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“Christ a’mighty. Your meal’ll be out in a minute. Excuse me.” Gwennie walked away briskly and turned to the new arrivals. “Sit down and behave yourselves, or by God, I’ll throw you out of here.”
Suzanne shifted in her seat. The blond man eyed her. Her pulse quickened, and shivers rippled up her arms. Get out of here. Every instinct inside her screamed at her to leave. She lifted her purse and prepared to stand, when Gwennie came back carrying her bowl of soup and plate of food. Hell, she was starving.
She finished her soup and had taken three bites of her burger, when a striking black-haired man sat down across from her. “Medium rare, eh? Me, I prefer them bloody.”
“Excuse me?” Suzanne stared into the man’s icy blue eyes. Her stomach lurched. Something was not right here. I should have left when I had the chance.
“Bloody rare. That’s the only way to eat beef of any kind.”
“That’s an E. coli nightmare.”
“You’re new here.”
“Yes, and I don’t recall asking for company.”
The man laughed, exposing very white, straight teeth. “I’m Rex. Rex Donnelly.”
“Fascinating.”
“Not a friendly sort, are you?”
“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.” Suzanne rose and covered her unfinished meal with her napkin. She reached into her purse, pulled out a few notes, and laid them on the table. “Tell Gwennie to keep the change.”
She stomped out of the café into the warm summer night. She checked her watch. Nearly midnight. What had she been thinking, coming out after dark in an unfamiliar town?
“A fine lass like yourself shouldn’t be wandering around at night.”
Her arm jerked backward as her neck prickled. She turned to face Rex Donnelly.
“Let me walk you to your ride.”
“No thank you. I’m perfectly capable—”
“I insist.” He pulled her into the shadows and behind the building.
“My car is out front,” Suzanne said.
“Just a little detour. You won’t be harmed.”
“Please, I really just want to—”
Suzanne gasped as Rex pushed her into a trio of men waiting behind the café.
“Here you are,” Rex said. “Fresh. American, no less. Take only a taste. You know the rules.”
He disappeared into the shadows.
Suzanne’s heart pounded as the three men eyed her. Their lascivious gazes seemed to melt through her clothes. The big blond from the café stepped forward and cupped her cheek in one large, calloused hand.
“Mighty pretty,” he said.
Dear God, no.
“What do you want? I don’t have any money.”
“It’s not your money we’re after, lass,” the second man said. His black eyes burnt holes in Suzanne’s skin.
“God, please don’t hurt me.” Her heart hammered. “I-I won’t tell anyone about this. I swear I won’t.”
“You’re right about that,” the third man said. His long nutmeg hair rustled in the night breeze. “You won’t remember it.” He stepped forward, pulled a strap of Suzanne’s tank down over her shoulder so it draped along her upper arm, and grabbed her breast roughly, pinching the nipple. “She’s stacked mighty nice.”
Suzanne’s breath came in rapid pants, and her heart stampeded.
God, please let it happen quickly. Quickly, and with minimal pain.
The blond stepped forward. His pale hair was caught in a low ponytail, and a few wisps hung around his harsh face.
Lord, he’d be handsome if he weren’t so evil.
His green eyes smoked as he gazed into Suzanne’s. “We’ll be quick, lass. I promise you that.”
Suzanne squeezed her eyes shut, and something grazed her neck. Lips? No. It felt sharp. Something scraped against her skin.
She opened her mouth and let out a piercing scream. “Help me! Someone help me! Please!”
4
Suddenly, a rumble emerged from the darkness. Suzanne opened her eyes only slightly to see a dark figure step forward. Briskly, he pushed the nutmeg-haired man to the ground and then dispensed with the black-eyed one. Before the blond could harm Suzanne, the tall figure wrenched him from her and slammed his ponytailed head into the brick wall of the café.
Suzanne screamed and sank to the ground, hot tears falling from her eyes. Her stomach clenched, and she doubled over, but then forced her body to straighten, unable to tear her eyes from the man who had rescued her.
“You ever come near her again, and I’ll kill you, do you understand me, you bastard?” The stranger’s Scottish lilt was deep and husky. Again, he pounded the blond man’s head into the wall.
Suzanne watched in horror as blood gushed from the man’s ears and mouth. His skull thudded against the reddish stone, and several streams of crimson trickled along the brick.
“Please stop! You’ll kill him!”
The stranger turned and stared at her, one arm still holding the blond. The irises of his hazel eyes swirled in the moonlight. He returned his attention to her attacker.
“I won’t say it again, you fucking pile of sludge. You stay the hell away from her.”
The blond man, miraculously still alive, buried his nose in the stranger’s neck and then looked up, and his gaze met Suzanne’s.
