The B*E*A*S*T* Within Read online

  But now those hot dogs sat in his belly like lead weights. He could have been having a pleasant evening. He could have been making love to Lanie right this very moment, hearing her moans and fevered pleas as she begged him to plunge deep into her heat...

  Groaning, Noah lay back on the blanket and stared at the ceiling. This was for the best. It had to be. Lanie wouldn't want to be involved with a man who could shift into a tiger. How could she ever understand? But that thought didn't stop the pain he felt as his erection demanded to be set free from his jeans.

  "Damn it,” he whispered, trying hard to ignore the sounds of the shower turning on. His mind went wild, imagining Lanie naked—her soft skin, her perfect breasts begging for his tongue. It was all he could do not to break down the bathroom door and join her in the hot shower spray.

  Eleven

  Lanie emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. Keeping her eyes on the carpet, she moved across the room, setting her shoes by the front door.

  "You look nice,” Noah said, his voice coming from the direction of the bed.

  "I look weird,” she answered.

  Her golden locks were now a deep shade of auburn, a color she'd never had in her hair before. It was odd seeing herself in the mirror with such dark hair.

  "I like it."

  Chancing a glance at him, her breath caught at the look he gave her. In that moment, he reminded her of a predator himself, one who was looking at his prey. Coughing nervously behind her hand, she tucked her damp hair behind her ears.

  "Thanks."

  Noah stood suddenly, and Lanie took a step back in spite of herself. Her heart raced and she didn't know why. It wasn't as if he were going to pounce on her and pull her down on the bed, although the thought of it was appealing. Without another word, he grabbed his own box of hair color and looked back at her.

  "While I'm in the bathroom, keep the door locked and don't open it for any reason. Keep the curtains shut on the window, and if you watch TV, make sure the volume is low."

  "All right,” she told him with a nod.

  He stood there for a moment before he retreated into the bathroom. Lanie took a deep breath and rubbed her arms to get rid of the sudden goose bumps that sprang up. Intense was too tame a word to describe Noah. He did crazy things to her insides. Having him in the other room relieved her somewhat.

  Taking a few pillows off the bed, Lanie dropped them on the floor for him and pulled the coverlet off the mattress. Another blanket was underneath it on the bed, and Lanie knew she'd be warm enough. Laying the coverlet on the floor, she smiled at her handiwork.

  Noah had insisted on sleeping on the floor, and she wasn't going to fight him for it. In fact, she barely felt any remorse for his having to lie on the shag carpet all night long. Lanie smiled. A small, petty revenge it may be, but that didn't stop her from plopping on the bed with a sigh and a grin.

  Pulling the remaining blanket over her, she couldn't believe how tired she was. It had been a while since she'd had a good rest, and the bed was so comfortable.

  Within moments, she was asleep.

  * * * *

  Noah couldn't believe his own reflection. Lanie had been right. Weird was indeed how he would describe his new look. He had to smile when he thought of her cute little pout as she'd said the word, so very alluring. He wasn't even sure she knew she was pouting. But all he'd been able to think about was kissing those pursed lips. He'd bounded from the bed, fully intent on crossing the room and tasting her once more, but he'd succeeded in stopping himself. Now, as he ran his fingers through his newly brunette hair, he sighed in frustration. What the hell was he going to do? Lanie was right; they were powerfully attracted to each other, and denying that attraction was going to lead to many sleepless nights, of that he was sure. Maybe if he just told her the truth...

  No, God no. He couldn't do that. She'd fear him. She'd run away in terror, perhaps getting herself captured, or worse, killed in the process.

  Gathering the empty chemical bottles, he placed them back in the box and pulled out the trash can under the counter. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. Were those ... condoms?

  Reaching into the can, he found six of them, still perfectly sealed in their wrappers. Where had they come from? Could they have been left over from the previous tenants of this room? He didn't think so. The maids would have been thorough in cleaning up after them. That only left one alternative—Lanie.

