A Tiger's Bounty (2 page)

“Well, I guess you’re coming home with me, then,” Jace said to himself, then began walking toward his car several blocks down the dark street.

A
mber awoke
to the feel of soft sheets surrounding her, and for a moment, she thought she was at home. She stretched and gave out a long yawn, then opened her eyes momentarily.

The first thing she saw was a little black alarm clock on a brown, industrial-looking end table that was not at all her own.

Funny. I don’t remember buying that.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, hit with a throbbing, pulsing sensation in her head that must have been the oncoming hangover from last night. But Amber didn’t remember having that much to drink.

She looked around and saw a room she didn’t recognize.

Thick, dark-painted brick comprised the room, which was fairly spacious. The bed she was on was very large, with dark satin sheets and a dark-brown wooden frame. Along with the bed, there were few other furniture pieces aside from the nightstand—a bookcase made out of what looked like reclaimed rebar and a metallic-colored armoire. The door to the room itself wasn’t a regular door, but what appeared to be a large, sliding iron plate with a lock at the end that was currently undone.

If not for the fact that the room had its own stylish, masculinely minimalistic appeal to it, she would have thought she was in prison.

Just as she was about to give out a shout for help, her mind was temporarily assuaged by the smell of breakfast drifting in from outside the bedroom. That was until her stomach cramped, reminding her of its emptiness and promising future protest if left unheeded.

Think, Amber. Think. What happened last night?

Amber tried to remember the events from the night before, but everything was shrouded in a haze of nothingness. She was in a bed in what was clearly a guy’s apartment. But all her clothes were still on, leaving her to question how far things might have gone. Her head hurt like she’d allowed herself one too many drinks, but her stomach wasn’t roiling with unfettered anger like it had been the few times she had gotten wasted.

She was in the middle of poring over every possible scenario that could have gotten her in this situation when she was interrupted by the sound of the large metal door sliding open. Without thinking, she hid under the covers and tried to be as still as possible, preferring to feign sleep rather than face whatever person was about to come through the door.

The door slid until it gave a loud clank, announcing the end of the track it rested on. In walked a pair of what sounded like fairly large feet, and Amber did her best to control her breathing. The footsteps stopped right at the head of her bed, and from the shadow cast over the sheets, whoever it was, they weren’t small by any means.

“I know you’re awake,” said a deep voice, masculine and confident.

Amber considered her options. Play dead, though it seemed unlikely he would fall for it. Run for the door, though she probably wouldn’t get farther than the bedroom door. Or face the music and own up to whatever shenanigans she was responsible for.

“Playing dead isn’t going to help you,” said the voice, though she couldn’t tell if it was annoyed or amused.

All her life, Amber had tried to do the right thing, and now was hardly the time to change that.

She pulled the sheets from over her head and was greeted by a pair of the thickest, most muscular thighs she’d ever seen covered in a pair of blue jeans that seemed barely able to contain them. Her eyes trailed up the ridiculously huge male body before her, wanting to linger but trying not to. He was shirtless and had gorgeous tanned skin, an ideal row of chiseled abs, bulging, defined pecs, and broad shoulders with large, toned arms.

Who the heck was this Adonis, and how had she ended up at his place?

She looked higher and saw a pair of deep, orange eyes looking down at her, the color of a summer sunset. His features were chiseled and strong, a straight nose and long, hard jaw. Intense brows and dark hair that fell around his face, contrasting his tanned skin and incredible eyes.

The man grinned amusedly at her and plopped a plate on the end table. The plate was loaded with hash browns, eggs, and bacon, and Amber felt herself salivate at the smell of it, coupled with the sight of so much
man
before her.

“Eat this. It’ll take the edge off of that headache you have. I’ll be in the other room if you need anything,” he said, then turned to walk out, greeting her with the sight of his ripped back muscles and tight ass.

All of a sudden, Amber was full of questions and needing answers. She sat up, grabbed the plate and utensils he’d put down, and stood to follow him. She passed a small mirror on the way out and did a quick once-over to see how she looked.

