by Laina Kenney
“I might help him.”
Avelyn frowned and shifted in her seat, but she couldn’t pry her eyes open. That couldn’t be Sam. That voice sounded far too bloodthirsty for the image he projected of an amiable urban cowboy.
“She’s not quite asleep, yet.”
Ah, that was Sam’s voice.
The voices settled into a peaceful conversation about training horses. Soon a friendly argument ensued about an old truck that Sam kept calling Methuselah, to lazy protests from his brother. Avelyn drifted off into a deep sleep where she dreamed of running footsteps and cold Dublin rain.
Chapter 4
Sam watched Locke stalk into the store and suppressed the urge to laugh. Locke was acting like a shopping trip was worse than facing down a lunatic with a gun or clinging to the back of an enraged bull for eight seconds, two things that he knew Locke had already done more than once.
He had told Sam in clear terms that he was “unsuitable and uninterested” in picking out clothes for a young woman, but Sam was betting that Locke would feel differently about it once he got going. Once he got his hands on the smooth fabrics and started thinking about those garments on the sweet woman in their backseat, his opinion would change. For all his gruff denials, his brother was a man deeply affected by beauty in all its forms. Long flowing hair and a flashing smile got his attention every time.
Sam snickered. Hell, Locke would probably end up buying a dress for the girl. Locke had no idea how predictable he was when it came to women. Sam was banking on it.
He licked his lips. One kiss from this woman had fired Sam up from head to toe. He was hard and aching, and he wanted more. He wanted to keep her.
* * * *
Locke walked into the store and looked around then headed for the women’s clothing department. He couldn’t quite believe that Sam was the one staying in the car with the sleeping Avelyn while he was shopping for clothing. Sam should be doing this.
Locke blew out a breath. No way would he be able to find the right sizes or styles. It was a mission set up to fail. Shopping was his personal idea of hell.
He approached the first woman he saw wearing the store’s signature blue vest.
“Women’s clothing,” he stated. “I need two complete changes of clothes for a young woman, slender, and about this high.” He put his hand on his chest to indicate his estimation of her diminutive height.
The older woman looked at him.
“It might be easier if she came in herself to try things on,” she said.
Locke grimaced. “She’s asleep in the back seat. I didn’t want to wake her.”
The store clerk asked, “What size is she?”
He thought of Avelyn’s too-slender frame. “I’m not sure. She’s almost thin. What size would a college girl wear?” Locke knew immediately from the look on the woman’s face that it was the wrong thing to say.
“A college girl!”
“Uh, no, she’s not that young. Well, she’s young, but she’s small. She’s a small adult.”
A suspicious frown crossed the clerk’s face.
Locke was annoyed with himself. Surely he wasn’t going to let himself be intimidated by a clerk in a department store.
“Never mind,” he said and turned away as another woman approached the clerk.
He left them behind and moved through the department with a purpose, draping clothes over his arm as he went. A pair of skinny jeans and a pink and white Western-cut shirt came first, then a couple of small T-shirts in white followed by a white cotton sundress with a matching knit sweater. He grabbed a few more items from different racks and moved on.
He looked around and spied the racks of satin and lace in a stunning variety of colors. It seemed too intimate to be choosing undergarments for a young woman he had met an hour ago, but the tiny scraps of fabric lured him closer, and with a pounding heart, he thumbed through the choices thinking of Avelyn’s slender curves and pale skin. His cock was half-hard already just thinking of her.
He bypassed the purple satin, frowning again at the reminder of her bruises. That Irish son of a bitch who had beaten her had better stay on the other side of the ocean. If Locke or Sam ever laid hands on him, he would have bruises to match Avelyn’s and a few more besides.
And if Conn caught him, he’d be dead. Conn fit in very well in Texas.
Locke continued to search and finally found what he was looking for, a tiny bra and matching panties in a soft peach silk that made his mouth water at the thought of seeing it on the slender young woman sleeping outside in his brother’s car. His cock throbbed as he rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers. The shimmering peach color would make her pale skin glow and set off the fiery highlights in her hair.
Damn, she was making a poet out of him.
She was a pretty little thing, even with her injuries, and Locke was a man who always noticed a beautiful female.
He passed a display of sunglasses and had the sudden realization that a displaced British national would need more than just new clothes to survive in the unfamiliar climate of Texas. He grabbed a pair of the sunglasses that reminded him of the stars of old Hollywood.
He headed over to another department and picked up a bottle of sunscreen, some peach body lotion, and a travel pack of toiletry items. In the shoe department he found a little pair of stretchy white sandals in a medium size and some soft flats. He added a pair of frilly white ankle socks to his armload just because they made him smile.
Waiting at the checkout counter, he grabbed an assortment of snacks, soft drinks, and fruit juices in case Avelyn woke up and felt hungry before they hit San Antonio.
This shopping thing wasn’t so bad. He had a large pile of clothing and other merchandise on the counter, and the basics were covered. Locke didn’t even wince at the price. He paid for his purchases and left the store whistling. Mission accomplished.
