“He can’t take that chance. And I can’t take the chance that he finds you.”
“B-but I haven’t done anything wrong,” she stammered. “I’ve only been in the States for six days. How can a person get in this much trouble in such a short time?”
Her eyes were big as saucers as she chewed nervously on her lower lip. They were both whispering because the children were finally asleep. James and Samuel were in the double bed and Sarah in the portable crib they’d managed to wedge in the corner.
“If there were any other way, believe me, I’d do it myself. But I can’t keep you safe, not feeling like this. If the bullet stays in much longer, I’m gonna get really sick and I won’t be able to protect you. I won’t be able to protect those babies.”
He read the uncertainty in her eyes and realized he was getting nowhere. It might take all night to convince her. Perhaps what she needed was a challenge. “If you’re gonna get all squeamish and faint on me, then—”
“No, no. It’s not that. It’s just…I don’t want to hurt you and I see no way around the fact that it’s going to hurt dreadfully.”
Dreadfully. Yeah. A far more civilized word than he would’ve chosen. It was gonna hurt like freakin’ hell. But there was no other choice. Fourteen hours and he still hadn’t reached Murphy or his commander. That fact alone had alarm signals crawling up his spine.
He had to get them out of here…the sooner the better, but he couldn’t drive any distance with a bullet in his butt. They were wasting valuable time. It had just gone dark. They should be making tracks instead of talking. “Let’s go,” he ordered. “Into the bathroom. We can turn on the water to cover our voices.” He tugged on her arm, leading her to the closet-size bathroom. “You got any Band Aids in that bag?”
She nodded and immediately went to work, digging through her travel case for supplies. Luke sighed and turned on the faucet. He’d have to sterilize his knife with hot tap water. If he didn’t get an infection out of this, it would be nothing short of a miracle. When he turned back, a small mountain of first-aid supplies was stacked on the counter. He blinked and shook his head in amazement. Jillian was prepared for war-zone triage.
“You always carry so much stuff?”
She raised startled eyes to his in the mirror. Her skin was so pale it made her eyes appear even bluer, like the sky just before a storm. “Well, with the children and everything, I thought it best to be well prepared. I bought one of each kind.” She blew out a nervous breath. “I’m ready.”
He smiled at her reflection in the mirror and watched her pull her hair back in a lopsided ponytail. The color wasn’t brown at all but a beautiful cinnamon. It was long and wavy and just a little bit wild. He’d bet the strands would slide like silk between his fingers.
“Okay, tell me what you want me to do.”
“All right. In the next minute or so, you’re gonna get to know me real well.” He paused when her gaze dropped and noticed the telltale pink flush flare across her cheekbones. He hadn’t thought it possible for a woman her age to blush. “Try not to be nervous. It’ll hurt, but I swear I won’t make a sound,” he promised.
“Oh, God.”
Impulsively he grabbed one of her hands. “Look, if you hesitate—if you go slow—it’ll hurt worse. I want you to make a crisscross cut over the hole about this big.” He drew on her palm while she listened intently, hanging on every word, and he felt a measure of her tension dissipate.
“It was a small-caliber bullet and it was shot from a pretty far distance. It can’t be in there very far…maybe an inch. Once you make the cut, I want you to take the edge of the blade and probe in there like this.” He pointed the blade down and gently touched her palm, careful not to press too deep. “The sooner you find it, the better.”
“What then? When I find it, I mean?”
She blanched again and her eyes carried a hunted look, as though she knew there was no way to escape. “As soon as you feel it, try to get the blade underneath and lever it out that way. If not, we’ll use those evil-looking tweezers you’ve got there.”
She jerked her hand from his and raised it to her mouth. “Ohmigod, Luke—I don’t know if I can…”
He reached out and gently pried her fingers from her lips, giving them a little squeeze. “You can do this. I know it.” He waited while she composed herself once again, watching as she took a shaky breath. “You need to wash your hands really well and then I’m gonna lean way over the counter and you’re gonna go to work. Okay?”
