Peppermint Creek Inn (3 page)

“You are one lucky lady. C’mon let me help you up.” His white teeth flashed as he smiled in the lightning flickers and then he extended his hand toward her.

Sara hesitated only a moment before sliding her hand into his outstretched palm. He pulled her to her feet.

Without warning, the shakes hit. Full force.

Her legs wobbled.

Reaching out to him for support, her hand wrapped tightly around his upper arm. Muscles greeted her. Enormous muscles. Firm and unyielding.

Even through the thick, cool fabric of the leather jacket, she could feel them. God, but the man was built.

Something hot and wild stirred deep inside her womb. A sexual craving she hadn’t felt for a long time. Something she thought she’d never feel again.

Explosive visions ripped through her mind, visions of this dangerous man wrapping his arms around her naked body, kissing her face and lips, fucking her senseless.

She shook her head of the unwanted thoughts. To allow these wonderful feelings to flood throughout her body was wrong. Very wrong.

“Hey. Take it easy. I said I wouldn’t hurt you. Really. Everything is going to be all right.”

The soft way he looked at her made her believe him…that is until she spotted the metallic glint strike off the item dangling from his wrist.

Squinting through the muddy darkness, she tensed. An awful shiver crept up the full length of her spine.

Oh, shit! The guy was wearing handcuffs! Hysteria edged into her mind again.

For God’s sake! He was an escaped criminal!

“What do you want from me? Why are you here?”

“I need your help.”

Was this guy seriously demented? “My help? Just like that. You stick a gun in my face, scare me to death and now you want my help? No way! I’ve had enough. I’m out of here.”

She rushed past him and through the open doorway.

Shards of lightning blinked off and on through the sky illuminating the disarray compliments of the fallen tree.

Instantly she knew she couldn’t get around the wreckage, not unless she went back into the kitchen, past him and out the door at the rear of the house. And right now she didn’t want to go inside.

Back to him.

The lightning had parted the giant beech, as if God himself had swung an ax through the wild heavens slicing her tree perfectly in half. Half the tree had fallen into the parking lot, burying her truck beneath the debris. The other half had crushed the stairs, the entire wheelchair ramp, part of the wooden railing and a large runaway branch had ripped away the rest of the glass from the already broken windowpane.

All this in the exact spot where only moments earlier, she’d stood watching in horror as the tree had hurtled toward her.

The full impact of what had just happened sunk through the layers of her tattered emotions.

Shock. Anger. Finally, confusion. If he hadn’t grabbed her and pulled her out of the way, she would have been dead.

The sobering thought struck a massive blow to her midsection. Her stomach convulsed violently. A cold sweat blistered across her forehead.

Inhaling a deep breath of cool Spring air, she welcomed the sweet aroma of freshly broken wood into her lungs and continued to stare at the remnants of Peppermint Creek’s once beautiful romance tree. Its gnarled twisted fingers desperately reached out to her, screaming for her help.

She knew she wouldn’t be the only one upset about the tree, for it held numerous initials and hearts from many people who came repeatedly to stay at the Peppermint Creek Inn.

She sniffled back a salty tear and felt her heart beating happily against her chest. A strange hushed tingle of excitement took hold of her cold, shaking body. A small giggle bubbled from her trembling lips as a more pleasant thought struck.

She was alive. She’d cheated death. Survived another tragedy. As abruptly as the laughter had erupted, it quickly died in her throat.

The stranger! Moments ago he’d threatened her life with the gun. And then he’d swiftly turned around and saved it. He wasn’t the shadow after all. The shadow would have killed her, or so she imagined.

So, who was he? What kind of help did he want from her? Blinking back hot tears, she hugged her shivering body and waited for the shakes to subside. And she dug deep down inside herself, gathering some of the courage she knew she’d need to face this sexy stranger again.

Wincing at the blazing pain searing through his lower back and the massive headache battering his brain, he slumped heavily into the nearest chair.

Shit!

He shouldn’t have scared her like that with the gun. Simply knocking on the door and walking in as nonchalant as possible would have been sufficient.

