Make Me Yours (15 page)

What the hell?

Before he could even push away from the Rover, it came again, and his gut chilled the instant he realized it was a woman's cry being choked off.
Oh, shit
. The stark sound of fear echoed in his head as he jammed his phone in his pocket and started running, his pulse roaring as fury flooded his veins. Jesus, he could be such a stupid, stubborn fuck! He wanted to keep cussing his sorry ass out, but forced it to the back of his mind, years of training sharpening his focus. By the time he rounded the concrete corner, he had his gun drawn, his gaze scanning the scene. Most of the staff at the clinic kept long hours and there were still a few dozen cars parked on this side of the parking deck. He headed straight for the doc's black Audi, but she was nowhere in sight.

No, damn it. This could
not
be fucking happening. Not after he'd been standing around, acting like a jackass.

“Cramer?” he barked, his rough voice echoing across the rows of vehicles. In a far corner he could hear a car driving off, probably one of her coworkers, but they were too far away to even hear him. “Where are you, Doc?”

Nothing but silence greeted him as he quietly moved through the cars, and then he heard it. Another muffled, choked cry, as if a woman had tried to call out before someone shoved his hand over her mouth. The sound had come from just ahead of him, on the other side of a massive Ford Excursion. Alex crept around the back of the SUV, picking up what sounded like the almost silent rustling of someone's clothes brushing against another person as they struggled against them, and he rounded the back corner with his gun raised, his stomach sinking as he took in the situation with a swift glance.

A man of slim build and medium height was wearing a ski mask and holding Brit in front of his body, and he had a fucking knife at her throat. It was small, like a pocketknife, but it didn't matter. The bastard could still do some serious damage with it if he wanted.

The male's other hand was smashed over her mouth, her hands curled around his forearm as he jerked her backward.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” Alex growled, ready to put a bullet between the man's eyes. But he couldn't take a shot when the son of a bitch was holding that knife on her.

“I've already called for backup,” he bluffed, when her attacker just kept dragging her backward, toward the exit door a couple of yards behind them. “You can't make it out of here with her.”

The bastard made a choked sound of frustration, his brown eyes darting from side to side. Alex was on the verge of making another threat, driving his point home, when the man suddenly shoved her away, ducking in front of the neighboring truck before Alex could get a clear shot at him. He could hear the guy making a run for it, his gaze cutting from Brit's feminine form sprawled across the ground to the shadowy recesses of the parking structure.

Shit!
He hated this fucking scenario. But there wasn't any question of what he was going to do. Sure, the furious motherfucker inside him wanted to take off after that asshole and beat him to a pulp. Thrash him until he was nothing but a gruesome stain on the ground. He didn't do it, though. Instead, he shoved his gun into his shoulder holster and hurried over to the doc, taking hold of her upper arms as he helped her to her feet.

He hadn't allowed himself to look at her face before that moment, knowing he would have lost it if she'd looked terrified. But he couldn't wait to get a good long look at her now, needing to assure himself that she was okay.

“Are you all right?” He somehow gentled his touch as he pushed her auburn hair back from her face, hooking it behind her ear. “Doc, are you all right?”

She managed a nod, blinking in shock as she leaned against the Ford and touched her trembling fingers to her throat.

“Was it Shepherd?”

“What?” she croaked, pale and wide-eyed as she stared up at him.

“The asshole who had you at knifepoint. Was it Shepherd?”

“I . . . I think so. I didn't see his face, but it sounded like him.”

“Fuck.”

“I'm so confused.” Her hair fell back in her face as she shook her head. “What's going on? What are you doing here, Alex?”

Ignoring her question, he asked, “What did he say to you?”

She pushed away from the SUV, hiked her sliding purse strap back up to her shoulder, then smoothed her hands over the bronze silk of her dress. “Seriously, Alex, where the hell did you come from?”

“Worry about me later,” he ground out. “Right now, you need to tell me what happened while it's still fresh in your mind. Did he say anything to you?”

“Yes. He did.”

“What was it?”

She drew in a deep breath, eyeing him with a heavy dose of suspicion as she took a step back. He could tell her mind was rapidly working to come up with an explanation for why he was there. “I'd rather talk to someone from the sheriff's department.”

“Tough shit,” he snapped, pissed by the way she was acting, as if he was fucking diseased when he was the one who'd just saved her. “I'm here and you can damn well talk to me.”

She suddenly gasped, then covered her mouth, those long-lashed hazel eyes becoming huge in her pale face. “Ohmygod!” she whispered. “He didn't. Tell me that Ben did
not
put you up to this!”

Alex held her stare with narrowed eyes, watching the shock continue to seep into her expression as everything began to click into place for her. “You want the truth or a lie?”

“Damn it! He had no right!”

Wishing like hell that every breath he took wasn't pulling her mouthwatering scent into his lungs, he forced his next words through his clenched teeth. “Cut the bullshit, Brit. Whether we like it or not, he made the right call. If I hadn't been here, watching you, you'd be in a hell of a lot of trouble. Either dead or getting carted off to God knows where, about to suffer through shit that I don't think you even want to imagine. So suck it up and act like a fucking adult.”

Her nostrils flared. “You truly are an arrogant bastard, aren't you?”

“Right now, I'm the arrogant bastard who saved your ass, so try to remember that when you're breaking my balls.”

“I want nothing to do with your balls!” she yelled, turning and smacking her hands down on the hood of the SUV, damn near denting the metal.

