Provoked Page 2

  Before she could give Butch a hint, the mammoth grabbed both guys by the necks and tossed them out the door.

  Grinning, Amber finished busing her tables. Handing Butch his share of tips, made much larger than usual by Kane’s fifty, she dodged into the back room and grabbed her coat. Tugging her calculator from the pocket, she double-checked her math to make sure she’d been fair with Butch. Yep. It was after two in the morning, and her yawn cracked her jaw. The other two waitresses had already headed home; one with a sleek-looking cowboy, the other to pick up her kid at the sitter’s.

  “Wait a sec, and I’ll walk you out.” Butch threw a towel into the sink and squinted past the small windows to the snowy world outside. The phone rang and he grabbed it, his wide face splitting in a smile.

  Amber laughed. “Say hi to Sandy for me.” No way was she waiting until Butch got off the phone with his sweetheart, who was attending a real estate conference in Wyoming.

  Tugging on threadbare gloves, she slid outside into snow and beauty. Soft, the moon glinted across sparkles of now-peaceful snow, more than a match for the myriad of stars now revealed since the storm had passed. But thick clouds were quietly moving in again.

  Drawing her coat closer around her shoulders, she glanced around the quiet parking lot, ready to run back inside the safe bar in case the drunks hadn’t left.

  The door opened and nearly smacked into her back. Butch stomped outside. “I said I’d walk you to the car.” He held out his arm like a prince at a ball.

  Amber grinned, sliding her hand along his elbow. “I figured you’d be a while.”

  He shrugged, the cold not seeming to bother him even in the thin T-shirt. “I’ll call Sandy later tonight.”

  Ice and snow slowed their progress toward Amber’s ancient Volkswagen Bug, but they finally crossed the parking lot. The metal had faded to a barely-there green, but the car ran. Amber stomped snow off her feet, glancing at the blue tinge marring the powder. “You said you’d switch de-icers to an environmentally safe type. This stuff will poison any animal that tries to eat the snow.”

  “I will. As soon as I use up the old stuff.” Butch scraped ice from the windows with a credit card.

  “Fine.” The old stuff was going to magically disappear the next night Amber worked.

  Butch shook snow off his hands. “How’s your granny, anyway?”

  Amber slid inside the car and turned the engine over, leaving the door open. The Bug sputtered to life. “She’s better. I mean, I think she’s better. Her color is good.” Grandma Hilde had been kicked in the head by one of their horses the previous week and remained unconscious in the small county hospital. The fact that the horse was one that never riled up was yet another mystery to solve. “I’ll give her a kiss for you when I visit tomorrow.”

  “She’ll be okay. That woman is a tough old bird.” Butch slammed the door shut.

  Amber nodded. Grandma Hilde had to be okay. After waving at Butch, she meandered down the quiet street.

  As Colorado towns went, Natureville was pretty sweet. Quiet, peaceful, and with roads easy to maneuver.

  She’d driven about three miles outside of town when her engine clunked. Once and then twice. The vehicle lurched and rolled to a stop. What the heck? Pumping the gas, she twisted the key in the ignition. Nothing. Not even a sputter.

  A deep breath centered her. Okay. She could handle this. Maybe she should take an automotive class when she signed up for community college. It’d been six years since she’d earned her GED, and it was definitely time to get an education.

  Snow covered the pine trees on either side of the road. No nearby homes offered a way to call for a ride.

  Quiet slammed all around her.

  The bar was about five miles behind her, and home was even farther the other direction. Hadn’t she read that staying with the vehicle was the best move? But the temperature was falling rapidly. Her feet were already dead tired. The thought of walking home in the thick snow made them hurt more. Things were just not going her way.

  Lights in the rearview mirror blinded her until she looked away. High lights, bright, obviously part of a truck. That truck rumbled to a stop behind her. Her breath speeding up, she tried to squint in the side mirror.

  Nobody got out.

  Every scary movie she’d ever seen flashed through her head. Slowly, she reached over and locked the door.

  Her heart picked up its pace, and her harsh breathing was the only sound in the world besides the ominous growl of the truck. Puffs of clouds came from her mouth. Panic froze her in place as the windows began to fog.

