Charming Jane_A Reverse Harem Romance

by Kristin Coley

  “Why would you hit the reporter?” I whispered, trying not to move my swollen mouth more than I had to.

  “To protect you. The bloody bastards are like carrion birds, scavenging at the merest hint of blood.” The iciness in Ian’s voice caught me by surprise, and I said the first thing that came to mind.

  “But you saved me.”

  Michael flashed a surprised glance at me, his expression turning appreciative at my observation.

  “But be that as it may, a headline which hints at violence and dirty deeds will sell more, and I’d like to prevent you from being dragged into the mud with it.” Ian was resolute, surprising me further, as the one I’d believed to be the more lighthearted of the two showed me his stubborn side.

  Michael stood in front of the door, blocking the entrance even as the man shouted questions and tried to take pictures. The door finally slid shut, leaving us in peace.

  I found myself slumped against Ian, and he bore my weight with no complaint, keeping an arm around me.

  “Why am I so exhausted?”

  “Fighting for your life will do that to you. It’s the adrenaline rush. Once you no longer need it, it disappears, leaving you weaker than when you started. It’s your body’s way of giving you every advantage in a fight.”

  “Definitely have to remember to pick off my enemies after a fight then.”

  A low chuckle surrounded me.

  “I do like the way you think.” His arm was a little tighter around me then, and I let it be, feeling too tired and safe to step away.

  The elevator stopped, its doors opening, and I gave them an anxious look.

  “No worries, this is our stop.”

  The doors opened directly into a luxurious suite, and I glanced back at the elevator and then into the room.

  “Penthouse suite. The elevator opens directly into our suite,” Ian answered, seeing my confusion.

  “If you’ve got her, I’m going to go do cleanup.” Michael stepped back into the elevator. “See if I can find the reporter and destroy the pictures, if not, make a few calls. I’d like to avoid having this show up on the news.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll get her warm and dry. We’ll go from there,” Ian answered, and I felt as if I should contribute to the conversation, tell them I was fine, but I couldn’t. My body felt heavy, and I didn’t trust myself to make it five feet, much less go anywhere else. The idea of being clean and dry held me captive faster than anything they’d said or done.

  “Come on. Let’s get you taken care of,” Ian whispered as I glanced back to see the elevator doors close on Michael’s curious expression. Ian pulled me inside and set me on a couch. The suite was enormous, and it might have seemed that way because I was used to hostels and tents, but I didn’t think so. This room alone was triple the size of any I’d stayed in before, and I didn’t even see a bed. Ian had sat me down on a couch facing a wall of windows overlooking Jackson Square. Even with the low clouds and generally dreary day, the view was magnificent.

  I couldn’t deny the city’s beauty. There was an old-world elegance to New Orleans, and the room I was in reflected it. The walls were exposed brick, the floors a wide dark plank, with an armoire tucked in one corner. I suspected the windows were original, and there were French doors that led to a wrought-iron balcony.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “It is,” he sounded surprised and at my glance he elaborate, “We’ve been staying here so long I forget how beautiful it is. It is one of my favorite places.” He kneeled down in front of me, his hand resting against my calf, and the heat of his palm penetrated through the thin material of my skirt as he gazed up at me. “Would you like a bath? It should help with your muscles. I have a feeling they’ll be quite sore tomorrow.”

  I sat there for a minute, deliberating. The idea of lying down on the sofa beckoned me, its soft comfort a haven, but at the same time, I didn’t want to get blood on it, and the idea of soaking in a hot tub was appealing. A smile hovered on his lips as he awaited my decision.

  “Bath,” I finally said with a decisive nod, abandoning my fears that they would hurt me. I had few options and so far, they’d shown me nothing but kindness.

  “Okay, you stay here, and I’ll run the water.” He was gone before I could protest, so I leaned back against the couch, and stared out the window at the rainy city. A few minutes later, he was back, easing me up and guiding me to the bathroom. The tub was a deep claw foot, steam wafting from a pile of bubbles.

