Saved by an Angel

by Roberta Capizzi

  The voice behind me had my heart jumping up my throat and clogging it completely. My stomach twisted, and when Peter’s eyes lifted from my face and settled on the man behind me, I could only hope he’d finally be discouraged and go back to his teammates.

  “I’m an old friend of Claire’s. We’re just getting reacquainted.” His tone was even more slurred than before, but I could hear the aggressive note in it. Not a good sign. “Mind your own business, and get the hell away.”

  David stepped beside me so I could see him, and when our eyes locked, I knew he would see the fear in mine, but I didn’t care. I just wanted Peter to let me go and forget this incident.

  “Peter was just going back to his buddies,” I turned to look at Peter and hoped he wouldn’t make a scene in front of David.

  “No, I wasn’t. You were coming back to my hotel with me, doll, remember?”

  “Like hell I will!” I yanked my hand, but he didn’t let go and pulled me closer to him instead. The stench of alcohol mixed with sweat was like a punch to the gut. I was really going to throw up now.

  “Hey, leave her alone.”

  David shoved Peter but he barely moved an inch. If they got into a fight, David wouldn’t stand a chance. Peter had been a rugby player for more than a decade, and his bulk had intimidated many an opponent. I couldn’t let this get out of hand. I couldn’t let David get hurt.

  “Peter, please just let me go and we’ll pretend nothing happened.”

  “Did you hear her? Get your bloody hands off her.”

  Peter moved his murderous stare from David to me, and a sly grin appeared on his face. “So, is this who you’re screwing now?”

  He released his grip just a little, and I took advantage of the distraction to finally free my wrist. I staggered back from the release, and David placed his palms on my back to steady me. I ignored the shivers that raced up my spine at the contact.

  “You okay?” David whispered, and his warm breath on my ear caused a hot flush to replace the shivers. I nodded, still shaken—by Peter’s appearance, but most of all by David’s proximity.

  “Ah, I’m sorry for you, pal. You’ll agree with me she’s not very good between the sheets.” Peter took a gulp of his ale, and gave me a smug grin before returning his gaze to David. “I’ve screwed my share of females, and this one was a total turn-off. You’d better start looking around for free milk somewhere else, ’cause you won’t get much out of this cow.”

  David’s face twisted with rage, and he took a step closer to Peter, seemingly not at all afraid of his bulk.

  “Lousy bastard,” David said through gritted teeth, and before I could do anything he punched Peter, square in the face. Peter recoiled a little, probably more from the surprise than because David had hurt him. I grabbed David’s arm and tried to pull him back.

  “David, please leave it. He’s not worth it,” I pleaded. He didn’t look at me, and when a second later Peter landed a right hook on David’s face, I screamed and got in between them. I didn’t care if Peter hit me again; I wouldn’t let him hurt David.

  The patrons surrounding us parted, some people standing back, others leaning in to look who was involved in the fight. Someone cheered Peter with a slurred, “Go tackle him, buddy”, which I presumed came from one of his teammates. Only a few seconds passed before a burly man dressed in black slacks and a black t-shirt with the bar logo pushed through the people around us, with a scary frown on his face.

  “What’s going on here?”

  David was leaning against the counter, holding a hand to his face, and tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I wouldn’t give Peter the satisfaction of seeing me cry again, so I turned toward the bouncer and told him the rugby player had hit my friend who was trying to defend me from him. The bouncer gave him a ‘well?’ look and Peter shrugged, grabbed his glass and looked me straight in the eye.

  “Just a misunderstanding. I’m leaving.”

  He spun and walked away, and a second later Ciara came running toward us, eyes wide as saucers when the bouncer moved away from us, his murderous glare still in place.

  “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” She reached out for me and pulled me into a bear hug, asking if I was hurt. The last thing I wanted was more attention drawn to us, so I took a step toward her and put my hands on her arms.

  “It’s okay, Ciara. I’m fine. I’ll tell you about it later at home, all right?”

  She nodded and looked over my shoulder. Her eyes widened even more when she saw David.

