by Sasha White
She glanced around the near-empty beach and boardwalk, and a tingle of unease fluttered in her belly. Clearly, she’d hung onto it longer than was smart. Closing her eyes, she muttered a quick prayer and turned the key again, relieved when it caught and began to purr roughly.
A sharp rap on the driver’s side window and a shouted, “Yo!” made her eyes pop open and a squeak jump from her tight throat.
She turned her head and tamped down her fear at the smiling face in the window. “Get out the car, bitch.”
She slapped her hand over the automatic locks a split second before he tried the handle. Then she shoved the car into reverse and was about to slam her foot on the pedal when there was a loud bang on the hood. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw another gang-banger there, this one pointing a gun right at her.
“Damn it.” She knew better. She really did.
Venice Beach at night wasn’t the bed of crime it used to be, but victims of random violence made up a good many of her clients. Crime was everywhere and anywhere; she knew it in her head, but suddenly none of that mattered. What mattered now was that, as she looked around, the only people she saw were the two car-jackers and a couple of lumpy shadows that were likely homeless people who wouldn’t get involved.
“Come on, bitch, get out the car!” the guy at her door shouted. “The longer you make us wait, the harder it’s gonna be on you.”
She put the car in park and quickly slipped her heels off while she grabbed her purse and pretended to fumble with the door locks. She could hear them laughing and talking shit outside the window, but she ignored it, instead focusing on what she had to do. She had to get past the guy at the door and run. They could have the car; they couldn’t have her.
Most people liked to run on the beach in the morning. Start the day off right, and all that shit. Adam worked-out every morning but in his gym. He preferred to run the beach at night a couple of times a week. It was less crowded, and the sound of the waves rolling up on the beach weren’t drowned out by barking dogs or seagulls hunting. Plus, every now and then, he got the bonus release of handing out a beat-down to some idiot who was stupid enough to see him as a target when he strolled the boardwalk for his cool down.
He was standing in front of the red and white striped awning of the cafe where he’d seen Beauty before he started his run, when a sharp scream rent the air. South, it came from the south.
Adam didn’t think twice. In seconds, he was at the parking lot and saw one guy wrestling with a woman on the ground next to an old Jaguar Coupe, and another dancing around them, waving his hands in the air and egging his buddy on.
One of those hands held a pistol, but the idiot was so intent on watching his buddy he didn’t see Adam coming until it was too late. His eyes widened, he aimed and fired, but Adam had already started his roll. He came up to the left of the gunman, grabbed his outstretched hand, turned into him, and pulled it down sharply over his own shoulder, dislocating the shooter’s elbow and shoulder. The guy’s scream of pain was cut off sharply when Adam spun again and punched him in the throat, effectively dropping him out of the fight.
It had taken a total of three seconds, and when Adam turned to the pair on the ground, the second attacker was already on his feet and taking off. The animal inside him wanted to chase down the other prey, but the man needed to stay and protect.
Adam turned to the wheezing, moaning pile of shit next to him, slammed a roundhouse into his jaw, knocking him out, and then turned to the woman now kneeling on the ground.
It was Beauty.
“Oh, my god,” she whispered, staring at him.
He squatted so he was at eye level with her but didn’t move closer. He didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She stared at him a moment longer, pupils dilated, lips parted, then she gave her head a shake and pushed to her feet, visibly gathering herself.
“Of course you’re not going to hurt me. You saved me,” she said as she picked up the purse nearby and dug through it. “Is he dead?”
“No.”
Adam listened, looking her over as she called 911, and asked for police at their location.
She was very calm and cool. Her voice didn’t waiver, her hands didn’t tremble, and her avid gaze never left his.
He’d had no fear heading into the fight, but when he looked at Beauty, he was afraid—afraid he’d just found someone he wouldn’t be able to let go.
CHAPTER TWO
Her hero was tall, dark, and dangerous. One second, she’d been fighting to keep from being raped and, the next, she’d been free. It was that god-awful scream of pain echoing around them that had stopped the guy who’d been on top of her. They’d both looked up in time to see a vengeful angel of death turn and head in their direction.
Olivia had frozen, but her attacker wasn’t so slow. He’d jumped up and ran off quicker than a sprinter from the starting blocks at the Olympics while everything in her had slowed and focused on him. Even now, while she automatically answered the questions the operator was asking, everything was sort of moving in slow motion—except her heart rate. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her chest, and it wasn’t fear or adrenaline.
Okay, maybe adrenaline. But there was also arousal. Some primordial part of her had gone all soft and brainless at the sight of the big, strong man in front of her. Visions of him throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her off as the spoils of victory had her creaming in her panties instead of screaming at the 911 operator to hurry the hell up.
He was one magnificent animal. If she were too blind to see it in the lean muscles clearly defined beneath his clinging T-shirt, she’d see it in the way he moved—graceful strength and power held in check. It vibrated off him. She could feel it brush against her skin even from ten feet away.
Sirens screamed through the air, and she disconnected from 911. The police were almost there.
