Lure of the Tiger (Aloha Shifters: Jewels of the Heart Book 4)

by Anna Lowe

  The men saw the silk dress she’d been instructed to wear that evening — or rather, they did their best to see through it, undressing her with their eyes. The women eyed her overdone hair as if she’d sprouted Medusa’s snakes instead of having submitted to two hours of styling prior to this black-tie event.

  You’re a model now, Richard had told her. Act the part, honey.

  Richard, her new boss — a man she was ready to punch. She wasn’t a model. She was just a woman who needed money for a good cause — and soon.

  Her jaw hurt from the frozen-in-place smile, and her feet ached. She longed for her flip-flops — or better yet, to run barefoot through the grass. It was one of those beautiful Maui nights — too beautiful to spend cooped up at a cocktail party. The trees rustled, tempting her to escape. The birds seemed unusually still, as if something was lurking out there. Not a bad something so much as a mysterious, new something that pulled on her like a magnet. Which was funny, because it was usually the ocean that gave her that feeling. Like the breakers rolling into the shoreline not too far away, tempting her like a siren’s call. That’s where she belonged — carving the waves or running across the sand. That was her element. But there was something about the woods tonight that drew her in.

  Then Richard had come along and reeled her back to the present with his cutting words.

  Save the wild child look for the camera, baby. Now get your sweet ass back to the party and do as your contract says.

  She scowled. Right — her contract. Everyone always warned her to read the fine print, but of course, Jody hadn’t. She’d assumed the written version matched the verbal deal she’d made. There were all kinds of hidden clauses such as making appearances at events like this.

  So once again, she’d shown a little too much faith in mankind. But, hell — if you didn’t have faith, what did that make you?

  Gullible? a voice dripping with sarcasm murmured in her mind.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, snagging a glass of water from a passing waiter and downing it in a gulp before heading back to work.

  That’s what this party was — work. A show. She was a product, and her employers wanted her on display. Jody Monroe, elite model in the new Elements fragrance line.

  She scowled. Up until recently, she’d been Jody Monroe, surfer girl, up-and-comer on the pro scene. Back home, she was still Jody, daughter of Ross Monroe of Wild Side Surfboards. A girl who lived life to the fullest, the way her parents had urged her to. Not selling out to the mainstream. Marching to her own drum. Wiggling her toes in the sand.

  With a grimace, she wiggled her toes in the too-tight shoes. God, what had she been thinking?

  Then she straightened her shoulders and gave herself a pep-up nod. She’d been thinking of how much she owed her family and how this deal could solve all their problems in one fell swoop. She’d decided with her heart more than her mind. So, she’d do what she had to do, damn it. And when it was all over, she could go back to her old life with a sense of pride.

  She paced through the hallway to the main porch where the bulk of the party guests gathered, glancing in a mirror as she went. Her blond hair was the right color, but it had been teased and sprayed into a swept-up hairdo to show off a pair of dangly earrings. Her blue eyes didn’t sparkle the way they usually did — the way her dad said reminded him of her mom. Her shoulders were thrown back in their usual defiant pose, but that was it — a pose that hinted at the real Jody inside. But on the whole? She shook her head. Who that painted woman in the mirror was, she had no clue. It sure wasn’t her.

  “Darling, come tell us what it’s like to work with Richard,” a woman beckoned her onto the main porch.

  Jody held back the retort on the tip of her tongue. You mean Richard, the conniving, sexist pig?

  “Honey, I want to introduce you to one of our sponsors,” a man said, snapping his fingers as if she were a circus animal at his beck and call.

  “Sweetheart, how about a picture over here?”

  She clenched her teeth. Did no one know her name? Still, she stepped toward the wide staircase where the others were gathered. Mingling was part of her contract, as Richard never failed to remind her. And if nothing else, she was outside where she could peek at the stars.

  All for a good cause, she reminded herself, stepping outside. All for a good cause.

