by Rebecca King
To her dismay, Niall grabbed her elbow in a firm grip and tried to propel her toward the house.
“Just get inside, and now before he comes back,” Niall warned.
Clara’s wide-eyed glare flew around the garden in horror. She instinctively stepped closer to Niall’s solid presence and struggled not to cling to him.
“Hasn’t he gone?”
“I hope he hasn’t,” Niall snapped impatiently.
“What?”
“Well, I need to find out who he is.” Niall swore and ran an impatient hand through his hair. He hoped Will had noticed what had happened, but suspected that his colleague, who had been doing a perimeter search, was still at the front of the house.
“Just what is going on here?” she demanded. Now that she had seen Niall punch the thug, she felt a little safer and more confidence being outside, despite the inclement weather.
“Will you just get the hell inside?” Niall hissed impatiently.
When Clara glared at him, Niall muttered a curse and grabbed her wrist in a tight hold.
“Get off me,” Clara protested, wriggling and squirming to try to get him to release her.
“Just get inside where you are safe, for God’s sake,” Niall demanded. “Do you want him to come back and get you?”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t sodding know,” Niall shouted. “I am not likely to find out now seeing as he is probably half a mile away by now.”
Clara mentally winced because she knew she had probably cost him the ability to find the man and get the truth out of him.
When Clara still didn’t move, Niall shook his head at her. He had no idea why she was staring at him as if she had never set eyes on him before. Whatever she was thinking she had clearly forgotten where they were, and that there was a house full of women only several feet away. Not only that, but with each passing minute the pounding rain was soaking them both through.
God, even wet she looks gorgeous.
Niall ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Even he looked at the house longingly, but daren’t venture near it in case one of the women inside saw him. He suspected he wouldn’t be likely to get out alive, or at least for the next hour or so. Will needed him not least because there was a very real possibility that the thug was still in the area – watching and waiting to strike again.
“I have got to go,” Niall growled. “You do what you want, but if he comes back and snatches you it is your own fault.”
With that, he turned to leave. He had no intention of going. He just wanted to leave her all alone, so she was forced to find sanctuary with her friends. If she stayed with him, Niall suspected he wasn’t going to be able to keep his hands off her for too much longer.
“I won’t because I shall have them around her sodding neck,” he grumbled.
“What?” Clara demanded because she thought she heard him muttering something about strangling someone.
Clara lifted her brows at him when he turned to glare at her. Now that the threat of danger had gone, annoyance with him started to creep in. She knew it was not fair that she should be out of sorts with him, especially after he had done so much to rescue her, but she was getting frustrated at his reticence. If he was a member of the Star Elite he would know that she was Atticus Potter’s daughter and would know about his organisation. He should know she could be trusted with secrets. As it was, he seemed to think her an addle-brained female who couldn’t be trusted.
That might have something to do with the fact that I lied about being engaged to him. He is probably wary about what he tells me in case I try to get involved with what he is here for.
“This does involve me, you know. Or should I not know who that man is or what he wants with me because I am a woman?” Clara shouted.
“I can’t explain it to you right now. Just get back inside,” he commanded.
She threw him a dark glare before she turned away, but when she stepped back, Clara inadvertently stood on a wet moss-covered stone, which moved in the mud and unbalanced her. She gasped and waved her arms wildly as she desperately tried to regain her balance but was already topping backward.
With a vicious curse, Niall lunged for her. This time, he swept her off her feet and held her tightly against his chest - which was his first mistake. He then decided it was best if he carried her to the damned house seeing as she seemed reluctant to go to it herself - which was his second mistake. His third mistake was thinking his attacker had disappeared and wasn’t going to make good use of Niall’s decidedly tempting distraction.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Niall had barely taken two steps before the heavy bucket slammed him in the centre of his back. He cursed when pain lanced down his spine. Dropping Clara onto her feet, he spun around only for the bucket to hit him in the face. Blood spurted into his mouth as his lip split and pain slashed across his jaw and cheek bone. He winced but positioned himself protectively before Clara and made sure she stayed behind him as he braced himself for another fight.
Clara screamed when she heard the heavy thwack of the bucket hitting Niall in the face. Niall didn’t seem to notice. He was so swift in snatching the bucket off the attacker that Clara gasped at the speed of it. To her amazement, Niall started to use it as a weapon and began to smack the thug with it in his head, his chest, his stomach, his legs. Over and over again in rapid succession, he rammed the bucket at his opponent with all of his might. Because it was slippery the thug couldn’t take it off him.
“That’s my bucket,” she cried when she heard it crack beneath the force of Niall’s onslaught. “It’s the only one I have.”
Niall blinked at her before slamming it into the thug’s face and watching blood start to pour down his chubby features.
“I am fighting bloody attacker and all you can think about is your bucket?” he growled in disgust, shoving the edge of the bucket into his opponent’s forehead.
Clara clamped her mouth closed but placed her fists on her hips and glared at both men.
