Once Upon a Valentine

by Stephanie Bond

  He’d been an independent contractor—some might call him an adventurer, others might say tomb raider or even soldier of fortune—for a decade, having followed his uncle to South America when he was just eighteen. His uncle had been the best, and he’d taught Raine well. His number one rule? Once you take the job, you see it through to the very end. And he did. Always.

  Besides, he’d only been paid half of his fee. The rest wouldn’t cross his palm until she was safely home in Riverdale.

  So he’d found her, studied her, learned all he could.

  He knew she was beautiful, that was without doubt. And he knew she appealed to him on a deep, visceral level that he didn’t like to acknowledge, considering she was, after all, his responsibility…whether she knew that, or not.

  He also knew a brain lurked inside that sexy exterior. She was determined, persistent as a bloodhound. He knew she liked music but she couldn’t sing for shit, knew she didn’t care for pizza—bizarre—but had no problem scarfing canned ravioli—more bizarre. And he knew she had a thing for Disney movies—hence his knowledge of her singing abilities. (She sometimes went all Beauty-singing-to-the-Beast behind closed doors, through which he’d heard her.) Though, actually, that Disney thing made sense, given where she was from. Most Elatyrians were drawn to that stuff, if only so they could get all indignant about their history being fodder for an entire civilization’s amusement.

  One last thing he knew about Ashlynn Scott: someone was after her. Someone with enough money to hire serious muscle.

  Thankfully, he’d moved faster than Miss Nippy-Teeth and had gotten to the village ahead of her. Which was why he’d been here to stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life—the mistake being the shortening of that life by a lot of years.

  She continued to struggle. Twisting in his arms, she elbowed him in the gut, then kicked his shins. Though he had at least five inches in height on the woman, she had pointy elbows and wicked little feet. He was going to be bruised tomorrow.

  “Two of them are waiting for you in the tavern, another’s circling the village,” he snarled. “He’ll be coming around that corner in about thirty seconds. Now will you please stay still?”

  She froze, twisting her head to stare up at him. The full moonlight brought out the deep, midnight-blue of her eyes and the utter mistrust on her face. She looked at him as though he was a cobra who’d offered to pluck out a splinter with his front teeth.

  “I’m trying to help you,” he mumbled, quickly shifting his gaze. He didn’t particularly want to notice how blue those eyes were. Or think about how delicious those perfectly curved lips might taste. Or how silky her long, honey-brown hair felt, draping over his forearm.

  Nor did he want to see just how much lovelier her heart-shaped face was up close…even if she did look ready to impale him on the nearest handy tree limb. He’d seen her on Earth, but never this close. Most of the time, he’d had to make do with listening to her through the walls of a cheap hotel room, his imagination filling in that which his senses hadn’t yet beheld.

  He knew now that his imagination hadn’t come close to the real woman now pressed against his body. And Raine was a very imaginative guy. Especially when it came to the mysterious Ms. Ashlynn Scott of Riverdale.

  Hearing the scrape of boots on cobblestone, Raine drew her down into a crouch and breathed a word into her ear. “Watch.”

  Right on schedule, a burly thug with a wicked knife strapped to his hip trudged around the nearest corner. Ashlynn stiffened. Even with his hand clapped over her mouth, she still managed to make a sound. “Mmph....”

  Reckless woman. Raine couldn’t tighten his hand any further and tried to think of another way to keep her from calling out. One immediately came to mind—he’d fantasized about that, too, during those long, quiet nights when he’d listened to her through the wall and tried to imagine what she wore to bed. And what she didn’t. But he immediately discounted the idea of kissing her: he liked his lips and tongue too much and he’d lay money she would bite him if he tried it.

  Instead, he rose, dragging her with him, and moved backward, pulling her deeper into the shadows. When they’d gained another few yards distance, he whispered, “He’s a Hunter and you’re his prey. Call for help and we’re both in trouble.”