  “Wait.” A low, dark growl sounded from behind her, stopping her in her tracks.

  It was the quietest voice in the crowd — a cross between a feline purr and an impatient snarl. Seductive yet scary at the same time. A firm hand closed over hers, tugging her back. She whirled, snatching her hand away and curling it into a fist.

  “Watch it.” Her contract didn’t say anything about being touched, that was for sure.

  Dark eyes blazed at her before darting over her shoulder to scrutinize the crowd.

  Jody stared at the man. A new arrival at the party, no doubt. She would have noticed him earlier, for sure. His face was all hard angles and sharp curves where light danced with shadows. His eyebrows formed a dark, upswept line, much like his cheekbones. One second, his eyes were dark and mysterious, and the next, they shone yellowish-green.

  “Get away from the stairs.” He nodded her to his side. And damn it, his whisper was so urgent, so commanding, she complied.

  “What’s wrong with the stairs?”

  Instead of answering, he boxed her in, shielding her with his body. The man wasn’t much taller than her five foot eight — though all that muscle chipped into his frame made him seem twice her size — and he couldn’t have been much older than her twenty-seven years, but there was a seasoned warrior quality about him. Raw, pulsing energy, too, like a powerful animal released from a cage.

  Her defensive side wanted to demand what his problem was, but her soul wanted her to reach out, touch the man’s arm, and help him talk through whatever it was that bothered him so much.

  She settled for crossing her arms. Man, was he intense.

  “What?” she demanded.

  He stepped closer, and the edgy feeling she’d had all night intensified. The man was a one-man SWAT team, swooping in to protect her from whatever was about to go down — and something was going down, if she read his eyes right. That, or he was a lunatic of some kind.

  He came so close, she shut her eyes and inhaled. He was the only man at the party who didn’t smell like bottled chemicals. He smelled of the sea and of grass and of salt air. Even a little of sweat – fresh sweat that glistened on his brow as if he’d come hurrying over to her.

  His nostrils flared, testing the breeze before he grunted a reply. “Come with me.”

  “I’d love to escape this party, but that isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she shot back, keeping her voice low so no one could hear.

  “You… What?”

  The surprised flash of his eyes told her he was used to having his orders followed. Well, she was used to making her own decisions — for better or worse.

  “Tell me why I ought to come with you, and I might consider,” she said, staring him down.

  The man stared back. Or rather, he glared, trapping her in the kind of standoff that ought to have ended in an angry huff with one of the two of them stomping away.

  It won’t be me backing down, she let her tipped-up chin say.

  It sure as hell won’t be me, his eyes blazed.

  So they stood glaring, and a minute ticked by. But the longer she held his gaze, the more her body heated and the faster her heart thumped. The noise of the party receded, and the rise and fall of his chest mesmerized her. His chest, his scent, and the dark eyes that flashed like a wizard’s…

  Neither of them uttered a word. He seemed as tongue-tied as she was, though his stormy eyes never stopped dancing over hers.

  Then he blinked, and his eyes narrowed on something behind her. “Shit.”

  A split second later, he lunged for her, and all hell broke loose.

  Something whizzed by her arm, and a glass shat
tered. A woman screamed, and others followed suit.

  “Gun! Gun!”

  “Oh my God!”

  “Get down!”

  The deadly spit of a rifle chipped at the stone terrace, punctuating the cries. People rushed in all directions, knocking each other over. When a waiter with a tray went sprawling, glass splintered and champagne splashed.

  “Quick. Follow me,” the dark-eyed man said, grabbing her hand.

  Another shot rang out, making the light overhead explode. Glass shards rained over Jody’s back as she ran. Whoever this stranger was, he was right about getting away.

  The man rushed her down the length of the porch, dodging panicked partygoers. He pulled her down a set of side steps and into the garden, away from the woods. Jody stumbled, but he hauled her to her feet and hurried her on like she was a football and not a grown woman. Then he rushed her around a corner of the building and crouched, pinning her against the stone foundation.

