by Jan Springer
He held her close. Oh, so close. His body heat slammed into her like a furnace and his bristly cheek brushed erotically against the side of her face, making her feel as if they were chained together in an achingly seductive death dance.
Through the magical spell this man cast upon her, she felt the outline of something hard against the small of her back where he held her.
A gun? Yes! He was holding a gun!
Paralyzing panic burst into the forefront, gripping her insides with such mind-numbing terror, she almost bolted but his firm grasp on her waist anchored her.
She forced herself to breathe. To concentrate on what she should be doing to make him pay for everything he’d put her through. The bastard had finally come back. Returned to the scene of the crime.
And he knew she was alone!
She swallowed at the bile churning up her throat. The hot blood pounding in her head made her think of only one thing. Confronting this son of a bitch before he did her in. At least she’d die saying her peace.
She jumped in fright when his faceless voice suddenly asked, “Who are you?”
“Don’t play games with me!” Sara spat. “You know perfectly well who I am. Just do it!”
“What?” he gasped in surprise, a dangerous tenseness swooped through him.
“Finish the job. Get it over with. Put me out of my misery,” she cried.
“Listen, lady. I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Oh? And I’m imagining the gun pressing against my back? Go ahead, damn you, shoot me!”
She wanted to beat her fists against his muscular chest and cast out the demons of hatred and anger she’d been holding inside for so long. But he continued to hold her captive.
Her senses swirled as his masculine scent swarmed all around her. God, he smelled so good. A delicate combination of leather, spicy soap and a hint of tangy wood smoke.
She almost laughed. The guy was about to murder her and she liked the way he smelled?
She was nuts!
“Where would you like to start first? A bullet in the back?” she spat. “Pull the trigger. I dare you.” Hysteria sharpened her voice, but she couldn’t stop. She’d waited so long for this confrontation. “Or maybe you’d rather do it point blank between the eyes. That’s your specialty isn’t it? Right between the eyes. So you can see the pain a split second before the back of the brain gets splattered all over the walls.”
He didn’t say a word. His warm breath raked her face. His hold loosened a little. A tiny seed of hope bubbled somewhere in the back of her mind. She drew in a deep breath in an attempt to steady her racing heart. Maybe the murderer had a conscience after all? Maybe she could talk him out of killing her? And turn himself in?
Suddenly the shadow let go of her and her pulses roared with fear as she saw nothing but the gun in his hand, its one black eye gleamed hideously at her. Her fledgling hopes plummeted.
He was going to shoot her!
Right between the eyes, but she wouldn’t go down easily.
She prepared to nail him where the sun doesn’t shine when the stranger lowered his weapon and moved into the harsh beam of light spilling through the doorway.
“Easy,” he whispered softly. “I really won’t hurt you.”
For one brief, sweet moment, time stopped and Sara gazed directly into the most wonderful emerald green eyes she’d ever seen in her life. In that split second, she experienced the craziest idea she’d finally met her soul mate, the man of her dreams.
But something else haunted him. Something that made Sara jolt with recognition.
Confusion and pain shone in his eyes. Excruciating pain. Whether it was physical, emotional or spiritual, she couldn’t be sure. But he definitely gave her the impression he was living in the same some sort of hell she’d been living in, and he was desperately trying to find his way out of there.
The thought that she had something in common with this madman sobered her and she abruptly sized up her opponent, gathering any information she could use to her advantage.
He was a big man. Strong. Well-built. Wide shoulders donned in a tattered black leather jacket covered in mud. Slim, sexy hips with tight, dirty blue jeans, which hugged his muscular legs like a cozy glove.
He appeared to be around her age. Most of his pale face was camouflaged by a good week’s growth of scruffy, dark beard and a mustache. The rest lingered beneath a bounty of various sizes of scratches and bruises.