  She nodded once, then directed her attention toward the real threat—the Hunter. He looked entirely out of place in this bucolic village, the sneer on his face saying he was looking for a fight. Or looking to kill somebody soft and pretty. Bastard.

  Said bastard paused before turning the corner, looking toward the trees. Though Raine was sure they couldn’t be seen since they were well hidden in the shadows of the forest, he did feel his heart thud harder in his chest.

  He didn’t really fear the guy with the knife. He only wondered if he could take him out before the man’s two friends emerged from the tavern. Three might prove a bit challenging, especially if the woman he was trying to protect decided to cut and run the second his back was turned. Then he’d just have to find her again. Here. Where he was out of his element. Sure, he had ties to Elatyria, but he was Earth-born and -bred and seldom took jobs on this side of the reality line.

  The armed man hesitated. His head tilted back and he inhaled deeply, as if he could smell something—his prey? Raine briefly wondered if the thug was an animal in more than the figurative sense. But considering the moon was full, he discounted that worry. If the brute were wolfish, he’d be a lot hairier right now.

  Then, with a frown, the knife-wielding Hunter turned and resumed his patrol. After a dozen steps, he turned past another building and headed away, down the next cobbled street, his footsteps finally disappearing into the night.

  “Whew,” he whispered. “Close one.”

  Funny, though—that thudding in Raine’s chest didn’t stop right away. In fact, as the woman he was holding sagged back in pure, visible relief, he’d have to say it sped up even more. Because, she was now pressed harder against him—her thighs meeting his, her curvy backside brushing his groin.

  She felt good. Too good. He had hoped she wouldn’t, had hoped his deep, immediate attraction to her wouldn’t be a problem, considering he’d already decided she was a pain in his ass. From the moment he’d found her, he’d figured she was the kind of goody-goody he couldn’t stand, all righteous and holier-than-thou, who would surely look down her nose at a guy like him.

  She was the purist, the haughty researcher, the historian.

  He was the renegade who wasn’t allowed back in some countries, had people after him in his own and who had four words, Raine Fowler: Odd Jobs, printed on his calling card.

  She’d call him an opportunistic scavenger.

  He preferred to think of himself as a man of adventure.

  But none of that mattered a damn right now. Because, this man of adventure was suddenly picturing the erotic adventures he’d like to have with the woman pressed so provocatively against him. He wished he hadn’t let his thoughts travel down the werewolf path, because the way she was positioned, it would be far too easy to drop them both to their knees and take her from behind until they howled at the full moon overhead.

  “Hell,” he muttered, feeling his body react to his mind’s imaginings—a far too frequent occurrence when it came to her.

  “If I let you go, are you going to stay quiet?” he asked. He didn’t entirely trust her, but figured he should release her before she noticed his reaction. Besides, it appeared the danger had passed, for now.

  She nodded once. Raine lowered his hand and took a good-for-his-sanity step back. When she drew a shaky hand to her mouth, he wondered if he’d hurt her. Not that he was going to apologize—he had very likely just saved her life.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to scream, I was just startled when I saw him.”

  “It’s okay. He obviously didn’t hear anything.”

  “Who is he?” she whispered, her breaths sounding choppy.

  “Somebody who’s been waiti
ng here for you to come back across the border. Your description’s all over the village. They’re saying you came through a month ago.”

  She swore softly under her breath, as if both believing him and being immediately frustrated by the revelation.

  “Now, how about we don’t wait here for his two buddies to come out and help him look. Let’s head back into the forest.”

  She hesitated, indecision written on her face. He might have just saved her, but she still didn’t know him from Adam.

  He stuck out his hand. “Raine Fowler.”

  She eyed his hand warily, then, as if it pained her to release her ten-fingered grip on the travel bag she carried, extended one of her own. “Ashlynn Scott.”

  “I know.”

  She yanked her hand away. “How do you know?” Then her gaze narrowed further. “And how did you know where to find me?”

