Riley kicked the driver’s side door open and his blood thundered through his ears. She stumbled out of the car, landing in the shallow water. He skidded to a stop and water splashed his thighs as he knelt to pull her into his arms. He ran his hands over her body, searching for injuries. It was hard to tell in the dark, but nothing major grabbed his attention. Relief closed around him, smothering him. Her arms curled around his neck.
“Ethan.” Her voice broke on a sob. He lifted her in his arms and climbed up the side of the ditch. She trembled against him, her teeth chattered in the torrents of rain. He juggled her weight while he opened the passenger door of his truck. He sat her in the seat, and his gaze raked over her face. A trickle of blood started at her hairline, tiny scratches littered her face, and her lip was swollen .
Anger coursed through him. That sonofabitch was going to pay.
“My purse is still in the car,” she breathed, but her fingers didn’t loosen their hold on his shirt. He eased her hands off him and onto her lap.
“I’ll grab it.” He leaned over her to crank the heat. Her hands grasped his shoulders.
“He’s going to come back.” Her chin quivered, her eyes glazed over with tears. An iron fist formed in his chest. He held her face between his palms, forcing her eyes to focus on him. A deep line creased her forehead, she inhaled a shaky breath.
“You’re safe now. I’ll be back in a second and then we’re getting out of here.” She blinked the tears away, her throat moved on a swallow.
“Okay.” She nodded.
The urge to kiss her swollen lip, and every other scrape on her porcelain face, turned his feet to lead. He tore himself away. First, he had to get her safe and dry. He buckled her seat belt, then closed the door and jogged to her car. The black finish bore silver scratches from the truck that had ploughed into her car. The airbag had deployed, and smashed the windshield into a million tiny pieces. He sat on the seat to turn off the ignition, and then grabbed her purse from the passenger seat.
Ethan’s hands clenched into fists as he strode back to his truck. He slid behind the wheel and set her purse beside her. The muscles in his stomach clenched. He punched the overhead light and turned to face her. Her wide, green eyes pierced his soul.
He reached his hand to cup her face, his thumb brushed over her cheekbone. A pinkish-purple hue stained the delicate skin there.
“Did you see him?”
She shook her head. Shit. At least she’d seen the make and model of the truck.
“If you hadn’t of come when you did…”
“Shhh.” He smoothed her hair back. “I did, and you’re going to be okay. I’m taking you to a hospital and—”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Riley, you were just in a bad accident.”
Her hand grasped his, which rested on the console. “Ethan, please. I just want to go home…with you. I’m okay, really.”
He caught a droplet of blood on his fingertip and held it out to her. “You hit your head good.” He leaned closer, but couldn’t see in the dim shadows. “I think there’s a gash near your hair.”
She pulled out of his reach. “I’m fine. I didn’t even black out, I promise. Please, get me out of here.” She flicked her gaze to the window, her attention scanned the outside.
Fuck, he hated that she was scared. He nodded his head in agreement, and turned the truck around to head back toward town. He was experienced enough to spot a concussion and would carry her in if she needed it.
Her fingers wiggled into his clenched fist. He tightened his hold; she was freezing. Keeping his eyes on the road, he brought her fingers to his lips and blew hot air on them. When he got her settled he’d call the cops.
“Did you get a plate number?” He ground the words out through the iron that had set in his jaw. It was a damn miracle she’d been able to walk away with little more than scratches and bruises.
“Ethan.” Her voice permeated his thoughts. Her hand tightened on his. He glanced at her. She stared at him, her face ashen. He’d been lost in thought of the what-ifs and had totally missed what she’d said.
He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Sorry, babe. Just thinking.”
“I didn’t get a plate number. After I hit the tree, he turned around and came back. He was going to get out, but headlights came down the road. He—”
“Shhh. He’s gone.”
“He’s going to come back.” Her voice was small. He squeezed her hand.
“We’re going to catch the bastard. When did you first notice him behind you?”
