I woke at the crack of dawn, swilled down a pot of coffee, and sat impatiently on the porch to wait for Doc.

He was late.

He’d offered to give me a ride to the motorcycle consignment auctioneers in Palm City to pick up a sweet 1946 Harley Davidson EL Knucklehead Bobber I’d paid for with the money I’d earned from my last black op mission in Afghanistan six months ago. I was champing at the bit to lay eyes on her, swing my leg over her sleek body, and take her for a long ride. I needed this. I needed peace and wind pouring over me so the wounds of war might finally scar over.

When Doc showed, he was driving up in the shitty flatbed Chevy he loved. It was definitely not a pavement princess. In the back, his pit bulls, Sadie and Gracie, barked a greeting as he pulled up in front of the house. I loved Doc’s dogs, but Sadie had been specially trained to assist vets. She woke Doc from any PTSD-induced nightmares and gave comfort.

Now each of them stood wagging in place, leashes secured to the guardrail in front. They peered at me over the sides, wearing big grins, tongues hanging out as they staunchly guarded “Dad’s” truck.

After a hearty slap on the back, Doc and I pulled out for the hour-long drive back to Palm City.

When we arrived, the Mandel twins were already there and drooling over my new ride. Eric and Evan—brothers and fellow vets from our biker group—were known as “Spic” and “Span.” They’d earned their nicknames because in their Ranger squad they’d been known to clean house as a sniper and spotter, respectively.

If anyone could see us, they’d probably think we rarely laid eyes on each other, given all the fist bumps and man hugs. But we were simply brothers in an elite group of eight combat-hardened veterans who had been tested by the blood of war and had learned the hard way never to take friendship—or the future—for granted.

“You’ve got so many bikes now. You must be running out of room, Rambler. Where the fuck are you going to put this one?” Eric asked.

“You know that big-assed coffee table in my family room?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Dude…” Evan howled, shaking his head with a grin.

“You know he means it, right?” Doc asked.

They were too busy pissing themselves laughing to realize I was dead serious.

I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled. “Damn straight. The table’s out and the bike is in.”

We stood around yapping for several minutes about the twins’ new lady, Mazie. They looked genuinely happy for once, and I was thrilled for them, if a bit envious. It wasn’t that I hadn’t looked for a woman who fit in my life. I just hadn’t found anyone I clicked with for more than a night, except…

Well, she was gone. It didn’t matter now.

Doc and I agreed to meet the twins later that night for pizza and beer at Lorenzo’s. As we solidified our plans, my beauty was wheeled out into the Florida sunshine, all ready to ride home. What a sweet sound she made—a low, throaty growl guaranteed to draw attention.

“She sure has a great set of pipes,” Evan complimented. “Wanna swap?”

“Fuck off, Span.” It was my turn to laugh. “A grown-up lady like this has no use for a pup like you. She needs the feel and touch of a grown man.”

That had them all snorting again, but I was done talking. I wanted to ride.

“I’ll follow you back—”

“No need, Doc. I got this.” But I knew I was wasting my breath. I could tell by the set of his mouth that he’d already made up his mind.

“Too bad.” He turned away and headed back to his truck.

The twins followed me out of the parking lot on their CVOs while Doc and the pups brought up the rear. We split up once we hit 714. Spic and Span headed east toward Stuart, back to their woman. Doc and I veered west, back to Lake Okeechobee.

The ride was sheer bliss. Wind in my face, the vibration and rumble of fine machinery. Best of all, nothing else intruded. It was a gorgeous day to enjoy the stretch of road known as the Hundred Year Oaks. The trees along each side had grown up and over the pavement in a canopy. The twisted limbs of evergreens allowed the play of sunlight to dapple and spill through.

The day was perfect—until we turned down the private road and started toward my place. Around a slight bend, near the lake, we found a Land Cruiser on its side in the watery ditch.

I pulled up to the wreck on my bike. Doc stopped his truck a moment later. But I didn’t wait for him, just headed straight down the bank and into the murky water. I could hear the dogs barking as he grabbed his go-bag and followed me.

