Her Hero And Protector

With a speed that truly shocked her, he lunged forward and tackled her around the waist. In one smooth motion he shoved her to the floor and pinned her down with his body.

She had never been as frightened as she was at that moment, not even when her abductor had grabbed her. The bitter taste of adrenaline filled her mouth. Her heart pounded wildly, pushing her fear to every part of her body. Her throat threatened to close. She swallowed several times, but it did nothing to stop the sick churning in the pit of her stomach. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. She gasped for breath. She lashed out at him in panic, scratching the side of his face.

“Damn!” He grabbed both her wrists and held them above her head. “Settle down, you little hellcat. I told you I’m not going to hurt you. Now, calm down. Will you stay put and stop struggling if I let go of your wrists?”

The tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them away. A sob caught in her throat. She barely managed to force out the words. “Please don’t hurt me.”

His breathing quickened as he continued to struggle with her. She was obviously very frightened, but he also knew that she was hysterical and in danger of injuring herself if she tried to run again. He could not let her up from the floor before she regained control of her emotions. He forced a calm to his voice, one he didn’t feel but one he hoped would have an effect on her.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.” He held both of her wrists in one of his hands and with the other one he grabbed both sides of her jaw and held her head still. He fixed her with a steady gaze. “Listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you hear me? Are you listening to me? Answer me.”

He saw her eyes focus on him. They were still filled with fear, but he knew he finally had her attention. He dropped his voice to what he hoped was a soothing level. “Quiet down. Be still. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you understand me?”

She nodded her head.

“Say it. I want to hear the words. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her voice trembled, but the words finally came out. “I…I hear you.”

“Okay. Now, take a deep breath, then another one. You’re going to be all right. Take another breath.” He felt some of the tension drain from her body as her muscles relaxed a bit. When her breathing smoothed out until it was steady, he let go of her face. “I’m going to turn your wrists loose now, then we’ll get up from the floor. I want you to sit on the sofa. Do you understand?”

She took a deep breath. Her voice still contained a slight quaver as she spoke, but she had better control of it. “Yes.”

His face was so close to hers that he could feel her breath against his skin. Even disheveled, dirty and scratched, she still radiated a beauty and desirability that pushed his testosterone to the limit. And having his body on top of hers definitely aggravated the awkward situation. He had to break the physical contact before she had a valid reason to be concerned about what could happen.

He cautiously released her wrists from his grasp and allowed her to slowly lower her arms. “I’m going to stand up now. Are you sure you’re calm and in control of your emotions?” He felt a little more of her tension drain away. He rose to his feet, then held out his hand to help her up from the floor. She hesitated, then cautiously accepted his assistance.

To her surprise, her fear level didn’t elevate when he grasped her hand. He certainly radiated a commanding presence, but she had picked up on something else about him. His blue eyes had been wary as he stared at her, rather than menacing. They were honest and seemed to take in everything that was going on. Now that she was in control of herself again, she realized that there wasn’t anything potentially hurtful radiating from him.

Was it just wishful thinking on her part? Hoping she hadn’t become ensnared in even more trouble than she had been in a few hours earlier? Hoping she hadn’t stumbled into the hideout of a crazed rapist or a serial killer? She knew he wasn’t the man who had abducted her, but could he be in league with her stalker?

Her throat tightened and a sick feeling churned in the pit of her stomach again. Was she about to meet her final doom?

He guided her to the sofa in front of the fireplace. “I’m not going to hurt you. Now sit down and stay put while I build a fire and get some heat in here.” He started to reach for some logs, then turned his gaze on her again. He told her what she intellectually knew, but had not emotionally accepted.

“You can’t wander around in the rain. Besides, it will be dark soon. All you’ll accomplish is getting yourself hurt.” He returned his attention to starting a fire.

The cold, the wet and the emotional turmoil finally caught up with her. She shivered in hard spasms. She reached for the blanket folded across the back of the sofa and pulled it around her. Was she now a prisoner of this man? What should she do?

What could she do?

She studied him as he placed a couple of logs in the fireplace, then lit the small pieces of kindling. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, but it didn’t do anything to hide his handsome features. His wet hair lay matted against his head, dark tendrils brushing against the top of his jacket collar. She noted his broad shoulders and long legs. He appeared to be in his late thirties. Most certainly a very sexy man with a magnetic aura and definite appeal.

She closed her eyes for a moment as she shook the thoughts from her head. She had been stalked, then abducted. She had escaped into the woods in an attempt to elude her pursuer. She had been running for her life—literally. And now she was trapped in a mountain cabin with this stranger who had clearly demonstrated how indefensible her position was when he had tossed her over his shoulder as if she were nothing more than a sack of feathers and hauled her back inside, then had physically held her against her will.

Any thoughts about the desirability of this man were not only totally inappropriate, they were absurd.

Reece’s voice broke into her thoughts as he closed the screen in front of the fire. “There—that should take the chill out of the air and help you warm up.”