“Well, you two can stand out here and fight all you like, but I am going back inside where it is warm. Give me my bucket back, please?” she commanded.
The men continued to fight for the bucket while trying to kick each other.
“Ooh, do you never listen?” she screeched. “Give me the bucket.”
Her temper began to burn even brighter when the bucket was thrown casually across the garden but several feet away so she had to scurry after it.
“Thank you,” she sniped sarcastically.
Glaring menacingly at the men, she snorted inelegantly in disgust because she knew neither of them noticed. They seemed determined to keep pounding each other until one of them gave in and either collapsed or left. Clara suspected it wouldn’t be Niall who surrendered, not given the vicious look on his face. For a very brief moment, she almost pitied the thug, until she remembered what he was doing in her garden and how frightened she had been made to feel because of it.
Once she had retrieved her now discarded and very damaged bucket, Clara began to stomp back to the house, making sure to skirt warily around the still battling men. Suddenly, the thug slammed a fist into Niall’s head, which made Niall stagger backward before he fell to the floor. The thug didn’t waste a moment of his advantage and turned his attention on Clara.
Clara screamed and swung her bucket at him only to jolt when the heavy receptacle slammed into him. She glared up at him and winced at the sight of his battered and bruised face. Still, she knew she could have no mercy and lifted the bucket once more. As Niall had done, she slammed it under his nose. Despite the wind, she heard a loud crack and watched blood start to pour from it. Before she needed to do anything else, Niall appeared over the man’s shoulder. Clara’s eyes widened as she watched him lift a heavy rock and ram it hard on the head of the thug. The man blinked blankly at her for several moments before his eyes rolled back and he slumped soundlessly to the floor.
Clara and Niall were, albeit briefly, frozen in time. Al
l they could do was stare blankly at each other while they absorbed what had just happened. Now that Niall knew his opponent wasn’t going anywhere, he began to relax and was hit with a wild surge of relief that everything was going to be all right. It was so strong that he puffed out his cheeks and looked ruefully down at the man at their feet.
“Do you know him?” he asked. “Is he not one of Boyle’s friends?”
Clara shook her head. “He is why you are here, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Niall replied.
“Why won’t you just be honest with me? No stranger would fight like that. Besides, if you aren’t with the Star Elite, what are you doing lurking in my garden?” Clara swiped at the rainwater that temporarily clouded her vision. When she could see Niall again, she gasped at the vision he presented.
He looked wild, untamed, lethal, yet so stunningly handsome that all Clara could do was stare. Until her survival instincts kicked in. It took her several moments to realise that she was now the focus of that intense, predatory glare of his, and he posed just as much danger to her as her attacker had although on a different level. In contrast to his hardness, she felt delicate, feminine yet infinitely vulnerable.
“Who are you then?” she whispered, unsure if he had even heard her through the now howling wind.
“Look, it isn’t really important right now. Just get inside,” Niall growled by way of answer.
Even that husky rumble makes him sound untamed.
“I demand to know who you are,” Clara knew she needed to persist because if he disappeared she would be unlikely to ever get facts from him. She suspected that her persistence would force him to do whatever he had come to the village to do hidden from her. Even if she tried to find him again, Niall would make sure she couldn’t, if only to avoid her questions.
Niall had no intention of telling her that in the middle of her garden. “I said get inside.”
“No. Not until you tell me who you are,” she cried digging her heels in. “If my father can trust me with the facts about his position, why can’t you?”
Niall bit out a curse. “I have no idea who your bloody father is. Now, get inside!”
Niall leaned over her so menacingly that Clara’s instinctive movement was to step back. However, at the last moment, she forced herself to stand her ground. Rather than retreat as any wise person would do, she planted her fists on her hips and copied his stance. This made Niall furious because she looked like a spitting kitten. One who would most likely gouge his eyes out if he ventured too close. She could be hopelessly overpowered if he chose to be that physical with her. He suspected she knew it, but she wasn’t prepared to give in.
God, she is fierce.
A part of him was proud of her for her sheer strength and determination in the face of adversity, but he knew that feeling anything for this woman, even pride, was a foolish thing to do. What he did feel was frustration, and he tried to focus on that, and ignore the wild flurry of attraction that slammed into his midsection with more ferocity than the thug had ever managed to do. It swept aside his common sense, logical reasoning, and every ounce of self-preservation he had ever possessed. Without thinking, he stepped over the thug at their feet. Once standing toe-to-toe with her, Niall slid a hand around to cup the back of her neck with every intention of peering down into her face and re-iterating his orders, but as their faces drew close, an urge as wild as the thunderous night sky took hold.
The awareness that had appeared between them earlier sudden manifested into something different. Its ephemeral presence hovered and teased, wrapped around them and entwined them, drawing them together as one. It created a bond unlike anything he had ever realised was possible. While every survival instinct he had ever possessed warned him to focus on the thug, nothing could force him to put any distance between him and the woman before him. He was stunned by how much he wanted her, Clara Potter. The one woman in the whole of England he knew he couldn’t touch.