She let out a shaky breath. “Not long after I pulled onto the highway. The road had been empty when I turned onto it. He showed up a few minutes later.”
“He could have been waiting.” He rested his hand on her bare, sleek thigh. His fingers moved to caress her smooth skin. “Let’s not think about it right now, okay? We can talk more later. For now, I want you to rest your head.”
They entered the town limits, bringing him to Main Street and only a couple blocks from his house. If he had of lived farther… if he couldn’t have gotten to her as fast as he did… A hard lump formed in his throat. He couldn’t go there. If Riley was right and the bastard came back, he would have to get though Ethan first.
Her head turned to look out the window, her soft, shallow breaths barely audible over his raging blood. He turned down the road leading to his house. The overcast night obstructed the moon’s glow, making it darker than usual. She undid her seat belt before he put the truck into park.
“Wait a minute,” he rasped. He turned off the ignition and rounded the vehicle. He opened the passenger door and reached for her waist.
“Ethan, I can walk.” She wiggled out of his arms and reluctantly, he lowered her to her feet. There was that damn armor of hers. Her hand closed in his though, and she leaned into his side as he led her up the short walkway. He lifted his elbow over her head to block the rain.
They went up the couple of steps to the front porch. Bugs swarmed around the covered outside light, seeking shelter from the storm. He inserted the key and swung the door open. One look around the messy kitchen brought his hand to his head. He bent to pick up his gym clothes from that morning that lay on the floor between the kitchen and laundry room. He tossed them at the washer and closed the door.
“What can I say, I’m a bachelor.” He shrugged.
She smiled. “It’s not that bad.” She slid her shoes off and stepped into the kitchen. At least he’d put his supper dishes in the sink. The smell of hamburgers still lingered in the air. “Smells yummy,” she said softly as she leaned over the dirty frying pan on the stove. Stepping between her and the appliance, he moved the pan to the sink.
“Are you hungry? There’s leftovers in the fridge.”
Her hand went to her stomach. “I’m starving. But I don’t think I can eat right now. Maybe later.”
The bright kitchen light revealed every scratch and abrasion on her creamy skin. His stomach constricted.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” His hand fell to the slight curve at the small of her back as he led her through the living room and to the bathroom. Thankfully, he’d picked up this morning and only his tablet and laptop littered the couch and coffee table. He switched on the bathroom light and guided her to the closed toilet seat. She sat, her feet crossed at the ankles, her hands rested on her thighs.
He took the first aid kit out from beneath the sink—he didn’t travel anywhere without being well equipped—and opened it. She peered over the edge of the kit.
“What’s in there?”
He pulled out some rubbing alcohol and swabs. “Everything I need. That gash looks pretty bad though, Rye.” Blood matted the soft blond locks near her temple and ear. He poured some alcohol on the swab and began wiping the scrapes. Air sucked in through her clenched teeth.
“Ouch, that stings.” She
pulled her face out of reach, but he stopped her from moving with his free hand.
“I know, but it needs to be cleaned. You can have a nice hot shower when I’m done, okay? And then a burger and fries.”
“Are you bribing me with food?” She winced as he swiped over the cut on the side of her head. He mopped up the blood, then got another clean alcohol swab and cleaned it again.
“It’s the only tempting thing I have.”
Her tongue smoothed over her bruised lip. The movement shouldn’t have made him hard, shouldn’t have made him want to take that tongue in his mouth, to stretch her out on his bed and—
“I beg to differ,” she said softly. Fire surged through him. Her eyes drifted from his face over his chest and down to his belt buckle. He groaned.
“Don’t do that Rye. You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”
Her eyebrows rose. “A word of caution from you? When you’ve done nothing but tease and torment me since the moment I met you?”
“Tease and torment?” He snorted. “Honey, you have no idea.” He pressed the sopping swab to the cut. She cried out and tore away.
“Jeez, Ethan. That hurts.”