He wasn’t sure what to do now. She sat huddled in the corner of the sofa with the blanket wrapped around her. Another hard jolt of lust struck him, tempered by the realization of how frightened and vulnerable she appeared. It had been two years and three months since he had been this close to a desirable woman. The sight played on his emotions and tugged at his senses. He tried to shove away the feelings. He went to the kitchen, took the sack from the grocery store out of the refrigerator and put everything away where it belonged, hoping the activity would give him time to think.

A few minutes later he returned to the living room. She was exactly where he had left her, scrunched in the corner of the sofa. He swallowed his discomfort and uneasiness as he forced an outer calm.

“Well, Goldilocks…are you sufficiently recovered enough to talk to me? Do you have a name?”

She pulled up all the courage she could muster as she attempted to project a commanding attitude. “Do you?”

“No you don’t, Goldilocks. It’s my cabin. You’re the trespasser. I’m the one who has the right to ask questions and demand answers.”

She glared at him. “Stop calling me Goldilocks!”

He suppressed the wry grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. She had spirit. Even as frightened as she obviously was—as frightened as anyone would be under the circumstances—she had managed to put forth some heated sparks of independence. He found that very appealing. He had never been particularly interested in the clinging-vine type of woman nor the type who constantly needed to have her ego fed—not even as the occasional one-night stand.

He made eye contact with her and held it for a long moment before speaking. “Then tell me what to call you.”

Her emotions had been stretched, punched and pulled so taut that she didn’t have anything left other than the underlying current of fear that continued to run just below the surface. “Brandi…” She broke the eye contact as she quickly looked away. “Brandi Doyle.”

“Well, Brandi Doyle, what are you doing in my cabin?” The question left him uneasy. Was her obvious vulnerability getting to him? Was he allowing himself to be drawn into yet another bad situation with a woman where he would end up regretting that he hadn’t just allowed her to escape into the storm and out of his life?

“I…I needed someplace where I could get out of the storm.”

“I didn’t see a car. How did you get here? Why were you wandering around in the storm? Where did you come from?” He reached out and almost touched her face, withdrawing his hand before he made physical contact. “And where did you get those scratches on your face?”

“I—” This was no good. She didn’t have a clue who he was, other than the owner of the cabin. Or so he claimed.

True…even though she didn’t have any means of protecting herself, he hadn’t done anything other than bring her back inside from the storm. True…he had released her unharmed, as he’d said he would. True…he just might be an honorable and trustworthy man.

But could she really trust him with the truth about how and why she happened to be in his cabin?

She drew in a steadying breath in an effort to calm her galloping anxiety and ease her trepidation. She chose her words with great care. “I apologize for being here. I had no right to break into your cabin.” She rose to her feet and dropped the blanket on the sofa. “I’ll leave so you can go about your business.” She picked up her purse, screwed up her courage and headed toward the door.

Reece grabbed her arm and with his other hand took the purse from her. “Wait a minute. You can’t go wandering in the woods with a storm raging around you. Besides—” he glanced toward the window “—in another ten minutes it will be dark outside.”

He eyed her carefully, maintaining his hold on her as she tried to wrest her arm from his grip. “Are you in some kind of trouble? Are you in danger? Was my cabin more of a place for you to hide than merely somewhere to get out of the rain?”

Her words came out almost as a whisper, her voice pleading. “Please…let go of me. I want to leave.”

The quaver in her voice answered his questions, and the obvious fear that emanated from the depths of her eyes confirmed those answers. And it also told him that hell must have frozen over while he wasn’t looking. He had just been suckered into helping yet another beautiful woman in distress. Would he live to regret it this time, too?

She looked up at him, this time holding the eye contact. He saw the confusion in her troubled hazel eyes. He loosened his grip on her arm and guided her back to the sofa. He softened his voice, hoping it would instill some confidence and allay her concerns and obvious fears.

“Sit down.” He opened her purse and took out her driver’s license. “So, your name really is Brandi.” He noted her address in Rocky Shores, Washington—a city of about thirty thousand people in the greater Seattle metropolitan area. Rocky Shores…he turned that interesting tidbit of information over in his mind as he handed everything back to her.

He perched on the arm of the sofa and studied her for a moment. “Tell me what’s going on…please.”

She hesitated as if she wasn’t sure what to do or what to say. She emitted a sigh of resignation as she slumped back and allowed her tensed muscles to relax a little bit. He didn’t seem as threatening as he had earlier. True to his word, he had not harmed her. A lot of the fear had drained from her reality—but not all of it. “I don’t even know who you are. Why would you want to hear about my problems?”

“Fair enough question. My name is Reece Covington. You’re obviously in some kind of trouble and by breaking into my cabin you’ve involved me in it even if that wasn’t your intention.” Was he about to repeat the same colossal mistake that had landed him in prison for two years? He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then slowly exhaled. He was not at all sure he was doing the right thing. His words came out slowly, surrounded by a touch of the uncertainty that jittered inside him.