Hot and Bothered (Some Like It Hot 3)

He lengthened his stride to keep up. She’d piqued not only his concern but his PI instincts, and he glanced back, too, and saw a man about ten yards away, wearing a sweatshirt, jeans, and a baseball cap. The lighting in the area was adequate, but the bill of the cap cast a shadow over half his face. The hairs on the back of Noah’s neck prickled with awareness, and every investigative intuition he possessed came to full alert.

By the time they reached the other side of the street, she was nearly jogging, trying to escape a danger he didn’t understand. His only thought was to grab her to keep her close and make sure she felt safe with him. Whatever had set her off, there was no way he’d let anything or anyone harm her.

Latching onto her upper arm, he forced her to stop. The street lamp overhead illuminated the sheer panic etched on her face, and he felt her tremble in fear. His gut tightened in unease. “Natalie, what’s wrong?”

Her gaze shifted over his shoulder to whoever was approaching them, and her complexion paled. “Oh, God, No!” she said on a helpless moan and tried to tug her arm free from his grasp so she could bolt.

He refused to release her, knowing in her near-hysterical state she wasn’t thinking straight and could hurt herself. He wanted to shake her out of her stupor but didn’t want to scare her even more. He decided on verbal force. “Dammit, Natalie, talk to me!” he growled in a low tone.

“It’s him,” she said on a soft, keening cry, her eyes wide and filled with alarm.

She wasn’t making any coherent sense, nor was she giving him any information he could act upon. “It’s who?”

She shook her head frantically, and gripping his shirt in her hands, she pulled him into a small alcove built into the back doorway of a shop.

Stunned and confused by her abrupt action, he braced his hands on the door behind her to catch himself before his body slammed into hers. “What the hell’s going on?” He turned his head to get a better look at the person who’d sent her into such a tailspin, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and fisted her fingers tight in his hair, which kept him in place.

Her eyes pleaded with him to help her, to do as she requested. “Just kiss me,” she demanded in a hoarse voice.

Before he could say another word, she crushed her soft lips to his.

CHAPTER THREE

For as many times as Noah had fantasized about this moment with Natalie, he’d never once imagined he’d be kissing her during a crisis. Neither had he expected her to be the aggressor. No, he’d always envisioned their first kiss as a slow, sensual, erotic exploration. Him coaxing her passion to the surface at a leisurely pace, and her gradually surrendering.

This reckless embrace went beyond a sweet, lingering kiss and went straight for fast, deep, and blistering hot, as well as wild and consuming. She clung to him as if she wanted to crawl into his skin and be a part of him, plastering her soft, lush curves along the length of his body in a way his long-denied cock couldn’t ignore. The fingers she’d thrust through his hair flexed for a better hold and she angled his mouth for greater pressure, sealing their lips so tightly he was certain he’d bruise her.

She didn’t seem to care. Desperation poured off her in waves as their tongues mated in a wild, illicit dance of seduction, despite the danger he sensed around them. He tasted her panic, felt her fear, even as she kissed him with an erotic intensity that left him reeling. And every time he tried to pull away she grew more frantic, which in turn increased the depth and heat and friction of their mouths and bodies.

He didn’t like having his back exposed to whatever element had frightened her, but he’d never in his life been held with such force and need by a woman—a woman intent on either using him as a diversionary tactic, or a shield to protect her from harm. He swore he’d keep her safe even as he fought the drugging pleasure of having her so willing and eager in his arms.

Christ. Her feverish kiss and their intimate embrace sent conflicting signals through his brain and body. His muscles were tensed and braced for action, yet he was hard and aching where his erection pressed against her belly. He groaned low in his throat as desire mingled with arousal, and he struggled with wanting this, wanting her, but knowing the circumstances were all wrong.

It seemed an eternity had passed, though in reality only a few seconds had ticked by, when Noah finally gained the upper hand and pried her lips from his, then pulled her arms from his neck. She whimpered at the loss of contact, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. She was breathing hard, and tears of despair shone in her bright, wide eyes as she looked up at him.

He pressed two fingers to her still-damp lips to keep her quiet until he got a better feel for their situation. “I won’t let anything hurt you,” he promised in a low, gravelly voice.

Keeping her covered with his body, he leaned back and peered around the alcove to see if there was anyone waiting for them. He saw a few pedestrians strolling along the sidewalk, but not the guy in the baseball cap who had seemingly set her off.

He returned his attention to Natalie, needing to know what she’d seen and what had threatened her so badly. But first he had to calm her, and he tried to do so by rubbing his hands along her arms. “Nobody’s there, Natalie. You’re safe with me.”

“I’ll never be safe.” Her voice caught on a hysterical sob as she shook her head wildly. “He won’t go away!”

She pushed at his chest, shoving him away, and the unexpected assault took him off guard and he stumbled back a step. This time she eluded his grasp, and before he could intercept her she was dashing back across the street toward Murphy’s. The signal at the corner was red, and he yelled at her to stop. She didn’t listen, just kept running to escape.

From what, he still didn’t know.

He started after her, cursing at his inability to control the bizarre situation and her rash actions. Before he could reach the street, an oncoming car slammed on its brakes to avoid hitting her. But the driver was going too fast, and Natalie wasn’t paying attention.

He watched in horror, shouting a hoarse warning as the vehicle skidded long and hard, striking Natalie just before the car came to a jarring stop. The impact sent her flying, and she landed on her side a few feet away, her dark hair tousled around her head, her arms at an awkward angle, and her body completely lifeless.

Stunned, Noah raced furiously toward her, yelling at the people pouring out of nearby shops and eateries to dial 911 and get an ambulance there immediately. He dropped to the ground beside her, mindless of the sharp pain that shot through his knees. Mindless of anything except the churning in his gut and the metallic taste of fear in his mouth. H

e pressed two fingers to the pulse point at her neck and exhaled a sigh of relief when he felt a thready but noticeable beat. She was alive, and that’s all he cared about.

A crowd gathered around him, and the driver made his way to Noah’s side, babbling about not seeing her in the street until it was too late. Ignoring him, Noah gently eased Natalie to her back and began a check for injuries, running his hands from her shoulders, down her arms, and along her thighs and legs. Opening her jacket, he skimmed his fingers over her collarbone, ribs, and hips, and found nothing obviously broken.

Her jacket had protected her from getting any scrapes along her arms, but she had a nasty cut on her cheek oozing blood that hopefully wouldn’t leave a scar. Her face was drained of color, her lips were white and cool to the touch, and she looked so fucking vulnerable.