She found herself staring dumbly at the drying crust of crimson streaking from beneath the tangled hair draped over his right temple. The blood caked his slightly swollen eye, dribbled over his bruised cheek and disappeared into the thick mat of his mangy beard. The way he swayed slowly back and forth made her realize he was hurt.
Bad.
Like any wounded animal, he was extremely dangerous. And unpredictable.
“Do you know me?” The soothing sound in his voice had disappeared, replaced with a raw tension that frightened Sara.
Quickly she backed away from his menacing figure.
The kitchen countertop crashed painfully into the small of her back, stopping her dead in her tracks. With trembling hands she reached out behind her in a desperate effort to clutch the countertop for support as her paralyzed knees threatened to buckle.
“Sure I know you,” she said and swallowed the bitter fear threatening to suck away her remaining strength.
His eyes took on a flickering of hope. “Who am I? What’s my name?”
Was he kidding? Confused? Crazy?
Desperation tinged his voice and she sensed the fear overwhelming him. Compassion edged away her fright, but she quickly tempered it when she spotted the gun dangling in his trembling hand.
Plans quickly formulated in her mind. “I know who you are,” she spat as her frantic fingers scoured the countertop behind her for the steak knives she kept in the knife holder. If only she could get to one of those knives. She’d use it to gouge out his eyes or stab him in the ear.
Something cold and velvety brushed against her fingertips. The rat! She could throw the rat at him! Surprise him. Give her a second to get away. That’s all the time she needed.
She swallowed hard and willed herself to pick up the dead animal. But her hand just wouldn’t cooperate. She continued groping madly behind her and prayed the darkness would conceal her search.
“I’ve told the police your description,” she lied. “They’ll be looking for you if something happens to me.”
He recoiled in horror and truly looked shocked. “I told you I won’t hurt you, I just—” He stopped suddenly, clutched his gun hand to his chest and bowled over, cutting loose with a series of raspy coughs. The sounds of which led Sara to again feel a momentary compassion for the man.
She pushed her sympathy aside and shot like a bullet past him and through the open doorway, bursting out onto the veranda into the fury of the storm. Pouring rain arrowed beneath the porch, poking her with icy fingers.
Suddenly a fiery bolt of lightning forked out of the heaving black sky stopping her cold in her tracks. It zeroed in on the romance tree as if it was a heat-seeking missile, hitting with an explosion like nothing she’d ever imagined could exist.
Brilliant white sparks sizzled wildly in every direction making her catch her breath. Above the shrieking wind and pelting rain, she barely heard the sharp cracking sound of the tree breaking.
A tingling sensation darted up her spine making the hairs on her neck stand in warning. Her head snapped upward. To her horror, the enormous tree swayed dangerously. Then it tipped precariously and began its descent. It hurtled toward her home.
And toward her!
She stood stock-still, mesmerized by the immenseness of the tree. Could this be the way it would end? Struck dead by Peppermint Creek Inn’s romance tree?
God, she missed Jack. Missed the way he’d laughed, the way she’d felt so safe and loved in his arms. Maybe it would be better this way.
Maybe—
Two strong hands curled over her shoulders and hurled her back through the open doorway as if she was a mere a rag doll, shoving her quickly onto the kitchen floor.
Then he flew on top of her, groaning as he landed. Squashing her beneath his heavy weight.
At that instant, a tremendous crash shook the house. She screamed as glass shattered and wood splintered. Automatically her eyes closed and her hands flew up to protect her head. It was all over in a split second.
Eerie silence followed.
She opened her eyes to complete utter blackness.
The truck’s headlight beams were gone and most likely her truck, too. With a sinking heart, she realized her only means of a quick escape had vanished.
He rolled off her with a groan.
Lightning flickered through the windows and she saw him sitting close by. Fresh blood trickled down the right side of his face. His lips moved. He was talking to her. Through the noise of her crashing heart she barely made out his words.
“Are you okay?”
Was she dreaming? Had he cut her throat? And now she lay on the floor, her lifeblood draining from her and he was asking her if she was okay?