Earlier when he’d first spotted the house and the storm had first broken—he’d sought refuge on the swinging porch chaise. He’d fallen asleep, or more appropriately passed out. He’d slept hard, real hard, totally oblivious to the downpour hammering on the porch roof.

Eventually a noise had sunk through the soothing layers of sleep and he’d awoken and seen the two pinpricks of headlights bursting through the storm. Fearing the cops had found him, he’d quickly scrambled for cover to the side of the house. Then he’d seen the pretty woman sitting behind the wheel of the truck.

It seemed like an eternity that he watched her, mesmerized by her natural beauty. Instincts told him he’d seen her before. Somewhere.

But where? When?

He couldn’t remember anything before last night.

Why he wasn’t panicking about not remembering anything was anyone’s guess, but for some reason, he felt as if he might be better off not knowing his past.

What he did remember was the woman stepping out of her truck and the fantastic way her long auburn hair had billowed around her heart-shaped face in the rising wind. In the blinking lightning she’d looked like a goddess coming out of the fiery heavens to fetch him and he’d almost stepped out to greet her, but a silent warning to be very careful had stopped him cold. Taking no chances, he’d pulled out the gun and followed her inside.

When he’d first seen her slamming down the phone, her cute face twisted in fury, he’d wanted to take her into his arms, to comfort her, to kiss away her anger but then she’d seen him standing there in the doorway and panic had raged in her eyes. He’d known she was about to scream, to run away from him and he’d grabbed her, instantly drowning in her wonderful, sweet, peppermint-scented body. He’d found himself transfixed by her sparkling eyes, yet it was the seductive curve of her rosebud lips that sent a scream of primal sexual hunger searing through his cock, making him want to dig his fingers into her tumbling mass of silky hair and kiss her ‘til she begged for more. He’d almost done it, but thankfully self-control had prevailed, and he’d stupidly let her get away and almost allowed her to be killed by that damned tree.

When he’d seen the lightning strike, time had quite literally frozen stiff. Then the tree began toppling toward them and he’d been paralyzed by a hideous fear. Not for his safety, but for hers.

Thankfully, something had snapped inside him, and he’d felt himself inch toward her.

He’d wanted to scream. Yell at her to move. But the words had remained trapped in his paralyzed throat.

She’d just stood there, stiff against the railing. Mesmerized by the spiraling timber. As if she’d been waiting for death to strike.

Her earlier words hovered in the blackness of his mind like a heavy dark cloud.
Put me out of my misery
, she’d said. Had she in fact been waiting for the clutches of death to take her?

He’d grabbed her violently. Too damn violently. But he’d been so scared. He’d pulled her away from the ugly clutches of death. Hurling her toward safety. And best of all—back into his life.

“Thanks.” Her soft feminine voice made him jump clear out of his chair. The unexpected movement sent excruciating pain sizzling throughout his back. He cursed under his breath. He hadn’t heard her come back. Yet somehow he knew she would return.

She stood in the open doorway. Wild wind blew her auburn tresses every which way. Her short ski jacket provided hardly any protection against the bleak elements.

He cocked a teasing eyebrow.

“Thanks for what?”

“For saving my life!” she said suddenly angry, as if surprised he’d already forgotten what he’d done for her.

“My pleasure.”

“Was it?” she snapped.

Her voice bristled like a porcupine but the memory of her soft body curving warmly beneath him on the kitchen floor was still fresh in his mind. The intense fire shooting throughout him as he’d covered her made his balls and cock stiffen painfully against the god-awful prison of his tightening jeans.

Through the lightning flashes, he watched her edge cautiously inside the door. She peered around, as if searching for something.

“The gun is over there.” He nodded to the weapon swaddled by the dark shadows, where he’d dropped it when he’d run after her.

“Don’t you need it any more?”

“No. Take it. It’s all yours.”

She darted a curious glance his way as if not really believing her immense luck. She reminded him of a child sneaking toward a cookie jar and he was the bad guy playing a horrible trick on her, changing his mind at any second and snatching the treasure from her hands. But she wasn’t a child. Far from it. She was a woman. And in all the right places.

