AdonisinTexas (2 page)

Ginger could barely breathe, what with the hand on her mouth
and the enormous body covering her much smaller one. Not to mention the fear
and anger seizing her soul.

“Your curvy little body feels good beneath me,” the redhead
said, his breath laden with alcohol. “You’re making me hard.”

Her eyes widened in terror.

“Bet you’ve got a tight, wet pussy,” he murmured in her ear.

Ginger’s alarm escalated. At the same moment, the door of
the boutique flew open. She heard the
whoosh
it made and the crazed
jingle of the bell above. Unable to actually turn her head to see who’d barged
in, she hoped like hell it wasn’t a friend of the two men accosting her.

The stranger said, “Well, this is a bad situation to find
yourself in, darlin’.”

His words made her stomach plummet. She struggled against
the man holding her captive, uncertain as to whether or not the one who’d
joined them planned to free her or add to the nightmare she suddenly starred
in.

But the dark-haired robber was quick to say, “This is a
private party, pal.”

Ginger instantly perked up. They didn’t know this guy! He
must have seen the two rowdies follow her into the shop and when they hadn’t
come out, he’d decided to intervene.

And by the hesitation in the thief’s voice, she suspected he
thought the intruder was the “husband” Ginger had mentioned. That ought to make
both men wary.

The surge of nerve that had spurred her to stand up to Lydia
on the street sparked the guts it took to jerk her knee between the redhead’s
legs. She nailed him squarely in the balls. He instantly released her and fell
off the settee.

“What the
fuck
?” his friend roared. But he didn’t
have a chance to do more than that as the third man rushed him and they slammed
to the hardwood floor. Ginger sat bolt upright and then leapt to her feet.

She was about to run out of the shop, but was oddly rooted
in place as the blond stranger, with the build of a professional wrestler,
swiftly flipped the dark-haired man onto his stomach and twisted his arm behind
his back, shoving it upward so his fingers grazed his shoulder blade. The man
let out an agonized grunt and his friend scrambled to his feet and hobbled out
the door as Ginger stared at the broad back of her savior in astonishment.

He effortlessly hoisted the guy up. Ginger backed away to
clear a path for them and inadvertently ran into an end table. The
Tiffany-style lamp perched on it toppled over, the stained glass shade
shattering as it hit the floor. Losing her footing from the impact with the
table, Ginger fell, landing flat on her back. A sharp cry slipped from her lips
as pain lanced through her body. The blond instantly released his detainee and
lunged toward her to help her stand. Blood oozed from her elbow where she’d cut
it on a shard from the lampshade. The robber made a mad dash for the door as
she sank onto the plump cushion of the settee.

Ginger stared up at her hunky rescuer, her heart suddenly
jumping into her throat. “Oh my,” she whispered in awe, instantly recognizing
him. His brilliant blue eyes were impossible to forget. “I know you.” Though
she’d not seen him in many years.

He grinned. An easy, sexy lifting of the corners of his
mouth that stole her breath.

“Yeah, you do.” His low tone was deep and intimate and it
held a slight southern drawl. He glanced around her shop, then asked, “Where do
you keep the first aid kit?”

She was bleeding all over the white cushion of the delicate
sofa. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered. “I swear the Lord must be telling me
lingerie is the devil’s clothes.”

He stared curiously at her. “Wanna explain that?”

“Never mind,” she mumbled.

Her heart returned to its normal location. Her pulse slowed.
Dread set in. Despite the fact she was completely blown away by Ryan Bain
standing before her in all his Adonis-like glory, she couldn’t see past the
disappointing reality that faced her. He was Jonathan and Lydia Bain’s nephew.
And she wouldn’t be surprised if he had a pious lecture up his sleeve about
letting those two strangers into her shop. Or about the boutique, in general.

She shook her head, finding it incredibly ironic Ryan had
been the one to save her. Worse, he completely enthralled her with his large,
hunky body, devastatingly handsome face and mesmerizing blue eyes. She’d been
wrong about there being no such thing as instant lust. Yet it was a moot point.
This man was strictly off limits.

Ginger attempted to stand, but he held a hand out to keep
her seated.