  “What’s going—”

  “Shh,” he hissed. His hand tightened around hers.

  “Who’s shooting?” She craned her neck for some avenue of escape, but she couldn’t see a thing, not with his body sheltering hers.

  “Take those shoes off,” Dark Eyes said.

  “What?”

  “We have to run. Lose the shoes.”

  That suggestion, she was all in with. When she slipped off the heels, her bare toes squished into the moist earth, and her feet sighed with relief.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You’re in danger.”

  No shit, Sherlock, she nearly said. “You’re in danger, too.” When he shook his head, she scoffed. “Oh, and you’re impervious to bullets? Do you have supernatural powers or something?”

  He tilted his head at her, and his mouth opened then promptly slammed shut. “You’re the one in danger. You need to come with me.”

  Whoa. Getting away was one thing. Taking off with a perfect stranger was another.

  “Why should I trust you?”

  His mouth twisted as he considered.

  “I’m not sure you should,” he finally said, so quietly she nearly missed it.

  Jody gaped, trying to figure him out. But that, she decided, might just take a lifetime, given the hard-etched lines of his face.

  He looked away then snapped his eyes back to her, going from not-at-all-certain to resolute warrior again.

  “That way.” He motioned. “Stay low. Go. Go.”

  He shoved her, and Jody had no choice but to comply. She sprinted across the lawn, away from the pandemonium in the club. Whatever was going on, she wasn’t sticking around to find out.

  Her feet hammered across the lawn, easily keeping ahead of Dark Eyes until—

  A spitting sound whizzed by her ear, and she dove.

  Dark Eyes dove, too, shielding her with his body. Jody hit the ground hard and came up wild-eyed, searching the woods. Shit. Someone really was shooting at her. Why?

  A single red point glowed from far away, and her chest heated. She glanced down and yelped at a red dot that appeared on her bodice.

  Death, she realized in a strangely removed way. Death had her in its sights.

  She froze, incapable of twitching a muscle or drawing a breath. This was it. She was going to die.

  Dark Eyes went wide-eyed. “Shit.”

  Shit was right. She didn’t want to die. But she couldn’t lift a finger, much less jump to her feet.

  In the next instant, everything went from slow motion to superfast.

  Dark Eyes’s lips formed the word No! as he leapt for her — right into the line of fire. A moment later, he grunted and slammed into her — hard. They both jolted sideways before bashing to the ground.

  Jody yelped. Dark Eyes groaned. And, pfft! Another nearly silent shot punctured the ground by her arm.

  For one horrified moment, Jody lay still, waiting for the pain to register. But then Dark Eyes took a raspy breath, and she realized she hadn’t been hit. He had.

  And just like that, she charged into motion again.

  “Get up. Get up!” she insisted, dragging him to cover behind the stone fountain that gurgled cheerily.

  Outwardly, Jody was in control, but inside, a voice screamed. Oh God. Oh God. He’s hit. He took a bullet for you!

  The man kicked at the ground, pulling his legs into the small, sheltered space.

  “Are you okay?” She crouched, snapping her head between her injured helper and the woods.

  Please, please, let him be okay.

  When she touched his back, her hand registered something hot and sticky. Blood.

  A dozen garbled first aid instructions rushed through her mind, all jumbled together. Call for help! Check airways! Monitor pulse!

  She ripped off the lower part of her dress, pressed it against his back, and started lying through her teeth. “You’ll be all right. We’ll get help. It will be okay.”

  She expected the man to groan or pass out, but instead, he rolled under her and worked his way up to his knees, swaying.

  “We have to go,” he rasped.

  Jody blinked. “You’ve been shot. You’re bleeding.”

  “I’ll be fine.” His face drew into ever sharper lines.

  She’d felt the bullet propel his body against hers. How could he be all right?

  “We have to get out of here,” he said, grabbing her hand.

