Your Mouth Drives Me Crazy. HelenKay Dimon
surface injuries and her bedraggled condition, he saw a hint of cheekbones, a slim refined nose and a full mouth.
If he didn’t do something soon, she could be a fine-looking corpse.
“Talk to me,” he said, as if ordering her awake might work. People told him his yell could raise the dead. He could now state with some authority that theory appeared to be wrong.
With hands planted on the damp sand on either side of her head, he leaned down. His ear hovered above her mouth so he could hear over the crashing surf. Steady small puffs of air brushed against his skin, calming his anxiety.
The coolness of her skin still scared him. He knew from training and experience that too long in the water and hypothermia kicked in. Tropical climate or not, a body could take only so much abuse from the elements.
“Ma’am?”
Her eyes stayed closed. Her body still. She needed a shower and dry clothes. Even then…
He tunneled one arm under her legs and the other around her shoulder. In one fluid move, he pushed to his feet with the injured stranger clutched to his chest. He looked up and down the beach. No one lingered except him.
Quick strides turned to a jog. He had to get to the front door of his bungalow. Two hundred feet, then he could warm her up, dry her off and get whatever help she needed. There was no time to waste.
He now had something to fill those long hours. He just hoped he wouldn’t be spending the time checking her into the morgue.
Annie Parks refused to open her eyes. Open eyes meant facing reality. She wasn’t ready for that yet.
She’d been in the ice cold waves only a few minutes. At least she thought that was the case. Time blended and distorted. Sluggish muscles and misfiring brain cells made thinking and moving almost impossible.
Nothing about the last few hours made any sense. She remembered standing in the small bathroom of her stateroom, looking over her crude drawing of the yacht’s floor plan. She fiddled with her camera, unconsciously adjusting the settings to account for fading light. The steady beat of jazz music sounded from the main living area and adjoining dining room. With everyone enjoying a pre-dinner drink, she had the privacy she needed to study the layout of the rooms and decide where the owner would keep valuable paperwork.
She had slipped out of her stained dress. The spill of red wine had given her a reasonable excuse to leave the party. The fact she had to ruin the one fancy dress she owned ticked her off, but what was one more sacrifice to the cause. She’d sacrificed so much already.
One minute she was reaching for the black outfit she’d set aside for her snooping. The next, someone held a bag over her head, hands went around her waist and…splash. Then a mouthful of water followed by a hard skid to a beach landing and pain. She couldn’t forget the pain.
Now someone held her. Sure, the guy didn’t throw her back in the water, but that didn’t necessarily mean things were looking up. Her back teeth slammed together with each one of his firm steps. The brisk walk cuddled against his chest had warmed her, but at this pace she’d be broken into little pieces before they got to their destination. Wherever that was.
The naked early evening jog with a perfect stranger was new, not to mention embarrassing. Plenty of fear ran through her, too. She thought about jumping out of this guy’s arms and running as fast as she could in any direction but the water.
Thought about it. Even plotted out the escape. But, she knew the smarter move was to bide her time and figure out her next step. She’d spent her entire life biding time. Waiting for the right moment to get her revenge.
Panic and weakness were the enemies. Two of them, anyway. During the past few hours she’d discovered a new one of the human variety. She’d been knocked around, dropped into the ocean and nearly drowned due to her mediocre swimming skills. All that made washing up on the beach the highlight of her evening.
Not the normal day for a nature photographer. Of course, this wasn’t a paid assignment. This one was a personal project. An investigation gone seriously wrong. Somehow she’d managed to stumble onto the right track. Got close enough to get tossed into the ocean. She’d lost her camera and nearly her life.
And now…well, she did not know what was happening. She lifted one eyelid in the barest move possible. She spied miles of muscular forearm. Tan and, she hoped, connected to the safe and friendly variety of male on the other end.
Before she could squawk, her rescuer balanced her body on his hip, reached for a doorknob and opened the door. She silently added strong to the list of her rescuer’s attributes.
Looking through the slit under her eyelashes, she tried to scan her new surroundings. They stood in the center of a small room with a red sectional sofa as the centerpiece. Not what she imagined the home of a typical serial killer would look like. That was her first good news of the last forty-eight hours. The only good news.
He started to move. With each step, she saw a flash of his bare feet against the oak hardwood floor below her. She poised for fight or flight. Tried to concentrate on getting the hell out of there—even though she still didn’t know where “there” was.
He threw her in the shower before she could make her big escape.
Chapter 2
The world spun beneath Annie until her feet landed on the cold tile floor of the shower stall. Strong arms banded around her waist, holding her in place.
Every cell in her body snapped to life. The lethargy weighing her down disappeared with the screech of the shower curtain rings against the rod. A rush of water echoed in her ears as steam filled the room.
“Here we go,” the stranger said to the room as if the nut chatted with unconscious people all the time.
He balanced her body against his. Rough denim scratched against her sensitive skin from the front. Lukewarm water splashed over her bare body from the back, making her skin tingle and burn.
A gasp caught in her throat as her shoulders stiffened under the spray. A scream rumbled right behind the gasp, but she managed to swallow that, too.
“This should help.” He continued his one-sided conversation in a deep, hypnotizing voice.
He seemed mighty pleased with himself. And since he had stepped right under the water with her, a bit ballsy for her taste.
“This will feel better in a second,” he said to the quiet room.
He wasn’t wrong.
Firm hands caressed her skull, replacing the frigid ocean with bathwater. He rinsed and massaged and rinsed again. The sweep of his hands wiped away the last of her confusion. With that task done, his palms turned to her arms, brushing up and down, igniting every nerve ending in their path.
His chest rubbed against her bare breasts until heat replaced her chill. With thighs smashed against his legs, the full-body rubdown sparked life into body parts that had been on a deep-freeze hold for more than a year.
“Better?”
She didn’t answer him. Wasn’t even sure she could speak if she wanted to.
“Open your eyes and say something.”
The husky command broke her out of her mental wanderings and sent a shot of anxiety skating down her spine. This was the part of the program where she ran and hid…and then ran some more.
Naked. Alone. Strange man. Yeah, a very bad combination.
“I know you’re awake.” He sounded pretty damn amused by the idea.
The jig was up. Okay, fine, she got his point.
Not knowing if her rescuer counted as a friend or foe, she played the scene with the utmost care. Only a complete madman would attack a vulnerable woman who didn’t know her own name. If her stranger fell into that category, she’d scream and make a mad dash into the kitchen