Who was he? she wondered. Hannah had been born in this town and had lived here twenty-six years. She knew just about everyone in Ridgewater and the surrounding areas, but she’d never seen this man before. She glanced at his motorcycle, lying on its side in the corner of her yard. New Mexico license plates. Just another biker passing through, she supposed.
Hannah still wasn’t certain what had happened. Just a few moments ago, Missy and Maddie had been playing with their dolls on the living-room floor while Hannah had been arguing on the phone with Aunt Martha, the same argument she and her aunt had been having for the past two years.
“It’s not proper, Hannah Louise,” her aunt said every time they spoke. “A single woman raising two little girls in a backwoods Texas town. They need culture and family and a respectable upbringing.” And the demand that Hannah hated the most: “You absolutely must give up your ridiculous idea of a bed and breakfast. We’ll sell the house, then you and the girls can come live with me in Boston.”
No matter how many times Hannah had told her aunt that she and the girls were happy living in Ridgewater, in the house that had belonged first to her grandparents, then her parents, and now Aunt Martha and herself, Hannah couldn’t seem to make the woman understand. To make matters worse, after hearing the crash and Missy’s cry, Hannah had hung up the phone on her aunt.
But she’d worry about Aunt Martha later, Hannah told herself. At the moment, she had a more pressing, more important matter to deal with in the form of a very tall, two-hundred-pound-plus unconscious biker.
The man moved his head from side to side and groaned again. Hannah laid a hand on his arm and leaned closer. “Try not to move,” she said softly.
His eyes sprang open. Hannah opened her mouth to say something, but before anything could come out, the man sat abruptly, an expression of fierce anger on his face as he grabbed her roughly by the arms.
“Where’s Vinnie?” he demanded.
“Vinnie?”
“He was behind me, dammit,” the man demanded. “Where the hell is he?”
“I—I don’t know who—”
“We’re under fire, dammit,” he yelled at her. “Tell Jarris to hold back.”
Hannah placed her palms on the man’s chest and attempted to ease him back down on the grass, but she might as well have had her hands on a brick wall. His fingers dug painfully into her arms.
“I’ll tell Jarris.” She softened her voice. “You just lie back.”
He stared at her with dark, narrowed eyes, but Hannah knew that he really didn’t see her. Wherever he was at the moment, it was far away from here. And it certainly wasn’t a pleasant place, either.
He blinked at her, and Hannah watched the haze clear in his eyes. “What the—” He looked down where her hands were planted firmly on his chest, then back up at her. “Who are you?”
“Hannah Michaels,” she said evenly, though her heart was pounding furiously in her chest. “Now would you please be still until the doctor gets here?”
She pushed on his chest again, gently, but he didn’t budge. “Please.”
He hesitated, then finally his grip loosened and his shoulders relaxed. He lay back on the grass, then suddenly came up again, winced at the effort. “The kid—up in the tree. Is she—”
“She’s fine.” Hannah held pressure on his chest until he was flat on the ground again. “Thanks to you, she is.”
This man, however, was not quite so lucky. Hannah noted the growing lump on his forehead, the blood and scratches, and felt her stomach clench.
“My bike.” He lifted his head to stare at the Harley.
That’s when he started to swear.
“Maddie and Missy.” Hannah glanced at her wide-eyed daughters. They’d never heard such colorful expressions before. “In the house, on the sofa, right now.”
Still holding hands, the girls backed toward the house, then turned and ran up the steps. When the screen door slammed behind them, Hannah had to swallow the emotion rising in her. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened if this stranger hadn’t come along when he had. What she needed to focus on was that Maddie was fine, and the man who’d saved her needed attention.
“I’m sorry about your bike,” Hannah said. “I’ll cover any expenses for repairs, plus medical bills and any other costs incurred to you.”
Of course, she had no idea how she would do that, but she’d deal with that later.
“Forget about it.” He started to rise again, then swayed slightly. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Hannah insisted. “Now lie back down.”