  “We should wait for the police.” And an ambulance, she wanted to add, but she didn’t want him to panic. He was probably operating on some kind of extraordinary adrenaline rush. The second the pain set in, he was sure to collapse, right?

  “My car’s not far,” he said, pulling her into cover behind a tree.

  She dug in her heels. Flying bullets aside, she was nuts to follow a perfect stranger in a situation like this. But something about him was strangely believable, even if she couldn’t put her finger on what that was. Instinct urged her to follow him and never look back.

  Rationally, she knew it was crazy to even consider. But emotionally…

  Go with your heart, her dad always said.

  A second later, she was racing along with Dark Eyes, retreating into the night in another spontaneous decision she’d be sure to regret. But it felt like the right thing to do, even if a man that badly injured shouldn’t be moved. He shouldn’t even have been able to get to his feet.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “It just grazed me,” he said through clenched teeth.

  The shot Jody remembered hadn’t grazed anything. It had hit full on.

  “But…but…”

  “I’ve had a lot worse, believe me,” he grunted as he ran.

  She wondered what kind of man had suffered an injury — or injuries — worse than a gunshot. Although it must have just been a graze. Because he stood straighter with every jagged breath as he led her in a wide circle around the parking lot. He dipped, grabbing a bag of some kind, then strode along, pulling her through a hole in the fence and onto a gravel road outside the resort grounds.

  “That way,” he murmured while scanning the woods behind them. “My car is on the right.” Then he eyed her bare feet and whispered in a gentler tone. “Can you make it?”

  Jody’s jaw hung open. The man had just been shot, and he was worried about her feet on the gravel?

  Either he was crazy, or there’d been a miracle she’d somehow missed.

  “Sure,” she whispered as another little bit of her defenses crumbled. Maybe the tough guy thing was all an act. Maybe Dark Eyes wasn’t quite as scary a character as she’d made him out to be.

  A good thing she spent a lot of time barefoot in her usual daily life — her nice, quiet, safe life that had never seemed quite as precious as it did just then. Otherwise, she would have had a hell of a time picking her way across the gravelly path. It didn’t bode well that Dark Eyes was leading her away from the resort, but with more shots spitting into the night, that seemed like her best option.

  “There.” H
e pointed into the shadows.

  What started as a faint shape against the trees became a steel gray Lamborghini. Not at all what she’d been expecting, but she raced for the passenger side anyway. She couldn’t guess what plan might have been racing through mystery man’s head, but by now, she’d decided two things. Number one, he’d thrown himself in front of a bullet for her. If that wasn’t proof she could trust him, what was?

  Number two, she was all in.

  He leaped into the convertible — really leaped in a single bound — while she clambered into the passenger side. And with a scream of wheels and scattering of gravel, they were off, skidding through a tight turn and zooming down the road. Jody rushed to buckle her seat belt then braced both hands against the dashboard. Dark Eyes didn’t bother with a seat belt. His gaze jerked between the rearview mirror and the cone of light cast by the headlights. Seconds later, the chew of gravel under the tires turned to the smooth hum of asphalt as the car squealed onto the main road.

  “Are you really okay?” Jody ventured.

  He gave a curt nod and checked the rearview mirror, no longer hunching. No longer groaning either. It was uncanny.

  “I’m fine.”

  She glanced at his back, but it was impossible to see any sign of his wound in the dark. For the next, long minute, there was no sound but the roar of the engine and the spin of tires over the road.

  “I’m all for getting away, but do you have to drive at warp speed?” she asked.

  “Yes. I do.”

  He pointed. The road ahead flashed with red and blue police lights, and a half-dozen squad cars rushed past, headed for the club. The wind lashed her hair as she swiveled to watch them race by, and when she twisted forward again, the wind whipped her hair all over her face.

  Jody laughed out loud, and Dark Eyes shot her a sidelong glance. He seemed to do everything out of the corner of his eye. Sidelong glances, flashing glares that darted here and there.

  “What’s so funny?” he barked.