Saving Me

by Bella Juarez

  “Run!” he roared, shoving her in the direction of the mansion.

  Holding eye contact with the attacker, he noted in his peripheral vision, Angel hadn’t moved.

  “Go! Now!”

  Getting her to safety became more important than waiting for her attacker to move again. He grabbed her by the arm and, towing her behind him, moved swiftly up the path toward the house. Reaching the door, he swore as he tried the knob and found it locked. He remembered seeing buildings that might offer a place to hide long enough to get the cops on the property. He ran to one of the outer buildings, dragging Angel behind him.

  Despite her protests, he pulled her inside and found a place for them to stay out of sight. He shoved her down in the darkest spot he saw, in between some stacked chairs and crouched in front of her, hoping it would hide them long enough to get out of their dire situation. Like a drill instructor, his mind screamed commands at him, Get help—call 911. He kept an eye on the door from his position and, in just above a whisper, gave the 911 dispatcher a quiet rundown of the situation. He froze at a sound inside the building near the door. Listening carefully, he heard the shuffling of feet…footsteps. Someone’s inside this building. He could see the bottom of the door from his vantage point and hadn’t noticed it opening, so how could the attacker have entered? His blood ran cold when he no longer heard the background noise in his call or the dispatcher’s voice. Glancing at his phone, he saw the call had dropped. He stared at his phone in shock for a moment; there was no way he’d come here so unprepared. His battery dying would be impossible—he’d fully charged his phone on the drive out here. With a sinking feeling he remembered the spare battery in his bag, upstairs in the locked mansion, in his room. Fuck!

  “Are they coming?” she asked in a trembling voice.

  “Yes.” He pulled her close.

  Danger charged in the air like static electricity, making his nerve endings hum and forcing him to reassess their location. Drawing on his tactical training, he closed his eyes and inhaled a musty odor. The stifling atmosphere indicated little airflow through this building. It’s a small place and rarely opened up. Gauging from the junk stacked everywhere, he decided this space was used it as a storage building. Search for a weapon in all this shit. He opened his eyes as lightning flashed beyond the dirty window. The incoming storm would be on them soon. The lightning can give positions away, so keep scanning around.

  He shoved Angel farther into the dark shadows of the stacked junk. Searching the immediate surrounding area , he hunted for something, anything to use as a weapon in case the bastard decided to show himself. He couldn’t tell if the blood pounding in his ears caused him to hear faint sounds or actual movement like the distinct sounds of footsteps. His heart skipped a beat when Angel raised a fearful glance at him. The fright etched on her lovely face made him wonder if she’d heard them, too. Protect her….

  Quietly, he shifted her behind him and laid his hand down to balance himself. Closing his fingers over a steel rod, he felt the ridges in the rounded metal. By the feel of it, it was pig iron. He silently lifted it from the mess it was buried in, calculating how many ways he could use this simple piece of metal as a lethal weapon.

  The footsteps stopped, and a man cleared his throat. Tightening his fingers around the pig iron, he tensed and, from his crouched position, readied himself to attack whoever hunted them. Angel dug her nails into his back, and the footsteps retreated. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, but no one showed themselves.

  Closing his eyes again, he let his senses do some more work. His training and combat experience were so ingrained, he could detect the change in the air of the room, and it had lightened, making him relax a little. Behind him, in the dimness, he saw her fixed, terrified gaze. He clasped her hand in his for comfort and reassurance as he eased himself against the wall. He cradled her in his lap and rocked her as she cried. Tightening his embrace to keep her silent, he kissed the top of her head when she clutched his shirt and buried her face into his chest.

  “It’s all right, baby,” he whispered.

  “Is he gone?” she asked in a childlike voice.

  He stroked her long hair. “For now. Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  She pushed away from his chest and stared at him for a moment. His mouth watered as he stared at her full lips, God, how he’d wanted to taste her, and now he had her as close as she’d ever be. Not wanting her to escape, he slowly moved his hand up her back and caressed the base of her neck. When he drew her closer, her eyes glazed over, and he touched her lips with his, nipping softly to see if she’d protest or move away. Her staying still spurred him on as he captured her mouth with his and sucked on her lower lip. The taste of strawberries and Bordeaux wine served to fuel his passion as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She shoved against him and moaned, but he held her fast, leaving her no option but to accept what he gave her.

  When she slid her arms around him, he released his hold on her neck and wrapped both arms around her. His cock sprang to life in response to her breasts moving against his chest. Their tongues sparred, and his hands roamed the luscious body he’d dreamed about for years. Nothing he’d ever experienced compared to Angel’s simple kiss. He drifted from one breath to the next; each stroke of her hand over his arms made his cock lurch. He ached to feel her touch as she squeezed his biceps.

  This beautiful moment was rudely ripped from him when the door to the building flew open and lights flashed around them.

  “Angel? Are you in here?”

  Chapter Four

  “I’m sorry about all of this, Ms. Rivas. Please accept a weekend at the Inn on us,” the caretaker said.

  “There’s no need. Everything worked out all right, but thank you for the offer,” Angel said, sipping the hot tea set before her.