  It made sense; she'd looked like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar after she'd emerged from the grocery store. He hadn't thought much of it then, but now, as he gazed at the condoms in his hand, he knew the truth of it. She'd stolen them. No wonder she'd been so eager to make love with him! All at once, every inch of his skin demanded her touch. If Lanie had wanted him badly enough to lift some condoms, then he'd have to be very careful around her from now on.

  But she'd thrown them in the trash.

  He didn't blame her. He'd pulled away rather abruptly after their kiss, and her silent tears hadn't been lost on him. Stuffing the condoms into his pocket, Noah damned himself for his weakness. Lanie was just too tempting. Better to be safe with the condoms than sorry without them.

  He opened the door and emerged, wondering if he should simply cave and make love with her tonight. Sleeping on the bed curled against her naked body sounded much more enticing than a night on the hard floor by himself. Just the thought had his pants growing tight. But the scene that greeted him made him smile with tenderness.

  Lanie was asleep, sprawled under the blanket on the bed with the lamplight shining right in her face. She was so exhausted that apparently she didn't care about the glare. And she'd made his bed on the floor before conking out herself.

  Padding softly to the bed, Noah leaned over and smoothed the hair away from her forehead gently. He gave her a soft kiss on her smooth skin and turned off the light.

  "Noah?” she moaned in her sleep, her eyes fluttering.

  Stroking her cheek, Noah whispered, “Go back to sleep, baby. You're safe. I'm here."

  "Don't leave me,” she said, so softly that he had to strain to hear it.

  "Not a chance, lady. You're stuck with me."

  Lanie rolled over, heaving what sounded like a contented sigh. With a grin, Noah eased onto his makeshift bed on the floor. Listening to Lanie's steady breathing, he finally drifted off himself.

  * * * *

  "Anthony!"

  Noah turned to see a woman with long black hair running toward him. A wide grin was on her face as she rushed forward, holding her skirt up high.

  "Anthony, you're home!"

  His heart burst within him at the sight of her, and he opened his arms wide. Crashing into his embrace, the woman hugged him fiercely.

  "I missed you so much,” she whispered in his ear.

  "I missed you too, babe,” he heard himself say.

  She smelled of roses as he inhaled her scent, a sudden calm washing over him. Tilting back her head, he kissed her, roving his tongue in her mouth and savoring her sweet sighs.

  "Oh, when can we get married?” she asked, pulling away just far enough for him to look into her expressive green eyes. Her fingers ran through his hair. “When can I be Mrs. Anthony Mercer?"

  "Soon, sweetheart, I promise."

  Those words echoed in his head as Noah sat up, disoriented. Looking around him, he saw he was still lying on the floor of the hotel room, with Lanie sound asleep on the bed next to him. Damn, that dream had been vivid. Who was the woman? And who the hell was Anthony Mercer? Noah stood from his blanket and wandered into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face, then he ran his hands through his hair. He felt as if he should know the woman's name, but no matter how hard he tried, it eluded him. She called him Anthony. Had he just been dreaming, or was it a memory?

  The details of her face were fading now, and he could barely remember the color of her eyes. Green weren't they? He wasn't sure.

  "Damn it!” he hissed.

  Saunteri
ng back out into the room, he crawled under the blanket once more and stared at the ceiling. Not being able to remember a damn thing was frustrating. Looking at the ring finger of his left hand, he didn't see the mark of a ring. Was he married? The woman in his dream had asked about a wedding. Had she been his wife?

  With a sigh, Noah rolled over and punched his pillow a few times. His anger demanded that he shift and kill something. The thought of it made him sick. He'd told Lanie that the tiger wasn't a killer, but that wasn't altogether true. He'd been trained to kill just as Tam had, just as all the others. But his memories of his life before made him different. At least he hoped so.

  The need to shift was so strong that it was like an intense itch he couldn't scratch. Rolling a few times, Noah shuddered, hating himself for what he was. How could anyone ever love him?

  He was nothing more than a monster.

  Twelve

  With a stretch and a sigh, Lanie rolled over and cracked open her eyes. She was warm under the blanket as she looked around the darkened room and read the time on the digital clock on the bedside table. It was eight fifteen.