  Clouds wandered above and partially covered the moon. Oh God.

  Butch drove a Suburban and lived above the bar. She didn’t know anyone who had a truck lifted at least two feet like the one behind her. Why the heck wasn’t the driver getting out?

  Scrambling for her purse, she grabbed a ballpoint pen. Yeah, that’d help. A slightly hysterical giggle rippled from her chest.

  Both doors opened on the truck, and two men jumped to the ground, snow billowing up. The drunks from the bar.

  Amber licked her lips. Okay. That might be okay. Or a complete disaster. Either way, she clutched the pen so hard her fingers ached. As a teenager, hadn’t she snuck to watch a movie where the heroine jammed a pen in the bad guy’s neck? She turned her head to watch the guy on her side of the car stumble along until he finally knocked on her window.

  A slightly blurry face bent down. “Hey, baby. Your car lasted longer than we thought it would.”

  Heat filled her head until her ears rang. Although his voice was muffled, the quiet night allowed the words to penetrate past the filmy glass. She lowered her voice into an authoritative tone. Hopefully. “I have a gun and have no problem shooting you between the eyes, jackass. Get lost.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, the sound obnoxious in the peaceful woods. “You’re one of them eco-nuts from the farm. No fucking way you got a gun.”

  No, but she had a pen. “What do you want?” The question held risk, or rather the answer did. But sometimes a girl had to know in order to make a plan.

  A smack to the passenger window had her jumping and biting back a shriek. The second guy leaned down and pressed his mouth against the window. “I’m Chuck.” Full, sloppy lips left a round mark.

  Didn’t the dumbass know not to kiss anything icy? Hopefully he’d stick.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she wiped her window clear. “Well?”

  The guy outside her window smiled. “We’re, ah, here to talk you into selling to Hanson. You crazies don’t need that much land, now, do you?”

  Relief, raw and hard, ripped through her so quickly her knees weakened. “The land?” Thank goodness. They wanted the land. Something a woman alone could be happy about. “Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to the others.”

  He smiled, menace tipping his lips. “Well, now, we’re supposed to convince you. Come out of the car, pretty lady.”

  Fear rushed back.

  A shadow caught her attention. One second the moonlit road was clear . . . the next a man wearing all black stood with long overcoat flapping in the wind.

  He came out of nowhere. No vehicle, no hint, just a tall figure in black like something out of a movie.

  The clouds parted and the moon slid down to highlight him. Hard, primitive, predatory, fierce eyes lighter than possible stared out of a chiseled face.

  Amber slowly sat back as far as possible in her seat. “Kane.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Amber bit her lip, her gaze on the figure dead-center in the quiet road. His name fell easily from her cold lips. Instinct whispered the two guys flanking her car were silly jokes compared to the motionless man taking in the situation. The clouds groped the moon, plunging half his face into darkness.

  Her shoulders shuddered from something other than the cold.

  “What did you do to the vehicle?” Low, male, Kane’s voice carried through the night and past her windows.

  The jerk
on her side of the car took several lurching steps toward Kane. “None of your fucking business.” Fumbling in his jacket pocket, he yanked out a gun.

  Amber gasped and reached for her window. Quick motions had the glass partially rolled down. “Wait a second, here. I know Hanson wouldn’t want you to kill anybody.” Okay, probably not true. Hanson had plenty of blood on his hands. “Let’s all pretend this never happened and go on our ways.”

  Kane settled his stance. “Drop the gun or you’re really going to piss me off.”

  What a terrible idea. That was no way to negotiate with a drunk on a mission. Should she get out of the car and try to defuse the situation? Seemed like a bad move, but staying inside wasn’t a great idea, either. The Bug was dead, and at some point, she needed to get out. Or at some point, one of the menaces around her would break a window. While she didn’t trust Kane, him getting shot and leaving her with the two brutes held little appeal.

  With a quick prayer, she unlocked the door and stepped outside.

  “Get back in the vehicle.” Kane kept his gaze on the man in front of her.

