Page 12

H is knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel. He couldn’t get the image of her out of his damn head. She had to be insane.

It had taken more than an hour to spot her in the crowd.

It’d been like searching for a needle in a haystack, but there was no doubt she was there.

She’d been half naked like the rest of the youngsters, a revealing black bikini top did little to conceal her cleavage.

The gap between the bikini top and her tiny denim shorts left her tantalizing golden skin on display.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d downed one shot, sipped a cocktail and then a double shot. The slimy bastard had showed her something in his hand and then had taken it himself. A pill. Ethan hadn’t seen her take it, thank god.

Had Ethan not lost them in the crowd, he’d have swept in right then and there. He’d caught a glimpse of them leaving and had jumped in his truck when they pulled out of the grass parking area and followed them to the seedy motel parking lot. He wiggled the stiffness out of his fingers.

Damn, it had felt good to pummel the guy.

Unbelievable. It was all he could do not to shake some sense into her.

He pulled into his driveway. Her body moved with every bump.

She was out cold. He slammed the truck into park and exhaled on a sigh.

Her legs were curled under her, her head rested back against the seat, her face turned toward the window.

He didn’t need this right now. What he needed was to be alone, get his bearings, and figure out his own damn problems. Not babysit.

He reached his hand out to nudge her. The glossy skin on her shoulder was smooth beneath his palm. “Riley, wake up. We’re here.”

Nothing.

“Riley.” He spoke louder and shook her shoulder.

Her head rolled to the side. Shit, he hoped she hadn’t lost her keys.

His eyes fell to the small shoulder bag that hung across her chest. He switched the above light on and opened her purse.

She didn’t flinch against the bright glow.

His brow furrowed as his fingers closed around smooth metal. He pulled the object out.

A foghorn? What the hell?

He shook his head. This was her idea of protecting herself? She was so drunk she’d probably hurt herself if she tried to use the damn thing. He dropped it in the console.

He leaned across the seat to peer farther into her bag. Her soft scent of strawberries—and vanilla?—filled his nose. Her hair brushed his cheek. The sleek skin of her belly filled his vision, tightening his insides. He exhaled through his nose, forcing the aroma away.

A dull ache pulsed behind his eyes as he searched the bottom of her purse and pulled out her key chain. He’d have to carry her; no way in hell was he going to deal with her drunken antics right now.

The warm sticky air greeted him when he opened the car door. He threaded his hand through his hair on the way to the passenger’s side. Even several blocks away, he could hear the roar of the crowd from the beach. Her eyes fluttered when he opened the door, then shut just as quickly.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He unbuckled the seat belt. His fingers closed around the slim circumference of her wrist as he let the belt go.

He lifted her into his arms. Her cheek rested against his shoulder, her hand limp in her lap. She curled against him and murmured something unintelligible. He walked the short distance to the set of stairs, and ascended to the porch. Balancing her against his chest, he opened the door.

The warm, fruity scent of air freshener filled his nostrils. He kicked the door shut and weaved his way through her house until he found the larger room of the two at the back. He lowered her to the bed, her bent knees fell to the side, and her arm dropped to rest beside her face.

She frowned, the slight crease in her brow deepened, and she rolled to her side. Her dark lashes rested against her creamy skin, her golden locks tangled around her.

Jenny had called her troubled. That was to say the least.

He reached down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

His fingers ached to trail the smooth line of her cheek.

Warmth radiated from her skin and her lip stuck out in a slight pout.

Annoyance settled in his chest. She’d had more run-ins with danger in the short weeks he’d known her than anything he’d witnessed before.

Riley was playing a treacherous game and it was going to end here.

A low whimper sounded from her throat and she grasped her stomach. Shit.

He backed up.

Her eyes flung open and she lunged off the bed, her hand to her mouth.

He caught her in his arms and righted her on her feet. She gagged.

Sonofabitch.

He propelled her around the bed and to the small bathroom. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet and retched. He scooped her hair back again and knelt behind her. Damn, she’d done a number on her stomach.

Her shoulders shook as she purged what little was left in her. The scent of tequila wafted to his nostrils. Good god. No wonder she was so messed up.

