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command.
    Now each tear she shed tore at him, ripping into his soul as nothing else had ever done. "You have to stop, baby," he whispered softly into her hair, "you will make yourself sick. It is all right now. He is gone. He will never touch you again." Or anyone eke. Dayan would destroy any evidence that Tempest had ever been in that blue pickup. Her attacker would drive himself into a tree and break his neck farther down the road.
    Darius found his own hand trembling as he stroked her hair, his chin rubbing the silkiness just because he had to. "What made you leave? We offered the perfect job for you. And you will have me to look after you."
    "Lucky me," Rusti said wearily. "I need some aspirin."
    "You need sleep and time to heal," he corrected gently. "Come home with us, Tempest. You will be safe there."
    Tempest clutched her head, but every single place Harry had punched her throbbed and hurt, each worse than the other. She hated that anyone should see her like this, and she certainly had no intention of going anywhere with Darius, especially when his sister and the rest of his group would witness her humiliation.
    She pushed ineffectually at the solid wall of his chest, wincing when even her palms hurt. Darius caught her hands and examined them carefully, then brought each to his mouth. His tongue moved over her fingers in a rasping caress that sent a shiver through her body but, oddly enough, soothed the pain. "I can't go back there, not like this."
    He could hear the anguish in her voice, the degradation and shame she felt. He realized she had not even looked up at him.
    "This was not your fault," he said. "You know that, Tempest. This man tried to rape you because he is depraved, not because you did anything to incite him."
    "I was hitchhiking," she confessed in a low voice. "I never should have gotten into his truck."
    "Tempest, if he had not found you, he would have found another girl, perhaps one without anyone to look after her. Now let me see your face. Do you think you could take it out of my shirt long enough for me to assess what damage he has done to you?" Darius made an effort to lighten his tone to help put her at ease.
    She could not believe how gentle he was. She could feel his enormous strength, his tremendous power, yet even his voice was tender. It brought fresh tears to her eyes. She had run away from him thinking him a monster, yet it was he who had saved her from a real monster. "I just can't face anyone yet." Tempest's voice was muffled against him, but he could hear her determination. She was getting ready to make her next bid for freedom.
    Darius turned then, with her cradled in his arms, and began striding back toward the road. The rain beat down on them relentlessly, but he didn't seem to notice. He took her a distance away so that she wouldn't have to see the horror of what he had done to her attacker.
    "I need to sit down," she finally objected, "on solid ground." Suddenly she realized her shirt was in tatters and her bare skin exposed. She gasped out loud, attracting his instant attention, his black gaze moving broodingly over her.
    Then he laughed softly to calm her anxiety. "I have a sister, honey. I have seen the female body before." But he was already lowering her feet to the ground and shrugging out of his jacket. Very gently he enveloped her in it, taking the opportunity to look at her more closely. Already dark bruises were marring the perfection of her fair skin, and a faint trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. Darius had to look away from that temptation. He caught a glimpse of more bruises on the creamy swell of her breast, along her narrow rib cage, and on her smooth stomach.
    Rage swept through him, turbulent and unfamiliar. He wanted to kill the man over and over, to feel his neck snap beneath his hands. He wanted to rend and tear like the leopards he had spent so much time studying, so much time learning from. He fought down the killing rage until it simmered