  “Oh my God, David. You’re bleeding!”

  I spun around and now that he’d removed his hand from his face, a trickle of blood gushed out of a cut on his cheek.

  “We need to get that wound dressed. Let me ask if they have a first-aid kit.”

  His hand was on my arm, my bare arm, before I could move, and he shook his head. Once again, I ignored the shivers at the contact. “No big deal. I’ll go home and put some ice on it.”

  Ciara shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You can’t drive in that state. Take him back to our place: the first-aid supplies are in the downstairs bathroom.” She pushed me and I suddenly found myself up against his warm chest, squeezed between him and the counter. He took a step back, allowing me to recover the breath that had left my lungs at the unexpected contact.

  I met Ciara’s gaze and she lifted a shoulder, mouthing an apologetic “whoops,” which in all honesty didn’t look as if she was sorry at all. I couldn’t help wondering whether this was one of her matchmaking tricks. Then I realized I never told her David was Mr. Dazzling Eyes, or the guy I’d bumped into that night at the pub, and surprisingly so far she hadn’t added two and two, so I was safe.

  After the crowd parted and everyone forgot about us, a couple of guys, who I guessed must be David’s friends, came to check on him, asking what had just happened.

  “A jerk was annoying my friend here and things got a little out of hand,” he said with a shrug, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

  One of the guys looked over David’s shoulder and frowned as he saw me, probably trying to understand why David would get involved in a fight for a girl who wasn’t even his girlfriend. Okay, technically that was what I was thinking, but I was positive his friends must be wondering why he’d gotten into a fight for me.

  After they asked him if he needed a ride to the ER and joked about him looking like one of the actors from that Fight Club movie, they waved goodnight and walked out of the pub.

  I stared at David as he shook his head and chuckled at his friends’ words, and my heart fluttered in my chest, making me feel all fuzzy. Even though I was still recovering from the fright the interaction with Peter had caused me, I couldn’t deny the surge of pure attraction that seeing David playing knight in shining armor for me had lit inside my body.

  Ciara nudged me with her elbow, shaking me out of my daze. “Are you going to let him bleed to death? Take him home, now!”

  I grimaced when David turned around toward us and he was still holding a napkin to his cheek, trying to stop it from bleeding.

  “We live just around the corner,” I explained, trying not to make it sound as if I were inviting him back to my place because I had a hidden agenda of my own. “I can dress your cut, put some ice on it and you can drive home once it gets better.”

  He removed the napkin, stared at it and changed it with a new one. “Um . . . Okay, thanks.”

  I said goodbye to Ciara and we walked out into the chilly mid-September night.

  “You must be freezing,” David said as he walked by my side. I shrugged.

  “I’m okay. We live close, no big deal.” I wondered if he’d offer to give me his denim jacket and if the smell of his cologne on it would stick to my skin, making me want to never take a shower again.

  Okay, no more romantic movies for you, Claire.

  We reached our house minutes later, and as I opened the door Robbie came barking down the corridor.

  “I hope you’re not afraid of dogs.” I’d for
gotten to mention Robbie while we were walking home, but I doubted a grown man could be afraid of a tiny little thing like Robbie.

  “That looks more like one of those battery-operated toys for kids.”

  I laughed, and he picked up Robbie from the floor, earning a lick on his cheek. “Thanks, buddy. I really needed some love.”

  “Take a seat in the living room. I’ll be right back.”

  When I walked back with antiseptic wipes, Band-Aids and a bag of frozen peas, he was sitting on the couch, Robbie sprawled on his lap as David scratched his belly.

  “Apparently we don’t have an ice bag,” I said, as I handed him the bag of frozen peas. The bleeding had stopped but he was now sporting a shiner which would surely look a lot worse in the morning.

  David smiled as he took the bag, placed it on his left eye and winced. Robbie whined almost empathically, which under other circumstances would have made me laugh. Seeing David’s discomfort now only made me feel guilty for being the cause of it.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, as I sat next to him on the couch, careful to leave enough distance between us so that no limbs were touching, but still close enough to dress his wound. “I don’t know how I can apologize for what happened.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not you who punched me.”

