by Deanna Chase
Then she became aware of another sensation.
Someone was watching her.
Flint twirled on her heel, every cell in her body alert and aware, feeling the penetrating gaze like a tangible weight on the back of her neck. The sidewalks were empty, the shops closed. Windows black and empty. There was only one car parked in the lot still. And it wasn’t hers.
Flint shivered, realizing just how dark it was and how far she’d come. Nearly to the end of the outdoor mall. Her truck was parked at least a half mile up.
In the distance, she thought maybe she heard some shouts of alarm, but she wasn’t sure. All she knew was she needed to get back home.
She hoofed it, but within seconds she was covering her head against the sudden onslaught of hailstones dropping constantly and painfully. One knocked into the crown of her head, making her dizzy for an instant.
She held out her hands for balance, and then a cry sprang from her lips when a hard set of hands clamped down on her waist.
“No!” She screamed, kicking in confusion.
“Princess, it’s just me.” Cain’s deep voice penetrated the fog of fear in her head. He wasn’t looking at her but at the sky. “C’mon,” he said, gritting the words out.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked as he pulled her along to the black Corvette parked alone in the middle of the empty lot.
“Out of here. Get in.” He jerked his head toward her door.
She grimaced when another chunk of hail dive-bombed her head, then jumped inside. The second she sat, the sky opened up with a roar, dumping buckets of water on them. Cain turned on the car, started the wipers, and then peeled out in a loud squeal of rubber.
For a second he didn’t say anything, and honestly, she was still confused how he’d even found her.
He was wearing black again, but this time he’d switched it up and added a pearly-gray button-down shirt. The top button was undone and her heart tried to beat out of her chest. She licked her lips, wondering how much damage her dad’s truck was taking.
“You should probably slow down,” she said, her stomach bottoming out as she sensed rather than felt the car begin to hydroplane.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “No. There’s a tornado coming.”
“Wait. What!” She twisted in her seat, and sure enough a large vortex of air was gathering and forming into a funnel behind them.
Adrenaline pulsed through her body so hard she tasted its bitter fuel.
“Oh my God! Ohmyg—”
“Just breathe. We’re almost there.”
He was flying down the two-lane road, trees towering on either side of them. Wherever he was taking them, it was secluded and private. She’d driven this road before—there was nothing out here but deer and cattle.
“Aren’t cars the worst place to be in a tornado?” she asked, starting to feel as if her lips were going numb. She pushed her forearm into her stomach to calm her nerves.
Wind buffeted the car from every direction, blasting so hard against the metal she swore she heard something groan.
“We’re not staying in the car.”
Slowing down, he turned onto a private dirt road. Rocks dinged off the hood of the car.
A Corvette.
An expensive, man’s man kind of car, and he didn’t seem to care. He didn’t slow as the trees rushed past in a blur. Flint gripped the door handle, refusing to turn back and look again even though her nerves were strung so tight she thought she might hurl right in his lap.
Which he probably deserved.
She licked her lips, pulse thumping. “How did you know where I was?”
He parked the car and pulled his keys out. “C’mon.” He opened the door, which nearly flew out of his hands in a gale-force gust. There was nothing around, just a plot of empty land and a pile of wood.
“What is this?” she cried into the wind that ripped her words away.
A loud roaring sound whipped around them. Rain and sleet drenched her in seconds as she ran behind him. Cain looked even bigger than she remembered.
He grabbed hold of a silver handle on the pile of wood, and the muscles in his back rippled against his wet shirt. She swallowed hard, realizing they were literally seconds away from being sucked up and torn to pieces.
Forty-foot trees in the distance swayed and bent, the leaves rattling so hard they sounded eerie.
Then he turned, his perpetual scowl back in place as he gestured for her to follow him. What she’d assumed to be nothing but a woodpile was actually an opening into the earth. It was dark and tight, but there were steps that led down far enough that she finally understood it was some sort of shelter.
Flint jumped inside and walked down four steps, then waited for Cain to bar the door in place. The second he did, it seemed like the whistling and howling outside actually increased. And everything turned pitch-black. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Princess?” Cain’s voice was softer, less gruff.
“Here.”
A warm hand pressed into her back before sliding around to the side of her arm and latching on to her hand. And though they were safe from the madness of the storm, a different sort of madness settled in Flint’s bones.
“Let me get in front of you.” He scooted around her, his big body brushing against every bit of her, mashing her breasts into his chest.
She inhaled sharply as her stomach tightened with heat and tendrils of anxiety.
“Stay close,” he muttered, releasing her hand. “Hang on to my back.”
Though she knew he couldn’t see her, she nodded anyway and placed her hands on the wide expanse of his shoulders.
“Step. Step. Step.” He told her where to go until finally they were on level ground. “Hang on right here.”
She hugged her wet arms to herself and shivered; without his close heat, the cold was definitely starting to slip in. Then she blinked against the immediate wash of bright white light. He’d turned on a battery lantern and then another, and another, until the entire room blazed a bright white.
The whistling shriek above was a cold reminder that they’d barely escaped something terrible.
