| Abruptly she realized she’d left the address for the Gunn Inn somewhere
back at her apartment in Colorado Springs. From her memories of the place, the
Gunn Inn nestled somewhere on the outskirts of town, hidden by tall trees and
hedgerows. At the same time, she couldn’t remember how to get there without
the map.
Great. What to do now?
Her stomach growled.
Okay. Food first, directions afterwards.
She noted a dusty neon sign that spelled in red letters, Poppa Joe’s
UFO Diner. The sign featured a caricature of the stereotype alien head with
large head, big black eyes, and almost nonexistent mouth.
“Quaint,” she said, and parked across the street on the right.
“Let’s see what Poppa Joe’s got to eat. Alien eyeballs, perhaps?”
Smiling, she grabbed her handbag and stepped out of the car. She waited for
traffic to clear then crossed the street to the diner. A welcome blast of warm
air hit her in the face as she opened the glass door. The place was almost obnoxiously
bright, making her squint.
Light comforted her on most occasions. For the shadow people came in the dimness,
hiding in corners and flickering in the corner of her vision. Still, they could
appear in the most brilliant day, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about
it.
A waitress with curly black hair and a broad smile seated her in a booth. Micky
ordered coffee and wrote down directions to the Gunn Inn. After the waitress left,
she removed her navy fleece hat and waterproof fleece parka. She pivoted her head
from side to side and groaned in relief when her neck cracked, releasing tension.
Feeling a little braver, she glanced around the room. A couple with three teenagers
sat in a booth talking and smiling. An older man sat at the counter with a cup
of coffee. A scruffy man with unkempt black hair sat there, too, munching on fries.
His gritty, harsh expression sent a chill through her.
A man sat two booths away with a menu up so high it covered his face. He lowered
the menu and their eyes locked.
Micky never believed in attraction at first sight. At least not the kind she
felt when she saw this man. A wave of instant, burning attraction seared into
her soul and claimed her.
My, oh, my.
The man possessed a masculine face that could look boyish one instant, take-no-prisoners
the next. With his thick, dark mocha hair trimmed close to his skull, she thought
he might be in the military or maybe another occupation requiring similar discipline.
His eyes looked hazel from this distance but she couldn’t be sure. Intensely
focused, he examined her with equal curiosity. His nose seemed almost perfect;
not too small, not too large. And his mouth boosted kissable lips with a curve
that begged exploration.
The intriguing man wore a toasty-looking navy cable turtleneck sweater. She
wished she could see whether he was a causal slacks or jeans kinda guy.
More than individual physical features, he owned a look of know-a-lot without
the arrogance some possessed; he’d been around the block without becoming
jaded. Micky got the immediate impression of leashed power, a man who welded his
physical skills with discipline. Danger crackled around him like a live wire,
a part of his exterior, his force of personality for all to see.
Most of all, he didn’t flinch from her blatant stare.
For a searing second she imagined his lips on hers, his touch exquisite and
gentle. His cock would slide inside her, stirring into a steady pumping motion
that reached every inch of her sopping wet channel.
As a wave of pure lust surged through her, she popped out of the high-intensity
fantasy with a jolt.
The man continued his appraisal, and she inhaled sharply as heat filled her
face. His steady gaze said he read her mind and liked what he saw.
I’m certifiable. I can’t believe I’m gawking like this
at a total stranger.
A strange noise jolted her attention back to the counter.
The guy who’d been consuming fries picked up his plate and threw it toward
the waitress behind the counter. “Bitch!”
As the plate sailed toward the waitress, the woman let out a blood-freezing
scream and ducked. Glass shattered as the plate crashed into the coffee machine.
The enraged man stood, his hand going under his long dark coat. A big handgun
emerged in his grip, and he pointed it dead on at the waitress.
Cold death gripped Micky, a sub-zero sensation that made her body seize in
place.
Horrified, Micky managed a warning. “Look out!”
Before she could react in any other way, the man swung toward her and took
a bead on her head.
I’m dead.
Instinct kicked in. She dropped, diving toward the guy’s legs.
A blur whooshed by Micky, knocked the weapon out of the man’s grip and
slammed him into the counter with tremendous force. The madman slumped to the
floor in an unconscious heap.
Menu man stood over the menace with feet spread wide and hands fisted at his
sides. His chest rose and fell heavily.
Then he looked at her, sprawled on her belly like a fish out of water.
Seconds crawled as he kept his attention pinpointed on her. Her insides tensed,
her muscles cramped.
“Call the cops and an ambulance,” the man growled at the stunned
waitress behind the counter.
Wide-eyed and trembling, the woman who’d been attacked rushed from behind
the counter and toward the back room. Another server followed.
“You all right?” menu man asked as Micky got to her feet.
She stumbled back into the booth, sitting down with a thump. “Yes.”
She swallowed around the hard lump in her throat. “Thank you.”
She watched the quick-thinking man in fascination. Now he was in plain view,
she saw he stood maybe a hair less than six feet tall, with command radiating
from every inch of him. Menu man wore jeans that curved over his muscled thighs
with intimate closeness. He bristled with tensile strength, chained by the veneer
of civilization.
His gaze flicked to her and the fire in those eyes caught her up once again.
A dazzling combination of gray and green, his gaze stayed intent and blazing.
With the assurance of a woman who followed her instincts, she knew he worked to
serve and protect in some capacity. Either that or he loved to kick butt and take
names. In any case, she’d seen he could be extremely dangerous in the right
circumstances.
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