“Just hang tight, sweetheart.” Concern for her safety and
well-being flashed in his captivating gaze. He likely wanted to chase after the
criminals, but it was quite clear he feared leaving her alone. “Tell me where
to find the Band-Aids.”

“Bottom drawer of the cashier’s desk,” she said, trying to
ignore how his causal term of endearment lit a bonfire within her. The
sensation warred with the dread she’d experienced over him being related to her
nemesis.

She cupped her bleeding elbow in her palm as he went for the
bandages. The cut stung, but she was more upset over the attack and her damaged
furniture. The asshole with the dark hair had run off with her cash too.

Fury ripped through her, but she reminded herself she was
safe now and that mattered most.

Her angst lingered, however, as Ryan returned and knelt
beside her.

“How’d you know those guys followed me in here?” she asked,
myriad emotions running rampant within her, including the relief she hadn’t
become a rape statistic.

“I was across the street at the diner when I saw them come
in behind you. Didn’t look as though they were the sort you’d be friends with.”

“No.” She shuddered. To distract herself from the hellacious
scare she’d had, she asked, “You in town for the rodeo?”

He grinned again and it made his eyes shimmer under the soft
lights. “Longer than that, I hope.”

She hadn’t seen Ryan Bain in seven years, since they’d
graduated high school and he’d gone off to a Christian college in Arizona. As
teenagers, they’d been friends, but he’d been too wrapped up in sports and
bible study to pay much attention to her.

While he’d been attractive back then, he’d grown into one
seriously gorgeous man. But he was a Bain, which meant she had to completely
disregard her hormones as they kicked into high gear at his nearness.

Damn it, though. He was breathtaking, with crazily mussed
blond hair and vibrant cerulean eyes. He had a strong jawline, chiseled cheeks
and a sexy smile. Dressed in a black, button-down shirt, black jeans and boots,
he had a devilish appearance that complemented his commanding presence. And he
had a hotter-than-hell body with broad shoulders and powerful-looking thighs.
His shirtsleeves were rolled up to reveal sinewy forearms and she imagined his
biceps were just as muscular.

He easily sparked carnal cravings she’d never experienced
before. Her fingers suddenly itched to glide over his tanned skin or tangle in
his tousled hair.

But that was all bad and wrong. So much so, her body tensed
at the unexpected and highly forbidden situation she’d found herself in with Ryan.

Apparently, he mistook her tension for fear.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ginger,” he told her in a low
voice as he reached for her arm.

“I know,” she said with a soft smile. She forced herself to
relax, wanting to prove she wasn’t afraid of him. The truth was, Ryan was one
man she’d trust with her life. He’d always been very kind to her and her
grandfather and she’d secretly had a crush on him in high school.

His big hands were gentle as he lightly clasped her wrist
with one and her upper arm with the other, just below the short sleeve of her
blouse. His skin was warm and supple, his touch downright electrifying. She
squirmed in her seat at the tickle of sexual awareness along her clit.

Ryan carefully turned her elbow to inspect it. “I don’t see
any glass. Doesn’t look too bad.”

He released her wrist and dabbed at the blood with a couple
of tissues he’d snagged from the box on her desk. She winced and his gaze
jerked up to meet hers.

“Sorry,” he said, an apologetic expression in his hypnotic
eyes. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“It’s not your fault. I was clumsy.”

“You were likely terrified,” he said as he set aside the
tissues and unzipped the canvas-covered first aid kit sitting on the cushion
next to her. He tore open a packet of triple-action antibiotic and grazed the
cut with the moist pad. She refused to utter a sound over the burning
sensation, not wanting to make him feel bad.

He covered the laceration with a bandage and then stood,
tossed the scraps in the trash bin and returned the first aid kit to the desk
drawer.

“Thank you,” she managed to say, her mouth having gone as
dry as the Sahara as she stared at his enticing backside. The man’s ass did
incredible things to a simple pair of jeans.

When he was done, he sauntered back to the settee and she
admired how stealthily he moved, especially for such a big guy. He had to be
six-two or three, and he was so magnificently built, she had to tamp down the
sigh bubbling in her throat.

“Do you have a broom handy? I’ll clean this for you.” He
gestured toward the shattered glass.