  The warm liquid flowed down to her toes and gave her a sense of peace. For the first time in a year, she felt like she could breathe again. A warm hand easing over her shoulder made her glance up from her cup. She melted into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

  “Feel better?” Mike knelt next to her chair.

  “Much better.” She traced her fingers over his scruffy face.

  Leaning into her touch, he kissed her palm. The intense cobalt of his eyes made her shiver at the memory of the kiss they’d shared. She understood the meaning of being owned and why it drove women crazy. The surrender he’d drawn out of her with a simple kiss had been an intensely erotic experience. In all of her adult life, she’d never felt the passion he demonstrated in a split second. Too bad it had been interrupted.

  The tiny gestures of affection he’d snuck in to lower her defenses had made her remember why she’d been so in love with him in another lifetime. She recalled the way he’d eased her into conversation. Michael wasn’t like other men she’d become surrounded with. He knew how to take his time, and his attention to the small details would ensure the perfect results. He wouldn’t go for expensive gifts and nights out on the town; it would be about surrounding her with something precious and even a little intoxicating whenever they were together. While they were in that awful shed, he’d eased her fear as he held her. In his arms was where she wanted to be.

  “Did you check your purse? Is everything in there?” Marc asked.

  “Everything’s there,” she said.

  “It’s a good thing you dropped it. Everyone knows you’re my sister; that’s how the responding officer knew to call me. Tell me about Tito Vargas.” Marc took a seat across the table from her.

  “He’s my makeup artist,” she said.

  “He’s also your stalker. He’s the one who was out cold with the knife in his hand,” her brother said.

  A tremor laced with horror ran through her when she thought about a man she’d considered a close friend. They’d met during her first shoot for the plus-size lingerie start-up now almost as big as Victoria Secret. He’d given her his card, and, once she hit it big, Tito had been her go-to hair and makeup ar
tist. He’d made her perfect for every photo shoot and runway appearance. He’d been one of the few people she’d seen when she visited New York. In fact, he’d been the one to suggest the red maxi dress she’d worn on the flight home. She also recalled his chilling words right before he knocked her to the ground.

  I created you; you’re mine.

  If Mike hadn’t stopped him, she’d be dead right now. Glancing at him, she considered how perfect their kiss had been and blushed at the memory. For all of the beautiful men in the world, nothing made a man sexier than being willing to fight for and protect his woman.

  “Wait a minute. He followed us into the caretaker’s cottage. We heard him walking around,” Mike said.

  “And clear his throat,” she added.

  “Wasn’t him,” Marc said. “Brannan, you did some damage with your right hook. His concussion and broken nose might require surgery. He was still unconscious when the squad car responded five minutes after your call.” Marc shrugged. “How’s your hand? Do you need to see one of the medics out there?”

  Mike and Angel exchanged startled glances. She slid her hand into his where it rested on her thigh. Who the hell had been in the caretaker’s cottage with them? Had there been another door they hadn’t seen?

  “No, I’m good.” Mike flexed his free hand, and Angel winced at his cut knuckle and swollen fingers.

  “Do you want me to get the guys to do another sweep before I leave?” Marc asked.

  “No, it’s cool,” Mike said, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “Did you guys figure out why the light went out? Did he cut it or something?”

  “The one near the parking lot,” Angel said.

  “About the parking lot…. Are you sure that light was on? We saw a light fixture on a pole, but, according to the people who work here, it’s never worked. It’s not even connected.”

  “I think I want to go home.” She needed something stronger than tea.

  Marc stood. “Good idea, do you want me to take you home?”

  Catching Mike’s eye, she knew exactly what she wanted. Tito was in custody, and all she wanted to do was slip into Michael’s protective embrace again.

  “No, you’ve got him. Make sure he doesn’t get away. I can get home.”

  Marc grinned as he looked between her and Mike. “Okay, I’ll call you in the morning.”

  As Mike walked her out, she slid her arm around his waist for support. She could get used to his strong arm over her shoulder. He had a quiet strength she could lean on when the world seemed to close in around her. They passed police officers still processing the scene and approached her car. Her steps faltered. At least two of her tires were slashed. Her heart sank, and the full extent of her dire situation became clear. Even if she’d been able to get to her car, there would’ve been no escape and Tito would’ve made good on his threat. Mike squeezed her against him and kissed the top of her head.

  “You could stay with me,” he offered, taking her into his arms.

  “No, thank you. I’ve had enough of this place for one night. I want to go home.”

  Mike leaned down and cupped her face. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Who’s protecting you?” she asked as she stepped back and dug out her phone.

  Not wanting to seem so forward on their first date, she tried to call Marc to have him come back to take her home but found her phone dead. How odd. I made sure it was fully charged before coming here. She hadn’t been here long enough for it to die. She shook the phone.

  “What’s wrong?” Mike asked.

  “My phone’s dead.”

  “Put it away. I’ll take you home.”

  “I thought you were staying?”

  “I can come back after I get you home. Call me in the morning so we can get your car to a shop.” He guided her to a truck parked a few feet away.

