Once Upon a Valentine (14 page)

The throbbing in his hand made him clarify that thought—
almost
defenseless women, with sharp teeth. God, something was seriously wrong with him that he found that so damned sexy.

Her brow scrunched. “Paid? You mean…”

“Yeah. Somebody hired me to watch over you.”

“Who?”

“Frankly, lady, that’s what I’d like to know. Just who are you, and what, exactly, are you up to?”

Still sounding skeptical, she asked, “You want me to believe you don’t know why someone would be hunting me, or why someone else would hire you to protect me?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’ve been called a liar before.” He shrugged. “Considering I just saved your ass, though, maybe you ought to cut me a break.”

She sucked in a surprised breath. “You’re from over
there.
”

He knew what she meant. Most people here didn’t talk about Earth, just as most people on Earth didn’t talk about Elatyria. Considering he had roots in both worlds, he didn’t see the need to be coy about it. “I’ve been tracking you since Philadelphia.”

Her eyes widened more as she stared searchingly at his face. Her beautiful lips parted, her breaths audibly moving over them. Then, with a gasp, she looked away, long lashes sweeping over her eyes. “I remember you,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

He gaped, shocked that she’d seen him. “Seriously?” He must be losing his touch.

“You were at the store right across the street from the motel, buying a big box of chocolate candy for your…what is that holiday called? Your valentine?”

He sighed heavily. “My mom.” Given this case, he’d nearly forgotten the holiday was this week and had run out super early one morning to get a few gifts. He’d
thought
Ashlynn was still sound asleep in her hotel room. Apparently not. Shit.

Interesting that she’d remember him. More interesting that she wouldn’t meet his eye. Hmm.

“How long have you been following me?”

“Long enough to know you’re in some kind of trouble.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she proclaimed, even as her arms tightened around the leather satchel she always carried, which was about the size and shape of a laptop case. It didn’t take a genius to know there was something in that bag she was desperate to protect and that it wasn’t a laptop, since Elatyria had that whole “no electricity” thing to deal with. While he wasn’t one to nose into other people’s business, if her precious cargo was making her a target for hired thugs, he’d like to know what it was. Especially because, as her temporary bodyguard, he was in the line of fire, too.

“Well, thank you for your assistance,” she said. “And for warning me about the Hunters. But now that I’m aware of the situation, I really don’t need your help anymore. I’ll wait until darkest night to go back to the village.”

He barked a laugh. “You’re not going to Foxglen.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

He stopped and faced her. “I was hired to protect you.”

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” she snapped.

“No, you didn’t, but here I am. So why don’t you stop arguing and tell me what this is all about?”

He moved in close. She quivered as he invaded her space.

Raine took advantage of her distraction. Without hesitating, he reached out and grabbed the satchel from her. “Then you can fill me in on what’s in this bag.”

2

ASHLYNN MIGHT BE BOOKISH and she might have spent much of her life in classrooms and museums, but she was no coward. Thinking only of the piece of map, tucked securely inside her bag, she lunged at the annoyingly attractive stranger. Her hands fisted, she also lifted a knee sharply, aiming for his groin.

“Oof,” he yelped when her knee came close to its target.

“Give me that,” she snapped.

The man was too tall for her. In spite of being in pain, he lifted the bag out of reach and spun away. When Ashlynn swung a fist at him, he caught it in his much bigger hand. “Hit me one more time, lady, and I’m going to forget I’m a gentleman.”

“Nobody would mistake
you
for a gentleman!”

“Insults, huh? Guess you really don’t want this back.”

She ground her teeth in frustration. Then, remembering what he’d said, she glared at him. “You say you were hired to protect me?”

He nodded warily, as if not trusting her now that she wasn’t trying to attack. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think
protection
includes stealing my property.”

“I don’t think whatever’s in this bag
is
your property.”

She flushed a little. Because, while she had the best intentions and wanted to use the map to find the castle for its archeological benefits, she hadn’t exactly bought and paid for it—just the book inside which it had been carefully hidden. She’d found it, recognized it and bought it, without letting the seller know exactly what it was he was selling.

As if some underage clerk in a dusty old store would have even understood if you’d told him.
Of course he wouldn’t, no more than most others on Earth would. They believed her world was a fantasyland made up of fairy dust, talking frogs and moonbeams. They had no idea fairy dust was toxic if ingested, talking frogs were often possessed by the evil spirits of dead witches, and full moonbeams brought out the beast in many locals.

But this man, this irritatingly sexy man—who she’d seen once, buying that silly heart-shaped box, and then had the strangest dreams about for the next two nights—would recognize it. He’d know it was important. And he might refuse to give it back.

Or, stealing it might have been his objective all along.

There was one way to find out, even if it was risky. “I say it is my property. If you want to stop me from taking it back you’re going to have to hurt me. Which doesn’t go very well with that ‘protection’ job you claim to have undertaken.”