  Just a sliver of sunlight filtered in through the heavy drapes on the window, doing little to illuminate the room. Noah's soft breathing drifted up to her on the bed. He was still sleeping.

  Leaning over the side of the bed, she glanced down at him. He lay on his belly with both arms tucked under his pillow. He wasn't wearing his ratty T-shirt, and she had a front-row seat to his wide, muscular back. She lay there and admired him for a few blissful moments, lamenting that he wasn't sleeping with her in the bed.

  Stubborn man. She knew damn good and well that he wanted her. Why did he fight it so much? Hell, she should be the one beating him off. Lanie didn't exactly make it a habit of falling into bed with any man she met. Usually, she kept them at arm's length for a good long time. Getting your heart broken by a cheating jackass will do that to you.

  But here she was, saddened over the fact that Noah had pushed her away. She supposed she understood why, as they really didn't have any time to worry about a relationship when other things were already escalating around them.

  Noah's newly brown hair seemed odd on him but didn't diminish his looks. He'd be sexy with any hair color. All Lanie wanted to do was run her fingers through it as she had the day before. Just thinking about his passionate kiss had her body tightening, and she suddenly found her clothing abrasive against her skin.

  Noah shifted on his pillow but continued to sleep, and that's when Lanie spotted something on the back of his neck that looked like a tattoo. Leaning in closer, she could see that it was a tattoo, but an odd one.

  "B*E*A*S*T* #121,” she whispered. What the heck kind of tattoo is that? And on the back of his neck? It was right at the bottom of his hairline, so if he grew his hair long, it wouldn't even be noticeable.

  Nothing else was on his neck, just that strange, small tattoo. Maybe she'd ask him about it when he woke up. It looked like some kind of acronym. Did B*E*A*S*T* stand for something? Had the agency put that mark on him? If they had, perhaps he didn't have any recollection of it.

  Her belly growled, and she realized she hadn't eaten anything since the hotdog she'd had the previous night. After that amazing kiss with Noah, she hadn't felt like eating much of anything. Her belly had been roiling at the time. Now it was protesting, and loudly at that.

  Lanie blushed when a particularly loud growl woke him. He rolled over and looked up at her, giving her such a sexy grin that she had to look away. The man obviously had no idea what he was doing to her with his hooded eyes and bare chest.

  "Good morning,” he said as he stretched. “How'd you sleep?"

  "Like a baby. You?"

  "Crappy. Had bad dreams all night."

  "I'm sorry.” And she was, too. After all he'd been through, he at least deserved some solace in his sleep.

  "You hungry?” he asked, running his hands through his hair.

  Lanie's mouth watered, but it wasn't for food. “Uh, yeah, I am."

  "Well, let's get a move on then,” he said. “We've got to ditch that car today and find us a new one. I have no doubt that the owners of that sedan I stole the plates from have alerted the cops by now."

  Chills raced up her spine, and she shuddered. Being reminded that they were on the run worked wonders on her raging libido. She felt as if a bucket of ice water had just been poured on her head.

  She got up from the bed and put on her shoes, then she went to use the bathroom. Without a brush, all she could do was comb her hair with her fingers. She still looked odd to herself, but she had to admit that she kind of liked the new hair color.

  Once she was done, she waited for Noah by the front door as he wandered into the bathroom. He'd already cleaned up his makeshift bed, putting the coverlet and the pillows back on the bed. It looked as if he'd slept there instead of on the floor.

  "I wish,” she said out loud.

  "What's that?” Noah asked as he emerged from the bathroom.

  "Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself,” she said, almost dying from embarrassment.

  "Ready to go? I saw a donut shop yesterday that we can stop at on our way out of town."

  "Yeah, just let me get my coat,” she said, lifting it off the back of one of the wicker chairs.

  A few minutes later, they had checked out and were back on the road. Noah once again took the wheel.

  "I think we'll drive the fifteen miles to the next town and ditch the car there. I'm sure we can find something else."