  After they’d taken a couple of steps, the sodium lamp that had never been connected came on, bathing the parking lot in a soft light. Angel and Mike exchanged startled glances. A violent shiver shook her, and she had to wrap her arms around him to stay upright. Her already-frayed nerves couldn’t stand much more, and she buried her head into his chest for protection.

  “Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” Mike murmured.

  “First the caretaker’s house and now the damn light. I’ve had enough of ghosts,” Angel declared.

  They turned around and walked toward the CSI team packing up their gear.

  “Excuse me, is that on?” Mike asked pointing to the light that hung on the pole shining brightly. Angel stared at it in weary fright and then directed her attention to the tech.

  The investigator gave Mike a skeptical glance. “Yeah…why?”

  “Just making sure I’m not seeing things. Have a good one.”

  When they arrived at Angel’s house, exhaustion washed over her. Mike walked her to the door, but, when she turned the key in the lock, she realized she didn’t want to be alone. Angel invited him in and went to switch off the alarm. Returning to the living room, she saw him standing at the entrance, waiting.

  “Come in. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something?” she asked, walking to the kitchen.

  “I’m good. Why don’t you relax?” Mike followed her.

  She opened one of the cabinets and withdrew a pill bottle. Mike gently grabbed her elbow and spun her to face him. He folded his larger hand over hers holding the bottle.

  “Do you really need that?”

  “It helps me relax. I don’t take them often, but I’m stressed out right now.”

  Unfolding her fingers from around the bottle, he took it out of her hand and set it on the counter. He cupped her face and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “I can help you relax.”

  Mike hoped to soothe away the unbelievable stress he was certain she’d been experiencing for some time. He’d been surprised when he heard them discussing a stalker, and there was all of the weird, scary shit while they were at the Inn. He couldn’t imagine the stress of her career and the press, not to mention the people who clamored for her attention all of the time. For all the adoration this sexy goddess received, when she closed the door at night, her life reflected his lonely existence. What she needed wasn’t something she’d get from a drug. She needed the long-term, consistent comfort only someone who loved and put her first could give.

  Someone who made her a priority out of love wasn’t something she had much of in her life. She had yes-men, people who told her what they thought she wanted to hear—not what she needed to hear. Having a soft place to land with no obligation to be or do anything other than be herself wasn’t something familiar to her. In his mind, there could be no stronger way to make a connection with her than a physical one. Release would give her an outlet and put her into a relaxed state. He struggled for a way to broach the subject without sounding like every other horn-dog perv who had a thing for her.

  Finally being close to this woman would accomplish so much: forgiveness, reconciliation, but mostly the resolution of unmet desire for both of them. He knew she felt the same way. He could see it in her hopeful smile whenever he talked to her. There had been a spark between them for so long, but teenage peer pressure had kept them from one another. When he’d laid eyes on her again, the pieces fell together as if they were made for each other, and it felt natural to be with her. She completed him. Being with her would ease his lonely existence and give him a sense of purpose. His mission in her life became defined. And, for the first time, he had a reason to fight. She would be the one person in his life who couldn’t be easily replaced. As the events of the night wore on, he saw how lost she’d become, too. Too many people bowed to her every whim. He could keep her grounded and protect her downtime. Taking her hand, he led her to the living room. Before they went any further, he had to make sure he wouldn’t be wasting his time. Losing her again would hurt.

  When she sat down, he knelt at her feet and slipped off her high heels. She leaned back and moaned in sheer bliss when he mas
saged the balls of her feet. He got up and sat next to her and pulled her feet into his lap.

  “Angel, what were you hoping for tonight, before you found out you were meeting me?”

  “I don’t know, maybe someone to connect with. You know what I mean?”

  “I think so, but tell me how serious you planned on getting. Your career doesn’t allow you a whole lot of free time, does it?”

  “I’ve scaled back my modeling and opened a fashion house here in San Antonio.”

  “Do you think running a business will free up your time?”

  She smiled. “No, but it keeps me close to my family.”

  “So, how do you plan on making time for a relationship with someone?”

  “I guess it was a stupid idea,” she said with a frustrated sigh. She tried to pull her feet away, but he held them fast, continuing his massage.

  “I don’t. I think there was a reason we were brought together. When my bosses gave me the gift card, one of them told me to be careful what I asked for because I’d get it. At the time I filled out my profile, I didn’t think I knew what I’d be getting. I wanted to be happy, like they are. But, deep down inside, I knew exactly who’d make me happy and, so far, I’m glad I finally got it. Even if this ends tonight, I’ll never forget the way I felt when I kissed you.”

  “Mike, I knew before I went on the website no normal guy would put up with my schedule and work. He’d have to be a saint, and they don’t exist.”

  He stopped and moved his hands up her shins to her knees. “I’m no saint, baby, but I can figure this out for the both of us, if you’ll let me.”

  The confusion between what she wanted and what her reality allowed made her seem so very young and vulnerable. And as he surmised, she knew what she desired but didn’t know how to ask for it.

  “What do you want from me?”