Hair mussed, makeup smudged from sleep, and tired lines under her eyes. But it would have to do.

She left the bedroom and was greeted by a large living space that was as equally ill-decorated as the bedroom had been. A worn leather couch in front of a TV, a small dining table in the kitchen connected to the living room, and a few stools around a bar, one in which the stranger was currently seated, glancing at a laptop and polishing off a plate of what had probably contained his breakfast.

The minimalism of the place gave Amber the impression this man didn’t entertain guests often, and he probably didn’t spend much of his own time at home either.

The man glanced at her and appraised her slowly, sending a shiver down Amber’s spine, then smiled ever so slightly.

“Sleeping Beauty has emerged. Care to join me?” he asked, pulling out a stool on the side of the bar across from him and then sitting back down.

Amber couldn’t help but be flattered by the insinuation that she was beautiful, but she tried to keep her focus on the man’s gorgeous face instead of letting her eyes wander down to his jaw-dropping pecs.

She came forward and sat on the chair, putting down her plate and utensils while the man poured her a glass of orange juice to go with her meal.

“Sorry for the no-shirt. I don’t like to wear a lot around the house, so I figured I’d meet you halfway and at least wear pants.”

Amber had no complaints. In fact, it made her curious to know what he looked like in even less.

“My name’s Jace. And you are?” he asked, offering his hand across the small bar where they were seated. She shook it, loving the slight roughness and feeling an almost primal sort of electricity passing between them as they touched.

“Amber. How did…? I mean, who are…?” Amber wanted to ask questions immediately, but she had no clue where to start. Her hunger, coupled with the sight of the hottest man she’d ever met in person, mixed with her confusion and lack of memory from last night and short-circuited her brain.

“You eat. I’ll talk,” he said, half reassuring, half commanding.

Amber did so, enjoying the delicious bacon and perfectly seasoned eggs and hash browns. Whoever said men couldn’t cook clearly hadn’t met this man before.

“So I know your name. That’s a good start,” he said with a grin. “Based on the look you gave me earlier, I’d wager you still don’t remember last night.”

Amber shook her head while taking a bite of fluffy scrambled eggs.

“Okay. So to fill you in, last night I found you downtown, in a building on twelfth Street. From what I could figure out, you’d been drugged but hadn’t suffered anything else. You didn’t have your wallet or any other sort of identification, so I brought you here to my place,” he said analytically, as if describing a crime scene.

So much of what he said still didn’t make sense. Why would she be down on twelfth Street? That part of town made her rundown university apartment seem like an expensive hotel, and she never went there. Not even in broad daylight.

“Did you by chance go out by yourself or with friends last night?” he asked.

While Amber was mid-bite, memories from last night started seeping into her mind. Her friends wanting to go out. Them going to a cheap bar on the east side. Her friends ditching her when a couple of cute boys asked them if they wanted to go to a club on the other side of town. Then someone approaching her at the bar.

“I’m starting to remember. We went out last night, my friends and I. Some guy came up to us and asked if we wanted to go clubbing, and my friends left without me.”

“Great friends,” Jace said sarcastically, then took a sip of orange juice.

“Yeah, well, they aren’t the best. But they get more attention, obviously, than a girl like me.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked seriously.

“You know. Like me…” Amber didn’t want to have to spell out the fact that she was chubby and, to date, men hadn’t paid much attention to her, in spite of her best efforts.

“You mean the fact that you’re hot as hell?” Jace said, raising an appraising eyebrow.

Amber felt herself flush, but Jace didn’t appear to notice.

“What happened after that?” he asked, continuing his previous line of questioning.

“After that…” Amber trailed off, trying to focus her thoughts on what came after her friends dumped her. “After that, I got a couple drinks to pass the time. Turned down a few douchebags hoping for an easy lay. Then this one guy came up to me. I tried to get rid of him since it was clear he wasn’t very trustworthy, but he was really pushy, wanting me to go somewhere with him.”

“What did he look like?”

“Stocky. Shaved head. Wandering eyes. The kind that put you on edge if you ever look directly into them.”

