Tiger had always had that effect on me. He had been exciting and scary and I just hadn’t known what to do with myself around him.
I still didn’t.
Him suddenly appearing in Crash’s room like some kind of tattooed avenging angel, bringing all my confused teenaged feelings about him flooding back, had made me freeze. Like I just...couldn’t deal with Crash and him and where I was and what was happening all at the same time. And then he’d picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing at all and my brain had simply shut down.
Sometimes it happened to me like that. When I got overwhelmed, I froze. As if I was afraid something worse might happen if I moved.
I hated it. Or rather, I hated myself when I got like that. Especially when it happened in front of someone so strong and in control.
Someone like Tiger.
And he was just as strong and in control now as he had been back when I was seventeen. Just as tall and muscular. Just as scary. And just as freaking hot.
He was in jeans and a blue T-shirt, that biker leather vest over the top, and he had his arms folded, giving me a glimpse of the incredible tattoos inked into the bronze skin covering the powerful muscles of his biceps and forearms.
On his right arm, a tiger prowled, long and lean and dangerous, its teeth bared. On his left, an intricate, dizzying design of interlocking circles and spirals and all sorts of other geometries. For a second I got distracted, too busy staring at it and trying to follow all the angles to remember that he’d asked me a question.
‘Baby girl,’ he said quietly, in that deep voice that I felt right down low in my belly, ‘I’m not gonna ask again.’
Baby girl. Hadn’t he heard me when I’d told him I didn’t like it? How annoying. I’d hated it back when he’d been my protector, had found it incredibly patronising, but I’d been too shy to tell him to stop.
I had a bit more backbone now, though I got distracted again by the warning note in his voice.
Crap. He was going to make me tell him, wasn’t he? God, what the hell was I going to do now? I didn’t want him to find out what a coward I was. Or how ridiculously stupid I’d been to come down here without a plan.
No, I shouldn’t have cared what he thought of me, but the fact was, I did.
He was so strong and bright and...vivid. He didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of him. He did whatever the hell he wanted.
He was everything that I wasn’t and that intimidated the crap out of me, and the thought of having to spill my guts to him about Dad and my generally being pathetic when it came to emotional manipulation made me feel ill.
But what choice did I have?
Well, you could try distracting him...
That was an option, of course. But how? I wasn’t especially good at small talk and found talking to people in general difficult. Particularly people who intimidated me.
I bit my lip and frowned at him. My panic seemed to have receded, which was a mercy, my brain functioning again, formulating several plans, then discarding them.
Maybe I should ask him about his tattoos. Didn’t guys like talking about themselves? And if I managed to get him talking, then I wouldn’t have to, an added bonus.
Taking a silent breath, I pushed myself off his bed and took a couple of uncertain steps towards him.
He watched me approach, those golden eyes on mine, unblinking, and I felt fear curl up tight once again inside me. But I made myself take another step or two, getting nearer.
He was even more intimidating close up. I wasn’t short, yet he towered over me, a wall of hard muscle and raw masculine power, sending my heartbeat racing into overdrive.
My mouth was dry and I felt shaky, and I had to force myself to speak. ‘Your t-tattoos are amazing,’ I stuttered weakly. ‘Where did you get them?’
This close to him I could feel the heat of his body and smell that delicious scent I remembered from years ago. Leather and engine oil, and some kind of dark spice that made me want to bury my face in his neck and inhale.
Unlike Crash, the thought of being near Tiger didn’t make me want to either cringe or pull away. No, it made me want to get even closer.
God, he made my head swim. Like he had when he’d taken my chin in his hand and rubbed it with his thumb. I’d forgotten my fear the moment he’d touched me, the very second those incredible eyes of his had met mine. And instead of feeling like I was going to freeze to death, I’d felt hot instead. Far, far too hot.
He’d been so close, his beautifully sculpted face right in front of me. And I hadn’t been able to stop myself from looking at his mouth, with that full bottom lip that had fascinated me so completely at seventeen.
It still fascinated me, and, like I had back then, I’d found myself wondering what it would be like to have that mouth on mine. I’d never been kissed before so I had nothing to compare it to, only that half excited, half fearful wondering...
‘Jesus Christ,’ Tiger said, his dark voice rolling over me, making me feel like he’d wrapped me up in black velvet. ‘I swear to God if you don’t start telling me what the fuck is going on, I’m going to call the cops right now and get them to pick you up.’
His golden eyes were full of impatience and anger, and the way he was staring at me made me feel light-headed and dizzy.
So much for distraction. It had been a lame conversation starter anyway.
I dragged my gaze away, trying to control my sudden breathlessness, not wanting want him to know how badly he affected me. I was even shocked at it myself, especially since it had been a good five years since I’d seen him.
‘Okay, okay.’ I turned around and went to sit on the double bed pushed up against the opposite wall.
Unlike Crash’s room, Tiger’s was scrupulously neat, which surprised me, though I wasn’t sure why. The floor was clear of clothes, the quilt straight on the bed. Even the male toiletries and other paraphernalia on the dresser were neatly lined up. Obviously Tiger liked a tidy room, a fact I filed away like I’d filed away other salient facts I’d learned about him in the one month during which he’d guarded me. Not that there were many, since I’d been too tongue-tied to ask him any questions.
But I knew he kept a gun in the small of his back and that he had the most amazing, sexy grin that he turned on any pretty woman who came near him. I knew he rode his bike like it was part of him and that he’d taken his job of protecting me very seriously indeed. Even though he’d hated it, which he’d made very obvious.
You know there’s another way to distract him. One that doesn’t involve conversation.
My brain came to a screaming halt as the thought crossed my mind and my face heated.
Oh, yes, well. There was that. Which was all very well if I’d been some kind of practised seductress. But I wasn’t. I was Summer Grant, and I’d spent most of my life trying to be invisible to as many people as possible.
I was the classic nerd. I had been at school, and the same in college. And since mostly it made people leave me alone, I was okay with it. I didn’t miss parties or the desperate drama that went along with dating. I was happy with my studies, losing myself in numbers and equations, where everything was logical and followed clear rules. It was easier and way more interesting than all the usual college/teenage stuff that other people got up to.
I’d never met anyone I’d wanted enough to bear the hassle of it anyway.
Well, anyone except Tiger.
He was staring at me, that gaze of his almost flattening me with its intensity. He was leaning back against the closed door now, his arms folded across his muscular chest,