Just A Hint - Clint. Lori Foster
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and loosening her stiff joints that seemed frozen in place.
As the pain eased, tiredness sank in, and Julie slumped against him. She’d been living off adrenaline for hours, and now being safe left her utterly drained, unable to stay upright.
It was like propping herself against a warm, vibrant brick wall. There was no give to Clint’s hard shoulder, and that comforted Julie.
One thought kept reverberating through her weary brain: He really saved me.
For a single moment, he seemed wary at her limp acceptance of him. Then, as if handling an infant, his arms came around her. Large, rough hands opened on her back, cradling, soothing.
“Mojo,” he said quietly, “how bad’s the damage?”
The man who was darker than sin lifted one massive shoulder. “Same as usual.”
The blonde filled in with a grin in his tone. “No one’s dead, Clint, but you broke a jaw, busted a knee, broke at least one wrist…”
Clint leaned slightly away from Julie and looked around at the scattered, moaning bodies with a scowl. “Shit.” Julie felt his tension, though his voice and his touch didn’t change. “They can still talk?”
“Yeah.” Grim relish imbued Mojo’s tone. “I’ll make ’em talk.”
“I’d like to kill them,” Clint said in that same moderate tone, “but I suppose I’ve done enough.”
Mojo looked down at Julie, his devil’s gaze filled with tenderness. “They had it coming.”
“Yeah.” Clint’s big hand cradled the side of her face. “Can you stand?”
As in use her legs? “Of course.” But Julie wasn’t sure. Humiliated by her own weakness, she clung to Clint as he lifted them both to their feet. The second she was upright, she burrowed close again. He stood so much taller than her, her face came even with his bare chest. Crisp hair tickled her nose, her chin.
Facing the world was more than she could handle just yet. She was…ashamed. Embarrassed. Still shaken. And she felt very needy—something that didn’t sit right with her—but she’d used up all her reserves and couldn’t find the gumption to fight off the feeling.
This man seemed willing to hold her, and for the moment, she was more than willing to let him. God knew, there was no one else.
A strange stillness hummed in the air as all three men went silent. Someone cleared his throat. Someone shifted. The evening breeze swirled around them, mingling the male scents and dispersing the sense of danger with fresh air.
Clint spoke close to her ear, and she detected the minty mouthwash on his breath. “Why don’t you let me get this shirt on you, okay?”
More humiliation swamped her senses. She’d completely forgotten that her nightgown was torn. Remembering how her abductors had gotten increasingly mean as they drank, she shivered. She didn’t want to let Clint go—so she didn’t.
With her nose pressed to his chest, she whispered, “Petie tried to touch me, but I couldn’t…couldn’t let him but he held onto my gown and then it ripped and they…” Her voice dwindled to an embarrassing croak.
“Shhh. I know.” Clint did some more rubbing, then offered as a balm, “I broke his jaw.”
Fierce satisfaction filled her. “Good.”
His whiskered jaw teased her temple when he smiled. “C’mere. Let’s turn you around.” Still holding her close, he rotated them both so that her back was to the other men. To her relief, he didn’t force any space between them. “Your arms feel better now?”
“Yes.” They did, but not much. Petie had tied her hands as soon as he’d taken her, and then kept them tied. Her limbs had first gone to sleep, then gone numb. She ached. Not just her muscles, but deep down inside herself.
Keeping her against him as much as possible, Clint carefully removed his shirt from where it had been draped over her front. He shook it out one-handed, not looking at where her exposed breast flattened against his wide, naked chest.
Julie didn’t need to look. She felt the mingling of their heartbeats, hers too fast, his slow and easy and, given her circumstances, very reassuring.
Using infinite care, he lifted her right arm and began dressing her.
Julie let him, aware of the caution in his touch, his breath on her shoulder, the softness of the worn cotton as it pulled over her head, down her arms. He eased her an inch away, and the material slid over her breast, over her nipple.
She couldn’t meet his gaze.
The shirt hung to the middle of her thighs and would have easily wrapped around her twice. With incredible gentleness, he smoothed it into place. “Better?”
“Yes.” And it really, really was.
Silence, then, “You okay?”
Head down, she nodded. “Yes.”
Clint hesitated before touching her chin and lifting her face until she had to look into his eyes.
“Those are an awful lot of yeses you’re giving me, Julie Rose.”
Mesmerized, Julie got caught in his gaze again. His eyes were…well, there was nothing ordinary about them, though she couldn’t really say the green was anything special. There was just so much intensity, so much emotion there. They’d looked cold earlier, but now they burned with heat.
The bonfire behind her reflected in his face and made pronounced shadows beneath his high cheekbones, his sculpted jaw, his square chin. He wasn’t what she would have termed a classically attractive man, but he was a hero. A bona fide, kick-ass, more than capable hero who offered her safety, and to Julie, that made him the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
When she continued to stare up at him, he tried another smile. This one looked better than the one he’d given her right after throwing up. It was a smile of encouragement, of understanding. A little arrogant, a lot sweet.
He smoothed her tangled hair, lifted it out of the neckline of the shirt. “Did I scare you?”
He’d spoken in a whisper, so Julie did the same. “When?”
“A little bit ago. When I was…” His mouth flattened as he searched for the right word.
“When you were beating them up for me?”
Surprise shone in his face at the way she’d worded that, but he didn’t correct her. “Yeah.”
“I wasn’t afraid.” She turned her cheek into his big hand, wanting him to understand that she wasn’t a coward. “I was relieved.”
“Good.”
Julie almost smiled, too, but then Petie groaned, a broken sound of horrible pain. She turned her head.
“It’s okay, Julie Rose,” Clint told her. “He can’t hurt you now.”
Wondering at the way he’d used her full name, Julie turned away from the man who’d taken her, abused her. She curled into her rescuer’s side. “I know.”
“We should go.”
She was a schoolteacher, a woman used to taking control of unruly classes and dealing with difficult, often exasperating parents. She held her own in all situations, even standing up to Drew whenever necessary. She wouldn’t keep acting like a fool now. It was over. She was safe.
Julie nodded. “Go where?”
Clint stalled. His heavy arm rested over her shoulders. His body was alongside hers, powerful and comforting. He didn’t look at her for the longest time.
“Back to your fiancé,” he finally said.
Julie blinked up at him and then leaned away. She didn’t know if it was the relief