She swallowed convulsively and shook her hands, as though shaking the jitters out of her fingers. “Right. I’m ready.”
Luke took a deep breath and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Sweet Jesus, could this be any more awkward? A beautiful woman was about to carve up his butt in the shabby little bathroom of Jethro’s Rent-A-Shack. If the guys ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it.
He noticed that Jillian played it cool. She’d averted her eyes when he’d dropped his pants and bit her lip when he’d grunted and launched himself up onto the counter. At least he could keep his underwear on…what little was left of the blood-soaked cotton. He tried not to wince as she peeled them away from his right buttock. Once she was finished, he’d cut them off and burn them in the sink. Unfortunately he’d be forced to go commando for a day or so until it was safe to buy underwear.
“How’s it look back there?”
She stifled a chuckle. “How exactly do you mean? It’s a rather fine-looking butt, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”
Could this get any more embarrassing? He shook his head and tried not to watch her in the mirror. “What I mean is, how does the bullet hole look?”
“Don’t clench up. I’m just cleaning the area with alcohol.”
Right. She pours something freezing on his ass and she doesn’t want him to react? “Well?”
Jillian raised her gaze to meet his in the mirror. “It looks…angry.”
“Angry? What the he—” He took a deep breath, blew it out, and tried to remember that she was very nervous. “What does ‘angry’ mean?”
“It looks red and very tender and much smaller than I thought it would be, actually.”
“I’m lucky the shooter was so far away. Otherwise, you’d see a whole lot more damage back there.”
“You saw the person who shot you?”
He cocked one eyebrow. “He shot me in the ass, remember?” Her disgruntled sigh was clearly audible. Mary Poppins didn’t have much of a sense of humor. If anyone should be pissed about this turn of events, it should be him.
“I’m not a ninny. I meant, how do you know where the person was shooting from?”
Her voice floated up from down near the floor. “The building was caving in…I was running away from it…I just know.” In spite of himself, he tensed when she made the first incision. The area was throbbing so badly that it was almost a relief when she made the cut. He heard her take a deep breath before making the cross incision.
“Lord, it’s really bleeding now.”
Luke gritted his teeth and fought to school the pain. He tasted the sweat beading on his upper lip and experienced the faint, floaty feeling that came with shock. He tightened the muscles in his chest and arms as a countermeasure to the excruciating pain. If he focused on contracting those muscles, he could disassociate from the torture that was sure to come.
“Just swipe it and keep going. It’s gonna keep bleeding until you’re done.”
Jillian took a shaky breath at the pain she heard in his voice. Dear God, if she could only run away. She fought to keep her hands from trembling while sweat trickled down her back and into her jeans. He flinched when she slid the knife in like he’d shown her. She dug in again and heard him bite back a moan. Lord, she was hurting him badly.
On the third try, she felt rather than saw the bullet. She’d found it. Now, to get the blasted thing out. She said a quick prayer to her Maker. If only He’d get the bullet out…she’d never as
k for another thing. Just this one favor. Please, Lord.
Unfortunately, He must have been working miracles elsewhere because she came up empty-handed.
“You’re stopping?”
She startled at the sound of his voice and paused to stretch the cramped muscles in her back and legs. They were locked with tension. She made the mistake of glancing into the mirror. Dear Lord, his face was gray with agony. “No. I’m…I was…I needed a minute. I’ll try again.”
She would have bent immediately had he not grabbed her arm. She noticed then how large his hand was. His fingers gripped her entire forearm with relative ease as he tugged her up to his face.
“You’re doing fine. Don’t worry about me. It’ll be over soon. Just keep goin’.”
She blinked back tears as his magnetic eyes willed her to be calm. She took a deep breath and nodded. Luke was still in control. She could be, too. She could do this.
“Right.” She squatted again and said another prayer. This time she managed to get his knife under the bullet. She felt the tug of resistance as the bullet rebelled against the blade. This ordeal could be over if she didn’t panic. Her gaze still locked on the bullet hole, she reached up with her free hand and groped the countertop. She heard supplies scatter as her fingers wrapped around the tweezers and pulled them down. With one hand lifting the knife blade, she poked through the blood and dug the tweezers into the wound to grab the bullet.