The SUV, half-submerged in the swampy water, looked disturbingly familiar.

I was already wet up to my thighs and at the vehicle when Doc yelled from the bank. “Is there anyone inside?”

“Don’t know yet.”

Doc made his way into the water to join me, MedPac in hand.

The windshield was shattered, which meant I couldn’t see shit through the web of glass. I climbed up onto the vehicle and managed to wrench the driver’s-side door open.

Then I saw her—suspended by the seat belt and trapped inside. Though her head was slack and turned down, her lovely long blonde hair covering her face, I knew exactly who this was.

Ella.

My gut was churning. My heart racing. Memories rushed back, blinding and brilliant.

The first time I’d laid eyes on her, nearly a month ago, she’d instantly given me a hard-on from hell.

The guys and I had been on a ride, heading home from Tampa. We rounded the curve and found her bent over in the back of her truck, ass sticking out, and a shock of red panties shining in the sun between her luscious thighs. Her legs had nearly blinded me, all tanned, shapely, and teetering on a pair of black stilettos. Providence had been smiling on me that day because the smokin’-hot babe had a flat tire. I’d been more than willing to be the man who helped her—with whatever she needed.

Though the back view of her had been damn fine, when she’d turned and stood, she’d pegged the needle on my make-you-come meter. Her long platinum hair had been clipped back in a black bow, and the curls spilled around her shoulders in a soft tumble. Her gorgeous oval face looked smooth and flushed. Her huge baby blues had all but weakened my knees. But it had been her soft pink mouth that had sent my filthy mind south and unleashed a host of dirty desires I ached to shower all over her sinful body.

I’d peered over my shoulder and noticed the rest of my buddies had pulled over as well. They’d looked just as dumbstruck by her beauty as I was.

When I’d climbed off my bike, she’d sent me a wary expression. I’d probably looked rough and disreputable, but I’d aimed to change her opinion of me—fast. I didn’t want to hurt her, just give her the time of her life.

“Need help with that tire, miss?” I asked softly. “Looks like you’re having trouble.”

“We’ll be happy to fix it,” Dozer offered beside me.

Her expression changed, now somewhere between surprised and relieved. “Please. That would be great. I’m Ella.”

After those quick introductions, we’d made short work of her flat. Meanwhile, Ella met the rest of the gang. That day, for the first time, I really wished I’d been alone.

Spic and Span hadn’t yet hooked up with Mazie. The horny twins had been all over Ella like bees to fucking honey. Even Doc had been in the bloody way, acting like a goofy, wet-behind-the-ears school kid.

It had been fucking embarrassing. And funny as hell.

Sparks wasn’t even in the same league as Ella, yet he’d flirted like he considered himself a studmuffin and a half. Not even close, since—thanks to a diet of pizza and energy drinks—he had a short, round body and needed two vest extenders to keep the leather on. That day, his head had seemingly gone even softer than his belly.

I’d stood staring at the man and bitten back a growl. Though he was no looker and he wore thick, Coke-bottle glasses, Sparks had skills. If he wanted, he could turn an ATM into a slot machine. The good news for me that day? He seriously lacked in the art of seducing a woman. Still, he’d given it his all, and the bastard had me wondering where the hell our tech geek had gone.

But the most embarrassing display had come from Junior, our resident Mr. Fix-it. He was a decent-looking dude, and a millionaire to boot, but he dressed like a homeless wino. I’d seen the shy smile on his face when he glanced Ella’s way. He’d been doing some stupid Southern boy routine, spouting off lots of “ma’ams” as he offered to get his flatbed and tow her vehicle back to his shop.

I’d seen Ella first, and maybe it wasn’t right or mature, but I wanted to slap him upside the head with a tire iron for not recognizing that.

Only Casey, our handy supply expert, had seemed less impressed. He’d been quiet and observant, happy to help but not at all interested in flirting. I’d wondered if maybe he was gay, not that I gave a shit. But how anyone could ignore the gorgeous beauty was a mystery to me. Then again, Casey had always been too quiet. Maybe the sly bastard had finally found his One and was already in love?