“I don’t. I have a service that will be in first thing in
the morning. I’ll pay them extra for dealing with the mess.”

He knelt beside her again so she didn’t have to crane her
neck to stare up at him. And maybe so he didn’t intimidate her. Ginger pressed
her legs together because her skirt had raised a few notches during her ordeal.

Resting her hands in her lap, she said in an honest and
humble tone, “I would have been in very serious trouble if you hadn’t come
crashing in.”

He gave her that easy grin that made her stomach flutter.
“You did a good job with the redhead.”

“I’m not sure I would have taken the risk if you weren’t
here. He was really heavy and he didn’t look to be the type of guy to piss off
if I didn’t hit him hard enough to get him off me.”

Ryan brushed a long blonde curl from her face and asked,
“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Shaken, but I’ll survive.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to take some self-defense classes. There’s
not much to you, sweetheart.”

He stood again and walked back to the desk. The receiver of
the phone had hit the floor when she’d been attacked. He picked it up, then
eyed her over one ridiculously broad shoulder. “You almost got a call into
911?”

“Yes. I told them to take my money and get out, but they
wanted me to go with them.” A tremor rippled through her at how horrific the
incident could have been had Ryan not interceded.

With a lifted brow, he asked, “They robbed you too?”

Ginger sighed. “Took all the cash I’d made today.” She shook
her head and said, “I seriously cannot catch a break.”

“We’ll see about that. I’m calling the sheriff. He’ll find
these guys—and maybe get your money back as well.”

Ginger shot to her feet as adrenaline rushed through her.
“No, no, no!” she said as she scurried over to the desk and grabbed the phone
from his hand. “You can’t do that.
Please
don’t do that.”

He stared incredulously at her. “You were robbed and
assaulted, Ginger. We’re reporting it to the police.”

Clutching the handset to her chest as panic pressed in on
her, she said, “Word’ll spread.”

“And that’ll put people on guard so it doesn’t happen again.
I got a good look at the dark-haired guy, and the other one left his beer on
the table. His fingerprints will be on the paper bag. They should be easy to
track down. They probably have prior arrests—something tells me you’re not
their first victim.”

“No, they knew what they were doing.”

Point proven, he held his hand out and said, “Phone.”

Ginger’s heart sank. Giving him an imploring look, she said,
“I can’t let your aunt and uncle find out about this, Ryan. I can already hear
the ‘I told you so’ in Lydia’s voice. She can’t stand my boutique and I know
she’ll tell the whole town I got what I deserved for advertising my
‘pornographic’ clothes on the street.”

Ryan’s brow furrowed. “First, I’d hardly call these clothes
pornographic. Sexy, sure, but in a sophisticated, classy way.” He glanced
around, then added, “They’re all very frilly and girly and… I don’t know.” He
shrugged. “I like ’em.”

That little tickle between her legs turned into a sharp
tingle that was distracting, but also incredibly enticing. Foreign, yes, but
she enjoyed the stimulation, given her lifelong lack of it.

“Second,” he said, “you absolutely did not deserve—or
encourage—what happened to you. I saw you hurry inside to get away from them
and, Ginger, you’ve never dressed provocatively, invitin’ that kind of
attention.”

He spoke the truth. She wore a navy skirt with a respectable
hem, just above the knees, and a short-sleeved, button-down satin blouse in
ecru. The heels on her comfortable shoes, which matched the color of her skirt,
were low and sensible, since she stood most of the day.

“Finally,” Ryan concluded, “who is my Aunt Lydia to pass
judgment on you or the lingerie you sell?”

She gaped. Never in a million years would she have expected
Ryan Bain to say such a thing.

He chuckled at her startled expression and added, “I’m not
saying anything bad about her, mind you. I just think, you know…to each his—or
her—own. Live and let live. That sort of thing.”

Ginger nearly melted into her sensible pumps. “Wow,” she
said, “that’s very open-minded of you.”

“Don’t go lumping me into the self-righteous group, darlin’.
I’m no troublemaker, but I’ve committed my fair share of sins. I’m not one to
cast stones.” He winked playfully at her and her nipples tightened behind her
lacy bra at the intimate gesture.