  “They give me all these different products, so I figured I’d use the bubble bath, for once.” He peeked at me from lowered lashes, and I smiled, a stupid warmth forming in my chest.

  “Okay.” He looked a bit awkward, his hands by his side as he looked around. “Do you need any assistance …?” He gestured to my body. “Undressing?”

  I shook my head. I was capable of removing my own clothing.

  “Right then. I’ll go out here.” He pointed to the room. “If you need me, shout. I’ll come running, and I promise to keep my eyes closed.”

  “Are your fingers crossed?” I asked, bemused as I caught sight of them in the reflection from the mirror.

  “Of course not!” he protested, before catching sight of where I was looking. He uncrossed them and looked back at me. “Scout’s honor, love. No peeking.” He raised both of his hands to my amusement, and I pointed at the door. He nodded. “Right. On my way.”

  He pulled the door shut behind him, and I carefully peeled off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. They had blood on them and other things I wasn’t entirely sure about and didn’t care to think about.

  Lowering myself into the tub was a painful process. My toes felt frozen solid, causing the hot water to burn, and the aches in my body caused any movement to become painful. The scent of lavender rose from the water as I sank deeper into it, and I wondered if he’d chosen it to help me relax, or if it had been the only option available.

  I shook my head at myself. It wouldn’t serve me to underestimate him or his brother. They’d shown me extraordinary kindness, but there was something about them that gave me pause. Ian had reacted violently to the man who’d attacked me, almost out of control. Add in the fact that they called someone to clean up their mess…. My mess, I corrected myself, cringing. I might be safe now, but they were possibly dangerous and I’d be smart to tread carefully.

  Their actions surprised me, I admitted to myself, tucking back a stray tendril of hair that had fallen. Ian had come across as a flirty player, but he’d shown himself to be aggressively determined to protect me. Now, I was seeing a different side of him as he tried to take care of me. Michael was still an enigma, as I remembered him carefully holding me as Ian fought my attacker, but quickly passing me off to his brother.

  I remained in the tub, soaking, as I noted the multitude of bruises beginning to form, and winced as the soap caused the cut on my lip to burn. There was a slight cut on one of my knuckles, the only sign I’d even attempted to fight back. I’d never been forced to defend myself, having taken the random self-defense class only because my mother or a friend wanted to go, but had never really thought I might need to use what I’d learned to protect myself.

  Today, I’d had to, and realized just how defenseless I truly was. The thought shook me, the realization that my body was weak, and I was about as scary as a kitten. What little I’d done to fight back hadn’t fazed him, and anger bubbled at the thought. I had wanted to hurt the guy, punish him, and even as the violence in my thoughts disturbed me slightly, it didn’t change them. I hadn’t known I was capable of such destructive emotions, but they also made me want to learn more; to be truly able to defend myself in an attack.

  I wasn’t kidding myself. I knew I could only do so much if I was attacked, but I would do anything to get rid of this helpless feeling that had taken root inside of me. Luck had been on my side today. If Ian and Michael hadn’t shown up, I wasn’t sure where I’d be or what would have happened to me, but either way, next
time I might not be so lucky.

  I was grateful they’d had shown up when they had, but it did occur to me to wonder where they’d come from and how they’d known. The moments after the attack were a blur.

  I didn’t even remember going to their car.

  I sat up suddenly, the water in the tub slopping over the sides as I realized I didn’t know precisely where I was or where my phone and purse were, and that I should have called the police.

  “Jane love, are you alright?” Ian’s voice came through the door, along with a light knock. “You haven’t drowned, have you? Because that headline might upset Michael a tad.”

  His words caused me to laugh, easing some of my anxiety, and I had to catch my breath before I could reply.

  “Well, considering the laughter, I take that to mean you’re still alive,” Ian grumbled, sounding right next to the door.

  “Yes, I am. Do you happen to have my purse? And my phone? And, where are we?”

  “I have your things. We brought them in the car with us. They’re on the sofer in here. We’re at Bourbon Orleans hotel.”

