drew a long shuddering sigh against his chest. He waited for her to say something. Anything. Instead, she snuggled closer against him and sighed. Bay felt the rigid tension in her body relax as she finally surrendered to the safety of his embrace.
Manda figured that as long as she kept her mouth shut and didn’t look the man in the eye, she wouldn’t have to deal with whatever had just happened. Besides, it felt so good here, held snugly in his strong arms. She felt protected. Safer than she’d felt in many years, even though he was obviously up to no good. Why else would he have come for her?
Harry had betrayed her. He’d promised her keepers he’d deliver her weekly grocery orders and protect her privacy, but this beautiful man had obviously bought him off.
She wondered what newspaper or television station he represented. There was a price on her head, one she’d tried to ignore for much too long. The fact the man had found her told Manda she’d not been careful enough, but maybe this was merely one more example of God’s punishment.
It would be nice to think otherwise. She’d never seen anyone as handsome as he was, even dressed in that strange, black leather suit. It made him look huge and powerful, but she liked the way the leather smelled. She even liked the way he smelled, but she didn’t know a lot about men and their scents.
She’d never been around a man who didn’t terrify her, except maybe Papa B, the man who rescued her so many years ago. Even so, she was almost sure she’d been punished enough for her sins, though she knew her father would never have agreed.
Whoever it was who held her, adjusted his position. She wondered if she was too heavy for him, if maybe his arm where she rested her upper body had grown weary. He stroked her hair with his right hand, an act so tender yet unbelievably erotic, she practically whimpered.
She’d never been held by a man. Not even her father when she was small. He’d patted her head occasionally but left the affection and hugs to her overbearing mother. That was before the curse, when she’d still been just a normal little tow-headed girl living with her missionary parents in a small village on the Tibetan Plateau.
Of course, Mother had only been a pain with Manda and the help. Terrified of her overzealous missionary husband, Mother had taken her frustrations out on either Manda or the young village girls who came in to clean and cook for them.
Manda missed the girls from the village. She’d played in their homes, eaten at their tables. Life in Tibet had been a wonderful adventure. Wonderful until God cursed her for her sins.
“Will you talk to me now? Are you going to be okay?”
His voice rumbled from deep in his chest and she felt it against her cheek. Manda sighed. She’d truly hoped he would just go away, though she knew that wasn’t about to happen.
“I’m okay. I can talk,” she said, though her voice, twisting out through her malformed vocal cords, often slipped into squeaks and grunts. “I don’t really want to, though.” As much as she loved the warm comfort of his arms, Manda sat up and pushed herself away from the man. As quickly as she could, she scrambled off his lap and turned away. It was easier not to look at him. To know he couldn’t see her face.
They’d let her wear a veil at the lab in California and when they’d flown her in private planes whenever she had to travel. Manda wanted to think it was more for her own comfort, but she knew the truth. It was so she wouldn’t frighten the technicians or anyone else who might see her.
“Please. Don’t turn away from me. I’m not here to hurt you. I don’t intend to write stories about you or tell anyone you’re here. I really am here to help.”
Now that was a new approach. She almost laughed, but choked the sound back at the last minute. She’d had all the help she needed over the years, thank you very much. Look what it had gotten her. Not a damned thing but pain and fear.
Manda heard him stand up and flinched. A warm hand touched her shoulder and fingers squeezed her lightly, as if caressing her. She trembled. Her entire body was shaking and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.
“Relax. I’m going to put your groceries away. I don’t want anything to spoil.”
She heard him walk away and her stomach growled. She’d run out of food early yesterday and was desperately hungry. Now the scent of the blood-red meat in the grocery order made her mouth water. She licked her muzzle to keep from salivating all over herself and slowly turned around.
He’d picked up the heavy box like it weighed nothing at all, and carried it into the kitchen. A package with two thick sirloin steaks sat on the top. He set that aside and began putting other perishables in the refrigerator—fresh hamburger and chicken, even some fish, though it wasn’t her favorite. Manda focused on the steaks sitting on the table, slowly warming to room temperature.
She licked her muzzle again and inhaled the rich smell of fresh blood. A whimper caught in her throat and she realized she’d moved closer to the table. Had he noticed? She couldn’t be sure. He put the last of the groceries away and she wondered if he’d forgotten the steaks, but when he moved the cardboard box to a corner, he went right back to the package of meat.
Manda glanced up at him and blinked. He looked at the raw meat the same way she did!
“You like it raw, too, don’t you?”
Too? He liked his meat raw? She nodded her head.
“Good. Do you mind sharing with me? It’s been a long journey, searching for you.”
She shook her head, entirely confused now. No one else ever ate his meat raw. She was the only one. The freak.
He reached in the cupboard and grabbed two plates. Set them on the table without silverware. Grabbed a knife, tore open the plastic wrap covering the steaks and slid a thick slab of meat onto each plate.
“Do you want me to cut it up?”
She nodded. Carefully, he cut one of the steaks into bitesized pieces. Then he held her chair for her and Manda slipped into it, resting on one hip to avoid that damned tail. He sat down across the table from her and waited.
Confused, she stared at him, then caught a strong whiff of the meat. Hunger took over and she practically attacked the steak, using one paw to hold the plate. Biting and licking up the pieces, tearing at them with her sharp canines. Swallowing the meat in huge gulping bites.
It tasted warm and rich and she thought of what it must be like, to hunt and kill and eat meat still warm from life. She’d rather think imaginary dreams than actually consider the implications of the man sitting across from her.
She knew he must be watching her, but the hunger was too powerful, her need too great. She licked the last remnants of blood from the plate, still holding it down with one paw. Finally, Manda forced herself to stop and raise her head. He’d left his piece of the steak intact. Now he sat across from her, holding the bloody slab of meat in his two hands, chewing thoughtfully as he watched her eat.
She licked around her muzzle with her long tongue. So what if he saw! He already knew what she looked like. Then she used both hands to pick up a napkin and carefully wiped the rest of the blood away from her face. Hunger assuaged, Manda watched the man finish the last of his steak with obvious relish. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled at her, then rested his chin on his folded hands. “Do you want to tell me your story,