Jillian felt his whole body jerk and then tighten and heard his stifled groan. Ignoring his pain, she blocked it out and concentrated on the sound of running water. Dammit, she had to finish this before she passed out. Or killed him. At last, the tweezers found the bullet. Not daring to release her sweaty grip, she yanked the metal slug out.
It was over.
“I’ve found the bloody thing.” She sagged to the floor, her thigh muscles screaming when they finally unclenched. Nearly light-headed with relief, she waited several seconds before staggering to her feet, her legs still rubbery when she tried to stand.
“Please tell me you got it.” His voice was tight with pain.
She loosened her grip on the tweezers and the bullet clanged on the Formica counter. “I’ve got to clean you up…down there. Then we’re through.”
“Thank God.”
It seemed like forever before the bleeding stopped. When it had slowed to a trickle, she swabbed the area again with alcohol, starting at Luke’s sudden indrawn breath. “Sorry about that. I should have warned you.”
When he didn’t respond, she made a makeshift bandage and taped it down with the neon Band Aids she’d picked up for the children. She managed a half smile and wondered what Agent Gianetti would think if he knew his butt would glow in the dark that night. She suspected he felt much worse than he was planning to let on. He’d been too quiet for the last few minutes. Lord knew she was ready to faint simply from performing the surgery.
“Can you move or are you too weak?”
“I—I’m fine. Once you finish, I…I need a minute to clean up. Just close the door behind you when you leave.”
Luke’s eyes were closed, his pale, clammy face resting on still-tense forearms, his body straddling the counter. His voice was muffled and miserable and she knew she couldn’t risk leaving him alone in the bathroom. He did not have the strength he pretended to have. Jillian eyed the blood-soaked underwear and made a quick decision. She grabbed the scissors and before she could change her mind, swiftly sliced up the sides of his underwear.
“What in the sweet hell are you doing?”
“Don’t move or you’ll show me far more than you intended.” She peeled the underwear off his well-developed and very clenched muscles and pretended not to notice how lean and hard he looked. Dear Lord, this was just his backside. Though she tried desperately not to, she couldn’t help but wonder about the rest of him. Forcibly discarding the images, she wet a washcloth with warm water and sponged the dried blood from his skin. Still averting her eyes, she snatched a towel from the rod near his head. Now that she’d stripped him, she was rapidly losing her nerve.
Without meeting his gaze, she wrapped the towel around him and tied it loosely at his waist. Then she dropped to the floor and tugged his jeans from his feet. “I’ll wash these in the sink. I can probably get most of the blood out so you’ll have something to wear later.”
With another washcloth she carefully rinsed his forehead and face with cool water. He startled when she scooped up his long, golden hair and washed the back of his neck.
“That feels good.”
His mumbled comment sounded faraway and sleepy. When she had done all that she could to make him more comfortable, she dug through the cosmetic bag again while he awkwardly lifted himself from the counter. He staggered a little and she ducked under his arm, forcing his weight onto her.
“Here. Take these before we go out to the bedroom.” She handed him three blue pills. It wouldn’t do much for the agony he must be experiencing, but it was all she had. His face was white with pain and his eyes grim as he scooped them up and brought them to his mouth.
“What the hell are these?”
Jillian felt her face flush with color again. “They’re…you know. They, uh, help with cramps…when I, um, have my monthly. I’m sure they’ll take the edge off.”
His eyes bleak, Luke swallowed them without comment. He must have felt terrible, because he didn’t even argue when she led him to the empty bed. She didn’t dare let go of him as she tugged the bedspread back and snatched the sheets apart. He was very woozy. He just didn’t want her to know it. He sat heavily, careful not to put any weight on his right side. She punched up a pillow and gently pushed him back against it. He collapsed onto the pillow and she helped him pull his legs up, pushing them under the covers.