  “Sorry, lady, but I’ve seen sloths that move faster than you. I followed you across the border, then moved ahead of you and got here almost an hour ago. After doing some scouting, I backtracked to where I figured you’d be showing up.”

  “You were following me?”

  “Yeah, lucky for you.”

  Hearing a loud laugh back in the village, he grabbed her elbow and half pushed, half led her back the way she’d come, seeking the sanctuary of the deep forest.

  His move apparently caught her by surprise. She took several steps, then stopped suddenly. Raine bumped into her, his mouth landing against that thick hair, his leg slipping between hers from behind. Worst of all, his groin mashed against her sexy ass.

  He wished he could say he was gentleman enough not to enjoy the hell out of it. Again. He was, however, gentleman enough not to take advantage of it. Again.

  Well, maybe gentleman wasn’t the right word—he was smart enough. This was the wrong place, the wrong time and the wrong woman. Though, something told him he was going to have a hard time remembering that, the longer he spent with her.

  She swung around and planted her feet, apparently oblivious to the whole man/woman vibe that was seriously messing with his head. Well, to be more accurate, both his heads.

  Get your big head back in the game, man.

  “I’m not going any farther without an explanation.”

  “Can we at least walk as I explain? I’d prefer not to get gangbanged by a trio of brainless slabs of muscle tonight.”

  She glanced back toward the village, which wasn’t far enough away to suit him. “Fine.”

  They walked. He explained. And tried not to bump into her again.

  “Like I said, I got here early enough to scout things out,” he said, keeping his voice low. “The locals say three strangers have been spreading the word that you’d be showing up tonight and have offered a reward to the first person who spots you and turns you on.” Realizing what he’d said, he called himself a jackass, but hoped she hadn’t spent enough time on Earth to learn all the lingo. “In. Turns you in.”

  “How did they…”

  Her gaze shifted up where, between the thick canopy of trees, glimmers of moonlight were visible. The moon was enormous over here—a clear sign the border was open.

  Seeing that brilliant sky, Raine wondered, not for the first time, if Elatyria’s plane of reality, which seemed just one or two degrees west of Earth’s, was also a bit closer to the heavens. Sometimes, it seemed that way.

  Then he remembered the downside of the place—little electricity, almost no indoor plumbing, no McDonald’s, but lots of dragons, giants and scurvy. No. Definitely not heaven.

  “So they knew I’d come tonight?”

  “Yep—the very first night the border opened. You did just what they thought you’d do.”

  She shook her head. “Stupid. I should have known they’d wait for me here. I’d expected them to try for me in the borderlands.”

  He almost tripped. “You knew there was somebody after you?”

  “Yes. I’ve seen that Hunter before.”

  The mind boggled. “And you still just…”

  “I needed to go to Earth. Foxglen is a half day closer to the border than any other village. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Not leaving a trail two lost kids could follow without the benefit of breadcrumbs would have been a good start.”

  He thought he might have heard her emit a tiny chuckle, but probably had imagined it.

  “I didn’t think they’d strike until they thought I had all four…”

  “All four what?”

  “You’re saying you don’t know?”

  “I don’t.”

  “But you do know my name, huh? How do I know you’re not one of them? This could be a scheme to get me to trust you.”

  Raine put his hands up, palms out. “Hey, you want to find out for yourself who’s a good guy and who’s a bad one, go right ahead. But, uh, just so you know, I didn’t get paid enough to put my life on the line. I’m not bailing you out twice.”

  A lie. He might not have been paid enough to risk his life, but he’d do it anyway. Always finish the job. Plus, he didn’t like big thugs who picked on defenseless women.

  The throbbing in his hand made him clarify that thought—almost defenseless women, with sharp teeth. God, something was seriously wrong with him that he found that so damned sexy.

  Her brow scrunched. “Paid? You mean…”

  “Yeah. Somebody hired me to watch over you.”

  “Who?”

