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.