Jace nodded as if having figured something out, then closed his laptop. “And you don’t remember anything after that?”

“No, not at all.”

“He must have drugged you while you were at the bar, then taken you back to his place downtown. Thankfully, nothing happened. It’s just good I intervened when I did,” he said, standing and walking a few paces, looking both relieved and bothered by something else.

“Should we call the police?” Amber asked, worried this man could come after her again.

“I’ve already taken care of him. You have nothing to worry about there,” Jace said, folding his arms. But there was something cryptic in the way he said it that made Amber extremely curious.

“What do you mean?

“Nothing. It’s all been sorted out with the proper authorities,” he said, sitting back down and tenting his fingers. “So tell me about you. What’s there to know about Amber?” he asked inquisitively.

Amber wanted further explanation on what he’d just said, since it seemed to reference much more than he was willing to expose, but she let it lie. The last thing she wanted to do was impose on a person that had probably saved her life.

“Not much. I go to the local university. I’m in my fourth year. Just have one more semester before I’m done. Now that school’s in summer term and none of my classes are offered, I’m looking for full-time work. But in this economy, something even half decent is hard to find without a degree,” she said, getting bored by her own story and afraid this hot man was starting to feel the same.

But to her surprise, he watched intently, as if hanging on her every word.

“Interesting. So what degree are you working on?”

“Primary education with an emphasis in working with children who have special needs.”

“So you want to be a teacher?” he asked.

“If possible, yes. I love working with kids. I mean, no one’s guaranteed a job around here with the budget cuts lately. But I don’t plan to give up,” she replied, poking at the last bite of food on her plate, trying not to think about the prospect of graduating with the possibility of not having a job after.

“I imagine you’ll make an amazing teacher,” Jace said confidently.

“And what’s that based on?” Amber asked, caught off guard.

“Just a hunch,” he said, smiling to himself, then standing to get her plate and put it in a small sink behind them. After that, he walked into the bedroom and produced her purse. “I think this belongs to you.”

“My purse. You have it, thank goodness,” Amber replied gratefully, opening it and rifling through the assorted contents.

“Your wallet isn’t inside. Let’s hope you forgot it at the bar. Though, the man who drugged you might have stolen it.”

“Where would it be in that case?”

“Anywhere. In a gutter somewhere probably,” he said frankly.

Amber released a long sigh. It wasn’t the first time her wallet had been stolen, but it didn’t make having to call to cancel her cards and getting a new ID any easier.

She closed her purse, and Jace pulled on a T-shirt, a dark gray without any logos or graphics, which seemed to only further accentuate those rippling muscles. Having her wallet stolen was worth it if she got a look at the most perfect body in the world. She closed her eyes and tried her best to commit the sight to memory.

“I guess I’ll take you home now,” he said, sounding tentative for the first time this morning.

Amber got it, though, the whole situation was awkward as it was, and the sooner he got rid of her, the sooner he’d be able to go back to doing whatever it was he did.

“Sure,” Amber replied, giving Jace her address as she followed him out a heavy steel door and up a long staircase that was more reminiscent of a dungeon than any apartment building she’d been in. At the top of the staircase was another door with a row of locks on it, which Jace undid, leading them outside into a quiet alleyway.

Whoever this man was, privacy and safety were two things that were extremely important to him.

At the end of the alley was a vehicle with a tarp over it. He pulled off the tarp to reveal a large, black muscle car with windows tinted so dark she couldn’t even make out the color of the interior. Though Amber was no car buff, she could tell the vehicle was modern, powerful, and probably very expensive.

With a click on his keys, the doors unlocked.

“Hop in,” Jace said, getting into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, rumbling at a low hum.

As Amber slid in, she noted the backseat was separated from the front by a reinforced cage, the kind of thing you only saw in police vehicles.

Maybe he was an undercover cop or something like that.

But nothing about his demeanor said “cop.” Even in the short amount of time she’d spent with him, Amber couldn’t imagine Jace ever working for anyone but himself.