“Sorry.” He dropped the now red pad into the trash can and inched closer to her. “I need to have a close look at this, so hold still.” He brought his hands to her head and tilted it so the light hit the area of the gash. The cut ran vertically along her hairline, from below her temple to where her ear started. Shit. It was deep, but she might be able to get away without stitches.
“Is it bad?”
“It’s pretty deep. Do you know how you got it?”
“My head hit the window when my car hit the tree.”
“And it didn’t knock you out?”
She brought her fingers to the spot. “No. I was in too much of a hurry to get away.” Adrenaline. His hands dropped to her bare shoulders, debris littered the thin material of her tank top. He scooped a lock of her hair in his hand, and found tiny pieces of glass tangled in the strands.
“You need to wash up. You have glass in your hair.”
Her lips parted. She took the strands from him and looked down. The blood drained from her face. Her hand shook as she picked out the pieces.
“Hey, you’re okay. It’s just glass.” He spoke softly and slowly. She nodded wildly, but didn’t look at him. He took her elbows in his hands and hauled her to her feet. Her eyes shot to his face, mist hovered in her dark lashes. She dropped her face to his chest, her hands fisted between them. His heart wrenched in his chest. He closed his arms around her and pressed one hand to the back of her head, the other to the small of her back. She trembled against him. Her teeth chattered.
Sonofabitch, she was probably still in shock. He reached over and cranked the hot water on. He lifted her in his arms and set her on her feet in the shower, then stepped in with her. Steam billowed around them. He pulled the curtain shut and backed her up under the hot spray. Carefully, he shook his hand through the strands of her hair, freeing the glass.
“Don’t move, I don’t want you to step on glass,” he whispered in her ear. She said nothing, her shoulders twitched against him. After a few minutes, she pulled away. Her eyes focused, her lips tense.
“Sorry. The glass freaked me out, I don’t know…”
He cupped her jaw. “You don’t need to apologize.”
Her lashes lowered to rest on her cheeks. She sniffled, the sound so soft and vulnerable coming from her. His thumb moved to the bruise on her lip, gently stroking. She lifted her gaze. Heat seared from her green orbs. She rose up on her tiptoes, which still left the top of her head below his chin. Her hand reached around to the back of his neck, her lips met his, warm and moist. His body tightened and his nerve endings sizzled. His hand at her back pressed her into him, crushing her pelvis to his. His dick grew hard, pressing against the tight confines of his shorts. Her tongue glided through his teeth, wet and slick.
A growl rattled in his throat as he angled her head back, allowing him deep access to her mouth. Her teeth grazed his tongue as he delved into her. Christ. She moved out of his hold to grab the hem of her soaking wet shirt and pulled it over her head. Her fingers found the snap of her shorts and she shuffled them down her legs, revealing her soft pink panties and bra.
The breath left his lungs. His hands grasped her hips, her palms landed on his chest. “Now you,” she wheezed.
He groaned. God, he loved this side of her. Hot, ready, and so damn sexy he could barely keep his thoughts straight. But she’d just been in an accident, and no matter how much he wanted to see where this moment went, he couldn’t risk her getting hurt.
His fingers flexed on her cheek. “Afraid not, honey. Let’s get you taken care of and fed, all right?” Every male atom in his body begged for her to refuse, for her to insist. Instead, her eyes grew small and she made an audible swallow.
“You’re right. I just…”
“Need a distraction?” he offered. A smile touched her lips and she shook her head.
“You’re more than that.”
He chuckled, god he liked hearing those words from her. But what did it mean? Something arced between them, and had the moment he’d laid eyes on her when he pulled up to the house he rented more than two weeks ago. Sleeping with her now would create all kinds of chaos and at the worst, would put that damn armor back around her and a brick wall between them.
He threaded his fingers back into her hair and worked out the rest of the glass. “I think you’re all clear now. Why don’t you finish and I’ll heat up some food?”