He tried to focus on her almost too-slim woolen-clad legs as she eased gracefully toward the gun. When she bent over to pick up the ugly weapon with her beautiful slender fingers, he was treated to a glimpse of her full, shapely hips and wonderfully rounded ass. God, he wouldn’t mind driving his cock deep into her wet and warm pussy from behind. Plunging and thrusting into her, hearing her gasps of pleasure as he fucked her all night long.

Leaning wearily against the chair he was quite happy to see the satisfied smirk flash over her beautiful lips as if she was the cat and he, the helpless mouse. Then his stomach sunk a little as she raised the gun in her trembling hands and pointed it at his face.

The gun was empty. But she didn’t know. The thought that she’d pull the trigger on him left him feeling quite disappointed. What else had he expected? That she’d embrace him for saving her life, even after everything he’d put her through?

He felt lightheaded, wiped out. All his remaining strength having been used saving her life. His eyelids felt as if heavy weights were pulling them down and he closed his eyes.

His head lolled back onto his shoulders.

He’d run out of time. And he didn’t care anymore.

She was talking. He tried to concentrate on her words. Truly he did. But she sounded so far away.

Her sweet peppermint scent wrapped erotically around his fevered body, teasing him, coaxing him to move. To reach out and kiss her, but he was totally wiped.

Cool feminine fingers traveled across his hot forehead.

“C’mon, wake up. Open your eyes, damn you. Don’t go doing something stupid like dying on me.”

He lifted his heavy eyelids and her beautiful face hovered like a ghost amidst the black fog. A burrowed frown zipped onto her concerned face.

She was actually worried about him? A warm fuzzy kind of feeling he really liked floated around him.

“Where’s your car? Is it nearby?”

“No car. Walked in,” he managed to groan.

“What? How?”

“Legs.”

She stood over him and studied him as if he were seriously deranged. He was beginning to think maybe he just might be. Why else would he have cops chasing him, an empty gun in his possession and a beautiful woman staring at him as if he was nuts?

“Okay. First thing we have to do is get you to bed.”

“Only if you join me and keep me nice and warm.”

He grimaced as a flame erupted before his eyes. For a split second, he thought he’d been mistaken about his gun being empty. Thought she’d shot him in answer to his remark. Until the disgusting smell of sulfur hit his nostrils. She’d only lit a match.

“I’m sure your sense of humor will keep you toasty enough.”

Ouch, he tried to say. But the word just didn’t quite pass through his lips.

The yellow flame danced away from his eyes at a dizzying speed, joining another one farther away. A candle.

He closed his eyes as his stomach heaved. He’d just about drifted off when he felt her tugging at him.

“C’mon, wake up. Put your arms around my neck.”

Wow. Any other time he’d be having a field day with that suggestion. But he was too darned tired. So he did as she asked.

—

Sara felt the curve of his hot fingers curl over her shoulders. His strong masculine scent grabbed her every breath and spread a slow burn throughout her again.

Leaning heavily on her, she realized how weak and wobbly he really was as they staggered down the cold hallway. There would be no way she could get him to an upstairs bedroom and the living room pull-out sofa was definitely out of question due to the cold air blowing through the nearby smashed kitchen window. Best bet was her bedroom at the back of the house with the cozy fireplace.

By the time they’d reached her room he was a mass of shivers and practically putty in her hands.

Steadying the stranger with one hand, she placed the short-stemmed candle on the nightstand beside the bed and hurriedly whipped away the soft feather comforters.

A moment later, she guided him onto the bed. His head immediately buried deep into the softness of her pillows and his eyes scrunched up tightly as if he was in pain.

Within minutes she had two oil lamps casting a warm buttery glow over the hand-carved pine bed harboring her fugitive and a rosy fire crackled happily in the bedroom fireplace.

“Mister, you are definitely not a stray tomcat. What in the world am I going to do with you?” she said as she stared down at the sleeping man.

Gently, she grasped his large hand into hers and grimaced at the unexpected mass of tiny wooden slivers protruding from the puffy holes in his callused fingers and palms.

He’d saved her life with these mangled hands? What had happened to him? Where had he gotten the slivers? The bruises on his face? And what was with the handcuffs?