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"My Harley," he told her. "Call a cab and have it waiting on me when I get there. I'll see you safely inside your home; then I'll leave. I'm not moving into the house until tomorrow."
"And you care why?"
That didn't make sense. At the moment, Washington County and the surrounding area was rather divided over whether to kill her or to laugh at her. She had witnessed a murder and seen the murderer, and no one wanted to believe her because the murdered hadn't been well liked and the murderer was a powerful member of the community with an unbreakable alibi. And it seemed someone definitely wanted to shut her up.
"Why wouldn't I care?" Nik asked as he pulled to a stop at the intersection. "Not all men are assholes, pretty girl."
Her brows lifted. Pretty girl?
Mikayla watched the traffic, her hands clenched desperately in her lap as she fought to hold on to her control. Fear was a wild creature inside her, barely contained. This was a stranger. He wasn't the man who had attacked her. If he had been, she would 39
have been simply dead. His hands were huge, a fitting match to the extra tall, corded length of his body and his rough-hewn face.
"I didn't say you or anyone else was an asshole." She touched the bruise she could already feel forming on her face. "Except the person who decided to use me for a punching bag tonight."
"You went out without a purse or anything to steal; it's hard to believe it was a mugger," Nik commented. "Why do you think you were attacked?" Mikayla glanced at his profile before sighing tiredly. "You're not from around here, are you?"
He chuckled at that. "Nope. Texas."
"Figures." For some reason, it was hard to see him as a Texan, though. "Been here long?"
"Long enough to rent a house." He grinned as he slid a look her way before returning to the traffic. "And you haven't answered my question." She bit her lip in indecision. "I might have made some people angry." She shrugged, feeling defensive. Angry.
The store was thriving more from curiosity than from her designs. She no longer trusted friends to hold her secrets, because too many had repeated things she had confided to them. She had tried to play the game as Maddix Nelson was, keeping her reserve in public and trying to find the truth by talking to those she knew were connected to the foreman. But no one would talk to her. And Maddix had the perfect alibi. An evening business meeting with the chief of police and two of the members of the city council. It was an alibi she would have believed herself if she hadn't known better.
"Might have?" Nik shot her another glance as he turned onto the interstate and headed for the exit to nearby Williamsport. "How did you 'might have' pissed someone off?"
"Something I'd rather not talk about." Mikayla gave a quick shake of her head.
"I'd rather know why you're here from Texas."
"A job." In profile, the hard, sharp planes of his face held a wicked, sexy edge. The sight, the image of him, had a strange effect on her. Her stomach tightened in response; she could feel her heart racing. It was pounding against her chest, making her breathing short, as she became aware of a peculiar sensitivity within her body.
"What kind of job? What do you do?" She sounded a little breathless, but she could excuse it. She had just been attacked. She'd been struck. God, her father had never even spanked her. That was the first time she had ever been struck in her life.
"I'm in private security," Nik answered, his voice rasping along her senses, almost broken. It was one of the most arousing sounds she had ever heard.
"What kind of private security? Like a bodyguard? A security guard?" She brushed back her hair as the aches of the strikes against her flesh began to actually hurt. At least nothing had been broken.
"Installation of customized security systems in this case," he told her. "I'm good with electronics."
"You said 'in this case'?" She lifted her hand slowly to the ache in her ribs. "Do you sometimes do other things?"
"Bodyguard, deliveries. I'm pretty well rounded." He made the turn onto the exit, then headed through the small town Mikayla called home.
40
"So you're here to install personal security systems. Who are you working for?" She needed a distraction until she could get rid of him.
"Privileged information," he drawled as he glanced back at her. "Sorry."
"Not a problem." She shook her head as they drew closer to the house. A part of her regretted that the ride was almost over.
She felt safe here with him, despite the fact that she didn't know anything about him.
"You're hurting," he stated, his voice hardening as he pulled the Jeep slowly into her driveway and slid it into park before turning to look at her. She almost jerked her hand back from her ribs.
"Some guy just knocked me around for the hell of it," she pointed out with an edge of bitterness. "Yeah, I'll have a few bruises."