He smoothed his hand over the bare skin of her back until her gags subsided. Her hand shook as she brought the back of it to her chin.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was raw and haggard. He stood and wet a washcloth, then knelt back down beside her.

“You’re fine.” He pressed the cool cloth to her lips. Her head rested against his chest, her hand curled over her stomach.

“Riley,” he urged softly, nudging her shoulder. Her eyes drifted to his with acknowledgement. “Did you take anything else besides alcohol? Any pills?”

She shook her head adamantly. “No. He tried to give me some purple ones though.” Her knees curled in closer to her stomach.

His arms bunched around her. That motherfucker…

“I don’t feel good.”

He shifted his arm to curl around her waist. “I don’t doubt it.”

Her head rolled back and her eyes fluttered at him. “What’d you do to him?”

He closed his hand into a fist against her side. “Gave him what he deserved. He’ll be fine, but he has a broken nose at least.”

A soft laugh bubbled from her. “That was pretty impressive…the way you pulled him through the window. I maced him you know,” she said proudly.

Ethan’s lips twitched. That explained the guy’s screams and the way he’d clawed at his eyes while Ethan beat into him.

“What is this?” Her fingers toyed with the skin on her stomach. “Feels icky.”

He touched the delicate spot on her abdomen that her hand vacated. It was sticky. And matched the blue hue that she’d just purged.

“It looks like part of your drink.”

She snapped her fingers. The movement was lazy and sloppy. “Oh yeah.” Her hand fell back to her lap.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a shower.” She pushed away from him and grabbed the tub to haul herself up.

Oh no. He stood with her, and gripped her hip to steady her. “That’s not a good idea.”

“It’s a very good idea.” She leaned across the tub to grasp the tap. Her foot slipped on the mat and she tumbled forward. He caught his arm under her waist and hauled her back up before she fell in.

“You’re going to bed.” He lifted her to her feet and leaned her back against the vanity.

“My mouth feels gross.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. He leaned around her and filled the glass by the sink with water.

“Here.”

She accepted the glass and rinsed. Then she reached to the toothbrush holder and pulled out a pink one. He stepped back so she could do what she needed to, but stayed within reach in case she fell. When she finished, she turned back to him.

“Why are you here?”

He locked his jaw. This wasn’t the time to discuss everything. “Let’s get you to bed.” He led her toward the door, but she pulled out of his grip.

“I can’t. I’m blue.” She swayed on her feet, and gestured down at herself.

She was right.

He nodded and eased her back against the counter again. “I’ll get it off, all right?” He wet a washcloth and brought it to her stomach. She squirmed as he washed off the stickiness. He kept his hand steady on her hip while he worked. Her slim waist clenched with every swipe of the cloth.

He worked the muscles in his jaw. “Hold still,” he breathed. His tone sharper than he’d intended.

Her hand rested on his jaw. “I like this.”

He dragged his eyes to hers. She yawned.

A smile tugged at his mouth. “You like what?”

“This feeling.” She stroked her thumb over his stubble. He swallowed. Her fingers trailed lazily down the side of his throat. “But I don’t like you very much.”

Her words cut into him, but they stung more than they should have.

The tip of his tongue burned to ask why, especially since he’d only wanted to help her.

He’d assumed her distance from him had been due to a recent breakup, but to hear she flat out didn’t like him ate through him. “Thanks for sharing.”

“You want to know why?”

He wet the cloth again. The blue was gone, but the stickiness still clung to her stomach. Being careful not to touch her inappropriately, he wiped at the residue. “No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“You’re pushy.”

Pushy. Okay. If preventing her from rape meant he was pushy, then he was fine with that.

“And nosey.” Her hand trailed down his throat to rest on his chest, leaving a burning path in its wake. Nosey he could handle considering the circumstances of her behavior.

“Is that all?” He dropped the cloth on the counter but didn’t back away. Her fingers knotted in the material of his T-shirt. Her eyes stayed trained on her fingers, and a pink shade crept over her cheekbones. His lips tingled with the need to take her mouth into his.

“I don’t like the way you look at me.” Her eyes lifted to meet his. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the warm, fiery yellow mixed in with her green irises.

Acid burned through his veins. The muscles in his shoulders bunched.

That wasn’t a comment he could brush off. “How do I look at you?”