“Sweetness! Are you hurt?” his ragged voice seemed louder, more insistent as the noise in her ears subsided.
Mentally she searched her body for any pain and felt nothing. “I…I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?”
“Y-yes.” She fought back the tears of shock blistering sharply against the back of her eyes.
“You are one lucky lady. C’mon let me help you up.” His white teeth flashed as he smiled in the lightning flickers and then he extended his hand toward her.
Sara hesitated only a moment before sliding her hand into his outstretched palm. He pulled her to her feet.
Without warning, the shakes hit. Full force.
Her legs wobbled.
Reaching out to him for support, her hand wrapped tightly around his upper arm. Muscles greeted her. Enormous muscles. Firm and unyielding.
Even through the thick, cool fabric of the leather jacket, she could feel them. God, but the man was built.
Something hot and wild stirred deep inside her womb. A sexual craving she hadn’t felt for a long time. Something she thought she’d never feel again.
Explosive visions ripped through her mind, visions of this dangerous man wrapping his arms around her naked body, kissing her face and lips, fucking her senseless.
She shook her head of the unwanted thoughts. To allow these wonderful feelings to flood throughout her body was wrong. Very wrong.
“Hey. Take it easy. I said I wouldn’t hurt you. Really. Everything is going to be all right.”
The soft way he looked at her made her believe him…that is until she spotted the metallic glint strike off the item dangling from his wrist.
Squinting through the muddy darkness, she tensed. An awful shiver crept up the full length of her spine.
Oh, shit! The guy was wearing handcuffs! Hysteria edged into her mind again.
For God’s sake! He was an escaped criminal!
“What do you want from me? Why are you here?”
“I need your help.”
Was this guy seriously demented? “My help? Just like that. You stick a gun in my face, scare me to death and now you want my help? No way! I’ve had enough. I’m out of here.”
She rushed past him and through the open doorway.
Shards of lightning blinked off and on through the sky illuminating the disarray compliments of the fallen tree.
Instantly she knew she couldn’t get around the wreckage, not unless she went back into the kitchen, past him and out the door at the rear of the house. And right now she didn’t want to go inside.
Back to him.
The lightning had parted the giant beech, as if God himself had swung an ax through the wild heavens slicing her tree perfectly in half. Half the tree had fallen into the parking lot, burying her truck beneath the debris. The other half had crushed the stairs, the entire wheelchair ramp, part of the wooden railing and a large runaway branch had ripped away the rest of the glass from the already broken windowpane.
All this in the exact spot where only moments earlier, she’d stood watching in horror as the tree had hurtled toward her.
The full impact of what had just happened sunk through the layers of her tattered emotions.
Shock. Anger. Finally, confusion. If he hadn’t grabbed her and pulled her out of the way, she would have been dead.
The sobering thought struck a massive blow to her midsection. Her stomach convulsed violently. A cold sweat blistered across her forehead.
Inhaling a deep breath of cool Spring air, she welcomed the sweet aroma of freshly broken wood into her lungs and continued to stare at the remnants of Peppermint Creek’s once beautiful romance tree. Its gnarled twisted fingers desperately reached out to her, screaming for her help.
She knew she wouldn’t be the only one upset about the tree, for it held numerous initials and hearts from many people who came repeatedly to stay at the Peppermint Creek Inn.
She sniffled back a salty tear and felt her heart beating happily against her chest. A strange hushed tingle of excitement took hold of her cold, shaking body. A small giggle bubbled from her trembling lips as a more pleasant thought struck.
She was alive. She’d cheated death. Survived another tragedy. As abruptly as the laughter had erupted, it quickly died in her throat.
The stranger! Moments ago he’d threatened her life with the gun. And then he’d swiftly turned around and saved it. He wasn’t the shadow after all. The shadow would have killed her, or so she imagined.
So, who was he? What kind of help did he want from her? Blinking back hot tears, she hugged her shivering body and waited for the shakes to subside. And she dug deep down inside herself, gathering some of the courage she knew she’d need to face this sexy stranger again.