Whatever the case, he’d been the only friend I hadn’t wanted to beat the living shit out of that day.

As we’d helped Ella get rolling again, there’d been something about her that got to me—deep down in an uncomfortable sort of way that I hadn’t been able to explain. I didn’t want to. That would have meant I’d have to confront it and give it a fucking name. It was more than attraction or mere like. I’d wanted to grab her, kiss her, stake my claim on her, and never let go.

I wasn’t anywhere near ready for that commitment shit. Was I?

When Casey—of all people—invited her to join us for lunch, I’d nearly choked. But Ella had other ideas. A huge smile that could have melted the sun lit up her face when she’d locked her big blue eyes on me and had sauntered my way.

“I could join you for lunch…or you could take me for a ride.”

You could have heard a pin drop. I’d struggled not to swallow my tongue and find a coherent reply. But elation and thrill had rocked me. I couldn’t manage a verbal answer, so I’d simply nodded. All I could think about was her on the back of my bike in that tight skirt and fuck-me pumps while the rock-hard steel rod trapped in my jeans screamed for joy.

Fate had been smiling on me that day.

My bliss had been short-lived when she opened her pretty little mouth again. “Let me just put on my jeans and sneakers, then I’ll lock the car. Won’t be but a sec.”

When she’d disappeared inside her vehicle, the guys had stood mute for a whole ten seconds before they burst out laughing, as if they’d been privy to my fantasies of Ella and her little skirt. I’d bitten the inside of my cheek to hold back the grin that threatened to spill over my face.

Doc had brought order to the chaos. “The lady has chosen, lads. I say we make tracks and leave them to it.”

“Why the hell would she want to ride your old man fucking rigid when she could perch her hot…err, pretty backside on the padded seat behind me?” Dozer demanded.

“And miss the vibration my bike will give her?” I’d preened. “She wouldn’t.”

“You dirty bastard,” Dozer groused before he’d flipped me off.

Casey had let out a laugh when he and Dozer had climbed onto their bikes.

Sparks had looked totally perplexed. “What the fuck just happened? Seriously, someone please explain how he ended up with the girl?”

“Come with Uncle Junior, and I’ll explain the birds and bees to you.” Junior slung an arm around the man’s shoulder.

Sparks had shoved the man’s arm away. “Oh, fuck off.”

As raucous laughter ensued, Spic and Span had given me fist bumps when they passed.

“That was beautiful, man,” Eric murmured.

“Legend,” Evan echoed.

Moments later, my buddies disappeared in a roar of engines and a cloud of dust.

Ella stepped out of her Land Cruiser and looked around. When she discovered the others had left us alone, she pinned me with a look of hunger, potent and needy. In that instant, my cock had been ready to explode.

I’d taken her hand and brought her palm to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. When she shivered, I’d felt a surge of triumph, but I suppressed it, setting her up with goggles and gloves, instead. Feeling all kinds of eager, I’d waited as she climbed onto the bike behind me.

“Hold on tight. I don’t have a backrest. I don’t want you sliding off.”

“Oh, okay. Like this?” She snuggled forward, plastered her hot body against my back, and pressed every warm, soft curve against me.

“Yeah,” I managed to growl out. “Just like that.”

I’d only driven a few miles when I’d felt the roll of her hips with each breathless rise and fall of her chest.

Fuck! She’s coming, and I’m missing the show.

After pulling over on familiar, deserted ground, I’d flipped her in front of me and gotten an eyeful of her desperation. I hadn’t been able to wait anymore, so I’d taken advantage of her panting pleas, stripping off half her clothes and letting my mouth wander all over her body. After another screaming climax or two, I’d lifted her off the bike and carried her to the abandoned boathouse by the lake.

“Ella? Baby?” I questioned as I set her down.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

That had been the only word I needed to hear.

When I’d delved between her splayed thighs, she’d been soaking wet and ready. God, she’d been so pretty and soft everywhere. I’d meant to take my time with her, but everything about her revved me up.