“I could stop you without hurting you,” he said, his eyes gleaming in the faint shafts of moonlight. “Or, at the very least, distract you enough that you wouldn’t care anymore.”

The hint of a smile on his sexy mouth and the thorough stare he raked down her body told her where his thoughts had gone. Ashlynn had to swallow hard, feeling that stare as if it was a touch. Like one of the many touches he’d given her during her long, heated dreams—the most sensual she’d ever experienced.

“Don’t even think about it,” she whispered.

He inched closer, though the satchel remained behind his back. She would have to step close to that rock-hard body and reach around him to try to get it.
It’s not going to happen.

“I can’t not think about it. I’ve lived next door to you for weeks. Listening to you roll over in that creaky motel bed. Hearing you try to sing in the shower.”

She gasped when she realized he’d been right there, beneath her nose, and but for that one visit to the store, she had never even noticed him.

He lifted a hand to her hair. “Smelling your scent in the air as I walked ten steps behind you.”

Ashlynn trembled. Tried to breathe, but found it difficult. But not because she felt threatened—she didn’t fear physical assault from this man. If that had been his intent, he’d had his chance when he’d had her hunched to the ground, at his mercy. No, this assault would be purely sensual. Provocative.

Possibly irresistible.

It had been a long time since a man had sent a rush of heat through her, making her feel slightly dizzy, weak in the knees. He’d done it on first sight. Now, close up, he was truly causing her world to spin beneath her feet.

“Don’t come any closer,” she ordered when he eliminated another inch of space between them.

“What’s in the bag?” he whispered.

She swallowed, hard. “That’s none of your business.”

“Then I guess you won’t be getting it back anytime soon,” he said, his smile almost pleasant. “Unless you want to
take
it.”

He sounded confident that she wouldn’t, as if he could seduce her right out of her property. Damn him.

Was he right? She did feel so strange, so unlike herself. Unsure.
It’s because you know he’s dangerous.

Maybe. Or it could be because he was so incredibly sure of himself. Or because he’d possibly just saved her life.

Or because he was so unbelievably handsome.

Mind-numbingly so, with dark blue eyes made almost purple by the night. She hadn’t seen his eyes on that previous occasion and had been imagining them brown. But no, they were like the richest shade of royal velvet.

They were striking against his thick, jet-black hair, which hung a little long, almost brushing his shoulders. His strong, squared jaw hinted at determination, while the faint stubble on it invited thoughts of lazy mornings and the rasp of skin on skin. And his wide mouth, which held a hint of a smile, was the kind women longed to taste on sight—soft, sexy, wry and inviting.

Damn.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, wondering if the rich air was affecting her. It certainly wasn’t like her to start picturing illicit touches and caresses with a stranger.

Moonlit madness.
And the lingering effects of dreams she should never have had. That was all. She was back in Elatyria, where everything seemed magical, mystical. Not like Earth, so dull, blunt and immediate. Here, fantasy and reality merged and swirled together. A brigand who stole from her could almost seem like the hero she’d fantasized about since she was a child hearing her father’s stories of fair maids and the noble men who rode to their rescue. Here, a paid adventurer—possibly a thief—could suddenly seem like the man of her dreams.

Well, all right, he
was
the man of her dreams. But only in the literal sense.

She opened her eyes, seeing the way his mouth had opened as he drew a slow, steady breath across his lips. His eyes gleamed with wickedness and his big, hard body was dressed in clothes more suited to a pirate than a prince.

That should have been enough to end her mental wondering. Instead, it heightened it. Because, to her, pirates had always been ever so much more interesting than boring Prince Charmings.

The long stare continued. His eyes hunted her face for a clue to what she was thinking. But there was no way she would reveal it. Finally, though, she focused only on her quest, on how hard she’d worked and how far she’d come. No way was some sexy rogue going to deter her from finishing what she’d started.

She stiffened her jaw, determined not to show the thoughts he’d inspired with his casual, sensual threat. Then, unsure whether she was driven more by anger or desperation, she bit out the words, “Give. Me. My. Bag.”

Her tone, or perhaps her unflinching expression, apparently convinced him. He finally lowered the satchel and let her take it. “You win.”

She sighed in relief. She’d done it, convinced him she was unaffected by him, that he couldn’t charm his way into revealing her secrets.
Maybe he wasn’t convinced. Maybe it’s all a trick.

“I can’t force you to trust me. Though, you could give me the benefit of the doubt since I just saved your life.”

Her life.
Could someone really be prepared to kill her for a few torn pieces of parchment? No, of course not for the parchment. For the castle to which those torn pieces of parchment led. And what was, supposedly, in that castle.

Legend said the Sleeping Beauty’s family had been so anxious to leave the castle that they’d left behind their treasures. It sounded silly, but if they really had been asleep for centuries, they might have believed everything around them was touched by the dark curse that had left them there to rot. That was one theory, anyway. Another theory was that it was not true, that they would have taken an hour or two to pack up the good stuff.