  “I know but . . . it’s my fault that you got punched in the first place, and I’m really, truly sorry.”

  He gave me a crooked smile that made my legs turn to jelly. Good thing I was already seated or I would’ve made a fool of myself, crumbling to the floor. I concentrated on cleaning the cut with the antiseptic wipe, careful not to lock eyes with him.

  “It’s not your fault, Claire. The guy’s a gobshite and I couldn’t stand to see him hurting you. When he said those things, I just . . . I lost it completely.”

  He flexed his fingers, and I saw him trying to hide a wince but failing miserably. I hated to see him in pain, knowing it was because of me. As he removed the packet of peas from his eye for a moment and placed it on his hand, I could see the skin above his cheekbone had already started turning purple.

  “You’re going to have a black eye.” I felt so awful I wanted to fling myself at him and cry in his arms. The thought made me want to slap myself; after what I’d been through tonight I should feel shaken and scared of all men in general, but all I could think of was how much I wanted David to hold me. Seeing him stand up for me, when nobody ever had, only made me like him more. I was walking in a minefield, and sooner or later a bomb would blast right in my face, I was sure.

  David shrugged, then gave me a cheeky grin. “My students are going to think I’m cool. I’ll be the cool, kickass professor.”

  I laughed, as I placed the Band-Aid on the cut. “I doubt your colleagues will share the feeling. They’ll think you’re a troublemaker.”

  He shrugged again, and stared at me. “I look cool, though, don’t I? The bad-boy kind of cool, like Johnny Depp.”

  He quirked an eyebrow, and I wanted to melt right there. He was way more handsome than Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt and Hugh Jackman put together, but I obviously couldn’t say that. After all the bad memories that had come back to kick my butt tonight, how could I still have fantasies over a man? A man who had a girlfriend, for heaven’s sake—a girlfriend who’d probably dig my eyes out with her perfectly manicured nails when she found out why he had a black eye. Red flags flashed in front of my eyes.

  “Oh my God, Michelle’s going to kill me when she sees you!” Saying her name out lout made it all even more real, and it made my skin crawl.

  “Nah, don’t worry. She’s in London this week; by the time she gets back I’ll be okay.”

  His tone sounded a little casual, as if he couldn’t care less what Michelle would think or what she would say. Maybe their relationship was going through stormy weather? I hated myself for hoping things between them weren’t well, but she was so wrong for him. After the way she’d acted on Friday, and what he’d done tonight for me, I was even more convinced that he deserved better. David was a wonderful man—I mean, who would take a punch for a girl who’s not even his girlfriend?

  “So, I take it you know the lousy bastard?” He interrupted my thoughts, and I looked away, nodding in shame.

  “We . . . um . . . dated for a while.”

  “You dated that jerk?” His tone wasn’t accusing, only surprised, but it made me feel ashamed all the same.

  “It was shortly after I finished college. I was going through a rough time at home, and I was emotionally unstable so my mind was a little fogged—at least that’s what I kept telling myself afterwards, to excuse my foolishness.”

  “The rough time was because of that emergency you told me about?”

  Wow. He’d actually listened to me, and remembered what I’d said. That was quite impressive. Peter had hardly ever listened to me—but as tonight had proved, David wasn’t Peter.

  I nodded. “I was bartending in a pub, trying to keep my mind busy and make ends meet. He came in with his teammates after a match. When he stopped at the bar and flirted all night with me, I was flattered. He looked all bulky and strong, and considering the emotional mess I was in, I needed someone protective.”

  Robbie probably sensed my uneasiness because he lifted his head from his usual snoozing position, looked at me and jumped from David’s lap into mine. I rubbed his ear and was glad for the distraction.

  “Anyway, at the start he was ultra-charming. He was my first boyfriend and obviously when things seemed weird, I blamed it on my inexperience. I was twenty-two, but just as naïve as a teenager. I blamed myself every time he got mad for something I said or did because he’d always come back and say something that would excuse his behavior.”

