“Hannah?” His raspy voice skittered along her nerve endings like a match to flint and, in spite of getting caught—or perhaps because of it—the gruff sound enflamed her to instant arousal.

Hannah opened her mouth and then closed it. She couldn’t think of a thing to say. She, who was usually the articulate one of the bunch, was speechless.

Keeping hold of one of her wrists, he dragged her around the corner and up onto the porch. Once in the light, he took hold of her other wrist and stared down at her. He brought his free hand up and cupped her chin. His gaze skated over her face. Blue eyes glittered with lust. “Looks like you tangled with a cactus and lost,” he mused and leaned down to press a light kiss on a scratch on her cheek. “What’re you doing here?”

When she remained silent, gentle affection turned to hard suspicion. “What’re you doing here?” he repeated. He shoved her hands behind her back, wrapping one big hand around her wrists. The position made her body arch. His gaze went to her breasts, and the heated passion in their depths flared.

Her womb clenched at his show of dominance. She gave her head a mental shake. She wasn’t here for this. And, seeing how he waited patiently for her answer—not patient as in a teacher with a student, but patient like a predator stalking its prey—she inwardly cursed. No one had prepared her for this type of situation. What could she say? I was out for an evening stroll—in the middle of nowhere—and got lost?

Nope. That wouldn’t work.

My ship crashed?

Nope.

I stole your cattle?

Hell, no.

His hands tightened on her wrists.

“I…ah, I—”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? That’s why you’re here. You’re one of the rustlers.” He bent her back slightly, his face coming within inches of hers. “You shot Ian.”

Her eyes widened. “No!” Okay, that was a lie, but no way was she going to admit she’d injured his friend.

“I think you did.” Without warning, he stooped and folded her over his broad shoulder like a she weighed no more than a bedroll. As he straightened, she tried not to notice the smooth, supple skin of his back or the flex of the muscular ass covered in jeans, but it wasn’t easy to ignore so much sexy maleness within pinching distance.

Struggle, you nitwit. Hannah bucked against his shoulder. A big hand smacked her butt, startling a shriek from her. Her body liked that big hand on her ass, because her pussy slicked with cream.

He strode to the door and opened it, carrying her inside. “Ian!” he called out. “Look what I’ve got.”

Jax set her on her feet. From behind her, he immediately clamped that broad hand around her wrists, holding them once more behind her back. Ian came out of the other room, a towel draped around his lean waist and another one hanging over one tanned shoulder. His dark brown hair was damp and tousled, his skin still moist from his recent shower.

Green eyes narrowed on her face before his gaze swept up and down her body, taking in her black clothing and boots. “Well, well.” He looked at Jax. “Seems to me you said something about someone’s ass being yours?”

“Mmm. You’re right. I have been talking about discharging my weapon to get him—or, rather her—to talk, haven’t I?”

“Listen, guys, you have the wrong idea…” Hannah trailed off as Ian came closer. His stride was loose-hipped. God, he was sex-on-a-stick, a stick that tented the towel he wore.

He brought his face close and whispered, “I don’t think we do, little thief.”

“You tell me where my cows are off to, and it’ll go easier with you with the authorities.” Jax spun her around to face him.

Ian grasped her wrists, keeping them captive behind her back. He moved in, the heat from his body covering her like a living blanket.

Hannah couldn’t tell. It’d be handing a death sentence to the defenseless bovina, not to mention jail time for her friends. Clamping her lips together, she shook her head.

She felt a momentary unease. But in their encounter a year ago, Jax had been dominant but gentle, so she had no fear he would hurt her. Ian was a wild card, but she couldn’t believe Jax would let him hurt her, either. Deep in her gut she knew she was safe.