“Didn’t mean…to startle you.” A man in a leather coat stood in what used to be the doorway. He was tall. And big. At least six-three or four, with broad, powerful shoulders. A once-black T-shirt, now covered in dust, stretched tightly across his well-defined chest. Low-slung jeans with a studded leather belt and chain accentuated his narrow hips. He was dressed like an outlaw from a motorcycle gang.
He was also favoring one leg and cradling his arm.
Without thinking of the consequences, she flew to his side and righted an overturned chair. “Here. Sit.”
When she helped him into the seat, her hand inadvertently brushed his. Before she jerked it away, a visual list of his injuries rolled like movie credits in her head. Concussion but no head trauma, broken clavicle and leg, cracked ribs, torn meniscus, multiple contusions.
“No. I…can’t.” He had a strange accent. One she’d never heard before. “Need to…find my dog.”
She blinked once, confused, and then she remembered the dog outside. “He’s yours?”
The man brightened. “Is he here?”
“No, I saw him a few minutes before all this happened.”
His face fell and he started to push himself up.
“Hold on,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Got…to…find…him.”
It was strange to see such a man looking so vulnerable. Because his injuries weren’t life-threatening, she’d be able to heal them fairly quickly, though. “You’re not going anywhere like this. Not until I can—”
As soon as she bent down to kneel in front of him, her mother’s admonitions rang in her head. What the hell am I doing? She pulled her hands back as if she’d just burned them. She couldn’t let anyone, especially a stranger, know what she was capable of. It wasn’t like he was dying, she reasoned. It would be a different story if he were. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”
He was studying her a little too intently, and she got the distinct impression it wasn’t because he didn’t believe what she’d said about his dog.
“Wait here,” she ordered, standing up quickly. “I’ll let someone know you need an ambulance.”
“No,” he said vehemently. “No ambulances.” He sure didn’t sound confused anymore.
Unruly dark hair, which included a few thin braids, hung over his brow, reminding her of the wild stallions in the horse books she’d read as a kid. His features were chiseled, his jaw square and strong. His nose, though straight, had a bump on the bridge as if it had been broken once or twice. Not tonight, but earlier. And his eyes…God, those eyes.
They were almost otherworldly.
Framed with thick lashes a girl would kill for, the steely-gray of his irises glimmered in the glare of the aid cars’ lights as if they were backlit. Even though he was hurt, she found him rugged, powerful, and utterly beautiful.
“I saw you here…earlier.”
He had to be confused, because if he’d been in, she’d have remembered him. He wasn’t the sort of man she’d ever forget. “Oh really?” she asked, humoring him.
“You gave him…water. Thank you.”
“You did see me,” she said, a little startled. She narrowed her eyes, trying to think of where he could’ve been. “Were you…?”
“Across the street,” he finished. “At the club.” His voice had a rough, hardened edge, which she found oddly soothing. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking around the rubble of the wine shop.
No, she wasn’t okay. She was shaken up, freaked out, and really, really scared. But she was alive. And unlike him, she wasn’t hurt.
“I was trapped downstairs in the wine cellar when it happened. I just got out. The only thing I saw was—” She pointed to Marco. “That’s the owner. He’s dead.”
He glanced over and his expression hardened. He cursed in a language she didn’t recognize. “And you? You’re not injured, lass?”
Lass? Is he visiting from Scotland or something?
His concern for her despite the fact that he was in much worse shape struck an unexpected chord. “I’m…I’m fine. Really. Please, let me get you some help.”
“No. No help for me,” he repeated. “But my dog…”
She glanced around the destroyed tasting room as if the animal would magically walk out from under the debris. “Dogs have a sense for these things. He probably took off right before it happened. I’m sure he’ll turn up. Maybe he’s nearby and looking for you.”
“Yes, you’re right.” He grabbed the back of the chair and tried to push himself to a standing position.