  “Was he aggressive?” His whole body tensed, and he removed the bag of peas to look at me with both eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

  Okay, how much did I want to tell him? Well, considering we were nothing more than colleagues, I guessed telling him the whole story would be a little too much. But there was no point in hiding the obvious.

  “He hit me. Once. He was drunk and got mad about something, I don’t even remember what it was.” Liar. You do remember. Very well.

  David shot up and I gave a start, causing Robbie to sit up straight in my lap and bark. I patted the dog’s head for reassurance and he relaxed back into my lap.

  “Did you go to the police? Did you tell them what he did?”

  I couldn’t understand why he got all worked up; it was in the past, my past. Why did it matter so much to him anyway?

  I shook my head. “I didn’t want to create too much fuss. He was a local rugby player who was headed for a successful career; people in town loved him. I blamed it on the fact that he was drunk; I didn’t think he’d do it again. But I didn’t stay around to check for myself. I found the strength to break it off after that and never saw him again. Until tonight.”

  “There are absolutely no excuses for violence; a man should never dare raise a hand to a woman.” He plopped back onto the couch and put the bag of peas back on his eye. “If anyone ever put a finger on one of my sisters, God help him.”

  He was so sweet, and the realization of how much I wanted him to be mine stung like a hot coal poker. If only I’d met him while I was studying in Galway, I would’ve never let him go and Peter would’ve never come into my life.

  I opened my mouth to say something, even though a lump had formed in my throat, but the front door was yanked open, the handle hitting the wall, and Ciara rushed in.

  “How bad is it?” She came to David’s side and he removed the packet of peas. She let out a gasp.

  “That bad?” David asked with a grin. I couldn’t stop a smile from forming on my lips: he was definitely thinking about how cool his students would think he was.

  “That jerk. What did he want from you, anyway?” Ciara turned to me and I shrugged, finding comfort in stroking Robbie’s back as a distraction.

  “He was drunk. He didn’t take no for
an answer. And when David came to check on me, he said some nasty things—”

  “And I punched him,” David finished for me, showing Ciara his bruised knuckles. Ciara chuckled.

  “Damn, I would’ve loved to see it. I’m sure you were quite hot when you went all Rocky on him.”

  My jaw dropped. David’s brows shot up in surprise. Oh. My. God. This was so not happening.

  “Have you just called me hot, Ciara Fahey?” David smirked, and Ciara plopped down into the armchair next to the couch and grinned shamelessly.

  “Aw, come on. Every girl loves a man going all Schwarzenegger for her. If Aidan had done something like that for me, I would’ve been drooling all over him.”

  David laughed, a crisp, happy rumble that made my insides warm. “Well, I won’t tell your boyfriend you want to drool all over me; your secret’s safe with me.”

  Ciara rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to drool over you, O’Hagan. I was just saying that . . . aw, never mind.”

  David smiled, then looked at his watch and removed the bag of peas from his eye. “Well, I guess I’d better head home now. My eye’s starting to throb, so I’d better get some ibuprofen and go to bed.”

  He stood up, and I put Robbie on the couch before standing up too. He handed me the bag of frozen peas and when our fingers brushed, a shiver ran from the tip of my head to my toes. I blamed it on the cold bag I was holding, although I knew it wasn’t that at all.

  “Thanks for taking care of my warrior wounds.” He winked and my heart started a crazy jig in my chest. “And sorry for spoiling your peas. Guess you’ll have to rinse the bag and cook them tomorrow if you don’t want to have to throw them away.”

  “Don’t worry: She’s a great cook, she’ll come up with something,” Ciara said from her spot on the couch, Robbie sprawled on her lap, enjoying a belly rub.

  David looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re a nerd and a cook. Anything else I should know about you? Like maybe you keep sheep in the back garden and knit woolen sweaters in your spare time?”

  I shook my head and smiled. “No. Cooking is my only quirk.”

  “I wouldn’t consider that a quirk. I’m a big eater but can barely make scrambled eggs, so whoever can do better has my utter respect.”