“Holy Fuck,” she whispered to herself.
Settled in the corner with his back against the wall, his industrial-sized arms were folded over a hulk-like chest. Tan skin stretched tight and firm over every inch of him. Dark blond hair sat tousled atop his head, carefree and wicked sexy. And his eyes—his intense blue eyes glowed in the dark. His gaze travelled along her body from head to toe as she drew near. She’d never felt so exposed. Not even in the playroom.
“Okay my superhero, what can I buy you to drink?” The words were barely audible because her throat had closed tighter than a corked bottle. She studied her feet and the scuffed hardwoods as she attempted to clear the shag carpet from her larynx.
“Superhero?” His chuckle soothed her jagged nerves. When he smiled, his eyes shone brighter than the sun making its first break through black clouds after a passing storm. “A superhero wouldn’t have given that fucker a chance to get anywhere near you to begin with.” The smile morphed to a frown. “I’ll take a beer please, whatever you’ve got. The darker, the better.”
* * * *
Jane’s Bar wasn’t at capacity, though busy enough to keep Grayce from talking to him. He didn’t care. He’d found her. Well, he was ninety-nine percent sure she was the one. If not, he’d have to commit suicide because the attraction was not one of earthly origin, but that of the heavens. Now, to find the right time to break the news.
Zander was more than content to spend his evening in the corner. Screw that, he was downright ecstatic. For the first time in his life, the stars had aligned and all was right with his world. Shit, he’d make the very chair he sat on a permanent home if it meant he could get twenty-four hour, nonstop Grayce time.
The woman was jaw-dropping gorgeous with her petite, curvy stature, exotic hazel-green eyes and lips that begged to be devoured. Damn.
Unable to peel his eyes away, it didn’t take long to notice the changes in her demeanor anytime a man approached. Her body tensed, tone of voice faltered, facial expressions darkened, even her posture altered with the slightest touch. Where did this fear take root? Who did this to her?
It was his fault. If he’d found her sooner, tried harder, maybe she would’ve been spared whatever anguish haunted her spirit.
Grayce cleared glasses behind the bar, and occasionally shot a glance his way. Wielding a wet towel and a bottle opener, a voluptuous redhead worked alongside her and gawked like a lovesick teenager. A couple of young women made their way to his table, flirty, underdressed and confident that at least one, if not both, would be invited home with him. Not taking his eyes off his woman, he shot them down and turned them away. If he wasn’t mistaken, Grayce fought back a smirk at the shattered expressions on their faces. Made his heart swell. She cared. Just didn’t know it yet.
As the night rolled on, Zander’s agitation became unbearable. The urge to castrate every man who entered was irrepressible. A feat he could easily accomplish in the blink of an eye. Shit. They wouldn’t leave her alone. Every male who walked through the door made a pass at her, whether they came with a woman or not. Fuck, she was like a douche bag magnet.
He growled under his breath but didn’t act on his protective instinct. Watching her defend herself proved more entertaining as the evening progressed. Her foul mouth and steely glare were enough to turn any would-be-suitor into a cowering little boy. Her razor sharp tongue had wounded many souls.
If one more drunk asshole made a move on Grayce, Zander was in danger of claiming numero uno on the FBI’s Most Wanted List for murder, as well as a dozen other crimes he could imagine committing all in the name of defending his lady. If he had his way, he’d throw her over his shoulder and march straight out of there. Never let her come back.
The decision to leave pained him, but Zander decided it safer for everyone within a two block radius of the bar if he did. He scribbled a note on a napkin and snuck through the back door when she wasn’t paying attention. Yeah, it was better that way. If he’d waited to say goodbye, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind he’d be taking her with him whether she consented or not.
* * * *
“Grayce, I don’t know what the deal is, but if you don’t take that sexy beast home and fuck the holy living shit out of him, I will.” Jane winked and tugged Grayce’s braid. “Where’d you find him, anyway?”
“Well, um, he kinda found me.” She pondered the day’s events. Her brain reeled from her near abduction, but mostly from her overwhelming attraction to the blond warrior sitting in her bar. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a rewind button. If she’d stayed in bed, well, shit, would another woman have been attacked instead of her?
For a fleeting moment, Grayce felt an ache in her gut when she realized Zander’s chair was empty. The ache turned to anger as she pushed through the drunken crowd to clear his table. What the hell? Emotions like these were not her style. A note was scribbled on a napkin with a generous tip folded underneath.
I would love to sit here and watch you work all night. It’s hypnotic. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. However, a superhero’s work is never done, and alas, I’ve been called away. Here’s my number, call me when your shift is over. I’ll drive you back to your car. Z
“Seriously? Hypnotic? Beautiful?” she asked, grumbling to no one. “Must be drunk.” She crammed the note and money into the pocket of her too-tight jeans.
“Grayce.” A sharp stinging smack to her backside caused her to knock a half empty glass of beer to the floor. A flood of fury crashed down on her and everything turned red. The table, walls, people. Red.
“What the fuck?” She turned to find a regular, Crazy Joe, as she liked to call him, dragging his tongue across a cracked lip and eyeing her up and down. Obviously inebriated enough to have forgotten she’d nearly broke his wrist last time he touched her, he swayed on unsteady legs and gave her a wink.
“Darlin’, you are so gorgeous. Let me take you home tonight.” His slurred words were fuel to the fiery anger burning in her gut.
Grayce straightened herself and jetted her chin up. “You fucking touch me again, I’ll kill you.”
The man smiled and placed his hands on his hips. “Cock tease. Bitch. You know you want—”
Before he could finish, Grayce’s fist met his jaw with such force that blood sprayed across the table and landed decoratively on the wall. Stunned, but too drunk to register pain, the man stumbled a step or two, then landed with a loud thud at her feet. Impressed with the strength she’d pulled out of nowhere, Grayce inspected her fist for damage. Nothing. Not a cut, bruise or even a red mark. As she surveyed the room, it was no shock to discover all eyes were on her. But she was surprised to find she was still seeing red—literally.
After her shift, which ended moments after the ambulance carted away the drunk asshole, she grabbed a ride home with Georgia, who conveniently lived a few short blocks from Grayce’s apartment.
“Your car in the shop again?” Georgia asked with her trademark sneer. The two had never been particularly fond of each other. Grayce didn’t make friends. Why bother? Being on the run wasn’t great grounds for nurturing relationships.
“Yes.” Grayce rolled her eyes and lied. “She’s in the shop again.” She lacked the energy or patience to explain the truth. No way was she going to impose on Zander. So, it was take a taxi or accept Georgia’s offer for a ride home.
“I met someone. Totally hot. Rich too.” Georgia waited for Grayce’s response. When it didn’t come, she continued. “Get this. He let me drive his Porsche. God, it was amazing.”
“Uh-huh.” Did Georgia honestly believe she gave a fuck? Grayce nodded and pretended to listen as Georgia rambled. Man, that was the longest ride of her life.
Her apartment was small and cozy. She