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Jeez, this day was going from bad to worse.
And right then a strange, almost inhuman sound, like a man roaring in anguish, echoed throughout the terminal. Long and mournful. Like someone raging in desperation after having been put through the worst pain imaginable.
Goose bumps formed on her arms.
“What was that?” someone asked.
Hannah looked around, trying to discover the source of that haunting sound. She turned back toward the main lobby and noticed the blur of a large figure moving fast through the crowds. A few people were yelling, angry at being pushed aside. By what, or who, she wasn’t sure.
“Get on the bus,” T’Antor gritted. She glanced back at him, surprised at his sudden urgency and the bossiness of his tone.
Hannah shook her head and blinked, trying to keep her mind off of the disturbance, which she was certain was not her monkeysnorher circus, and instead kept her eyes in front of her.
“Good morning.” The bus driver smiled in greeting.
Hannah returned his smile as she stepped onto the bus. She walked past the other seated passengers, down the narrow center aisle to the only seats not yet taken, in the back of the bus. She sat down in the last row facing forward, and T’Antor sat perpendicular to her, in a row facing to the right. She stared at his profile and let out a sigh of relief that he’d chosen a spot that allowed her a bit of space.
“This is going to be fun,” she remarked, with maybe a hint of sarcasm.
He gave her a curt nod.
Okay then.
Hannah glanced longingly at the Red Hat Society ladies, who were snort-laughing at each other’s jokes and having entirely too much fun. She sighed. Maybe she could ditch T’Antor later and they would be kind enough to take her in?
And just as the shuttle rumbled to life, someone banged heavily on the glass door. Banged and banged, ready to break the door down. Hannah’s eyes widened. Everyone turned their heads to gawk.
The door opened, and the bus shook as someone thumped up the steps. A huge man emerged at the front, his wide chest heaving as he gulped in great breaths of air. His entire form blocked the front entrance. Wild silver eyes scanned the passengers seated inside. Finally, his gaze landed on Hannah and stopped. His entire body seemed to relax with relief at the sight of her.
Wh…what?
Her jaw dropped as she made eye contact with this man from across the bus. The intensity, power and force emanating from his gaze alone… Her heart sped, and her body heated up. She couldn’t look away. It was all too weird, because he kept staring as if knew her. Why was this guy looking ather? Did she know him? No. No way.
And she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. He had that same super-pale skin as T’Antor. Which didn’t make sense, because wasn’t albinism supposed to be rare? The chances of there being two people of this same coloring in the vicinity…that had to be next to impossible, right?
And, unlike T’Antor, this man was enormous, big and burly, dressed in severe black—black trench coat, shirt and pants. But even though his clothing and frame were harsh and badass, his features and expression were divine. Thick, glossy white hair swept back from his face, cut short in back and left longer on top. And dear God, his nicely trimmed, white-gold beard and mustache were utter perfection.
He looked like an avenging angel. Danger and salvation. Sex and…
A growl rumbled in T’Antor’s throat.
What the hell?
Hannah managed to tear her gaze away from the gorgeous male specimen at the front of the bus and noted that T’Antor’s eyes now blazed behind his lenses, like he had pinkeye. And his skin appeared—rosy tinted? “Are you okay?” she asked him. “Are you feeling sick?”
He shook his head, pretty much ignoring her as he continued to glare at the new passenger.
The enormous guy with white-gold hair and Matrix-type clothing pounded his way down the center aisle. Hannah watched as his jacket swept behind him, giving her a terrific view of his trim torso and epic thighs. He stopped directly in front of her, wherein all his enormity, his potent masculinity, was suddenlyright therein living color. Her breath caught in her throat.
She lifted her chin. He grinned down at her, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. Oh shit, a dimple. Her core clenched. Dimples were her kryptonite.
Along with beards and hard muscle.
Jesus take the wheel.
Then he sat down in the seat next to her—a surprisingly light maneuver, considering his size.
Her cheeks heated. Why was he sitting so close? There was plenty of room in the back, lots of empty seats he could’ve chosen so they’d both have more space. But instead he decided to mash his giant body into the seat right next to hers?