Despite everything screaming at him to release her and drag her back into the house, Niall remained where he was. He couldn’t release her. He couldn’t force either of them to move. He was held firmly where he was by the tense awareness which slowly but steadily bound them into a unit. It created a shield that protected them from the world around them, the storm they were in, the house that was achingly close by, and even the thug at their feet. Inside their little world of unity morphed a passion which cascaded over them and stole all thoughts. Common sense was tugged away by the relentless breeze swirling around them. Awareness of the raging storm, the dangers that lurked nearby only fanned the flames of desire, which roared into life and threatened to consume them both when Niall lowered his head.
Lips slid together, sampling, tasting, coaxing. When Niall knew he should push her away and leave, his traitorous arms slid around her and tugged her closer. His remaining thoughts were that he had to keep her at arm’s length, but while his head told him to leave, his heart refused to allow it. Wild horses couldn’t tear him away. The storm, the thug held little importance given the magnitude of what was happening right now with this woman who was so delectably tempting that resistance was futile.
As rain pummelled them both, drenching them, neither felt the cold. Neither of them was aware of any discomfort from any element of Nature’s storm. They were protected by the roaring flames of passion which warmed them both from within and encompassed them in a wildfire that was all-consuming.
A shiver of something startlingly like adoration shivered across her shoulders. Clara immediately dismissed any possibility that she could ever be attracted to someone so heathen, but she was. Her heart pounded that little bit faster when Niall’s arms slid around her. Her fingers itched to touch him to see if he was real and compelled her to slide her hands up her chest, but only so she could hold on to his broad shoulders and steady her tremulous world. In those moments, she knew she was memorising this moment, and tucking it away somewhere in the deeper recesses of her heart. She knew without doubt that his face and what they were doing were going to haunt her dreams for many nights to come but no matter how many sleepless nights it brought her, she couldn’t be sorry. She would never regret it. Not this. Not this moment. Not being with Niall in this way.
She had never felt this way before. Clara had never even believed she had the ability to feel such deep emotion. She had never been this close to any man before who had the ability to turn her world upside down like this, but Niall did. Strangely, she wasn’t at all sure that she regretted the changes it brought within her. After tonight, Clara knew that her life would never be the same. She could never be the same.
I wonder if this is what love feels like?
When a bolt of lightning lit the sky directly above their heads, the loud crack that came with it made them both instinctively flinch. Niall lifted his head to stare down at the sodden woman in his arms but felt something flip and tighten in his chest. It was wholly unexpected and completely unwelcome, not least because it went against everything he was. He worked for the Star Elite, a fighting organisation. He had never romanced a woman in his life and didn’t intend to ever start.
But this is Atticus Potter’s daughter. She will expect me to romance her if I kiss her anymore.
“Mother of God, what have I done?” he whispered.
He hadn’t ever seen anything so earthy, so stunningly captivating as Clara Potter did right there and then. It was difficult to let her go but he knew he ought, not least because they were going to get struck by the next bolt of lightning if they stayed where they were.
More than a little shaken by what had happened, and just how much Clara Potter had managed to stir him in a short space of time, Niall forced himself to step back. Running a hand through his drenched hair, he stared down at her with eyes that were somewhat accusing.
“You might want to stand out here all night, but I am getting wet. Get inside, you damned fool, before you get struck by lightning,” he growled.
A
s if to prove the threat was real, a rumble of thunder rattled the sky directly over their heads. Clara looked up at the storm clouds which were briefly lit by an answering flash of lightning before they were encased in darkness once more. She didn’t know what to think. When she looked at him again Clara realised that Niall was as wild as they storm they were facing. She suspected he would lash out just as fiercely at someone or something that challenged him and threatened his life or the lives of the people he cared about. Despite this ferocity, the wild almost uncivilised side to him, something warm and softening began to blossom to life deep within her. It brought her an inner warmth around her heart that was not altogether unappealing. In a strange kind of way, it was wildly thrilling because she knew it was going to bring her challenges in the future; challenges that would force her to contemplate life and what she wanted from it. She was intrigued to know what the emotions that coursed through her were. Was it love? It couldn’t be possible to fall in love with someone so quickly, could it? She was definitely attracted to Niall, but was it enough?
Whatever it was that had compelled her to savour the last few moments in his arms, Clara knew it was foolish to feel any affection for Niall, no matter whether he was with the Star Elite or not. He was a stranger; a man who was likely to ride out of her life and consider her nothing more than a passing fancy. She, however, could never be the same again.
“Now what?” she whispered.
Niall sighed because he couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t make her promises. They had only just met and were complete strangers. It was a little shocking that she didn’t seem to want to dismiss what had just happened as driven by mere circumstance like he did. Instead, she was asking for an explanation.
But that is something I cannot give her because I don’t know what in the Hell is happening.
“Now you have to get back inside while I deal with him. It is best you are not out here when he wakes up,” Niall warned, his face as stern as it was possible to make it.