  “Frankly, lady, that’s what I’d like to know. Just who are you, and what, exactly, are you up to?”

  Still sounding skeptical, she asked, “You want me to believe you don’t know why someone would be hunting me, or why someone else would hire you to protect me?”

  “I haven’t the slightest clue.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’ve been called a liar before.” He shrugged. “Considering I just saved your ass, though, maybe you ought to cut me a break.”

  She sucked in a surprised breath. “You’re from over there.”

  He knew what she meant. Most people here didn’t talk about Earth, just as most people on Earth didn’t talk about Elatyria. Considering he had roots in both worlds, he didn’t see the need to be coy about it. “I’ve been tracking you since Philadelphia.”

  Her eyes widened more as she stared searchingly at his face. Her beautiful lips parted, her breaths audibly moving over them. Then, with a gasp, she looked away, long lashes sweeping over her eyes. “I remember you,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

  He gaped, shocked that she’d seen him. “Seriously?” He must be losing his touch.

  “You were at the store right across the street from the motel, buying a big box of chocolate candy for your…what is that holiday called? Your valentine?”

  He sighed heavily. “My mom.” Given this case, he’d nearly forgotten the holiday was this week and had run out super early one morning to get a few gifts. He’d thought Ashlynn was still sound asleep in her hotel room. Apparently not. Shit.

  Interesting that she’d remember him. More interesting that she wouldn’t meet his eye. Hmm.

  “How long have you been following me?”

  “Long enough to know you’re in some kind of trouble.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she proclaimed, even as her arms tightened around the leather satchel she always carried, which was about the size and shape of a laptop case. It didn’t take a genius to know there was something in that bag she was desperate to protect and that it wasn’t a laptop, since Elatyria had that whole “no electricity” thing to deal with. While he wasn’t one to nose into other people’s business, if her precious cargo was making her a target for hired thugs, he’d like to know what it was. Especially because, as her temporary bodyguard, he was in the line of fire, too.

  “Well, thank you for your assistance,” she said. “And for warning me about the Hunters. But now that I’m aware of the situation, I really don’t need your help anymore. I’ll wait until dark
est night to go back to the village.”

  He barked a laugh. “You’re not going to Foxglen.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  He stopped and faced her. “I was hired to protect you.”

  “I didn’t ask for your protection,” she snapped.

  “No, you didn’t, but here I am. So why don’t you stop arguing and tell me what this is all about?”

  He moved in close. She quivered as he invaded her space.

  Raine took advantage of her distraction. Without hesitating, he reached out and grabbed the satchel from her. “Then you can fill me in on what’s in this bag.”

  2

  ASHLYNN MIGHT BE BOOKISH and she might have spent much of her life in classrooms and museums, but she was no coward. Thinking only of the piece of map, tucked securely inside her bag, she lunged at the annoyingly attractive stranger. Her hands fisted, she also lifted a knee sharply, aiming for his groin.

  “Oof,” he yelped when her knee came close to its target.

  “Give me that,” she snapped.

  The man was too tall for her. In spite of being in pain, he lifted the bag out of reach and spun away. When Ashlynn swung a fist at him, he caught it in his much bigger hand. “Hit me one more time, lady, and I’m going to forget I’m a gentleman.”

  “Nobody would mistake you for a gentleman!”

  “Insults, huh? Guess you really don’t want this back.”

  She ground her teeth in frustration. Then, remembering what he’d said, she glared at him. “You say you were hired to protect me?”

  He nodded warily, as if not trusting her now that she wasn’t trying to attack. “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think protection includes stealing my property.”

  “I don’t think whatever’s in this bag is your property.”

  She flushed a little. Because, while she had the best intentions and wanted to use the map to find the castle for its archeological benefits, she hadn’t exactly bought and paid for it—just the book inside which it had been carefully hidden. She’d found it, recognized it and bought it, without letting the seller know exactly what it was he was selling.