He looked at her, his hot gaze feeling like a torch on her sensitive body. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t look away, feeling like a cornered rabbit in a snare the way he studied her.
Flint couldn’t help but wonder what he saw. A dripping-wet redhead with matted hair and flaming-red cheeks. Not to mention the hail had ripped the sleeve of her left arm open. She bit her lip.
“You’re wet,” he finally said. “You need to get out of those cold clothes before you catch your death.” His voice was that deep shivery sound again, the one that made her body tingle.
She cocked her eyebrow, the cold forgotten for a moment. “Thanks for saving my life, Cain, but I’m not taking my clothes off in front of you.”
Her jaw dropped when he smiled. And it wasn’t the cocky, smug grin she’d grown used to with him, but a full-on, megawatt movie-star smolder, and her insides quaked.
“Princess, the things that come out of your mouth.”
Then he was walking up to her and she backed up against the dirt wall, holding her hands out. But he gently batted them away and gripped the hem of her shirt in his fingers.
“You swam in a bra.”
She thinned her lips, heart rattling so hard in its cage she was sure he must have heard it. “Your brother didn’t tell me we were going swimming. Besides, it was green and gold and didn’t look like…”
He placed his finger over her mouth and she wanted to bite it.
No, she totally lied.
She wanted to nip it and kiss it and then bite it.
“Take your shirt off, princess. I won’t look if you don’t want me to, but you need to dry off.”
Flint swallowed hard and stuttered, “Then back… back away. Go over there.” She shooed him.
He gave her that grin again that made her forget what her name was, his fingers grazing her bare belly b
efore he nodded and released her. Had she been the swooning type, she would have fainted right then and there.
“Pants too.” He winked and stared at her legs.
She lifted her brows. “Not that the idea doesn’t sound appealing, because it so totally does. I’ve never wanted anything more than to be completely naked in front of you…”
“Mmm. Really? That can be arranged.”
“Oh my God. I was being sarcastic, you pompous idiot.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Who are you, and what’s happened to the real Cain?”
He snorted and turned around, walking to the large metal shelf and then tossing a thick towel at her. “Here. Change.”
She waited for a second to make sure he wouldn’t try to surprise her and turn back around, but he didn’t. Just started to take his own shirt off and yeah… she was pretty sure she’d died and gone to heaven.
Or hell.
Probably hell, because the thoughts he was making her have were anything but pure.
She barely managed to suppress a sigh when he shrugged out of his shirt and his muscles were so… Yeah, words could not describe it.
Perfect. Ropey. Strong. Flexing. Smooth. His back tapered into a V, his black jeans slung from his tight waist, and she knew she’d never seen anything so perfect in all her life.
Then she noticed the tattoo. The one she’d noticed the first day. It was larger than she’d realized, climbing up his bicep to his shoulder.
It was beautiful.
“You’re watching.”
Guilty, she jumped and cleared her throat. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Whatever you say.” He chuckled.
Quickly, she chucked her shirt off and skimmed her sodden jeans off her legs, breathing a sigh of relief when they were no longer touching her. Then she wrapped herself in the thick towel a second before he turned around.
Flint gave him the evil eye. “You tried to peek.”
Man, she could get used to that smile of his. Dangerous and alluring, it made her hot and itchy all at once.
His eyes roamed the length of her body. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The look spoke louder than any words.
Pursing her lips, she glanced at her pile of clothes. “What now?”
He rolled his shoulder and his front side was just as impressive as his back. His pecs were huge and well-defined, his abs flat and washboard strong. Cain rubbed his towel through his hair. “We wait it out.”
“How long does this usually take?”
Cain walked to an inflatable couch and sat, patting the seat next to him. “Depends. Tornado’s probably already passed through.”
“Then shouldn’t we leave?” She jerked her chin up as she plopped down next to him, her thigh brushing his and sending an instant tingle of heat up her body.
“Where’d you come from, princess, that you don’t know anything about a tornado? Just because it’s passed through doesn’t mean we’re out of danger. There’re bands to deal with, the hail’s probably still falling.”
“California.” She picked at her towel, feeling exposed. Not like she was naked, but close enough, and he was still wearing his jeans. Not fair.
“Is that it?”
Why was he being so nice? Even though he was hot personified and acting completely relaxed and cool, she couldn’t forget the crap he’d pulled this morning. The thought helped ease the anxiety churning in her gut.
She squared her shoulders. “My family and I traveled a lot, usually along the west and east coasts. Following the circuses.”
He nodded, acting like he wanted her to continue.
“But we’ve never come through these parts before.”
“So not familiar with the tornado belt, are you?”
She shook her head, suddenly realizing that Cain had some light stubble on his jaw. And that even though they’d gotten soaked, he still smelled unbelievably good. What kind of cologne did he wear? She was sure hers had worn off by now.
“Why were you such a jerk with me today?”
He leaned back, the inflatable couch making a sucking sound against his skin when he did. “I’m sorry about that.”