“Why’d you take your shoes off?” her caveman asked, ignoring the black-and-white patrol car that swung into the parking lot.
She looked down at her bare feet and wiggled her toes. “I kicked them off so I could run faster.”
Stealing a glance at him from under her lashes, she was surprised to see him almost smile.
“Smart.”
Heat crept up her neck, and pleasure washed over her at his soft praise.
“Step back from the lady, now!”
“It’s okay, officer,” Olivia called out as she pulled her gaze away from the man in front of her and turned to two policemen striding closer. “He’s the one who saved me. You might want to cuff that one though.”
While one officer handcuffed the guy on the ground, who had just started to come around, the other came over to question her hero. She should’ve stopped them from treating him like a perpetrator, but she wanted to hear his answers as much as—probably more than—they did.
“Adam Kessler,” he answered, calmly. “I was just cooling down after a run on the beach, and I heard her scream.”
Adam, she thought. The first man. Was there nothing about him that wasn’t powerful?
She listened to him tell how he’d come up on them and what he’d seen. His voice was strong and deep, his words clear and concise as he gave an amazingly detailed description of the attacker who’d gotten away.
Military. He had to have a military background to fight the way he did, move the way he did. It sounded like he’d heard and seen a lot in those very few fast seconds. His hair was a bit longer than standard though, and some of the rigidity she’d seen in many active soldiers was more relaxed in him. He was more in a constant state of readiness than rigidness. Ex-military.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?”
She realized then that the other officer was talking to her, and she gave herself a mental head slap. The scene played over in her mind, and the words tumbled from her lips
. As the officer listened to her story, other people finally came out of the shadows, watching the scene, wondering what had happened. A crowd, a small one, grew around them, and Olivia felt sad. Of course there were still people around, but none of them had stepped up to help a stranger. Only one man had done that. She fought not to look over at Adam, and told the officer that, yes, she certainly did want to press charges. When he took her personal information, he stalled for a second.
“Dr. Olivia Hamilton? The shrink?”
“Yes.” She glanced at his name then met his sharp gaze. “Rennick?”
“Gwen Rennick is my sister,” he said. “She said you were actually pretty cool when she had to see you.”
Olivia smiled at him. “I’ll take that as a compliment as I know exactly what most police officers think of being made to visit a psychologist after an incident.”
He chuckled. “It’s not our favorite thing to do, that’s for damn sure.”
Officer Rennick finished taking her statement and then gave her a card and case number before asking if she wanted him to call another car to escort her home.
She glanced over to where Adam was leaning against her car, watching her. “No, I think I’m okay now.”
Rennick followed her gaze. “Do you know him? Ever see him before tonight?”
She shook her head. “No, but I doubt he’d save me, stick around to give a statement, and then do something stupid like hurt me.”
“Are you sure? You should know better than anyone that some people are crazy stupid.”
Not him, she thought.
She smiled at the officer and held out her hand. “I’m sure. Thank you for everything, and please say hello to your sister for me.”
Officer Rennick shook her hand then walked her to her car where she pretended to not see the hard look he gave her hero before heading back to his patrol car.
They watched each other until the patrol car was gone, then Olivia spoke. “Can I give you a ride home?”
He looked at her, dark eyes intense and sharp. “You have a first aid kit?”
“In the trunk,” she said with a nod.
He reached inside the still open door of the car and popped the trunk. At least someone had thought to turn the engine off before now, so it hadn’t been running the whole time. Of course, that meant it might not start again, she thought ruefully.
She looked at the man coming back toward her with the little red bag in his hand. She wasn’t alone anymore though, so she wasn’t worried.
“Sit.” He pointed to the open car door, and she moved forward, sitting sideways so she still faced him.
He knelt down in front of her. “I’m Adam,” he said.
Warmth settled into the pit of her stomach. “I know. I listened to what you said to the officer. I’m Olivia,” she said, holding out a hand. “Doctor Olivia Hamilton.”
He nodded, his lips twitching at the corners as he took her hand in his large one. “Hello, Olivia.”
Neither said anything for a moment, they just looked at each other, the heat of his touch sending warm lightning bolts up her arm and straight to her lady bits.
His eyes weren’t as dark as she’d originally thought. They were more of a medium brown or amber, with streaks of gold through them. Like a good quality whiskey.
He was good quality. She knew it instinctively. Not just because he’d come to her rescue, but because he’d stayed instead of chasing after the runner, and because when he looked at her, as he was looking at her right then, she knew he saw her.
It was as if he looked right past the shell of her flesh and blood and saw deep inside. When he reached up with his other hand and cupped her cheek, rubbing a gentle thumb across her sore, scrapped cheekbone, everything inside her came loose.
Her spine softened, and her skin chilled everywhere except where he touched her. A trembling started deep inside and, before she knew it, tears filled her eyes. He moved forward slowly, pulling her into him gently until her face was buried against his warm neck, and she let herself fall apart while he held her.