As soon as he was safely in bed, she raced back to the bathroom for a glass of water and the washcloth. She soaked it in cold water and wrung it out before taking it back to Luke. He was still conscious, but just barely. She laid the cloth over his eyes and set the waterglass on the nightstand within his reach.
“Where’s my gun?”
“Right here. I’ll put it in the drawer.”
“No. Gotta have it.” His words were slurred, but they were still adamant.
“No. If James or Samuel wakes up and sees—”
“Okay. You’re right. Forgot ’bout…kids.”
She sighed with relief when he gave in, rolling over onto his side and finally shutting his eyes. A hot shower was next on the list. She was sticky with perspiration and still shaking from the whole ordeal. She stepped away from the bed but was startled again by the strength of his grip when Luke jerked her back to his side. She hadn’t even seen him move.
“Wha…what is it? Are you ill?”
His hand was warm where it stroked her wrist, his voice even warmer when he finally spoke. “Thanks for what you did. You’re all right, Lady Jillian.” His hand slowly dropped away and his breathing deepened. She listened for a moment, absently rubbing her arm where he’d held it before heading back to the overly bright bathroom.
Lady Jillian, indeed. Lady Jillian Moseby would’ve had the bloody vapors if she’d been asked to remove a bullet. From a man’s bum, no less. Agent Gianetti was lucky she’d left Lady Jillian back in Sussex. She was Jilly now. And out of sheer necessity, Jilly would have to learn to be ready for anything. Tonight had proven it. Three children. Good God, how would she do it?
She methodically scrubbed the countertop and put away her supplies. Try as she might, she couldn’t find the bullet she’d tossed on the counter. She gave up and began scrubbing Luke’s jeans. Once they were dry, the blood stain would barely be noticeable. She held his pants up to the light. The bullet hole was tiny. How could something so small inflict so much damage? She shuddered as she remembered her sister and what Annie had done with a gun in her hands.
Finally she stripped off her clothes and stood under the shower for a long time, letting the warm water sluice over her in an a
ttempt to wash away the horror of the past hour, of the whole day, actually. Dear Lord, it had been bloody awful. Ever since she’d arrived in the States, it had been one nightmare after another. She had absolutely no idea how to be a mother. What if she bodged it up? Three little lives were depending on her.
No one had ever depended on her to do anything. As far as parenting skills, she had none that she knew of. How would she ever live up to her promise to Annie? Jillian was beginning to wonder if she’d ever be anything other than too late. Too late for Annie. Nearly too late for the children…
The terror she’d experienced earlier when Luke had hijacked her car was nothing compared to removing that bullet. Tears sprang to her eyes when she remembered the pain in his eyes. She’d hurt him terribly. The sobs finally came and she allowed herself a good long cry before she methodically conditioned her hair and finally stepped out of the shower. It was nearly midnight. With any luck she could fall into bed for a few hours before Sarah woke her at three. At least that was what the baby had done the previous three nights. She could only assume it would happen every night.
Her eyes were pink when she examined them in the mirror. Her gym shorts and T-shirt would have to suffice for pajamas. It wouldn’t be worth the effort of dragging the suitcase in from the car. And where would she put it anyway? The room was ready to explode.
She rinsed out her blouse and brushed her teeth before leaving the claustrophobic bathroom. She left the door slightly open, allowing a crack of light to remain in case the boys got up during the night.
Luke’s bulky frame took up most of the bed but she was too tired to pretend she cared about modesty. Lady Jillian or not, there was no way she was sleeping on the floor, not after the day she’d had. And she’d already seen the man’s naked butt, for goodness’ sake. She shook her head and slipped between the sheets on the other side.
Here she was, across the Atlantic only six days now, and already in bed with an American stranger. She smothered a giggle as a vision of her mother floated in front of her eyes. Rosemary Moseby would still manage to look dignified and oh, so proper, even with her mouth hanging open and her eyes bugged out. She would be appalled. Her worst nightmare come true: her precious Jillian in bed with a man…and a bloody Yank to boot.
For Her Protection Page 3