Seth didn’t want to lie back down. He wanted to get on his bike and get the hell out of this town before any more disasters befell him. But he wasn’t so stupid as not to realize that it was his head spinning, not the ground underneath him.
Dammit, anyway.
He just needed a minute, that was all, he told himself. Maybe two or three, before his equilibrium settled back down again.
He looked at the woman kneeling beside him. She was slender, with a wild mass of blond curls tumbling around her porcelain-smooth, heart-shaped face. Her eyes were as big and blue as the sky overhead, her lashes thick and dark.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. Wide, curved at the corners, inviting.
Damn.
Then his gaze dropped lower, over the pink T-shirt she wore and he saw the blood. He frowned. “Is that mine?”
She glanced down. “Your head is bleeding. You really shouldn’t move until the doctor gets here.”
“I don’t need a doctor.” He attempted to stand, hesitated when the ground tilted, then pushed himself up onto his feet.
And immediately felt his legs buckle.
The woman’s arms circled him, steadied him even as the world around him swirled. He had to hold on or bring both of them down. He wrapped his arms around her, blinked several times and sucked in a breath at the rocket of pain shooting up his left leg.
“That’s gotta hurt,” the woman—Hannah—said impatiently. “Now are you going to lie back down, or do I have to get tough?”
If his leg weren’t hurting so badly, Seth might have laughed at Hannah’s threat. Since she weighed nearly half what he did and was probably six or seven inches shorter than him, he couldn’t imagine this woman getting tough.
But as she held him close against her, as the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest registered through the haze of pain, Seth began to imagine other things. His body responded to her closeness and the faint scent of her floral perfume. Though he was certain he didn’t need her assistance, he let her hold him for a moment, let himself enjoy her arms circling his chest and the feel of her slender curves pressed against him. He might be injured, but he certainly wasn’t dead.
“I really think you should lie down now,” she persisted.
In a different scenario, one where they were both naked, those words would have been music to his ears and he would have readily agreed. In this case, unfortunately, he simply wanted to gain his balance back and get the hell out of town.
He stepped away from the woman, wobbled a bit, then looked at his bike. He could see the front rim was twisted. Not good, he thought with a frown.
At the sound of a close, low growl, Seth whipped his head back around, which made the earth spin again.
Definitely not good.
Seth watched helplessly as a German shepherd the size of a pony came tearing at him.
Two
“Beau! Down!”
The animal stopped instantly at the woman’s command and went into a crouch. Seth released the breath he’d been holding.
Good God, he thought. What next? A swarm of killer bees would rain down on him or maybe a meteor would fall out of the sky and he’d be right in its path?
“Good boy,” Hannah said sweetly to the dog. “Stay.”
Beau wagged his tail and obeyed Hannah’s command, but his black eyes quickly darted back to the stranger.
&nb
sp; “Nice dog you’ve got there.” Seth kept a close eye on the animal.
“He belongs to Mrs. Peterson, but he’s sort of adopted me and the girls. He’ll be fine now.” Hannah turned back around. “You don’t have to worry.”
“Did I say I was worried?” Seth said irritably. “I crash my motorcycle through fences, fall out of trees and face ferocious dogs all the time. Just another day in the life.”
Hannah raised a brow. “You must have a very interesting life, Mr—”
“Granger. Seth Granger.”
“Well, Mr. Granger,” she said. “Since you’re so determined to be up, why don’t we get you inside? The doctor should be here shortly and he can take a look at that head of yours.”
“There’s nothing to look at,” Seth insisted, then frowned when the woman smiled. “I mean, I’m fine.”
“Maybe so, but it wouldn’t hurt to—”
“Look.” He brushed grass off his shirt. “I appreciate your concern, and I’m glad your little girl is all right. I’ll just stop by a repair shop in town and have my bike checked, then be on my way.”