  "All right,” Lanie said in a small voice. Swallowing hard, she turned to look at him and remembered what she'd seen earlier, so she asked, “Why do you have a tattoo on your neck?"

  "What?"

  "A tattoo. It says ‘B*E*A*S*T* number 121.’ What does that mean? Does B*E*A*S*T* stand for something?"

  Noah sighed and gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles went white. He was silent for a few moments before he said, “The agency that's chasing us, Lanie, that's their name. Number 121 was the number they delegated to me. I was experiment number 121."

  "Dear God,” Lanie said under her breath, her eyes wide.

  "They tattooed every man they experimented on in the compound. We all have a number. It was their way of keeping track of us, I guess. Make us less human in the minds of the scientists. You can't have a moral dilemma if you're performing torture tests on a number rather than a name."

  Lanie's mouth went dry as she looked out the window. She felt as if she were going to be sick. “Why is the agency called B*E*A*S*T*?” she asked after a few moments of silence.

  "I ... I don't remember,” Noah told her, giving her a sidelong glance.

  After that, Lanie didn't feel much like talking. Digging her hands down deep into the pockets of her coat, she tried to warm herself from the sudden chills that racked her.

  Noah turned up the heat on the dash.

  "Thank you,” she whispered.

  "You're welcome."

  Thirteen

  "I had a dream last night about a man named Anthony Mercer.” Noah's deep voice penetrated the silence in the car, startling Lanie.

  "Who's that?” she asked, a little harsher than she'd planned.

  "I have no idea, but there was a woman in my dream. And she called me Anthony."

  "Do you think it's a memory?"

  "I don't know. But it was so real, so vivid.” He paused before he said, “She was happy that I finally came home. And she ... she asked when we would be married."

  Lanie gave him a sharp glance, feeling the icy fingers of jealousy crawling across her skin. “Oh?” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  "Yeah. I don't know if that means anything—if she was my fiancée or wife or what. As soon as I woke up, the image of her was gone. All I can remember is her black hair and the scent of roses."

  "Did she say her name?"

  "No, just Anthony's."

  "Is that name familiar to you at all?"

  "No."
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  "Well, maybe it was just a dream. Sometimes your mind plays tricks on you when you're asleep. Not every dream will be a memory."

  "I know, I know,” he said with a sigh. “But maybe we can keep the name in the back of our minds and see if we can find anything on him, if he exists."

  "Okay,” Lanie said. “Perhaps he was a friend of yours and you became him in your dream or something. Stranger things have happened."

  "Yeah, that's true. It's just that I feel like ... I feel like she was talking to me and not another man. I mean, I kissed her and..."

  "And what?” Lanie prodded. Was Noah blushing?

  Glancing at her, he said, “I could taste it."

  Lanie's heart plummeted to her toes. Noah was a man with no memory of his former self, before this B*E*A*S*T* agency got hold of him. It was altogether possible that he'd left behind a woman. Or a wife. Good Lord, he could have kids!

  "Well, did you ... uh, recognize the ... the taste?” Lanie asked, blushing herself.

  "I think I did,” he admitted. “Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could remember for a split second, but then it was gone. I've had flashes of her for awhile now, but last night was the one time I saw her face clearly."

  Turning away to look out the window, Lanie tried hard to fight her tears, but they filled her eyes regardless.

  "I have to find out who I am, Lanie,” he said gently, rubbing her shoulder with one of his big hands. “I can't afford not to."

  "I know,” she said, unable to keep her voice from cracking. “You could have a family."

  "That's why I can't ... why we can't—"

  "I know,” Lanie said again, turning this time to face him. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she tried to give him a smile but failed. “I know, Noah."

  "Lanie, I'm sorry."

  She bit the inside of her bottom lip to stop the sobs from escaping. “I'm sorry too,” she managed to say past the lump in her throat.

  After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Noah glanced in the rear view mirror and cursed under his breath.

  "What is it?” Lanie asked, wiping her damp cheeks and sniffling. She turned to look, but Noah stopped her.