“Jesus Christ, Brittany! Calm down before you hurt yourself!”

She sucked in a sharp breath the instant he barked at her and spun toward him so quickly he was surprised it didn't make her dizzy. “You have
got
to be kidding,” she whispered, blinking those long lashes. “What did you just call me?”

Despite the softness of her tone, Alex felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, signaling danger. “Uh, Brittany,” he muttered.

“Are you
serious?
I don't believe this. Don't call me that! Ever!”

She was shouting at him again, and he lifted his hands, saying, “Whoa, okay. You're being sensitive or some shit. I get it.”

“You don't get anything. I'm not sensitive,” she snapped, her big eyes bright with anger. “I just expect you to get my freaking name right!”

Now
he
was starting to get pissed. “What the hell are you talking about? That
is
your name.”

“No. It. Isn't!”

“Fine, whatever. I get it. You hate my guts,” he snarled. “Any chance you want to explain why? I've never done anything to you. Hell, we hardly ever even talk to each other.”

She went from looking pissed to stunned before Alex could so much as draw his next breath. “Do you honestly have to ask?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling for patience. “It appears so, since I can't read your mind.” God, this woman drove him crazy.

“Do you even know
you?
”

“Uh, do I what?” There were times when the doc talked in fucking circles. It made his head hurt, which he could understand. What he couldn't account for was why getting screeched at by the redhead had him having to concentrate to keep his dick from getting hard. Talk about wrong time, wrong place.

She took a step toward him, her hazel eyes flashing with indignation. “I asked if you even know yourself, Alex. Because last time I checked, you were the same asshole who tried to talk his brother out of getting involved with the best damn thing that's ever happened to him!”

She was pissed at him because of something he'd done to Ben and Reese? What the fuck? Sure, Alex had made no secret in the beginning that he thought Ben was crazy for getting involved with Reese. But what did that have to do with Brit? Would he ever understand women? All this time Brit had been giving him the cold shoulder, he'd thought she'd finally clued in to the fact that he was a lost cause.

Losing his patience with the entire situation, he took hold of her arm and started pulling her toward the Range Rover on the other side of the parking deck, keeping an eye out for Shepherd along the way, just in case the idiot was stupid enough to come back.

“What are you doing? My car is over there!” she said, pointing toward the Audi.

“You're not driving your car. I'm putting you in mine so I can get you the hell out of here.”

“I don't want to go anywhere with you.” Even though he wasn't looking at her, he could actually feel the seething force of her glare against the side of his face. “I want to call the sheriff's department and go home.”

“I didn't ask, Doc.”

“I
hate
it when you call me that.”

He grunted, figuring at this point that it was better to keep his mouth shut. But when she continued to glare at him, he gave in. “I made it right in the end,” he pointed out. “With Ben and Reese.”

She made a sharp, sarcastic sound under her breath. “And you expect to be applauded for the fact that your guilt got the better of you?”

Reaching the passenger's side door of the Range Rover, he shoved his hand into his pocket, hit the button on his key fob to unlock the doors, and slid her a dark look of warning. “I don't expect a damn thing from you other than your usual behavior. But don't act like you know me. Because you don't.”

“I know enough,” she shot back, her creamy complexion now flushed with color.

“Like hell you do. You know what I've wanted to show you and that's it.”

She pinned him with a piercing look that lifted the hairs on the back of his neck again, that look moving over him like a physical touch. “So then it's deliberate. Is that what you're saying? You act like an asshole around me because you want me to think you're an asshole?”

“I don't want you thinking about me at all.”
Lie!
“All I want is for you to shut up, listen, and do what I tell you. Nothing more, nothing less. Got it?”

“And if I don't?” she asked, arching one eyebrow as he released her arm and yanked the door open.

“You can either climb up there on your own,” he muttered, jerking his chin at the seat, “or I can put you there. Either way, you're getting in, Doc.”

“Such. An. Ass.” She bit the words out one by one, but did as he'd told her to, damn near taking his face off when she reached out, grabbed the handle, and slammed the door shut.

Working his jaw, Alex made his way around the front of the Rover, climbed into the driver's seat, and started the engine.

Guess what? I call bullshit.

Yeah, he'd known that was coming. He could lie to everyone else, but it was damn hard to lie to your own self.

Would he do his best to see that a woman in trouble got the protection she needed? Of course he would. But he wouldn't feel driven to personally provide that protection. To put his life on hold and his body on the line.

No, there were only a handful of women he would feel the need to do
that
for. His sister-in-law. His friend Ryder's wife, Lily. Maggie, his elderly neighbor who baked him chocolate chip cookies whenever he dropped by for a visit.

He tried to convince himself that the stubborn redhead who'd just planted her gorgeous ass in his car didn't qualify. That she didn't belong in that small, select group. But as he steered the Range Rover out of the parking deck, checking the rearview mirror to ensure they weren't being followed, Alex couldn't silence that damn know-it-all voice in his head.

You're such a fucking liar . . .

Rhyannon Byrd
is the author of the Dangerous Tides novels
Take Me Under
and
Keep Me Closer.
An avid, longtime fan of romance, she has written more than twenty erotic and paranormal titles, and her books have been translated into nine languages. After having spent years enjoying the glorious sunshine of the American South and Southwest, Rhyannon now lives in the beautiful, but often chilly English countryside with her husband and family.

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Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books.
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