The Bounty Hunters: The Marino Bros.: Box Set (45 page)

She checked his neck, leaning over him to see the other side. She was reluctant to move him just yet until she knew he had no neck or back juries. His neck looked unscathed, and all that was left was his head. She placed her hands gently on either side of his face and used her fingers to explore his scalp running her fingers through his very thick, dark hair. She couldn’t help but study his features as she did so. He had some minor scratches on his face, but that couldn’t disguise the beauty of this man. He was absolutely gorgeous. Her fingers then found a lump the size of a goose egg just behind his left temple. The culprit had been discovered. This was why the man lay unconscious below her.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she murmured sympathetically still trying to figure out how he got knocked on the head.

She was shocked beyond measure when he responded.

“You . . . are beautiful.”

She looked from the lump she was examining to the face of the man she had just been admiring not three seconds ago, and his eyes were open, blue like ice. She was mesmerized.

She was drawn into them. And instead of being scared like she should have been, her response was a simple, “Thank-you.”

A Helping Hand

W
ith his help,
Bella was able to get the man to the backseat of his car. She pulled the front seat all the way up to make room for his very long legs. Their first priority was to get him off the road, but he was in no condition to drive.

He told her the car had overheated and was disabled. He was looking green around the gills when he spoke. He also managed to tell her his cell phone wasn’t working. He was not getting service. Bella looked him over while he spoke, and the man still looked unwell. She also noticed he had a New York accent as he slurred his words. She needed to get him to the doctor. He most assuredly had a concussion. It was too far to walk him back down the mountain, and definitely too far to walk up, so she had no choice but to take a look at what was under the hood.

She thanked her lucky stars she had chosen auto as her elective in high school. Her mom supporting her alone had often complained about getting ripped off by mechanics, so instead of choosing home economics, or choir for her electives, she had taken auto, and had taken quite a liking to it. Her mom had been so proud of her when she changed the oil on her mom’s car for the first time.

“Do you mind if I have a look?”

He nodded grimly, while he tenderly felt his own scalp and wondered when the spinning would stop. “Be careful . . . with the hood.” He tapped his head, or tried to.

Ah! She thought nodding. That explained the head injury.

She raised the hood, and put up the mechanism to hold it up and locked it firmly into place. She wanted no more injuries tonight and no more surprises. When she peered inside she noticed right away the radiator head was cracked. He obviously, this man, had not checked the cars fluids before driving in these mountain roads. She could add some water, and probably get it going for a few miles, but then what? If she was close to a store or had a way of getting there she could spray it with an epoxy or sealant and get it to a garage for repair, but that wouldn’t be happening either. She couldn’t leave him. This man still did not look well, and probably needed medical attention beyond what she could provide. The hospital was eight miles away. Cherokee was about two. Her home was less than one. She was about to ask him what he wanted to do, but he was snoring away on the backseat legs hanging out of the open door. Shoot, she was really in a bind.

What if the car failed to operate for even a mile? They would be in the same predicament, so she made the only logical choice. It had to be her place. At least there they would have shelter, water, and what few medicines she had. She could nurse him overnight and then go for help in the morning. Surely Clara’s husband would come on up, and bring him to the hospital. Clara and her husband had been nothing but good to her since she had helped to get Graham home after he hurt his back. In fact they had returned her kindness numerous times, today included. She found them kind and helpful, even to strangers. Just look how they had helped her.

Her place would have to do. She made her choice as this stranger was in no condition to choose. Her place was closer and offered them the best chance of at least having shelter for the night and not having to sleep in the car, and the thought of abandoning him now just didn’t even occur to her.

If the car would work, it wouldn’t work long. So she had to do this fast. She grabbed her items off the side of the road where she had dumped them into heap. She threw them into the car across the driver’s side except for her bottle of water which she removed from her knapsack. It was three-quarters full. It would have to do.

She needed the keys to the car. She scanned the front seat, checking this option, nothing. She looked in the back seat. His pants!

She approached him, and reached forward having to stretch across him to reach his pants pocket and accidentally brushed up against him. She felt her own body’s reaction to being in such a position with such a handsome man.

She disgusted herself. It had been nearly a year since she had broken up with Anthony. They had remained somewhat friends, but that year had also been frustratingly long and lonely. She wasn’t the party girl friends with benefits type. That just wasn’t her thing.

She had to force her mind to focus on the task at hand, the keys. She reached one hand and felt around in his pocket. It was deep. She had to search every corner, and through no fault of her own, she accidentally grazed his manhood. His body reacted to her touch. She felt it jump. And she looked up at his face barely able to breathe. But thankfully his eyes remained firmly shut although he wasn’t snoring any longer. She let out her held breath.

The other pocket, she had to remind herself. She put her hand against the seat in front to keep her balance, and then slipped her right hand into his right pocket. She felt his manhood this time and it was much more pronounced as her fingers grazed his shaft ever so lightly in her attempt to find the keys.

The man below her growled, and it startled her so much she lost her balance and plopped right on top of him.

“Just what . . . are you doing?” he managed to get out, his voice sounding strangled, which made him sound even sexier to her already over heated imagination.

She couldn’t help herself, but flushed in embarrassment to the roots of her hair.

“So sorry,” she muttered pushing off him. “I was trying to find your keys.”

*     *     *

Her tone sounded
quite remorseful and apologetic. His mind was still fuzzy, but so far what he had seen of Bella Chase, er Izzy, she was calling herself, well the pieces of the puzzle just didn’t fit. She was a bank robber, dated a kingpin’s son, and was a party girl.