  Yeah, probably a good idea. Keeping the door open and her body protected by metal, she bunched her knees in case she needed to jump back inside. “We all need to stop this, right now. This has gone too far.” Though Hanson’s men had intended to take it further. Fear and cold set her teeth chattering.

  “I’ll ask you again—what did you do to the Volkswagen?” Kane’s hands remained relaxed at his sides, his voice calm, his tone slightly irritated.

  Chuck leaned against the front bumper of the car, the metal protesting his massive bulk with a loud crunch. “Shoot him, Alex.”

  Kane sighed, the sound carrying on the soft wind. He dodged to the side and cut in, grabbing Alex by the neck and slamming his head into the Volkswagen. A sickening thud filled the night, and Alex slid to the ground.

  Amber gasped, her gaze on the streak of red now smeared across the faded metal hood.

  She swallowed, her entire body going stone-cold. Gravity dropped her to the seat. As her butt hit the torn leather, her brain fired awake. Panicking, she grabbed the door handle and yanked it shut, slamming her fingers on the lock button. What was she going to do?

  Wide-eyed, she stared out the front window. The clouds deserted the moon again, allowing streaming light to illuminate the entire area.

  Kane scratched his head, his gaze on her, one eyebrow lifted. With a shrug, he turned toward Chuck. “Before I knock you out, would you mind telling me what you did to the car?”

  Chuck stepped away from the Volkswagen, his red flannel coat bright in the moonlight. “Why?”

  “I need to know if I can fix it, or if I need to borrow your truck.” Relaxed, calm, Kane’s posture nevertheless hinted at a hard edge.

  “You’re not takin’ my truck.” Loud and slurred, Chuck’s voice carried on the wind. Visibly gathering his courage, he shot forward, his head down. Three long seconds later, he smashed into Kane’s gut in what should’ve been a powerful tackle.

  Kane didn’t move.

  Chuck dropped back on his butt, and snow sprayed over the hood. The clunk of his head against the Bug’s grill vibrated the entire car.

  Kane frowned, rubbing his chin and eying both downed men. His gaze lifted to her as he stalked toward the grill.

  She swallowed and pressed back into the torn leather. What were his abs made of? Steel? He had to be wearing a bulletproof vest to have knocked Chuck out so easily. Reaching out, she twisted the key several times. Please, God, let the ignition start. Nothing happened.

  Kane reached the grill. “Pop the hood, Beag Gaiscioch.”

  Little Warrior? Amber lifted her chin—boy, did he have her pegged wrong. Poor, crazy, tough guy. She rolled her window down an inch so he could hear her. “Listen, ah, thanks for the rescue, but I’m no warrior, and you need to leave me alone.” Rationalizing with the crazy man probably wasn’t going to work.

  “So you do admit to your heritage.” He gestured toward the hood. “You speak Gaelic.”

  “My grandmother is Irish, and she insisted I learn.” Amber reached for the lever. No reason not to let him take a look. “You need help, and I have some ideas.”

  “Good.” The hood popped open, and he leaned down. “The demons are coming, and we need to get you secured.” His voice rolled underneath the hood and straight to her chest. Sexy and low.

  Why in the world were all the sexy guys nuts? “I know a good shrink in town. He can help you.”

  “Stop playing games with me, Amber. My patience has ended.” Kane sighed loudly. “They pulled the oil plug and drained all the oil. Your motor overheated. Damno is totus ut abyssus.”

  “Overeducated rich guy,” she muttered. How many languages did Kane know, anyway? “That wasn’t Gaelic.”

  “No. Latin.” He slammed the hood closed. “Get out of the car, darlin’.”

  How had he heard her? She’d barely whispered. “What did you just say in Latin?”

  “Damn it all to hell.” He stalked around the car to place a hand on her door. “I didn’t want to swear in front of you. Now get out.”

  Great. The lunatic had a sweet side. Didn’t they all? “No.”

  “Yes.” He leaned down, dark face blurred beyond the icing glass. “You’ll freeze to death in there. Please get out.”

  “If I don’t?” A smart woman always examined all options.

  “I’ll break the glass, probably on the other side so you don’t get cut, and then I’ll lift you out.” Reasonable, he sounded like he was discussing the weather.

