Mine to Crave

She’d made it at least a mile from the Arrow. In her heels. Damn impressive—especially considering the path she’d taken.

Jasmine wanted to jump toward the main strip, hail a taxi, and get out of there but—

Someone is following me.

At this point in her life, she knew better than to ignore her instincts. And the tenseness at the base of her neck, that too-aware intensity, it told her that she was being followed through those Vegas alleyways.

Was it that bozo who claimed to be a bounty hunter? Like she believed that BS.

Was it Drake’s security guards? Drake?

No, she discarded that idea almost immediately. Drake wouldn’t bother coming after her himself. If he’d had cameras in that room, like the guy claimed, then he would’ve watched them by now and seen that she hadn’t taken anything.

So that left her with option three…the man who’d put her on Drake’s trail…he could be the one in the shadows. She did not want to come face to face with him. Especially since she had to let the guy know that she hadn’t managed to get the information he wanted.

Her back brushed against a brick wall. She strained, trying to listen desperately for a sign of her pursuer. But the fellow was good. She’d give him that. No rustles. No heaving breaths. No—

“Got you, sweetheart.”

The rough words came from her left. Jasmine rushed forward as the dark form of a man pulled away from the shadows.

The bounty hunter. Something was glinting in his right hand. She didn’t know if that glint was from handcuffs or from a knife, and Jasmine wasn’t in the mood to find out.

She kicked off her shoes and sprinted for the safety of that main Vegas strip.

The pavement bit into the bottom of her feet, and she heard the bounty hunter huffing behind her. Ah, now there was the huffing breath. If only he’d given away that sound earlier!

Jasmine jumped from the shadows and ran for the brightly lit street. Horns honked. Cars whizzed past. She only had a few seconds lead on the guy. She raised her hand. “Taxi—”

He grabbed her hand and whirled her around in his arms. Jasmine was pretty sure that she felt the sharp tip of a knife shove into her side.

“You’re not getting away this time.”

Her head turned, and her eyes met his. Even in the darkness, she could see the evil twist of his lips.

“No one’s gonna save you now, sweetheart.”

That was the story of her life. Good thing she’d learned to save herself.

The knife pricked her side. Jasmine gasped.

“This time, you’ll pay.”

***

Jasmine.

Drake saw her, on the side of the street. A taxi was pulling away from the curb, as if she’d just tried to hail it.

She was in a man’s arms. It was too dark for Drake to see the man’s face, but a nearby street lamp spilled light right onto Jasmine’s dark red hair. He saw the back of her head, but he knew it was her. Same dark clothes. Same tempting thief.

He jerked his steering wheel to the side, parking as quickly as he could.

Jasmine and the man were rushing away. The guy glanced back, and Drake caught a glimpse of his face then.

The jerk from my club.

Had he been working with Jasmine all along? Were the two running a scam together?

Only…Jasmine was fighting with the guy. Struggling against him.

“Stop!” Drake shouted as he hurried after them.

Jasmine’s head whipped back. The man didn’t stop, though. He started rushing forward even harder, nearly dragging Jasmine with him.

Jasmine drove her fist into the guy’s face.

He still didn’t let her go.

They were heading for the alley, and Drake raced into that darkness too. He wasn’t just—

“Man, you need to back off.”

Drake stilled. He couldn’t see the guy, but he had caught the flash of light. A knife. The SOB had a knife pressed to Jasmine’s side.

Fury pumped through Drake. “Let the woman go.”

“I told you before…” The man inched forward a bit, and the blade of the knife glinted even more. What had been the jerk’s name? Hardin. Wayne Hardin. “I’m not letting her just get away again. She’s a wanted woman.”

“And you have a knife to her side. Drop it.” Or Drake would drop that bastard.

But Hardin just shook his head. “It’s her eyes, isn’t it? You aren’t the first dumbass to get pulled in by them. She looks all innocent, then you blink, and that innocence is gone. If you gave her the chance, she’d rob you blind, just like she did to the others.”

“Help me…” Jasmine’s voice was so low that Drake had to strain in order to hear it. “Please.”

“I wanted to explain before,” Hardin said, his words rolling right over her soft plea, “but you didn’t give me a chance. I’m a bounty hunter. She’s wanted in Texas—”

“No, I’m not,” Jasmine said, sounding desperate.

“—and I’m taking her back. I’m gonna collect on everything that’s owed to me.”

A bounty hunter? Interesting. Drake braced his legs apart. He kept his hands loose at his sides. “The first thing you’re going to do is drop the knife.”

Hardin laughed. “Seriously? Dumbass, we’re not in your casino anymore…” He pushed forward, coming more into the light, but carefully staying away from the street. So no one else will see you’re a bastard with a knife against a woman’s side. “Your goons aren’t here, and a useless playboy like you sure doesn’t scare me.”

Drake almost smiled at that. He was far, far from useless, especially in a fight. He’d seen more blood and death than Hardin could imagine.

“First, you drop the knife,” Drake said. “Then you let her go.”

“I’m never letting her get away—she’s gonna be my payday!”

“Then…” Drake said, because he wanted to be clear. “I’m going to hurt you. Because I think you hurt her.” That knife was far too close to Jasmine’s side. He knew the fool had cut her. “And you’re going to pay for that.”

“You fucked her,” Hardin said with certainty. “You fell for the eyes, you fucked her, and now you want more just like—”

Jasmine drove her elbow back into the guy’s stomach. He grunted and his hold eased on her. When his hold eased, Jasmine shot forward, rushing right toward Drake.

She ran straight into his arms.

And she seemed to…fit.

“Sonofabitch…” Hardin snarled as he leapt after her.

