by Ramona Gray
She was alone in the house of a powerful shifter who could kill her with a flick of his fingers.
No big deal.
She could do this.
Chapter Two
Daisy’s inner voice had apparently given up on trying to convince her that she was going to die. It was weirdly silent, and that was freaking her out a little. She stepped into the kitchen and set the kit on the table before opening it.
She rummaged through it and pulled out a non-stick bandage, medical tape, a couple packets of antiseptic wipes, and a package of steri-strips.
Cooper sat perfectly still at the table, his admittedly very pretty blue eyes watching her as she laid out the supplies in a neat row.
Ignoring the herd of rhinos stampeding through her stomach, she said, “Ready?”
He nodded and held out his hand. She unwrapped the tissue from around his finger. She winced when it stuck to the cut, but Cooper didn’t flinch. It had started to clot, and she studied the slice in his finger before glancing up at him.
“I think you actually might need stitches.”
“Just put some steri-strips on it. It’ll be fine,” he said.
She wanted to argue but what if that upset him and he got angry with her?
She ripped open an antiseptic wipe and carefully cleaned up the blood all around the cut before using a second one to get the smears she missed with the first one.
His hands were warm and rough feeling. The hands of a guy who worked in construction instead of an office.
As if he’d read her mind, he said, “I’ve been helping Boone restore his house.”
“That’s nice of you.” She mentally cheered at how normal she sounded.
She pushed together the edges of the cut, glancing up at Cooper when he hissed out a breath.
“Sorry,” he said, like it was his fault she was hurting him.
“I’m almost done. Hang in there.” She applied the steri-strips, then placed the non-stick bandage on top of it and taped it into place.
“Thank you, Daisy.”
“You’re welcome.”
He scratched at the red and irritated skin on his neck with his left hand.
“Be careful,” she said. “You don’t want your finger to start bleeding again.”
“Yeah,” he said before scratching again anyway. “I’m not used to being unshaven, so my skin is bugging me.”
She cleaned up the wrappers and the bloody wipes, putting them in the garbage can at the far end of the kitchen. Cooper’s kitchen was nice, maybe a little on the messy side, but the guy was down an arm at the moment. She wouldn’t be putting the dishes in the dishwasher either if she’d been shot in the shoulder.
“If you tell me where the broom and dustpan are, I’ll clean up the glass in your office,” she said.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll clean it up later,” Cooper said.
She pointed to his bandaged finger. “Maybe you shouldn’t risk it. You keep this up and Wes won’t only have to make you dinner, he’ll be spoon feeding you too.”
A grin crossed Cooper’s face and her breath caught in her throat. Not from fear this time – oh no, this was something else. Something that felt a little like lust. Which was absolutely ridiculous because as good of a kisser as Cooper was, she would never want any shifter in a sexual way. Ever. The day he’d kissed her, when she’d felt the same tingling in her lower belly and in her nipples that she felt now, that wasn’t lust either. That was just a… weird type of fear.
“Broom and dustpan are in the front closet. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll be right back.”
She grabbed the broom and dustpan as well as a large garbage bag from the closet. She placed the broken picture frame on the desk and quickly cleaned up the glass and dried blood. When the floor was spotless and glass free, she tied the garbage bag and set it on the floor before glancing at the doorway.
It was empty and she picked up the picture frame and studied it. It was a picture of Cooper, Grayson, Boone, and Wes, as well as a man she didn’t recognize. They were standing in a row in some hot and dusty desert. Their arms were slung around each other’s shoulders, their military fatigues were dirty, and the dog tags around their necks glinted in the hot sun.
She knew they’d been in the military together. Knew that Cooper had left and then started Shadow Security, knew that one by one the others had left the military and joined him. But she didn’t know who the fifth man was, the one standing next to Boone with laughing brown eyes and a recklessness to him that radiated out from just the picture.
She turned her gaze back to Cooper, studying each feature of his face before tracing it with her finger. He looked every bit the leader in the photo that he was, and a shiver went down her back. For all his kindness toward her, for how attuned he seemed to be to her fear, she couldn’t forget that he was a killer. All the shifters were. It was in their nature.
Grayson, a tiger shifter who worked at the firm and was Cooper’s best friend, had just, in fact, killed a human.
Because he went after the woman Grayson loved. You can’t blame him for that. The human was crazy and would have killed Grayson’s mate. Remember when Cooper gave you that amazing kiss, and then called you his mate and almost killed that jaguar? Same thing.
Her inner voice was back and, like she did a lot as of late, was vacillating between trying to convince Daisy that Cooper was gonna kill her and reminding her that Cooper was a really great kisser.
It was enough to drive a person crazy.
She set the photo frame down and picked up the garbage bag, carrying it back to the kitchen and placing it in the garbage can.
“Thank you, Daisy. I appreciate you cleaning that up,” Cooper said.
“It’s no problem. Do you mind if I grab some water?”
“Not at all. There’s bottled water in the fridge.”
She grabbed two bottles of water and opened the first one, handing it to Cooper who said, “Thank you.”