This girl, with no makeup who smelled like wildflowers, and had soft curling mahogany hair was so different from the pictures he had seen, and the reports he’d read. And fuck if his body, even with the worst fucking headache of his life, didn’t react to her like he was seventeen years old again, and not his twenty eight years of age.

The girl was an enigma. And even though he knew this was a simple case of bring the girl in, he definitely wanted to figure her out. As she worked on the radiator, which she had stated she thought she could temporarily fix, his mind tried to recap what he knew.

Firstly, she had examined his body like a professional. He knew she had worked for a shrink, then later a few medical doctors, but still, the girl was skilled. She spoke kindly, politely, explaining what she was doing as she did it. She apparently knew about cars too. And she was astute. But then he had briefly passed out, and he found her grasping his cock on top of him. His body reacted like any man’s would, when a beautiful woman lay atop him, he told himself.

He just couldn’t believe it though. His reaction to her was instantaneous. Even when he was lying in the dirt and her soft graceful hands had explored his chest, and his head pounded like it had been hit with a wrecking ball, he had felt the stirring, and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

Obviously, he had a concussion. He needed a good night’s sleep, and then he’d bring the girl in, er, woman.

He was beginning to fade when the girl began to chatter. He focused in on her words.

“Mr. Um. I’m sorry I didn’t get your name. I’m Izzy by the way,” she reintroduced herself.

“My name is Blaze, Blaze Marino,” he offered. No sense lying to her. He’d be bringing her to justice in the morning. He just needed to have his wits and strength about him when he told her who he was.

How fitting, she thought wryly. He sure as heck was banking her fires. She wondered how a man got a name like that. She’d never heard it before.

“Okay, um, Blaze. Well we have two choices. I think this repair will get the car to go maybe a mile, two tops. We could rush going back down the mountain to town. A friend of mine, Clara, lives about two miles from here. Her husband could drive you to a hospital. Or, I could drive up the mountain to my place. It’s less than a mile. I’ll leave that up to you. It’s your call.”

It didn’t take him long to make up his mind, but he waited just a few moments to pretend to ponder over it. They could go get help, which he didn’t think he needed, or he could go to her place, recover, and she wouldn’t be able to have an opportunity to get away from him or out of his sight.

“I guess your place sounds okay. It’s closer, and I don’t want to risk being out all night stranded.” He pulled himself into the backseat of the car and nodded at her.

“That’s what I was thinking. Okay, hang on,” she called as she hopped into the front seat of his rental. She turned the ignition and hit the gas while releasing the emergency break. Luckily, the car lurched forward and she gunned it up the small incline. He knew she was giving it all it was worth, because a steeper climb was ahead, and she wanted to gain momentum before the radiator head fully cracked and the car overheated once more. She was flying, but as soon as they hit the increased grade the car began to slow and lose momentum.

“Come on, come on baby,” she urged the vehicle rocking in her seat. And for the life of him, Blaze couldn’t explain why, but those words and watching her had his cock stirring again. Yup, his fucking brains were fried.

“Almost there,” she continued as the car was at a crawl now, and began to sputter and choke. “Come on, baby, come on. Yes, yes, yes,” she yelled as she gave the wheel a sharp left turn and the car maneuvered onto the small trail he hadn’t noticed. It rolled for another two dozen yards, and then died.

“Not bad,” she stated smiling and turned to peer over at him in the backseat. “Think you can manage the rest.”

Blaze had to swallow hard, swallow hard past the dry throat, not knowing what to say and placed his hand over his very swollen and engorged, rock hard cock. No one, and he meant no one, had ever given him this kind of a boner with only words before. Yep, scrambled eggs for brains.
What the fuck was wrong with him?

Night Terrors

I
t was the
second time Blaze heard her cry out in the night. It sounded like soft whimpers and then soft crying that faded back into sleep. There were no words and Blaze assumed she was crying for her mother and her guilt. The sound disturbed him and not just because it kept waking him up. She sounded lost and alone and scared.

If she hadn’t been sleeping in the loft above him, he might’ve tried to wake her. But there was no way he was going to be able to climb up the ladder to the second-story above. So he just lie in the dark and quiet and listened to her pour out her heart.

He too was having difficulty sleeping.

Earlier that night, when they arrived at her cabin she quickly prepared him a pallet in the corner of the room and helped him onto it. She cleaned up his cuts and abrasions as if she were professional. She applied a soothing balm and medications she had just purchased that day, she told him, from a local shop owner who made herbal remedies. She said it was her friend Clara who made those products.

She purchased the White Oak salve because her back was bothering her from all the work she had been doing while cleaning up her home. She’d accidentally let him know she just recently moved in, inherited the property from a relative.

When he asked her why she lived so far away from everything she didn’t answer him right away. She gave him a strange look, but then finally responded. “I needed a fresh start,” and she left it at that. He was reluctant to ask her any more personal questions. He let her take the lead as she looked over his injuries once more.

Bella continued to apply the salve, glad she had purchased the largest container. His only response while she massaged the salve in was a soft groan when she applied the herbal remedy to a rather deep laceration on his chest. When she finished with his hands and chest she wanted to again examine the bump on his head. It appeared the swelling had gone down some since she checked it, but she was still concerned he might have a concussion. She applied the same salve to the area telling him Clara had said it would help with swelling as well, and she had a tea she could make for the headache.