She tasted sweet, like the plum cocktail she’d had at dinner. But there was something else. A hint of spice that was all her. When her tongue met mine, I stopped thinking and let the tingling, snapping heat fry my synapses. Her lips were soft and yielding. Then she whimpered, and all the blood went straight to my dick.
The hairs at the back of my neck stood at attention. And every instinct I had in me told me to take cover. Everything in me told me this was dangerous. That she was dangerous. And suddenly, we were knocked off our feet.
Literally.
I protected her with my body as we both toppled over.
Tackled.
I quickly cradled her head as I rolled over her, reaching for my ankle holster before I remembered I was out in public with a woman who didn’t know I carried a gun.
Pulling back, I assessed her quietly. “Look at me. Are you okay?”
Her eyes were wide, and she looked like she needed a moment to recover. “Son of a bitch. He just took my purse.”
And before I could stop her, she jumped up and took off sprinting after the mugger in the darkened park with her stilettos in hand.
Well, hell.
Chapter 2
Marcus
Fuck me. She was fast.
I’d never seen her running. Maybe she used the treadmill in the gym?
I never ran into her there. Nor had I noticed her coming back from a workout.
You need to cool it with the stalking. That shit is just creepy.
I wasn’t being a creep. I was just aware of movements in the building. It was part of my training. Maybe she had a treadmill in her flat, which was entirely possible.
When I finally caught up with them, she’d almost caught up with the assailant, and she wound her arm back and tossed her shoes at him. Her aim was strikingly accurate, and one of the stilettos spiked right into his upper thigh.
With a grimace, he pulled out the shoe then tried to run again. She stayed on him, but I stopped her with a hand on her arm and I went after the mugger instead. After a brief sprint through the tomato plots, I caught him easily, whipping him around and wrapping an arm around his neck and securing it with my other arm. Lyra was right beside me as I dragged off his mask.
My gaze roamed over his face. The lower half was familiar, but what I really noted was the tattoo on his wrist. Victus. An Eastern European gang with links to terrorism. What the fuck was he doing here in Los Angeles?
With one hand, I tried to keep her back, lest he grab for her, because then all bets were off. “Let me handle this.”
Oh sure, the video game designer knows how to interrogate someone?
Fucking hell. If I let him go, he might hurt her. I knew his gang well. They were vicious. Ruthless. Deadly.
She reached for her bag in his hand, ignoring my attempts to keep her out of reach, but he didn’t let it go. “You stole that from me, you dickwad.”
Dickwad? My lips twitched. Because I was more occupied with trying to get her out of the way so I could get her to safety, I missed the punch coming. It didn’t hurt, but it was surprising.
That was the problem with women. Distractions.
Then she squeaked at me. “Jesus, are you okay?”
I noticed one thing though; she was still holding onto her purse and trying to wrestle it away from him.
“Lyra, let him have it.”
“Like hell I will. This is an HD Accra original.”
Was she serious? “A what now?”
The would-be mugger was fighting her for it, but Lyra wasn’t letting go.
I tried to get between them, but she wasn’t having it. And then in the scuffle, Lyra finally managed to get her purse free, after she kneed the bloke in the groin.
He went down like a sack, clutching his mangled balls and groaning.
The sudden release of pressure on her bag also caused Lyra to stumble backward and go down. With a quick glance at her, I asked, “Are you okay?”
She was on all fours then, wincing. “I think I scraped my knee, but I’m fine.”
Turning my full attention back to the Victus idiot, I reached for him and hauled him up. “You’re going to die,” I whispered in his ear, low enough to convey the proper amount of menace and instill the right dosage of fear but not have her hear me.
I was aware that I only had one option, given the scenario. The police. In which case, this idiot would either die in lock up, or whoever had brought him here would bail him out before I could get to him.
But he knew there was another option. One where I’d been so worried about Lyra that I’d failed to pat him down to check for weapons. The deafening click of a safety being released made me freeze as he asked, “Are you sure about that?”
I swallowed hard as I released him and put my hands up. I backed up slowly, careful to put myself between the gun and Lyra. “What do you want?”
“Soon you’ll see.” Then he grabbed Lyra’s purse and ran, leaving the two of us to stare after him.
What I wanted to do was chase him. Find him. Kill him slowly. There were so many ways I could entertain killing him.
I didn’t know who he was, and I didn’t care. I’d find out why he’d come for me eventually. But I had to get Lyra to safety first.
Kneeling down next to her, I helped her to her feet. I could feel her shaking, so I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
She gave me a vigorous nod. “I know I shouldn’t have gone
