Accidentally…Over? (Accidentally Yours #5)(11)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

There. It was decided: once Fernando got the hang of things, she would cut down her hours. Who knew, maybe she’d take up photography again. Until then, however, it was business as usual.

She glanced at her watch. “Oh no.” She needed to open the café in ten minutes. She scrambled to her bedroom, stripped off her pj’s, and threw on a pink tee, jean shorts, and her favorite little leather belt with the pink flowers. She slipped on her sandals and dashed to the bathroom.

When she flipped on the light, she immediately noticed the bags under her eyes. The bloodshot whites made their greenish-hazel color look more like sad, drab army green.

“You’ll get through this,” she said to herself and began brushing her teeth.

A flitter of motion moving down the hall caught her attention. She jumped. Holy shit.

Toothbrush in hand, she slowly peered out through the bathroom doorway. “He-he-hello?”

A burst of wind gushed through the house. Crap. She hadn’t left any doors or windows open. Someone was inside.

Ohmygod. Find a weapon.

She looked at the toothbrush in her hand. What are you going to do with that? Give the intruder minty breath? She threw it into the sink and slid open a small drawer in her vanity, where she kept a pair of stainless steel scissors.

Hand violently trembling, she made her way down the hall toward the living room. “I have a… knife! So you’d better run.”

Is that the best you can do? Really?

“Fast,” she added.

Dork.

She repeated the phrase in Spanish for good measure anyway.

She glanced around the corner and quickly peeked at the living room and entryway. Her front door creaked as a gentle breeze nudged it completely open.

Strange. Her purse remained on the small hand-carved wooden bench in the entryway. Why would someone break in but leave her purse? Her car keys were right there, too.

Oh no. Whoever was inside the house didn’t want her valuables. So then what could they possibly be after?

She gasped. I better get the hell out of here! She bolted to the door, grabbing her keys and purse. She ran to her car and got inside, but when she tried the engine, nothing happened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” She tried again.

Ohmygod. Okay. Think, think, think. She could open the gate and run for help, but her neighbors’ homes were gated in the front and it was still completely dark out. It might take forever to get one of them to wake up and let her in. Many weren’t even around this time of year.

She could try to find Luis, but he didn’t patrol the road. He stuck to the backs of the homes where break-ins were more likely.

Okay. She’d have to make a run for it. She’d go around the side of her house, through the garden, and down to the beach. The intruder wouldn’t even see her. She grabbed her purse and took a breath before pushing open the car door and sprinting to the left side of her house. She slowed right before getting to her sitting area under the large palm tree; she didn’t want to run into any chairs or potted plants.

Panting quietly, trying to ignore the frantic thumps inside her chest, she cautiously skirted around the tree.

“Aaa-chew!”

She froze. Babyjesusholycowohlord. Had someone just sneezed on the back of her neck? Ewww. And… Shit, shit, shit.

“Aaa-chew!”

She covered her mouth to keep from screaming. The intruder was right behind her.

Oh, infernum. He couldn’t believe he’d done that. She must’ve had plumeria in her garden. He was allergic to those. Yes, deities had allergies. For example, it was a well-known fact that Belch, the God of Intoxication and Wine, couldn’t eat gluten, though it didn’t stop him. And the stupid bastard didn’t even have to eat. Then there was Akna, Goddess of Fertility; she couldn’t eat shellfish. She also had an aversion to garlic, undercooked meat, and anything spicy. Similar to a pregnant human female. As for him, it was plumeria. “Aaa-chew!”

Deities all mighty. He stilled and held his breath. He hoped she didn’t run. With her luck, she’d end up tripping on a pebble and breaking her neck.

“I can’t see you, but I know you’re there,” she said between several heavy breaths. “And whatever you think you’re getting from me, you won’t. I’ll die before I let you rape me.”

Rape her? Bloody hell! “I’m not going to touch you. Not like that, anyway. But if you run…” Though his vision rivaled that of any nocturnal beast, he could barely make her out in the dark but saw she remained motionless, her back to him.

Poor woman must be terrified. What a complete ass**le. He was supposed to protect her, but instead ended up terrorizing her.

Or killing her. Or letting her be taken out by a bee while you jerk off. Idiot.

“And if I do run. What are you going to do?” she challenged.

“You do not want to get hurt, do you? Accidents happen all the time.” Oh, hell. That had come out all wrong. It had sounded like a threat.

“Why do you want to hurt me? What have I done?” she asked bitterly.

This was not going well. “I do not wish to harm you; I simply want to talk.”

“Like hell you do.” Something hard and fast knocked him over the head. He fell to his knees.

Six

Ashli heard a loud gong when the shovel made contact. From the sound of the intruder’s deep groan and his body hitting the ground, it had been a direct hit to the head. “That’s right! Nobody messes with the Ashli… the Ashli…” The Ashli-nator? The Ashli-cutioner? The… Oh. Forget it! “Nobody messes with me!”

Okay. So now what? She needed to go find Luis or call the police. If she left, he might wake up and escape, only to return another day and carry out his sick, psychotic fantasy.

My belt! She slid it from her waist and gave it a quick tug between her hands. Yes, it was thin but made from strong leather. It would be perfect for tying his hands.

She crouched, feeling for the stranger’s arms. Dammit. If only she could see him, but it was still pitch-black. Winter sucked!

Her fingertips encountered warm, bare skin, smooth and tight. Oh, what a firm pectoral muscle. Her hands slid farther south over a set of steely, exaggeratedly ripped abs—wow, are these implants?—stopping short of where his waistband might be.

Shit. She snatched her hand away. This guy wasn’t wearing any clothes! Pervert! Hurry! Tie him up.

She sucked in the crisp predawn air and reached for him again. Okay. Shoulder. Oh! There’s another pectoral. Also insanely hard and bulgy. Pervs must have a lot of time on their hands to go to the gym. Bet he has a damned membership to 24-Hour Perv-ness! And don’t think about the odd tingles in your fingers. Or how his chest is built like a Greek god. Because that would then make her the perv. Or stupid and lame. Either way, not good.