* * * *
Sam glanced back involuntarily. Avelyn was still out, wrapped in that heavy knitted shawl. Sweat was beading on his forehead in the confines of the car even with the AC on, but her face was just now beginning to get some color back. They didn’t have the details yet, but the woman had been through hell, no question.
He licked his lips thinking of her kiss. He was hard and aching, and he wanted more of whatever she would give him.
Her breathing was deep and even. Sam reached for the tube of arnica ointment. He was quiet and slow, and squeezed just a little onto a cotton handkerchief. He leaned over the back of the seat and tenderly smoothed some of the ointment over the skin of her swollen cheek.
He was careful to keep his hands light, even though the sight of bruises on that foxy little face enraged him until his hands shook. He concentrated and took his time spreading the ointment. It lifted some of the makeup off onto the handkerchief, exposing the darkness of a huge bruise.
The poor thing didn’t even stir. A full stomach after an adrenaline crash really took a toll, and he didn’t think a young woman with innocent eyes would have the experience necessary to fight off those effects.
Sam didn’t know all the facts of her journey, but he could see she was injured and knew she had done well to get to safety and call her Uncle Conn.
Tenderness welled up inside him. Now she could rest.
He thought of her mischievous spirit in the airport, after traveling in fear for hours, and his teeth ground together. If danger had followed her across the ocean, Sam and Locke would meet it head-on. He wanted to destroy anything that threatened her.
There was a tap on his window, and he turned to see Locke holding two gigantic bags.
Sam rolled down his window.
“What all did you buy?” he asked in disbelief.
Locke shrugged and went around the car. He shoved the crinkly bags over onto Sam’s lap and got in.
Sam grappled with the unwieldy sacks before finally getting them settled. When he peered into one bag and saw a sundress and sweater set, he couldn’t hold back a grin.
; Locke glanced over at Sam before he pulled out of the parking space. “What?”
“You bought her a dress,” Sam said. He whistled softly and stuck his hand in one of the bags. “Silk. And body lotion? Just how many pairs of shoes are in here? Look at all this. Man, you must really like her.”
“Shut up.”
Locke looked so uncomfortable Sam took pity on his brother.
“I like her, too. With any luck she’ll take a shine to Texas and want to stay. She tastes like every dream I ever had.” He glanced sideways. “Every dream you ever had, too, I bet.”
“Conn would dismember us with his bare hands if we seduce that girl and do even half of what you’re thinking.” Locke growled. “Even if her kiss says she’s interested.”
Sam licked his lips and glanced into the back seat.
“It would be worth it.”
Locke groaned, and Sam smiled. Whatever he was thinking, Locke was thinking it, too.
Now to convince the girl.
Chapter 5
Avelyn woke slowly. She was warm, hot even, and her face was buried in scratchy wool. A hand was stroking her hair.
She shifted and gasped. Her eyes flew open with the pain of moving.
“Easy, easy,” Locke said. “You’ve been sleeping for a while, and you’ve likely stiffened up some. Let me help you.”
He slid his arms around her and helped her into a sitting position in the cramped backseat. She gritted her teeth to hold in a cry of pain.
“Sorry, honey. I know it hurts. We can’t give you any more pain medication, yet.” He checked his watch. “Not for another hour anyway.”
“It’s not bad,” she said. She was surprised to find that it was true. At least her face wasn’t throbbing like it had been.
“It still looks painful. We’ll get some more arnica cream on it after our medic takes a look.”
Avelyn frowned. He must think she had used the cream.
“I didn’t put any of that cream on it,” Avelyn admitted.
Locke’s mouth turned up at one corner. It brightened his eyes and changed his whole appearance. She couldn’t look away from the strong male beauty of his face. The scars did nothing to take away from his potent appeal.
“Well, Sam got some on you when you were out,” Locke said. “You’ll feel a lot better in the morning if you let him at you with the horse liniment, too. He’s done that to me a few times when I got bruised up flying off a bull and was too damned stubborn to listen to reason. He’s sneaky, and he always thinks he knows best.”
But he was still smiling. She found herself smiling too as he helped her out of the car. He looked so forbidding with those scars on his face, but that sweet, bashful smile got her heart racing. She had a real weakness for a man who was strong enough to be kind.
“You about ready to see the medic, honey?”
Frowning hurt too much, and Avelyn smoothed out her expression, but he had already seen.
“Don’t panic. Our medic is a great lady, Lynn Patton. She’s got four daughters and four granddaughters. You can tell her anything, since she’s probably already heard it at least once. She’ll treat you right and get you to the doc if you need it.” He stroked her hair once. “I’ll be right outside the door, and so will Sam. You won’t be alone.”
Her throat closed around a whimper, and she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his neck. How had he known?
After a moment of hesitation, he cuddled her close and patted her back a little too hard while she clung to him and tried to control a sudden case of the shakes.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not a usually a crier,” she said and sniffed.
“I’m glad,” he said, and she could tell he meant it.
Avelyn laughed, as he had probably intended, and accepted the handkerchief he handed her.
After wiping her eyes and nose, she shoved the handkerchief into her pocket.
“I’m fine,” she said firmly. She was trying to convince herself as much as Locke.
“You sure as hell are, honey,” he agreed, letting his eyes roam over her figure. He pushed his hat back on his head with one finger and gave her a grin and a wink. “Come on.”