  “What’s a sofer?” I asked, my mind caught on the unfamiliar word.

  “Sofer, sofa,” he enunciated, his British accent rolling the ending a into an er sound.

  “Oh, okay. I don’t even know where that is … the hotel I mean. Thank you for getting my things.”

  “Okay, do you want me to bring them to you, or will you be coming out?”

  “Are you trying to sneak a peek at me?” I accused him, seriously doubting it. I was the epitome of average. “There are a lot of bubbles still. You wouldn’t see a thing.”

  A low laugh came through the door.

  “Is that an invitation then?”

  “No!” I squeaked, and he laughed harder. I didn’t like to think I was a prude, but I’d grown up with exceptionally conservative parents. I had spent my entire childhood in long skirts and shirts that covered every inch of skin. The idea of Ian coming in to the bathroom while I was covered only in water and bubbles made my heart race unexpectedly, and not entirely in a bad way.

  “I’ll come out.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  The idea sent an unexpected thrill through me. The bath had revived me somewhat; thankfully, since I knew I’d need all of my wits about me with Ian. His next words proved it.

  “There’s a robe hanging on the door, if you’d rather not put your clothes back on.”

  I leaned my head back over the edge of the tub, catching a glimpse of a fluffy robe.

  “Thank you, Ian.”

  My words had a hint of dismissal in them, and he took it, the floor creaking as he stepped away. I closed my eyes for a moment, wondering at what point I’d become Alice and found myself down a rabbit hole.

  Chapter Two

  After a few more minutes of soaking in the tub, I pushed myself out, my fingers and toes beginning to look like prunes. The water sloughed off me as I stood there, and I reached for the chain that released the plug, so the water would drain. I leaned over to grab a towel and felt my entire body protest. The warm water had helped me feel more human again, but I was still in for a bit of soreness. At least my lip had stopped bleeding.

  I toweled myself off, and then wrapped the towel around me. A hairbrush was lying on the counter, and the thought of brushing my hair was soothing. I normally kept the heavy length in a bun, but the day’s adventures had made a mess of it. The pressure from the pins wasn’t helping the tension in my head either. I tugged the pins out, releasing my hair and massaging my scalp before pulling the brush through the long strands. As I tugged through the knots, the pain made me flinch, but I managed to get my hair smooth. I considered putting my hair back up, but it felt so wonderful to not have it bound that I decided against it. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with them seeing my hair.

  I finally forced myself to look at my face. Considering how it felt, it didn’t look nearly as bad as I thought it would. My lower lip was puffed out, the cut on it bright red, and I could see the shadow of a bruise forming across my cheek. I imagined both would be worse in the morning, but for now, it was proof I’d survived.

  I looked down at the clothes on the floor, and the idea of putting them back onto my now clean body was repulsive. I reconsidered the robe hanging on the door. It was large and fluffy, more than capable of covering all of me, but there was something so intimate about walking around in nothing but a robe, especially around men like Ian and Michael.

  I paused at the thought, uncomfortable with the realization that I found both of them attractive. Normally, Michael’s dark good looks would be my preference over Ian’s more boyish charm, but now I found them both appealing, and it left me uneasy. I wasn’t used to feeling this way about one guy, much less two. I owed them both a great deal, and knew there could never be anything between us. As much as I wished to soak up the attention of men like them, I knew it would only be temporary. Neither was a man who would stay with any woman for long, especially a plain Jane like me.

  I shook my head at my own foolishness. The idea of either one of them being romantically interested in a woman like me was ridiculous. I seriously doubted they’d thought of me as anything more than a damsel in distress, and that was where the solicitous attention was coming from. I knew instinctively the idea of being a knight in shining armor would appeal to a man like Ian. He was the type to live in the moment, casually flirting with every woman he met, and while I didn’t doubt he could form an attachment, it would take more than an afternoon with someone. I resolved to thank them both for their attentive care and to quit spinning daydreams. I had bigger problems to solve.