Drake pushed Jasmine behind his back. He kept his focus on Hardin. “I told you what to do…I gave you a chance…” Now he’d just take care of things. His way.

Hardin lunged at him. The guy still had the knife in his hand. A quick chop and Drake sent that knife falling from what he knew were Hardin’s now numb fingers.

First order…drop the knife.

Drake kicked the knife aside. “Bounty hunters don’t drive a knife into women. That’s not the way their business works.”

Jasmine was silent behind him.

“Did he cut you?” Drake demanded without taking his gaze off his current prey.

Hardin swung at him then, a left hook that Drake easily caught—and held—in his fist.

“J-just a little…” Jasmine whispered back.

“A little is too much.” Drake slammed his forehead into Hardin’s. The guy stumbled back, and Drake let loose then. His hits made instant contact, they were brutal in their intensity, and in seconds, Hardin was on the ground. He was—

“Stop!” Jasmine was in front of Drake. His fist was up, ready to strike again.

But he’d never hit her.

And no one else will, either.

He shook his head as that thought snaked through his mind.

“This isn’t your fight. You need to get out of here.” Jasmine looked back down at Hardin. The guy was rising to his feet. “Just leave him here.”

What? “He attacked you with a knife!”

“And you just beat the shit out of him.” Her voice lowered and he was pretty sure he heard her mutter, “Scary. So didn’t see that coming.”

He didn’t want her scared of him. Wait…what the fuck is happening here?

Her hand went to her side. He grabbed that hand and felt the warmth of her blood on his fingertips. Fury spiked through him. “That beating is just getting started.” She’d lied to him. It wasn’t a little cut. The guy had sliced her.

“Let’s go,” Jasmine said. Her fingers tangled with his. “Just get me out of here, okay?”

Hardin was on his feet. Not advancing. But backing up.

Drake pulled Jasmine closer to his body. “You’re no bounty hunter.”

“Check my ID, check—”

“I don’t need to see your fake ID. No bounty hunter in his right mind would use a knife on a woman. I’ll call the cops and then—”

Hardin laughed. “Hero, you don’t even know the game that’s being played.”

Game. “I know that in any game, I win.”

Hardin backed deeper into the shadows.

“I warned you before to stay away from her. You didn’t listen.” Drake was pretty sure he’d broken the guy’s nose. Good. “I’m not warning you again.” And he also wasn’t done. He was going to—

“I’m not the only one who’ll be coming for you.” Hardin was still retreating and still making threats. “Get ready, hero. Get. Ready.”

Then Hardin turned and fled into the darkness. Drake heard the sound of his pounding footsteps and he wanted to rush after the guy, but he knew that the second he gave chase, Jasmine would vanish.

His hand still held hers. That was probably the only reason she hadn’t already run from him.

He stared into the darkness, listening to those fleeing footsteps.

“I’m sorry,” Jasmine said, her voice as soft as a breath.

He gazed down at her. Her head was bent.

“I-I got blood on you.”

He caught her chin with his left hand. Forced her head to rise, but in the darkness, he couldn’t read her expression.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, then softer, “for everything.”

“Don’t lie, princess.”

Then he was pulling her from that alley. The light of the strip seemed even brighter as he hustled her into his car.

“No, I’m bleeding—”

“And if I don’t get you some help, you’re gonna keep bleeding.” She would need stitches. He’d take her to a doctor. Then he’d get his answers. Drake hurried around the car. It was a sleek, sexy ride. A black Porsche that could cut right through the night. The seats were leather and—

And now the car smelled of vanilla.

“I-I can’t go to a hospital. They’ll ask questions. Questions that I can’t answer.”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Are you wanted in Texas?” Had that part been true?

“Not by the cops.”

That wasn’t quite a full answer, now, was it?

“It’s just a scratch,” Jasmine said, her voice a little stronger. “I can slap some bandages on it and be fine.”

Doubtful. “You’re still bleeding.” That bastard had wanted to hurt her. He had.

And I want to destroy him.

He sucked in a deep breath. Another. What in the hell was happening to him? Sure, control was never actually his strong suit, but wanting to pound a man into the ground?

Not…me.

Drake turned his head and stared at Jasmine. She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were on the alley.

“Jasmine.” He liked her name. Sexy. Feminine. Drake liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

Her head turned. Her hair slid over her cheek.

“If the cops aren’t after you, who is?”

She bit her lip.

He wanted to be the one doing that biting.

You fucked her. You fell for the eyes, you fucked her, and now you want more just like—

“Thank you,” Jasmine told him.

“For what?”

“Saving me. That doesn’t happen a lot for me.”

He cranked the car. The engine immediately purred to life.

“Please.” The word seemed to be a bit hard for her to say. Interesting. “Don’t…don’t take me to a hospital. I’m staying in a motel just outside of town. Just drop me off there, and I’ll vanish from your life. I promise.”

He pulled into traffic. He was far too aware of her next to him.

“If you turn right at the next intersection, you’ll be able to get back to my motel.”

Drake stared at the road ahead of him.

“The turn is here,” Jasmine said, her voice breaking a bit. From pain? From fear? “You should go right—”

He didn’t go right.

“Drake?”

“You’ve got a lot of secrets.”

“Why didn’t you turn? I told you, I’d vanish. I won’t bother you again.”

She was already bothering him plenty. He should drop her off at the nearest hospital. Get on a plane and head down to New Orleans. Find another woman and forget about her. But he heard himself say, “You’re not vanishing.”

The Porsche accelerated.

He wasn’t done with Jasmine yet. She wasn’t going any place, not until he’d figured out just who had sent her into his life…and why the sight of a wedding picture had made her nearly crumble.