Seth wasn’t certain exactly what happened next. He’d taken a step toward his bike and his leg just went out from under him. Hannah gasped and made a lunge at him, but as her arms came around him, intended to stop his fall, she went down, too.
Because he couldn’t stop it, he held her tight and brought her down on top of him, rather than underneath him.
Damn. This was the second time he’d found himself holding this woman close. She felt even better this time, with her body snug against his, lying on top of him. The heat of her skin seeped through his T-shirt and the feel of her long legs stretched out over his made the pain in his leg and the pounding in his head secondary.
At the sound of a low growl, Seth closed his eyes, then sighed heavily.
“All right,” he said through clenched teeth. “You and Killer here win. I’ll wait for the doc.”
“You’re a lucky man.” Dr. Lansky, dressed in a blue plaid shirt and beige fisherman shorts, pushed his glasses up his nose as he stared at his patient’s leg. “Looks like you’ve got just a nasty sprain instead of a break.”
Since the doctor and Hannah had brought Seth into the house and settled him on the sofa, then stripped off his torn T-shirt and slit his jeans open to expose his ankle, he’d been surrounded by chaos. The phone had rung several times, neighbors had knocked on the door and a small crowd had gathered to watch Seth’s motorcycle be towed away by the repair shop. His head was pounding like a drum and his leg hurt like a son of a bitch.
Of all the things that Seth felt, lucky was not one of them.
He ground his teeth together, struggling to hold back the swear words threatening to erupt. At least the cut on his head hadn’t required stitches and the scratch on his shoulder was only superficial. He glanced at Hannah, who stood beside the sofa, her pretty lips pressed together with concern. Seth watched as two little blond, curly-topped heads—obviously twins—peeked from each side of their mother’s hips and stared at him with big blue eyes.
With that blond hair and those blue eyes, Seth thought, there was no question the girls looked like their mother. Given all this commotion, Seth couldn’t help but wonder where the twins’ father was.
Seth glanced at Hannah’s hand. No ring.
“We should X-ray to be sure, though.” The balding doctor continued to stare at Seth’s swollen ankle. “Can’t be too careful, you know.”
“I can drive him to the hospital,” Hannah offered. “Just let me get my—”
“That won’t be necessary.” Seth shook his head, wished that he hadn’t when a bolt of pain shot through his skull. “It’s not broken.”
“So, Mr. Granger—” the doctor slipped his glasses off and settled them in the pocket of his shirt “—along with your ability to fly and scale tall trees in a single bound, you also have X-ray vision?”
“I’ve had a broken bone or two.” Four to be exact, Seth thought, plus he’d been shot once and stabbed twice. He’d be damned if he’d let a twisted ankle get the better of him. “I’ll be fine by the morning.”
“I’m sure you will.” The doctor took a prescription pad out of the black leather bag he’d brought over. “In the meantime, you might want to take some pain medication. I recommend that you stay off that foot for several days.”
“That’s not possible. I need to get back on the road right away.”
Dr. Lansky ripped the prescription from his pad, then handed it to Hannah. “I don’t see any signs of concussion, but keep an eye on him, anyway. Clammy skin, eyes dilated, confusion.”
“Should I change the dressing over his eye?” she asked.
“In the morning should be fine, you can—”
“Hey,” Seth interrupted. “First of all, I’m sitting right here, you can talk to me. Second, I can change my own dressing. And third, I won’t be here in the morning.”
“Whatever you say.” With raised eyebrows, the doctor glanced at Hannah, then looked at the two little girls and smiled. “Mrs. Lansky is outside passing out cookies. You girls want one?”
The children looked earnestly at their mother. Clearly they understood they’d caused all the commotion, but cookies were cookies, after all, and they could only hope.
Any other time, Hannah would have said absolutely not. Any other time, her daughters would be sitting in their room with a major time-out, probably until they were old enough to drive.
But the fact was, Hannah herself was still shaken by the afternoon’s events. She needed a minute or two to gain her composure and every time she looked at Maddie, every time she thought about what might have happened, her hands started to shake.
