Tamed By Her Touch

DAVINA'S POV

The knife went straight through his hand.

I’d aimed for his throat, but he shifted at the last second.

For a moment, he just stared at it without even screaming, then he looked up at me with those dead, flat eyes and smiled.

"She's got fight in her," He tilted his head toward the second man behind him, completely unbothered, blood already dripping onto my floor. "Grayson's going to like that."

My heart was pounding so hard that I could almost taste the coppery taste of fear.

Just three minutes ago, I'd been closing up Books & Brews for the night.

Now my front window was shattered, two men were in my shop, and I was trapped behind the counter with nothing but a kitchen knife and my courage that was quickly running out.

"I already called the cops," I lied, inching toward the back exit.

My phone was in my purse on the other side of the counter, which meant that I was completely screwed.

The second man laughed. He was bigger than the first, and had an athletic build, with a nasty scar across his cheek. "Sweetheart, the cops can't help you where you're going."

A cold prickle crawled up the back of my neck. "I'm not going anywhere with you." I shot back, trying to sound brave.

“That’s cute,” he replied, a smirk creeping across his face.

The scarred one moved left, and the bleeding one moved right.

They were trying to trap me, and I had maybe five seconds before this got a whole lot worse.

My pulse thudded in my ears.

Think, think.

My hand moved before I could think it through, and I grabbed the French press and threw it.

Glass shattered as it hit the scarred man's chest, and hot coffee splashed across his face and he jerked back with a roar, clutching his face, and I took my chance and ran.

Two steps…

Three… then something slammed into me from behind.

Air left my lungs as I hit the bookshelf so hard, and paperbacks rained down on my head.

A pair of hands locked around my waist, dragging me back.

The bleeding man's breath was hot against my ear. “Stop fighting,” he muttered, tightening his grip. “This doesn’t have to hurt.”

I drove my elbow backwards into his ribs with everything I had and he grunted, his grip loosening just enough for me to twist free.

I lunged for the back door, and my fingers wrapped around the handle… but then, Scarface grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me backward.

Pain ripped through my scalp, I hit the floor hard and stars exploded across my vision.

A high ringing filled my ears and my vision swam, blinking in and out of focus.

Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Scarface say something about "getting her to the van."

So, this is how I die, in my own bookshop, just three months after finally escaping Steven.

Three months of rebuilding my life from scratch.

Every dollar saved, every box of books stacked, every quiet night in this little shop that was finally mine, so this is how it all ends.

My throat tightened… No, it can't end like this.

Just then, the front door exploded, the frame splintered, and hinges tore free from the wall as the door slammed into the opposite bookshelf hard enough to crack the wood.

I pushed myself up on my elbows and standing there, where the door used to be, was a man who literally made me forget how to breathe.

He was tall, easily six-three, with shoulders that filled the doorway and dark hair that fell just past his collar.

He was wearing a black shirt that clung to every muscle, with jeans that hung low on his hips.

He gave the two men a menacing look then he turned and his eyes found mine and I froze.

They were amber… burning amber.

"Get away from her," he said, his voice laced with barely controlled rage.

Scarface wiped coffee off his cheeks and laughed. "Storm. Didn't think you'd show up personally for this one."

"I said, get away from her."

The bleeding man still had me pinned, his hand tightened on my arm, his nails digging in hard enough to leave a bruise. "Grayson wants her delivered tonight, and you don't have a claim yet."

"I'm making one now.” Then he moved.

One second he was at the door, and the next, his fist was buried in Scarface's stomach, lifting him off his feet before slamming him into the wall.

Scarface hit the wall hard and slid to the floor, gasping.

The bleeding man let go of me and lunged at the stranger with his own knife.

The stranger caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted it, and the crack that I heard made my stomach churn.

The scream that followed was immediately silenced by a knee to his face.

The whole thing took maybe ten seconds.

I scrambled backward until my spine hit the counter, with my chest heaving.

The stranger stood in the middle of my destroyed shop, breathing hard, with blood spattered across his knuckles and slowly, he turned to face me.

Those amber eyes found mine, and something jolted through my chest like I had just touched a live wire.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was softer now, but the intensity was still there.

I couldn't speak, so I just shook my head.

He took a step toward me, and I flinched instinctively.

He stopped immediately, raising both hands, with his palms open. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I glanced at his hands, then at the two men sprawled on the floor. “Who are you?”

“Someone who’s been looking for you.” His jaw tightened as he glanced at the men. “We need to leave, now. More are coming.”

"More what? Who were those guys? Why did they…"

"Davina."

My blood ran cold. "How do you know my name?"

Something flickered across his face, but it was gone before I could figure it out.

He opened his mouth to answer, but then his head snapped toward the broken door, and his nostrils flared.

"We’re out of time," he muttered.

Before I could process what was happening, he crossed the space between us and scooped me up like I weighed nothing.

I yelped, instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders, and Oh God he was solid muscle and his skin was very hot and I could feel his heartbeat against my ribs.

"Put me down!" I snapped, pushing against him. “I mean it…”

"Can't do that." He was already moving toward the back door, carrying me like a bride. "They'll kill you if I leave you here."

"This is kidnapping!"

"I'm saving you, there's a difference."

He kicked the back door open and stepped into the alley and the rain hit us immediately.

I struggled, but his grip was too strong.

"Let me go, or I swear to God I'll…"

"You'll what?" He looked down at me, and even in the dark, even with rain streaming down his face, I can swear that those eyes glowed. "Scream? Fight? You already tried that, Davina, it didn't work."

My breath caught because he was right, I'd fought, and I'd lost, and if he hadn't shown up…

"What do you want with me?"

His jaw clenched and for a moment, I thought he might not answer. Then, quietly, almost too quiet to hear over the rain, "Everything.”