Startled, she snatched her hand back. Two weeks ago she’d been arguing with the rodeo clown about how she didn’t like to be touched in public. She finally admitted she didn’t like him touching her. Now here she sat, running her hands through her kidnapper’s hair in front of God and everybody.
Have I lost my fuckin’ mind?
Nik’s eyes snapped opened to find her staring at him like he’d done something to her. When, in fact, she was the one twisting him around her very well-manicured finger. Many women had touched him before this one and many would after he got her skinny ass out of his house, but no one had ever made him lose himself like that before. And this one had done it with a simple touch.
She scrambled to her feet. “We…uh…better get back. The clothes…ya know.”
True, her twenty grand worth of clothes were in the back of his pick-up, but he really needed a moment to, er, compose himself.
“Are you coming?”
Well, that’s a loaded question.
He tossed the keys to her. “I’ll be right there. Gotta clean up all this stuff.”
She nodded and practically sprinted back to the car. He, however, willed his poor dick to behave.
Why did this suddenly feel ten times more dangerous than when he thought an entire Clan of hyenas was out to kill her?
Chapter Four
“Did you buy her a pony, too?”
“Don’t start, Reena.”
“I mean, exactly what is wrong with you? Has all rational thought left you to blow that kind of money on some woman that you don’t even know?”
Nik wouldn’t look at his cousin. Instead he buried his head into the couch cushions.
“Well? Answer me!”
“I think she’s cute,” he mumbled sadly into the expensive leather.
“Oh, good Lord!” Reena launched herself onto Nik’s back, batting his head around with her hands. Funny, it never hurt this much when they were tigers. “Have I taught you nothing?”
“Stop doing that. Now.”
She grabbed hold of his T-shirt and pulled. “Send her ass back.”
With a sigh, Nik sat up, knocking his cousin off his back. When she hit the floor, he barely glanced at her. “I can’t. I’m supposed to protect her.”
“Just ’cause they’re afraid to transport her. Send her in the jet.”
Nik found himself suddenly interested in his bookshelves. Maybe he should get new ones.
“Nikolai Vorislav, them dogs don’t know about the goddamn jet, do they?”
“It’s none of their business.”
“They left her here because they had no other way of safely gettin’ her back to wherever the hell those dogs roam. But if we can take her ourselves—”
“She’s stayin’. And I’m not discussing this anymore.”
“The woman hit you with a toilet.”
“She was scared. I almost think she regrets it now.”
“You think she regrets it. I think the bitch is crazy.”
Nik sighed again. “Yeah. But damn if she don’t look good in a sheet.”
“I’m leavin’.” Reena stood, clearly disgusted by her cousin. “The boys will be home from their daddies’ soon and you’re starting to piss me off.”
Reena took several steps away from him and spun around. “And just so we’re clear, you’re turning into your daddy.”
Fangs burst from Nik’s mouth. “I am not turning into my daddy.”
Reena folded her arms in front of her chest. “Did you care that Alek and Ban didn’t see her naked?”
Nik glared at his cousin, but didn’t answer.
Reena chuckled. “Too late.”
Angie sat on the floor of the bedroom that was now her temporary home. Shopping bags surrounded her and she went through each one, pulling out and meticulously folding each item. It gave her hands something to do while she silently beat herself up.
What the hell had possessed her to rub the man’s forehead?
She wasn’t like Miki and Sara. Though they hid it well, both craved affection and love. Angie craved occasional sex and not to get the shit annoyed out of her. Otherwise, she happily co-existed with herself. She didn’t even have a pet. The only full-time companions she needed were her two best friends, but even they went home at night.
Angie carefully folded a gold tank top and laid it on the pile. She shook her head.
Why the hell am I unpacking? Getting comfortable?
Sara wouldn’t get comfortable. Sara would have gotten drunk and beaten the brothers within an inch of their lives. Miki would have…well, Miki would have dug an underground tunnel, extricated herself a safe distance, and then blown the house up.
Neither of them would be unpacking clothes after a little shopping spree with their kidnapper.
Wow. She really was a girl. Could she be any more girly? Any more dull? Any more dangerously weak and stupid and female?
“Hey, darlin’.” That came from the balcony of her room. Without missing a beat, Angie grabbed one of the baseballs she’d purchased from the sports store, crouched, turned, and pitched it.
The ball slammed right between the eyes of one of the hillbilly brothers. “Shit!”
Startled and hurting, he went to grab his head, forgetting he was on the other side of the balcony. The outside of the balcony. He fell back, disappearing from sight.
“Uh-oh.” Maybe she should have waited before attacking. She wasn’t too sure how well the family would take to her killing one of their own. Especially after trying to kill the other brother earlier.
Grabbing another baseball—just in case—she quickly walked to the balcony, and leaned over the railing.
Three of Nik’s siblings were down there and she guessed the two hysterically laughing were the ones who had not been on her balcony.
“What are we looking at?”
Angie gasped, his voice right in her ear. Big arms braced on either side of her.
The motherfucker is in my space!
Angie turned and swung with her free hand at the same time. Her hand contacted with a concrete slab…or a hillbilly chest. Either way, she felt like she’d broken her knuckles.
“Motherfuckinggoddamnsonofabitch!”
“Aw, sugar. Did you hurt your hand?”
Angie didn’t know what annoyed her more. The fact her punch didn’t even faze him or that he hadn’t moved back away from her. Yeah. She was sure of it.
Both annoyed the shit out of her.
“Lemme see.” He took her hand, but she snatched it back before he got a good enough grip on it.
“Keep your hillbilly paws off me.”
He held his hands up. “Okay. Okay. No need to get all hysterical.”
“I am not—” Angie took a deep breath and did the counting technique her anger-management counselor taught her. Ten. Nine. Eight…
“And what exactly are you gonna do with that?” His eyes glanced at the baseball in her hand and back at her.
She looked up into his smiling face. No. He didn’t smile at her. He smirked.
Condescending prick.
She looked at the baseball in her hand and, for a brief moment, Nik thought she might try and shove it up his ass. Man, this woman was quite the hellcat.
Instead of rectally damaging him, she muttered, “Three, two, one,” under her breath, and calmly looked at him. “Pick something.”
Nik looked down into that pretty face. “I’m sorry?”
“I said pick something. Anything around here, and I’ll nail it. Dead on. I used to date a minor-league baseball player.”