“It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he crooned. “You were so brave, and strong, and smart. You fought like a little hellcat. That’s it, let it all go, now. I’m here.”
He was there. It didn’t matter that they were still in the middle of a parking lot. All that mattered were those strong arms around her and the warm hard body against hers, keeping the world at bay while the night’s events finally caught up with her, and she crashed. She knew what was happening to her was a natural physiological reaction to the stress of the incident and the adrenaline that had shot through her veins. She’d expected it to happen when she got home, safe inside her house with the doors locked and her own things surrounding her. Instead, all it had taken was one touch from this man.
It didn’t last long. Her tears dried quickly, and the trembling eased, but she was still reluctant to leave his arms. She pressed her nose against the side of his neck, breathing in the smell of saltwater and sweat. Without thinking, her tongue slipped out and she tasted him.
He stiffened and pulled back.
She wasn’t sure what he saw as his gaze roamed her face, but his eyes darkened, his heart beat pounded under the hand she still had on his chest—his well-muscled, hard, hot chest.
Oh, boy.
His hands left her back and gripped her shoulders, gently easing her away from him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Beauty.”
She settled back into the car seat and watched as he sifted through her small first aid kit. “Beauty?” she asked as he ripped open an alcohol pad.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” he said as he gently pressed the pad against the scrape high on her cheek. “You’re gonna be a bit bruised for a time though.”
“Do you mind?”
He stilled. When he met her gaze straight on, the fire there made her catch her breath. “I mind that you were hurt. A lot.”
She wanted to ask why. He didn’t know her; she was just some random woman he’d saved. Yet, something in his eyes warned her that now was not the time to press. As gentle as his touch was, there was a wild, unpredictable energy arching between them. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
You’ve never been attacked and then saved by a ridiculously hot stranger before either, she told herself. Get a grip, be a lady, and just stay quiet.
“How’s your vision?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“Excuse me?”
“Your vision,” he repeated. “Everything clear? Anything blurry? Spots dancing in front of your eyes?”
She smiled, understanding. “I’m fine. I did bang my head a bit when he took me down, but no concussion. Just a bit of a headache.”
He talked while he cleaned the scrapes on the side of her face that had bumped the pavement, his eyes coming back to hers often. “You’re probably going to feel a few more aches and pains tomorrow, too.”
She covered the hand he’d placed on her shoulder with hers. “He didn’t hit me,” she said. “He tackled me, and once we were on the ground, it became more of a wrestling match than anything.”
“Don’t,” he said firmly as he cupped her chin in his large hand. “Don’t minimize what just happened to you.”
He was right. She told the victims she counseled the same thing. Yet, now that the adrenaline crash was over, she really didn’t feel like a victim. She felt like a fighter, and she kind of liked it. So, she told him so.
Adam let go of her chin and shook his head, eyes full of admiration. “You’re amazing.”
Pride filled her, and she grinned. “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”
Sweet Jesus, he was in trouble.
Adam knew who he was, what he wanted, and what he was good at.
He was a hard man who wanted little more than to protect the vulnerable, and he was good at it. Some might disagree, since he hadn’t always been able to do so in the past, but he was just a man. Olivia looking at him like he was some kind of hero wreaked havoc
with his brain and his body.
He wanted nothing more than to take her home and carry her up to his bed, where he could alternately fuck her brains out and hold her safe in his arms, but that was not a smart move. Not only did she not know him at all, she was way out of his league. Smart and sexy, with an inner strength and fire that sucker punched him right in the gut. Christ, she’d just been attacked. He was a fucking asshole to even be thinking about sex around her right then, but fuck if he could help it. She’d fit perfect against his body, filling his arms with a softness that had long been missing from his life. She’d cried on his shoulder, and his heart had filled with a tenderness that was so foreign to him it had taken a minute to identify the emotion. Then she’d licked him.
That hot, wet tongue of hers just brushing against his skin was a sultry surprise that had made his dick swell and his heart pound. No problem identifying that emotion.
Get a fucking grip, man.
He swept some antiseptic cream over her cheek, brushed his thumb over her full bottom lip then pulled back. He lifted one foot up and brushed the gravel and sand from the bottom gently before sliding the shoe he’d grabbed from the floor of the car onto her foot. He did the same for the other foot then stood, zipping the small kit closed and stepping back from the car, and the woman who tempted him beyond reason.
“Done.”
She stood and looked at him. “Can I give you a ride home?”
No. No. Bad idea. “Where do you live?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Downtown, but I’ll drive you anywhere. I owe you at least that.”
Fuck. “I’m on East Sixth.”
What was he thinking? He was thinking they weren’t that far from each other, and he wanted to make sure she was good on the drive. Yeah, right. That’s what he was thinking.
An internal battle raged during the silent drive. He wanted her, and not just for one night either. Which was totally fucked. She was a doctor in designer clothes with a classy car and manners that spoke of high society. He was a gym rat and sex club owner who did the odd mercenary job for financial and emotional reasons. She was so far out of his league he was an idiot to even think of taking a swing.