herself to breathe, to stay calm.
“You—you know I really do have to get inside. That guy beside me at the bar—he’s my boyfriend. I—I was just trying to make him jealous.” She was grasping at straws, but it was all she could think of at the time.
Relief trickled through her as his fingers paused. But then he shrugged. “Baby, if he was worried about you, he wouldn’t have let you leave with me.”
His mouth came down roughly on hers.
She struggled, pushing at his chest, and he broke off the kiss, but used his free hand to grip her neck in a choking lock, shoving her hard against the wall.
Her mouth gaped open, but no sound came out and no air in. She was going to die.
Just then his hold relaxed slightly, and she managed to struggle in a hitched breath.
“Now, listen, baby.” His voice was hard and his boyish features contoured. “I ain’t had a woman in three years. So I don’t care if it’s all nice and friendly or if it’s rough. Cuz either way, I plan to fuck you.”
Black spots started to appear before her eyes. She couldn’t pass out. She didn’t think that would stop this guy.
The hand at her hemline moved to the front of her skirt and pulled it upward.
She had to keep him talking. Buy a little time.
“Thr-three years is a long time.” Her voice didn’t even sound like her own, breathy and shaking.
He grunted. “Ain’t too many women in the pen.”
It took her terrified brain a moment to grasp what he meant. This guy had been in prison! Fear shot through her. He might have done this before. He might have killed.
But she rallied her willpower, forcing herself to stay as calm as possible. “What—what did you serve time for?”
“This and that. All just labels. Unfairly given,” he assured her with a grin, his boyish smile now sinister.
She swallowed, struggling for another shallow breath. “That is terrible.”
“Well, I’m thinking what you’ve got under this skirt will go a long way to making me feel a whole lot better.” He had her skirt up around her waist, and again black spots flashed in front of her eyes. She was going to pass out. She closed her eyes and fought for air.
All of a sudden, Joey’s bruising grip was gone, and she was able to pull in a deep, lung-filling breath.
She opened her eyes. Joey wasn’t there, but she didn’t look around to see where he was. She ran, not seeing, just knowing she had to get back to the street, to the bar. Suddenly, she slammed into something solid, immovable.
Arms closed around her, and she screamed.
“Shh,” a deep, husky voice said. “It’s okay.”
She blinked up to see the beautiful stranger holding her. She sank against him, allowing him to support most of her weight. Relief churned with nausea in her stomach.
Suddenly he swung her up into his arms, turned and walked out of the alley. Once on the street, he stopped, but he still held her.
“Are you okay?”
Jane nodded, but didn’t speak. Her heart still pounded painfully in her chest while her breath came in ragged bursts.
He continued to hold her against his broad chest. His arms feeling so solid, so safe.
Finally, she calmed and realized that she must be getting heavy. “I’m okay to stand.”
He seemed almost reluctant to let her go, but he did lower her to her feet. Although he kept an arm at her waist as if he thought she might faint.
She wouldn’t—she didn’t think.
“Thank you. I—I can’t even think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped him.”
He nodded slightly, but didn’t say anything. He stared down at her, those amber eyes unreadable. After a few moments, he shrugged out of the expensive leather jacket he wore. “Here, put this on.”
She shook her head. “I have my blazer. I’m fine.”
He shoved it toward her. “I’ll be fine, too. Put it on.”
His gruff kindness touched her. And she’d thought that boyish Joey was the nicer of the two.
She accepted the coat, pulling it on, and was shrouded in cold leather. She shivered. Strange that it would be so cold given that it had just been on his large body.
“Do you live around here?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m at a hotel a few blocks from here.”
He nodded. “I’ll walk you there.”
She smiled gratefully, but then the smile slipped as she cast a wary look down the alley.
As if reading her thoughts, the stranger said, “He’s long gone. The coward.”
She glanced into the dark tunnel once more, then gestured down the street. “It’s this way.”
Before Rhys fell into step beside the little mortal, he concentrated. The ex-convict coward was still in the alleyway, unconscious. He lifted his head and breathed in deeply to commit the coward’s scent to memory, so if the man should rouse and run, Rhys would be able to find him. He meant to make a meal of that one as much for the pixie as for himself.
But the pixie’s sweet, brilliant scent kept overwhelming the coward’s tainted stink. He’d never known any mortal’s scent to be as strong and alluring as hers.
Then her voice as well as her smell distracted him. “Is everything okay?”
He inhaled once more, fairly certain he would be able to track the ex-con if he fled. He turned to her.
She stared up at him, her pale skin lustrous in the streetlight. Her eyes wide, concern clear in their green depths.
Again the sweetness of her amazing scent filled the air. This mortal was truly good. Unbelievable.
He cleared his throat and answered her more gruffly than he intended. “Yes. You said your hotel was this way?” He pointed in the same direction she just had.
She nodded.
They headed down the cracked concrete.
Maybe it had been her genuine goodness that had allowed Rhys to sense that the pixie was in trouble. He’d still been sitting at the bar when all of a sudden the whole room had been flooded with her smell. But it wasn’t the same scent as when she’d first arrived. It had been flowery and warm—but there had been a sharp undertone to it. Then all her emotions were clear to him. Desperation, terror, pain.
That had never happened to him before. He’d never been able to read the emotions of