Getting embarrassed all over again as she remembered it, she ground her molars. “What’s the deal, Cain? The other night when you drove me home, I thought…”
He took off his sunglasses and she finally saw his eyes. Blue. Like Adam’s. Deep and fathomless. They didn’t have the starlight in them the way Adam’s did, but they were even nicer. His lashes were long and sooty, and her fingers twitched in her lap with the desire to touch them.
“I know.” He didn’t say anything else.
“Why do you want me away from your brother so much?”
He searched her and again she had the weird feeling like she was sinking in quicksand when he looked at her that way.
Cain ignored her question and instead asked one of his own. “What was that thing you were doing outside?”
It was hard to breathe for a second because he’d grabbed her hand and was tracing the pad of her thumb with his finger. In that small touch, she felt a strange connection begin to form between them. A tensile, invisible band that drew them together, coiling tighter around her. His lips were set in a firm line, his brows drawn. As if he wasn’t sure why he was doing it, but unable to stop himself.
“Wh…what?” she asked, then shook herself, trying to clear the mental fog.
His blue eyes never left her thumb. He stared at her hand like it held the answer to the meaning of life. “The running and flipping, what was that?”
Then he dropped her hand and she could breathe again, but suddenly she didn’t want to anymore. She wanted to drown in his touch.
“Umm, it’s called parkour. It’s nothing, really.”
“Nothing?” He shook his head. “That was impressive. I’ve never seen anything so graceful. And I’ve seen a lot of Adam’s shows.”
Had he just complimented her?
Heat crept up her neck and bloomed in her cheeks, settling in the tips of her ears. “I could teach you.”
Cain scoffed and crossed his booted feet, his abs rippling with the movement. “I don’t think so. This body can’t do agile. I’m more of the bruiser type.”
She grinned. “Hulk smash?”
He laughed and the sound was rich and clear and made her spine tingle. “Something like that. So if I’m the Hulk, I guess that makes you Spider-Man.”
“Or woman.” She shrugged. “You know, I’ve got a lot more tricks up my sleeve.”
He quirked his brow.
Flint gave him a mysterious smile. “Oh, I dunno if I should tell you. If I tell you my secrets, I might just have to kill you.”
He narrowed his eyes, a devilish gleam winking back at her. “I’d like to see you try, princess.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Cain, I might just surprise you. So what’s with the tattoo?” She hadn’t meant to ask, but there was a pause and she was curious.
Lifting his arm, he gave it the briefest glance. The black ink looked fresh still, such a rich color it was like he’d just gotten it done yesterday. But she knew that wasn’t the case.
“Born with it.”
Giving him a droll look, she held up her hand. “Yeah, okay. You be that way, Cain. You really are incapable of being anything other than a jerk, huh?”
Lip turning up at the corner, he touched his bicep. “Down here, I’m me, princess. The real me. No jokes. No lies. Just me. This is my safe spot, so let’s not do this. Deal?”
His eyes were so sincere, and she wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that inside the heart of darkness maybe, just maybe, there was a shred of something nice. He confused her, annoyed her, and made her so curious it infuriated her.
“You promise?”
His grin never left as he tipped his head. After that they continued to make stupid back-and-forth banter, and she realized that she was actually having fun. She didn’t bring up the tattoo again, but she did want to
know something else.
“So were you following me?”
He brushed a curl of hair out of her eyes and she held her breath. His touch burned like fire, streaked through her skin, settled into her blood. Made her feel hot and weirdly heavy.
Flint grabbed his hand. His fingers were so warm and strong, his thumb tracing her palm, and she was so confused.
“I wasn’t following you.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“I swear. I was on… other business. But you have to be careful.”
She crossed her chest with her finger. “I swear I didn’t know a tornado was coming. Next time—”
He shook his head, and the hand she’d been holding slipped out to rake through his dark wet hair in agitation. “Not just that. You can’t run around out there alone, especially not when it’s dark. What you can do… it’s impressive, but it’s not going to save you.”
His words both thrilled and terrified her. Thrilled because he seemed to be suggesting that he actually cared, which was unbelievable. Scary, because he was right. She should have thought about the fact that she was out in the dark all alone.
She shivered, feeling the strangest need to apologize all of a sudden.
He sighed. “Just, be careful.”
Cain glanced up, the white light splashing across his face adding dark shadows under his eyes, and for a second he’d looked like a stranger. “Think the hail stopped.”
She nodded and got up, coming away from the plastic couch with a loud popping suction. Cain wrung out his shirt and then put it back on. She was gonna miss those abs.
“Come on,” he said, sounding suddenly weary and not at all like he had just seconds ago. “I’ll take you back.”
“Cain?” She held the edges of the towel in a tight grip.
His blue eyes made her stomach quicken when he turned to her.
“Which one of you am I going to see tomorrow at school? The jerk, or the nice guy?”
He licked his front teeth and lowered his brows. “You shouldn’t be around me, Flint.”
There was an unmistakable warning in his tone, and it made her sick. It wasn’t as if she was asking him out or anything. So why did he insist on keeping his niceness such a secret? Was she annoying? Embarrassing to him somehow?
