Free Riding Steele: Untamed by Opal Carew Page A

it.”
    Steele’s commanding voice stopped her in her tracks. She couldn’t see him, but his voice came from the big, bright room on her left.
    “Come in here and sit down,” he said.
    Defeated, she turned away from her possible escape.
    Wild Card, the man who kidnapped her last night and brought her here, came out of the room and walked toward her. He wasn’t as tall as Steele, but was still intimidating towering over her. She still remembered leaning against his big, hard chest, his arm around her waist as they had sped through the night on his motorcycle. And how frightened she’d been.
    And still was.
    She drew in a breath.
    “You okay?” His hazel eyes were warm and concerned.
    She shook her head. “I’ve been kidnapped and brought here against my will, and I’m being held captive.” She stared up at him with as much defiance as she could muster. “So to answer your question, no, I’m not all right.”
    Instead of looking apologetic, he simply held her gaze. “I know you don’t like the situation you’re in, but I’m not sorry about bringing you here. Have you thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t come along and gotten you away from that asshole?”
    A shiver shuddered through her.
    “That guy was going to hurt you,” he continued, “and you know that. I couldn’t let that happen.”
    He gestured toward the other room and she walked toward it.
    As soon as she stepped into the big room, filled with sunshine from the huge windows overlooking a glittering lake, she was aware of Steele. He sat in a big armchair, his booted foot resting on the wooden coffee table with wrought iron trim in front of him as he stared outside, sipping from a steaming mug.
    The blended décor continued through the rest of the house, with the log walls and heavy wooden cabinets and shelves, and the latest electronics tucked into place in the rustic furniture. The upholstered furniture was big and comfortable looking, in earth tones.
    “You can sit at the table. Shock is making you some breakfast,” Wild Card said as he followed her.
    Laurie walked to the dining table at the far end of the room and sat down.
    “Coffee?” Wild Card picked up a thermal jug and poured steaming coffee into one of several empty mugs sitting on the table.
    Laurie nodded, her throat too choked up from memories of last night and the way Donovan had treated her. And the realization that if this man hadn’t shown up, Donovan would have hurt her. If he’d stopped even pretending to be civilized, she was sure he was capable of raping her, beating her … hurting her badly. And with his money, he would make any potential consequences just go away.
    Wild Card pushed the filled mug toward her, then poured another. Laurie poured cream into her cup, then added a spoonful of sugar and stirred. As she lifted the cup, the aroma helped draw her from her dark thoughts. When she took a sip, her taste buds danced at the delightful flavor.
    Wild Card smiled. “Yeah, the people who own this place have great taste in coffee.”
    Her gaze darted to his. “Did you break into this house?”
    “No,” Steele said. “A friend arranged for us to stay here.”
    A few minutes later, another tattooed man came into the room with a plate of food. He had the darkest brown eyes she’d ever seen, with an even darker rim around the edges. His hair was thick and wavy, long on top and cut tight at the sides, accentuating his ruggedly handsome face. On his bicep was a bright colored star tattoo. As he walked closer, she realized that there were two dragons, one red, one blue, framed in the star, facing each other, each with a claw on a single sphere between them.
    He walked toward the table and smiled.
    “Hi. My name’s Shock.” He placed the plate in front of her. “I hope you like western omelets.”
    She glanced at the perfect half-moon-shaped omelet with two strips of bacon lying beside it and a sprig of parsley. It smelled heavenly. Who knew a