He tilted his head back to drink, and she winced at how red and irritated his throat was. She drank some water and capped the bottle before clearing her throat. “So, do you want to start with dinner or a shower?”
* * *
The water exploded from Cooper’s mouth with the force of a geyser. He gasped for air and unfortunately sucked more water into his lungs. He coughed and choked as Daisy patted his back. He hacked out another harsh bout of coughing that sent fire radiating from his shoulder down his arm. He groaned and grabbed at his arm through the sling as he coughed and coughed again.
Daisy’s small hand touched his right forearm, touched and then pressed firmly, stabilizing his arm against his chest as he coughed. It helped a surprising amount. He covered his mouth with his left hand and coughed up the remaining water in his lungs.
He drew in a ragged, whistling breath and Daisy used her other hand to rub his back. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he croaked. He wasn’t. His shoulder was throbbing and burning. He glanced at the pain meds sitting on the counter. He hadn’t taken any today because they made his lion side slow and uncoordinated, and his human side say stupid shit.
Last night, Boone had stopped in after work with pizza. He’d taken one look at Cooper’s pale and sweaty face and made him take a couple pills. Half an hour later, Cooper was babbling about his secret love for romantic comedies and exactly why they were the perfect movies before he’d revealed his stash of over a hundred romantic comedies downloaded on his laptop. The last thing he remembered before the meds knocked him out was making Boone lay in bed with him and watch When Harry met Sally on his laptop.
Maybe that’s why Wes sent Daisy in his place? Boone probably told him all about your goddamn romantic comedy love.
He scratched at his throat. Boone would fucking ride his ass forever about the romantic comedy shit.
His lion had started purring the second Daisy rubbed his back and, too busy thinking about romantic comedies and how much his shou
lder hurt, he hadn’t even tried to hold it in. He realized that the kitchen practically vibrated with the sound of his purring.
He swallowed the sound, ignoring his lion’s growl of disapproval, and cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“Is your arm okay?” Daisy stopped rubbing his back and stepped away. His lion whined in protest.
“Yeah,” he lied.
She studied him before glancing at the pain meds sitting on the counter. “When can you have your pills again?”
“Anytime,” he said. “I haven’t taken any yet today.”
An adorable scowl crossed her adorable face. “You shouldn’t do that, Cooper. I know you’re tough but there’s a reason you were given pain meds.”
She thinks we’re tough!
His idiot lion was strutting and purring and asking him to shift so he could mark her. He almost laughed out loud. The idea of shifting in front of Daisy was so ridiculous, it bordered on insanity. She would freak the fuck out if she ever saw him in his lion form.
That hurt his lion’s feelings and the damn thing made a pathetic whimper before retreating. He wanted to soothe it but talking to his lion was a mistake around Daisy – a mistake he’d already made twice in the last half hour. It made her nervous when he spoke to his lion, and he usually tried hard not to do it in front of her.
“So, do you want to eat first, or do you want to shower first?” Daisy said.
“I don’t need to shower,” he said.
“Wes said you did.”
“Wes was wrong.”
“You don’t smell like he was wrong,” Daisy said.
He flushed, and the scent of her embarrassment washed over him. “I’m sorry. That was rude. But Wes did mention that you haven’t been able to shower since you left the hospital and that’s over three days. You must want a shower.”
“I do,” he admitted.
“Okay, well, let me help you.”
His lion sat up, purring and preening and acting like he thought Daisy might take one look at his naked body and fuck him in the shower.
His cock stirred in his track pants and he gritted his teeth. Yeah, the shower thing was definitely not happening. If Daisy touched him, started bathing his naked body like Florence fucking Nightingale, he would immediately spring a fucking woody. She’d take one look at his erection and run screaming – right after she told him she quit, that was.
“No,” he said.
The look of exasperation on her face was kind of cute. Especially since it was usually fear. It reminded him of how she’d looked when he made her stay in his truck while he tried to save Grayson and Ryan from that insane jaguar bitch who was holding them hostage. Daisy had been pissed that he wouldn’t let her help.
Maybe the key to her getting over her fear of him was to constantly piss her off?
Yeah, smart plan, Einstein.
“It’s no big deal,” she said.
“Maybe to you,” he said. “But I’ve never let an employee see me naked and I’m not starting now.”
“I’ve already seen you naked,” she said.
His blush burned brighter. She’d ignored his instructions to stay in the truck and had shown up while he was lying naked and bleeding on the floor.
His gaze dropped to her perfect tits. She’d whipped off her shirt and used it to stem the blood flowing from his shoulder. He could still remember how pale and silky soft her skin had looked. How absolutely perfect her breasts had looked even in the ugly beige bra she was wearing.
He made himself look away from her chest before he really did spring a woody. “Only briefly and only because you didn’t do what I told you to do.”
She scowled at him again. “You’re only the boss of me during work hours.”
“It was during work hours,” he said.
She blew out her breath in another exasperated sigh. “You were shot and needed my help.”