She crossed her arms and gave Maddie and Missy her you-are-both-in-big-trouble look. “One cookie, then up to your rooms.”
The girls skipped out ahead of the doctor, who cast one long, disapproving look at Seth, then went out the front door.
“I don’t believe it.” Seth laid his head back against the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “I crash my bike and your neighbors are out socializing in your front yard and passing around cookies. Probably fruitcake cookies.”
“Probably chocolate chip, if Mrs. Lansky made them.” Hannah moved closer to the couch. “Would you like one?”
He glanced up at her, and his narrowed, dark expression might have made her step away if she hadn’t already figured out he wasn’t nearly as dangerous as he appeared.
Well, at least, she didn’t think he was.
She’d been so worried for the past hour, she hadn’t taken the time to really look at the man. With his long legs and broad shoulders, he practically filled her small, rose floral sofa. Dr. Lansky had raised his patient’s left leg onto her coffee table, and she’d slipped a sofa pillow under his sprained ankle. He hadn’t complained once that he was in pain, but she’d seen a muscle twitch in his jaw when the doctor had asked him to bend his foot.
His hair was long, nearly to his shoulders, black and thick and shiny. His eyebrows, just as dark as his hair, slashed over eyes as hard and black as obsidian. His strong, square jaw hadn’t been shaved for a while, which only added to that menacing look of his face, and underneath his firm, serious mouth, was a small, jagged scar.
She noticed another scar that sliced like a lightning bolt across his right bicep, let her gaze slide downward to his broad, bare chest, a chest lightly sprinkled with dark hair that narrowed downward over a hard, flat belly and disappeared behind the snap of his jeans.
Oh, my.
Hannah swallowed hard, then jerked her eyes back up to his face. Her heart skipped as he met her gaze with his own. His expression wasn’t quite as fierce as it had been a moment ago, though it was certainly just as intense. She might have been offended at the blatant interest in his eyes if she hadn’t been the one staring so hard at him.
“Mr. Granger—”
“Seth.”
“Seth.” She clasped her hands in front of her. �
�I don’t know how to thank you for saving Maddie the way you did.”
When he said nothing, just gave her a look that said he might have a suggestion or two, Hannah quickly continued. “I’m still not sure exactly what happened, but from what little I managed to gather, she’d accidentally tossed Suzie, her doll, up in the tree and it caught on a branch. Both of my daughters then conveniently forgot they aren’t allowed to climb trees without adult supervision. If you hadn’t come along when you did—”
“I did,” Seth said with a shrug. “And she’s fine.”
“Yes.” Hannah heard her daughters’ laughter outside on the porch and said a silent prayer of thanks. “But you, however, and your motorcycle, are not. I’m deeply sorry for that, and any inconvenience we’ve caused you.”
“Look,” Seth sighed, “it’s done, and it is what it is. I’ll stay overnight in town, get my bike back in the morning and be on my way.”
Hannah put a hand out to stop Seth when he lifted his leg and set it on the floor, but he ignored her warning. She watched as his jaw tightened, and his face went pale. The slow breath he exhaled pretty much said it all: he wasn’t going anywhere on that leg. Not now, and not in the morning, either.
Men. They could be such fools at times.
“Seth.” She sat on the sofa beside him and gently lifted his leg back up on the cushion. Perspiration beaded his forehead. “I admire your determination, but it might be time for you to consider a new plan. I have a suggestion.”
“I can hardly wait to hear.” Seth closed his eyes and laid his head back on the sofa.
“Good. Because you’re going to.”
One of his eyes slid open. Hannah ignored the frown he gave her, then reached for the damp washcloth she’d laid on the coffee table and dabbed at his forehead.
He reached up and wrapped his hand around her upper arm.
Breath held, she waited for him to release her, but he didn’t. Both of his eyes were open now, that dark, intense gaze completely focused on her.
In Blackhawk's Bed Page 2
