Against the Storm and Wyoming Cowboy Bodyguard by Kat Martin

Author:Kat Martin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2023-05-16T13:13:50+00:00

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In a blinding rage, Trace grabbed the first guy by the back of the neck, spun him around and hit him so hard that his feet left the ground and his head cracked against the pavement. From the corner of his eye, he saw Alex grab the second guy, a muscular Hispanic with a faint mustache and deep-set black eyes. Alex slammed the gangbanger’s head against the side of the van once, twice and again, and Maggie’s purse tumbled out of his hands. Through the window, Trace saw Ben jerk open the driver’s-side door, drag a second Hispanic guy out of the vehicle and smash a fist into his face.

Trace turned an instant too late. His opponent was on his feet, a tattooed arm swinging a punch that split Trace’s lip and sent blood flying across the front of his shirt. He rammed a fist into the thug’s belly. A right, then a left, followed by third blow left the guy reeling.

Flicking a glance at Maggie, Trace saw the red mark on her cheek and punched him again, slamming him to the pavement. This time he didn’t get up, until Trace grabbed the front of his tank top and hauled him to his feet, ready to hit him again.

“Trace!” Maggie’s high-pitched shriek cut through the bloodlust, dragging him back to his senses. He shook his head to clear it and reined himself in, his fist shaking with his effort to stay in control. He’d known better than to make Maggie a target. The minute he spotted the van, he knew he had made a mistake.

Trace turned to see Alex mopping up the pavement with the gangbanger in the do-rag, then hauling him up beside the van. Ben goose-stepped the driver around the front of the vehicle, his arm cranked up behind him.

The guy with the serpent tattoo hadn’t moved since Trace knocked him ass-over-tea-kettle onto the pavement. Trace stepped over the unconscious figure, checked the pulse beating at the side of his neck, found it strong and steady, and headed for Maggie.

She was trembling and pale, her hands scraped raw from her fall on the asphalt. Trace drew her into his arms.

“It’s okay, honey, it’s over. Everything’s all right.”

Maggie took a deep breath, but didn’t let him go. All Trace could think was how glad he was that she was only scared and a little bruised, not seriously injured. She took another breath, managed to nod, and reluctantly, he released her.

A crowd was beginning to gather. In the distance, he could hear the wail of a siren.

Maggie gazed up at him. “I don’t... I don’t understand what’s going on. Is one of these men my stalker?”

“No,” Trace said darkly. “Maybe you ought to go sit in the car, turn on the AC.”

Maggie firmly shook her head. “No way.”

The white guy was still unconscious. Trace turned his attention to the driver of the van, who appeared to be in his late twenties, with a shaved head and small goatee.

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