth was, she'd even touched herself where the Sheriff had touched her. That had
never
felt like he'd just made her feel.

Throughout her isolated life, she'd wished she could date and spend time with a man. Like most young women, she had wanted romance. The problem was, when she did have time for it, something catastrophic usually came up.

Now, at twenty-one years old, she couldn't really afford to think about romance. She and her brother were being hunted by the people who had held her father hostage for most of his life. Their goal was to breed Lorelei and her brother with each other and with other people.

Sex just hadn't intrigued her as much after she began to understand the reality of her situation. Of course, Sheriff Warrick Martine cast a different light on things altogether.

She hoped he didn't think she was easy. On the other hand, maybe that would be for the best, too. How she wished she could talk to her brother about this one...

* * * *

Renaud had been dancing with Zierra, his on again-off again, almost-girlfriend, when his medallion had flashed and zapped him. He knew that meant that his sister had been hurt somehow.

He enjoyed holding Zierra in his arms, especially when she was quiet. Zierra being quiet was a rare thing indeed, he thought with a sigh. In fact, he knew he was about to get an earful.

When Lorelei needed him, he dropped whatever he was doing and went to her. She did the same for him. Dancing with Zierra was nice but if Lorelei was hurt, he didn't have time to be nice.

Academically, Renaud could understand how upsetting it must be for a woman to be abandoned in the middle of a dance. Zierra was pretty spoiled, though. It wouldn't hurt her to have her ego bruised a little. He didn't want Zierra thinking that she was more important to him than she was, either.

He knew that he appeared emotionless to most people. Being near his sister allowed him to feel and show more emotion than he usually could. Still, he'd tried to explain to Zierra that he didn't feel love and hate and excitement and anger in the same way as most people did.

He'd told her that he cared about her and was attracted to her, but he wasn't prepared to promise more than he had to give. He cared enough about her not to drag her into the danger and uncertainty that he lived in.

“Well,” oozed Zierra sarcastically, “did the little Yankee get what she needed from you?"

Renaud looked down at the girl, unmoved. He decided to take her words at face value.

“Yes, she got what she needed from me. Now she's out enjoying the air with my Oncle War.” With satisfaction, he saw her face mottle in anger. He turned to walk away.

“Renaud Brunet, we are not finished discussing this!” Her voice was louder now.

“Perhaps you are not finished but I'm pretty sure I am,” he told her evenly. “I will say this one last time. Listen carefully."

Zierra's eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to speak. Renaud held up a hand.

“Lorelei Allemande and I are not romantically involved and never will be. She is, however, very important to me and if I think she needs me, I will be there. No matter what, I will be there.” He spoke slowly and looked her in the eye.

“What about me, Renaud?” she challenged him. “What if I need you? Am I not as important as she is?"

He stared into her eyes unblinking for over a minute before answering her. Judging by her expression, she'd begun to dread what he might say next.

“I have told you that I care for you somewhat, but I will not lick at your heels and beg for your attentions like a pup. Find someone else if that's what you need.” He continued to stare into her eyes. “Sometimes, it's not about you, Zierra. There are other people on this planet."

He turned and walked out the door. The last thing he wanted to do was become angry with her. While he knew that he wasn't in love with her, she made him mad in a way that nobody else ever had. She stirred his emotions. It was worse when Lorelei was around.

He'd taken a few more steps when someone grabbed him.

“Damn it, Renaud!” It was Zierra.

He felt his beast rise within him and he pushed her roughly against a nearby tree. She opened her mouth to protest, and he slammed his mouth over hers.

His kiss was hard, angry and passionate. He bit her lower lip and nipped at her tongue. As his tongue mated aggressively with hers, he pinned her between the hard tree trunk and his hard body.

He thrust his raging erection into her soft abdomen. As he continued to ravage her mouth, Renaud rolled his hips again and again against her mound. He could smell her arousal and knew he was causing friction that was building an ache in her.

She moaned and arched her hips against him, torturing him, begging for more. His hands cupped and kneaded her buttocks as he rubbed his denim-covered rod against her. He knew that, with her hips arched as they were, he was rubbing her clit through the thin material of her silk panties and cotton skirt.

She began to gasp into his mouth, clutching him tighter. He absorbed the shout of her climax. When he felt some of the tension leave her, he lifted his head, transferred her arms to the trunk of the tree and walked away from her.

He saw his uncle and Lorelei approaching him. She was ready to go home as was Renaud. The drive back to town was unusually quiet.

Chapter 7

A few days later, Lorelei was leisurely strolling through the aisles of Xavier Parish's larger department store. She was reaching for the bargain bleach when, in her mind, she heard her papa's voice tell her:

"Run, Lorelei!"

As she clutched the bleach to her chest and began to turn, she felt hands grab her roughly.

Instinctively, she bounced up and then down, wrenching herself away at the same time. As she did so she tried to open the bleach bottle.
Damn those vacuum seals on the openings!

Pain burst in her cheek as her attacker hit her hard with the back of his hand. He hit her again on the same cheek causing her to stumble and cut her leg on a shelf corner. She was finally able to poke a hole through the vacuum-sealed plastic stretched over the top of the bleach and she squeezed a stream of the burning liquid into her attacker's face.

By the way he was screaming and sputtering when he dropped her, she thought she might have gotten both his eyes and his mouth. She hoped he had an open sore. She heard him banging into shelves as he ran away.

Lorelei just had time to mourn the loss of her favorite blouse—now bleach spattered—before a fellow shopper helped her up, chattering a mile a minute.

Lorelei squeezed her flashing medallion, trying to keep her wits together. Her face felt like something live was trying to eat its way out. If only this woman would shut up, maybe she could think. Mercifully, the woman handed her some kind of cleaning wipe that she could use to wash some of the bleach from her skin.

“I saw the whole thing, honey! Here's a baby wipe, clean that smelly bleach off. It's gonna burn your skin. You're such a pale little thing. I called the police myself! I just can't believe it! Was he trying to rape you right here, or take your purse? Are you okay? Say somethin’ honey! Oh Sheriff, thank God you're here, I think her brain may have been addled by the attack!"