  “That’s assault and kidnapping.”

  “Actually, it’s battery and kidnapping.” He pulled up on the lever, which didn’t give. “Though I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  “Until you get me to your spaceship and start probing me.” Why hadn’t she gone to college and taken an auto-repair class just for basic knowledge? She didn’t even know if he was telling the truth about the car, and looking inside the hood wouldn’t help her. She reached for her purse with her left hand, keeping her right wrapped around the pen. Her only weapon.

  He frowned, his puzzlement clear even through the fog. “Why are you playing games? I don’t have time for games.”

  “Please leave me alone.” Cold permeated the silent car, and she began to shiver. “Why are you wearing body armor?” Cops called bulletproof vests “body armor,” right? No way was the dark-eyed warrior a police officer.

  “I’m not. Get out of the car.” He stood, taking that handsome face out of sight.

  “Are, too. Chuck hit your stomach and was instantly knocked out.”

  “This would be so much easier if you trusted me.” Kane released the door handle and yanked open his silk shirt.

  Abs. Powerful, well-defined, and sexy-as-hell abdominal muscles filled her window. The guy had a decent tan as well. “See? No armor.”

  She tried to swallow and choked instead. Wow. Those things were more of a weapon than a defense. “Ah, yes, I see.” Maybe Chuck had been really, really drunk. Yeah, that was it. How in the world was she going to get away from Kane if Chuck couldn’t take him down? Reason and kindness. She had a brain and could be quite persuasive when necessary. “I’m not defenseless.”

  “I’m aware of your power. That’s why I’m here.” Graceful movements propelled Kane around the vehicle. “Cover your face.”

  She yelped, scrambling to unlock the door and jump outside to glare over the Volkswagen. “Do not break my window.”

  “Of course.” Rebuttoning his shirt, he strode around the hood and grabbed her arm. “We’ll take the truck.”

  He smelled like warm cedar and maleness. They’d made it halfway to the vehicle when realization dawned. She tried to dig her feet into the snow and halt his progress. “Wait a minute. You can’t leave those guys lying in the snow.”

  “Why not?” Kane continued on, tugging her along as if she were a wayward toddler.

  “They’ll freeze to death.”
>
  “So?” He reached the truck and yanked open the door, both hands wrapping around her waist to lift her two feet into the cab. Like she weighed absolutely nothing.

  A flutter that had nothing to do with the winter chill wandered through her. “You’re strong.”

  He shrugged. “Strong enough. Scoot over.”

  Panic swooshed out her breath. “No. We can’t leave them to die.”

  Exasperation rode his strong sigh. “Why the hell not?”

  So much for not swearing around her. “It’s murder.”

  He glanced back at the quiet scene. “Not really.” Examining Alex still lying on the ground, Kane cocked his head. “I’d say it’s more self-defense, and well, death by being a moron.” He glanced up at her, and his lips tightened. “I don’t think their plans for you were very honorable.”

  “Maybe not.” Dread and relief at her escape from the two henchmen commingled through her. “But we’re not leaving them here to die.” Swinging toward Kane, she angled her legs to kick him in the chest. “Either help them, or I will.”

  More Latin spilled from him as he pivoted and stomped toward Alex, effortlessly lifting the unconscious man and carrying him to the truck. Shoving the front seat out of the way, he tossed Alex in the back. Seconds later Chuck landed on top of Alex. Kane pushed the seat back and jumped inside to slam the door, muttering as he put the truck in DRIVE.

  Kane’s strength was unreal. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

  Amber scooted to the far door. “You swearing in Latin some more?”

  “Yes.” He backed the truck down the empty road until reaching a turnaround. “I have a niece I try not to swear around. Latin used to work. Well, until she learned Latin.” He frowned.

  “How old is your niece?”

  “Twenty.” He rubbed his chin, the frown deepening. “Suddenly she’s all grown up. Well, kind of. Twenty is still young. Too young.”

  “Too young for what?”

  “To save the world.”

  So many thoughts zinged through Amber’s head, she pressed her free palm to her eye. “Does your niece know that fact?”