We’d kissed as I yanked off my clothes and tore away what was left of hers. In seconds, I’d sheathed up and plunged deep inside her.

Oh, shit. I’d reveled in the grunts and squeals she made as I bucked and thrust inside her. She gave herself over to me so utterly, so completely and sweetly. Never before had I made love to a woman who’d felt as if she could become my nirvana. It had been mind-blowing. She had been everything. That night had been beyond.

So seeing her unconscious now, helpless and injured, was killing me. I told myself I couldn’t get involved with her again. She’d nearly torn me up when she left me the first time.

But my heart wasn’t listening.

“Get your fucking ass over here, Doc,” I shouted. “It’s Ella! She’s pinned in. We need to get her out.”

“Is she breathing?”

“Yes.”

“Is she bleeding?”

“Yes, but I can’t see from where.”

I did a cursory look and saw a nasty gash in her hairline. Her pretty face was covered in blood, which dripped into the water that had filled the cab.

“Looks like a fucking head wound.”

“Don’t panic. They bleed like a motherfucker,” Doc reassured as he darted up behind me and tried to push me aside. “Move over and let me look.”

I wasn’t budging. “There’s not enough room. Hang on. I need to get her out.”

“Wait. Let me give you something to support her neck first.”

Doc passed down a neck brace from his kit. I carefully slipped it around her throat. Making sure I had a good grip on Ella, I yanked my knife from my pocket and slashed through the belt.

“Help me, Doc. I’m backing out.”

“Careful now. I’m right here. Try not to move her more than necessary.”

Together we managed to lift her from the vehicle, out of the canal, and up to the bank. Doc went straight to work putting pressure on the bleeding wound. I doubled back to retrieve the backpack I’d seen floating in the cab. She’d probably want that later.

I dropped her pack down beside Doc and silently watched him work. Mind racing, I peered down at her and wondered what the hell had happened. What had gone wrong?

Ella had stood me up two weeks ago. I hadn’t seen or heard from her since. I’d tried to reach out. Nothing. Even now, I couldn’t deal with how shitty and wretched that had made me feel.

As I crouched beside her, even seeing her tugged at my heart, but knowing she was injured…I couldn’t deal. A whole mess of thoughts raced through my brain. Obviously our couple of weeks together had meant more to me than her, but our shared moments were burned into my mind’s eye like a jumbled collection of still frames. The sounds of her laughter mingled with the cries of her passion and echoed in my ears.

Now here she was again. Why? And why did I still feel so raw and angry and confused?

Because she’s your Kryptonite.

She’d tied me up in knots—something no woman had ever done. Then out of the blue, she’d vanished. Her absence had unraveled my world, torn me to shreds, leaving me gutted and hemorrhaging.

Seeing her again had split those wounds wide open once more.

“What do you think, Doc? Will she be okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

“Apart from the cut to her head that could probably use a couple of stitches, she doesn’t appear too badly hurt. I’m not sure the ER can do a lot for her, except charge her an arm and a leg to tell her she’s got a concussion. But I’ll feel better when she comes to so I can ask her some questions.”

“Yeah, I have some questions I want to ask her, too,” I mumbled.

Ten minutes later, we managed to get Ella to my place and lay her out on my kitchen table. Doc did a double check for any other possible injuries and came up negative. As he tended to her head, I turned to bring the dogs onto the porch. After making sure they were okay, I retrieved Ella’s backpack from Doc’s truck.

That’s when I saw the stacks of money. She’d been carrying a shitload of cash. I did some quick math. This was the kind of money average people wrote cashier’s checks for.

My heart stopped. What the hell was she up to?

Head swimming, I brought the pack inside and dropped it on the floor at my feet. Doc looked down and paled.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, yeah. It’s exactly what you think.”

“What the fuck is going on here, Rambler? Open the pack up properly. How fucking much is in there?”

“It’s none of our business, man. She didn’t ask for our help.”

“Really? What the hell was she doing on your road, then?”