Chapter Two
Wincing at the blazing pain searing through his lower back and the massive headache battering his brain, he slumped heavily into the nearest chair.
Shit!
He shouldn’t have scared her like that with the gun. Simply knocking on the door and walking in as nonchalant as possible would have been sufficient.
Earlier when he’d first spotted the house and the storm had first broken—he’d sought refuge on the swinging porch chaise. He’d fallen asleep, or more appropriately passed out. He’d slept hard, real hard, totally oblivious to the downpour hammering on the porch roof.
Eventually a noise had sunk through the soothing layers of sleep and he’d awoken and seen the two pinpricks of headlights bursting through the storm. Fearing the cops had found him, he’d quickly scrambled for cover to the side of the house. Then he’d seen the pretty woman sitting behind the wheel of the truck.
It seemed like an eternity that he watched her, mesmerized by her natural beauty. Instincts told him he’d seen her before. Somewhere.
But where? When?
He couldn’t remember anything before last night.
Why he wasn’t panicking about not remembering anything was anyone’s guess, but for some reason, he felt as if he might be better off not knowing his past.
What he did remember was the woman stepping out of her truck and the fantastic way her long auburn hair had billowed around her heart-shaped face in the rising wind. In the blinking lightning she’d looked like a goddess coming out of the fiery heavens to fetch him and he’d almost stepped out to greet her, but a silent warning to be very careful had stopped him cold. Taking no chances, he’d pulled out the gun and followed her inside.
When he’d first seen her slamming down the phone, her cute face twisted in fury, he’d wanted to take her into his arms, to comfort her, to kiss away her anger but then she’d seen him standing there in the doorway and panic had raged in her eyes. He’d known she was about to scream, to run away from him and he’d grabbed her, instantly drowning in her wonderful, sw
eet, peppermint-scented body. He’d found himself transfixed by her sparkling eyes, yet it was the seductive curve of her rosebud lips that sent a scream of primal sexual hunger searing through his cock, making him want to dig his fingers into her tumbling mass of silky hair and kiss her ‘til she begged for more. He’d almost done it, but thankfully self-control had prevailed, and he’d stupidly let her get away and almost allowed her to be killed by that damned tree.
When he’d seen the lightning strike, time had quite literally frozen stiff. Then the tree began toppling toward them and he’d been paralyzed by a hideous fear. Not for his safety, but for hers.
Thankfully, something had snapped inside him, and he’d felt himself inch toward her.
He’d wanted to scream. Yell at her to move. But the words had remained trapped in his paralyzed throat.
She’d just stood there, stiff against the railing. Mesmerized by the spiraling timber. As if she’d been waiting for death to strike.
Her earlier words hovered in the blackness of his mind like a heavy dark cloud. Put me out of my misery, she’d said. Had she in fact been waiting for the clutches of death to take her?
He’d grabbed her violently. Too damn violently. But he’d been so scared. He’d pulled her away from the ugly clutches of death. Hurling her toward safety. And best of all—back into his life.
“Thanks.” Her soft feminine voice made him jump clear out of his chair. The unexpected movement sent excruciating pain sizzling throughout his back. He cursed under his breath. He hadn’t heard her come back. Yet somehow he knew she would return.
She stood in the open doorway. Wild wind blew her auburn tresses every which way. Her short ski jacket provided hardly any protection against the bleak elements.
He cocked a teasing eyebrow.
“Thanks for what?”
“For saving my life!” she said suddenly angry, as if surprised he’d already forgotten what he’d done for her.
“My pleasure.”
“Was it?” she snapped.
Her voice bristled like a porcupine but the memory of her soft body curving warmly beneath him on the kitchen floor was still fresh in his mind. The intense fire shooting throughout him as he’d covered her made his balls and cock stiffen painfully against the god-awful prison of his tightening jeans.