  I tugged the robe on defiantly, giving myself one last look in the mirror. What little makeup I’d worn was long gone, leaving me grateful that, for once, my skin was clear of blemishes. I may not be a stunning beauty, but what little vanity I had didn’t want me to appear ugly in front of Ian. Or Michael, a naughty voice whispered.

  I pulled the door open, padding out on bare feet. Ian jumped up from the sofa where he’d been sitting, giving me an indecipherable look.

  “Feeling a bit better then?”

  I nodded, tugging the lapels of the robe closer together as he observed me. He gestured to the sofa, so I walked over, settling in one corner before noticing the glass of water and aspirin on the low table in front of it. The corner of my mouth tilted up, deepening the dimple in my cheek as I reached for the medicine. A quick glance out of the corner of my eye revealed a bashful look on his face.

  “Thank you.” I held up my palm, cradling the pills as if they were priceless, and they were to my aching body. I didn’t stop to question if the pills were anything but aspirin, deciding to trust him. I tossed them back, swallowing them with the water, before proceeding to gulp the rest of the water down, inexplicably thirsty.

  “I’ll get you some more.” He held out his hand for the glass I held, so I gave it to him, watching him refill it. I sipped it more slowly this time, the cool glass feeling good against my lip.

  “I have some ointment for your lip and your knuckle.” He showed me a little tube of antibiotic ointment, and I nodded. He scooted closer to me, reaching for my hand. He laid it in his, gently rubbing the salve into my cut. I pushed my tongue against my lip, feeling the puffiness of it. The movement drew his eyes, and he stared at my mouth, his thumb still stroking my knuckles gingerly. He shook himself, looking back down and squeezing more of the ointment on his finger.

  “This might sting a tad, love.” His voice roughened as he brought his finger to my lip, but his touch was light as a feather as he spread the salve onto my cut lip. His other hand cradled my face as he brushed his finger over my lip. I watched him, his lidded eyes heavy as he studied my mouth. He turned my face slightly, and ever so lightly leaned forward, placing the softest of kisses at the corner of my mouth.

  “And a kiss to make it all better.”

  The rumble of his voice was thickened by his accent, and the ti
ngle from the press of his lips had my eyes closing involuntarily as I swayed toward him. We held the position for a moment longer, before I felt a gentle push as he shoved himself up.

  “Thank you. Again,” I told him breathlessly, everything I’d told myself in the bathroom gone with a single kiss. He shook his head at my appreciation, fiddling with the cap to the ointment before screwing it on and spinning away.

  A ding broke the awkwardness we suddenly found ourselves in, and I was grateful for the interruption as the elevator door slid o pen.

  “Michael! About time you showed up.”

  “You should be thanking me. I was able to persuade our reporter to delete the picture on his camera with the understanding I would give him a better story another time.”

  Michael stepped into the room then and with laser like focus took in my position on the sofa wearing only a robe.

  With a smirk he said, “Ian, your speed in getting women to remove their clothing impresses even me.”

  “She took a bath. Get your mind out of the gutter. She didn’t want to put the bloody clothes back on.” He waved a hand at his brother, glaring at him impatiently. “So, there will be no story to get back to Father?”

  “Correct. At least until the next time you do something salacious, which will not be long, I’m sure.”

  “Your faith in me knows no bounds.” Ian frowned, his brows lowered in what I could only assume was worry.

  “I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused you. I’ll be happy to tell your father what really happened. I’m sure he’d be very proud of you. Your kindness to me has been overwhelming.” Michael paused as he rummaged through the minibar to glance at me, and Ian came to sit down next to me, patting my shoulder.

  “Don’t concern yourself. It’s my fault the reporters follow us around. I’m usually the one to give them a good story. We appreciate the thought, but our father would not believe you. He firmly believes I am quite irredeemable.”

  “He’s wrong.” I held his gaze steadily, already knowing a heart of gold laid under his playboy attitude. He finally looked away, and I shifted my eyes to Michael.