Admittedly, since I lived in the middle of proverbial nowhere, it was a good question. “I’ll be sure to ask her when she wakes up.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

I totally was, but I stared at him, stoic and stubborn.

“Don’t be a dumb fuck. If you won’t look, I will. I want to know what else is inside.”

Well, shit.

With a sigh, I reluctantly unzipped the half-open bag and spread it wide.

“Son of a bitch! That’s a lot of Benjamin Franklins. W-what the hell is she, a bank robber?” Doc actually stuttered.

Ella might have broken my heart, but she didn’t have a criminal bone in her body. “It could be a blackmail drop. Or a kidnapping ransom.”

Doc whistled. “Something is definitely up.”

The dogs began barking in alarm, a tone that told me it was a warning and someone needed to get a gun. I didn’t question the canines’ instincts; I simply complied.

That’s when I heard the sound of a big car pulling up outside.

As one, we stepped onto the porch. A big black Caddy, complete with a gold grill and tinted windows, came to a stop. Two Russian-looking mobsters poured from the backseat, wearing identical off-the-rack suits. They made a performance of facing us with legs spread and hands crossed over their balls. They looked like a cheap cliché.

Talk about surreal. I swear I looked around for a fucking movie camera.

Doc and I exchanged a WTF stare before facing them. Sadie and Gracie continued their barkfest, yanking at their chains, throwing spit, and snarling at the intruders. Their warning was crystal clear: stay back.

Goon One stepped forward and sneered, pointing to the dogs. “They are guard dogs, yes?”

Just as I suspected, the voice was laced with an accent that screamed Eastern Europe and manufactured badass.

Neither Doc nor I answered.

When he realized he was shit out of luck on replies, the smile disappeared. He backed up, and Goon Two gave us his best shot.

“We know the girl is here. Give her to us and we go. You live. Everybody is happy.”

“I’ve a better idea,” I said. As Goon Two turned to face me wearing the same sneer as his partner, I flashed him an acidic smile. “How about you both climb back into your pimp-mobile and get the fuck off my property before I blow your brains out.”

His sneer turned down into a frown. “Our business does not concern you. This woman has taken something from our employer and he will have it back.”

The dumb fuck actually unbuttoned his coat and exposed the piece he carried, as if he imagined that would scare me.

I pulled out my .45 and aimed the barrel between his eyes. “Maybe we have a language barrier. Do you not understand fuck off?”

Goon One appeared to have more sense. He gripped his partner’s arm and pulled him back, muttering something in Russian.

As they inched toward their car, they wisely never exposed their backs to us, but Goon Two added a parting shot. “We’ll be back.”

Doc and I looked at each other as they climbed in their car and roared out of the driveway.

“What the fuck, dude? Does he think he’s the Terminator?” I asked with a chuckle.

Doc shrugged as he settled Gracie and Sadie down. “No idea. What the hell…”

Then he left me on the porch and returned to his patient. To Ella, mysteriously injured on my property after weeks of total silence. And now she had Euro-trash thugs after her.

Waiting until Doc closed the door, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I found Sparks’s number and hit send. He answered on the first ring.

“Yeah?”

“I’m home and I’m thinking it might just be what the doctor ordered if y’all came over for a bug hunt.”

“You don’t say. What’s on the menu?”

“Remember that Flat Tire beer we helped by the road about a month back?”

“I do. Very tasty. I would have liked a drink of that.”

“Fucker,” I grumbled. “Just so happens, I have it right here. Oh, and I have White Russians, too. It might be a good idea to make sure everyone brings plenty of mixers.”

Sparks’s chuckle told me he knew exactly what I was saying. “Sounds like our kind of party. Can’t wait.”

“I didn’t ask before, but I think it’s time to check out that brand of Flat Tire, see where it comes from. I’m having a powerful thirst for more.”

“I can do that. What time do you expect this party to start?”

“Oh, it already has, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it gets a bit rough and crazy before the night is through.”

“Thanks for invite, man. I’ll pass the word and make sure everyone comes with enough to go ’round.”

I hung up. The call for reinforcements had gone out. Now it was time to wait.