“It was dangerous, and you could have been hurt.”
“So you keep saying. Except here I am, perfectly fine, and here you are, in a sling and needing help to shower.”
He wanted to scowl at her but secretly he was enjoying this feisty side of Daisy. It was a welcome change from her usual fear.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’m not comfortable with you helping me shower.”
“Okay, that’s fair.” She traced the tips of her fingers over the long scar that ran along her forearm. She did that whenever she was thinking, and he found it utterly enchanting.
Of course, he found everything Daisy did enchanting.
“You really only need help with getting your sling and shirt on and off, right?” she said. “Like, if you had to, you could wash your hair and body with your left hand. It would be awkward but doable.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Okay, well, I’ll help you with that stuff, turn the shower on for you, make sure you can reach the soap and shampoo and then leave you to it. Deal?”
He scratched at his throat. “Deal.”
“Okay. Are you good with the shower first and then I’ll cook you dinner?”
“Sure.” He stood and acutely aware of how good she smelled, he left the kitchen. She followed him upstairs to his bedroom.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, it’s kind of messy.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “I won’t judge.”
He pushed open the door with his left hand, wishing he’d at least picked up his clothes off the floor. His bedroom wasn’t a pigsty, but he did have quite the pile of dirty clothes and he hadn’t made his bed.
“This is nice,” she said.
Her fear was back. He could smell it covering her like a wet blanket. He automatically moved away from her. Being alone with him in his bedroom would obviously terrify her. Why was he so fucking stupid? He should have used the guest bathroom instead of the one off his bedroom.
“We can use the other bathroom,” he said. “I’ll need to grab my shampoo and some soap from this bathroom.”
She was standing near the door, her arms folded across her torso and her fingers tracing the scar on her forearm. She took a deep breath and gave him an approximation of a smile. “Don’t be silly. This one is fine.”
He studied her for a few seconds, and she made a ‘go on’ motion with her hand. He headed into the bathroom, honestly surprised when she joined him. He didn’t think she’d be able to stand in the small room with him, and a trickle of pride went through him at how brave she was being.
Our mate isn’t brave yet, but we’ll take care of her until she is.
He ignored his lion. Daisy wasn’t their mate, no matter how much his lion thought she was.
He scratched again at his throat and Daisy said, “Did you want me to set up your shaving supplies for you first?”
“No,” he said. “Shaving with my left hand isn’t a good idea.” Although he was seriously considering giving it a try. The itching was driving him crazy.
“I can shave you,” Daisy said.
He jerked in surprise and his sudden movement made her cringe and back away. The smell of her fear thickened, and he decided now was the perfect time to put his newfound knowledge to use. He’d annoy her into forgetting her fear.
“No offense,” he said, “but women can’t shave a man properly. You’ll either not get a close enough shave or you’ll shave off the skin. I like it exactly where it is – covering my throat.”
The scent of her fear turned to astonishment and then, he grinned inwardly, to annoyance.
“Cooper Brooks that is the most sexist thing you’ve ever said.”
He shrugged. “Men are better at shaving than women. Well, maybe not legs, but definitely faces.”
She gave him a huffy look. “Oh, that’s it. Sit down on the toilet. You’re getting a shave whether you like it or not.”
When he didn’t move, she stepped closer and poked him lightly in the chest. “Sit your butt down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
He closed the lid with his
left hand and sat on the toilet, watching as she picked up the shaving cream and squirted a healthy dollop into her hand. When she moved toward him, he opened his legs. His lion purred like an idiot when Daisy stepped between them without hesitating.
She smoothed a layer of shaving cream over his face and then his neck. She didn’t caress the cream onto him so much as she slapped it onto him, but his lion didn’t care. It was purring and trilling, and it was taking all of Cooper’s willpower to hold the sounds in.
She rinsed her hands and then filled the sink with hot water before wrapping a towel around his shoulders. She was still annoyed with him, he didn’t need her scent to tell him that, but she was infinitely careful when she placed the towel around his injured shoulder.
He inhaled her sweet scent, the smell of vanilla nearly making him dizzy with desire. He studied her mouth as she reached for the razor. Thanks to the kisses they’d shared, he now knew the vanilla scent came from her lip gloss. He was dying for another taste.
He was starting to get a stiffy and he immediately thought about how it would feel if she accidentally cut his throat open. He leaned back when she brought the razor toward his face.
“Have you done this before?” he said.
“I haven’t shaved a face, but how hard can it be?” she said.
“More difficult than legs,” he said.
Her annoyance flared deeper. “I shave my girly bits for God’s sake, I think I can handle your face.”
Her face flamed red the moment she said it and she stared at him in horror. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I said that.”
He couldn’t believe he was purring and purring embarrassingly loud. He blamed it on the fact that he’d had to switch to using every ounce of his willpower not to stare at Daisy’s pussy. Okay, so he knew she shaved. No big deal. Plenty of women shaved.
Sure. But does she shave everything? Or is there a small patch of perfect curls for you to kiss? You should ask her.