She took a deep breath and followed him into the building to where Sam was talking with several other large, tanned men. They all turned and looked her up and down as she passed by.
If she was honest with herself, she was looking at them, too. She had yet to see a normal-sized man in Texas. To be sure, there were handsome men in Ireland and England, but she was becoming convinced that the state of Texas bred a species of males all its own. If she wasn’t careful, she would never want to leave.
Locke guided her to an open doorway down the hall, but he hung back when she entered.
“I’ll get your things from the car,” he said and left.
Avelyn was alone again. She couldn’t feel anxious, however, when she saw the warm, grandmotherly woman who waited for her.
Lynn Patton spoke gently and worked efficiently, and Avelyn was thoroughly checked over in a few minutes. The older woman informed her that in a few short days her bruises would be gone and her sore muscles would be back to normal. And that she should find someone to talk to about what had happened, or almost happened, to her. Lynn told her that talking about a trauma let the poison out.
In the meantime, the medic had the audacity to suggest over-the-counter painkillers and a double-cowboy massage to improve her condition quickly. The outrageous suggestion was accompanied by such a cheerful smile that Avelyn couldn’t suppress a grin.
Avelyn thanked her. When she thought of the recommended massage, she couldn’t help but think of Sam and Locke McCann. She felt her body flush with heat at the racy images forming in her mind. Four big hands, tanned dark by the Texas sun, stroking her skin, roaming over her pale breasts and down—she sighed involuntarily.
“You’ll find soap, shampoo, and towels in that little bathroom. Help yourself to a hot shower before you go. It’ll go a long way toward easing those tense muscles. And being clean always makes a woman feel better,” Lynn said and left the office with a smile.
Avelyn entered the tiny bathroom and started to strip immediately. She dropped her disgusting clothes on the floor with a heartfelt sigh, turned on the water as hot as it would go, and stepped in.
Heaven.
She lathered up with the lily-scented soap, humming to herself. She was enjoying the feeling of the water sliding over her, washing away every bad memory.
She was rinsing out shampoo with her head under the spray and shrieked when the door opened.
She slid one hand up to push the heavy fall of hair from her eyes so that she could see, and the warmth of Locke’s gaze followed every move. She flushed, and her hands fluttered in front of her in a belated attempt to cover herself.
“I’m not looking—much,” Locke said gruffly. “But don’t cover yourself on my account, darlin’. Everything I can see is gorgeous.”
Avelyn heard his words with a sense of wonder, and her hands fell to her sides. Maybe Locke was as attracted to her as she was to him. Her pulse picked up speed. Well, both Locke and his brother.
He cleared his throat.
“I thought you wouldn’t want to put on your clothes from before, and I bought you some on the way here. They’re in this bag.”
He waved a huge bag in the air before setting it on top of the tiny sink.
She could see him through the glass and saw the moment when he noticed her clothes on the floor. He stared at the pile of clothing on the tile. Her panties and bra were on the top of her shirt, and his Adam’s apple bobbed once as if he swallowed hard.
“You bought me new clothes?” she asked in surprise. “When did you do that?”
“When you were sleeping in the back seat of Sam’s car,” he said and looked up straight into her eyes.
Avelyn watched him lick his lips and felt an answering jolt low in her belly.
“Thank you,” she said when she co
uld trust her voice. “That was very thoughtful.”
His eyes travelled down her body, following the trail of suds, lingering for long, heated seconds on her breasts before moving lower. His gaze settled at the juncture of her thighs, and his nostrils flared as if he was trying to catch an elusive scent. His hands clenched into fists, and he took a step closer.
His eyes burned her flesh, started her heart thumping and her blood singing. Avelyn pressed her hand to the glass to steady herself.
She felt vulnerable, overexposed, standing naked in front of a man who was fully dressed. The glass between them was no barrier to his appreciative gaze.
Avelyn didn’t know quite what she expected him to do, but he didn’t make a move. There was open admiration on his scarred face, a dark hunger in his stunning navy-blue eyes, but he stood still and just watched her.
Her body arched involuntarily toward him, and her small breasts pushed up against the cool glass.
She blinked, and he was closer. His shoulders bunched and rippled under his T-shirt, and his hands rose to cover her breasts through the glass. The leashed intensity in him made her yearn for another taste of his kiss.
The vivid concentration of his stare on her body made her pussy clench. His hands traced her shape on the glass, and the image of a woman appeared on the steamed outer surface.
It was strangely erotic, almost mesmerizing to watch his hands move, drawing sensuous spirals on the familiar feminine contours. Her skin tingled in the corresponding areas even though he wasn’t truly touching her.
The heat rose in his eyes as he created his fantasy art on the glass between them, and her body moved subtly to follow the path of his hands. Her nipples were stiff against the wall of the shower compartment. She rubbed them back and forth, but the glass was smooth, and the feeling wasn’t enough. His hands pressed on the outer surface, but it was just a tease, pushing her hunger higher.
She wanted Locke’s hands, his mouth, maybe even his teeth. She wanted something she had never had before, something she didn’t even have a name for, and she wanted it from this man.