She nodded, but her hand went to the back of his neck, stopping him. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her lips sealed over his, wet from the water that coursed over her cheeks. The faint tinge of saltiness tickled his senses. His muscles pulsed with the force of an electric current, his fingers ached to touch her, to peel away her wet bra, to drag his tongue over her skin and taste her. Her fingers curled into his sopping wet shirt and ever so slowly, she broke their connection and lowered to her feet.
He cleared his throat. “Don’t mention it.” He stepped out of the shower, secured the curtain closed, and peeled off his wet clothes, leaving his boxers on. He strode to the bedroom, his erection strained against the soaked, thin material, causing a deep ache and emptiness inside him. He tossed his clothes in the laundry room, and then scrubbed his hands over his face as he retraced his steps to the bedroom for dry clothes.
She was going to be the death of him.
Chapter 12
“You didn’t get a look at his face at all?” Joe sat at the kitchen table, his ankle crossed over his knee, pen poised to the paper and a mug of coffee steaming on the table. Ethan had sent the police to the crash site last night, but had asked that Joe wait until morning to take Riley’s statement. And for that she was grateful. Her body ached from the accident, and despite being cuddled next to Ethan’s warm body all night, the crash had replayed over and over in her mind. The raging headache from last night remained as a dull throb. Morning light streamed in through the window, the sun bright and in such sharp contrast to the horrible event she’d survived.
She tightened her hands in her lap. Ethan’s palm smoothed over her shoulder for the tenth time since Joe had started asking her questions. Thankfully, Ethan had called Jenny early this morning and told her about the accident. She’d insisted Riley take the rest of the week off. If she’d had to go into work today, she’d have been a wreck.
She shook her head. Joe sighed and tucked the pen in his shirt pocket.
“Well, we have a good vehicle description at least. He won’t be able to hide that kind of damage. Your car is in bad shape, Riley. You’ll need a rental until the insurance decides what to do.” He downed the rest of his coffee, and then stood. “If anything else comes to mind, give me a call. I’ll be in touch.”
Ethan stepped forward. “What
about the DMV? Can’t you do a search and get a list of who owns that make and model of truck? There can’t be that many of them in town.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which made his already wide form take up almost the entire damn kitchen.
Riley stood and slid her arm under his elbow. His hand closed around hers. She’d spent all night picturing the large hood of the truck, its headlights closing in on her. And for the life of her, she couldn’t pinpoint anyone in town with that exact vehicle.
“Yeah, that’s an option, but it’s not reliable. He could be from any town nearby or, hell, he could live hours away. If you had a plate number, that’d be different.”
She pierced her bottom lip with her teeth. He wasn’t from a neighboring town. He was a Beaufort resident—otherwise he wouldn’t have been stalking her. But Joe was keeping the option open of this being a random attack. God, why couldn’t she have had the sense to get a look at his plate?
“But it’s a start,” Ethan pressed.
Joe nodded. “That it is. I’ll see what we can do.” He slipped outside and shut the door behind him. Ethan turned and rested his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading.
“You okay?”
She swallowed. Reliving last night had set her nerves on edge. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her so he wouldn’t see them tremor. “I’m fine.”
His lips quirked and his hands moved to rest on her waist. She leaned back against the counter and ran her hands over his forearms.
His thumbs toyed with the waistband of her jeans, sending goosebumps across her midsection. His gaze sharpened on her, seemingly unaware of the effect his touch was having. “You said you have her journal, right?”
Riley nodded. She’d only read halfway through, so it was possible there could still be clues hidden in the pages.
“We need to go through it with a fine-tooth comb. I want you to stay with me until we find this guy.” Ethan brought his hands to her hair and brushed it behind her shoulders. “This is so much more than him trying to scare you.”
Her heart beat steadily in her chest. “If he wants to get rid of me, he must be afraid I’m getting close to him… But I don’t feel like I am.”
Bait Page 12