by Marnie Perry
And the rage he had felt towards those men was very real. He had taken one look at her struggling in that man’s arm’s and that bastard with his hands all over her, kissing her, assaulting her and saw red. It had been a long time since he had lost control like that. And there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that he would have shot the guy wielding the knife without a second thought if Jaws had not intervened. But she had certainly been shocked when he had reached for his gun and that had worried him and more so when she had accused him of overacting, his anger had been genuine then too.
Still, it had all turned out okay, more than okay; he had come to her rescue…again. That guy might have inadvertently done him a favour, he might have been the one who had kissed her for the first time but he, Hennessey, would show her what kissing was really all about, he would initiate her in the art of gentle yet passionate kissing, he would erase all memory of that drunken asshole’s assault. But if in anyway those bastards had spoilt his plans for her, if they had made her wary or scared of him, he would track them down and put a bullet in all three of them, and this time there would be no giant bruiser to stop him.
Hennessey, as honest as he was, with himself at least, did not let himself dwell on the reason why he had acted as he had at the club. Why that uncontrollable rage which was so alien to him had suddenly and inexplicably taken hold of him. Why he could have killed a man in defence of a woman. And why he had felt that rush of emotion that had overcome him when she had cried in his arms, the sudden overwhelming urge to comfort and protect her. He let his eyes stray towards the corsage he had given her and which she had bent to retrieve from the floor, now all tattered and broken, but which she gripped tightly in her hand as if to a lifeline.
If he had let himself dwell on all those things he would have shrugged his broad shoulders and told himself that he was a man after all, a man whose woman was being attacked by a lowlife punk who was doing what he had planned to do that very night, kiss her until she was breathless. Any man would have acted exactly as he had, well, all right, maybe not exactly as he had. And as for the comforting thing, well, his date had just been attacked and needed to feel safe and reassured by her man. If he had dwelt on it that’s what Hennessey would have told himself, and he would have made himself believe it.
The drive back was made in contemplative and, at least on Adela’s part, uncomfortable silence. But in next to no time they were back in Eden and Hennessey pulled up outside what he knew to be the doctor’s house.
He really didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to have to answer questions about what had happened, and he most certainly did not want that jerk Maxwell and that patronising sheriff giving him a hard time for not protecting her properly. He could just see Maxwell’s smug expression and feel the sheriff’s condescension.
But most of all he didn’t want her to tell anyone how he had dealt with the situation, which she probably would if they criticised him, she would believe she was defending him. They would think it odd that a man who killed bugs for a living had dealt with three men, albeit drunken men, not to mention the injuries he had inflicted on them. The sheriff would certainly make enquiries into what had happened and that would involve Carson and the club and Carson would not welcome that and neither would he. But not to take her to the doctor would look odd, as if he wasn’t concerned about her or her injuries.
She shifted in her seat and looked through the passenger window as he stopped the car, and asked, ‘why are we stopping here?’
‘This is where the doctor lives.’
To his intense relief she said, ‘oh no, no, Sterling I don’t need a doctor. I’m quite all right now.’
He hid his relief and made his tone firm, ‘but you need to see someone, that bump on your head might give you problems, and you need to get those scratches seen too.’
‘I have everything I need for that at the cabin. I have a headache but I don’t think I have a concussion or anything serious.’
He shook his head and feigned uncertainty, ‘I really think...
She cut him off, ‘please, Sterling, I’m all right, honestly. I just don’t want everyone in town knowing, and they will you know.’
He did know and inwardly thanked her dislike of being the subject of gossip.
‘I just want to go home,’ she said pleadingly.
He sighed as though contemplating then said, ‘all right, we’ll do it your way.’
‘Thank you.’
Oh no, Miss. Faraday he thought, thank you. He drove to the end of town and parked the car as near to her cabin as he could without actually driving into the woods. He opened the passenger door and helped her out then pulled the jacket tighter around her. He put his arm around her waist as they made the short walk to her cabin. He hoped and prayed they wouldn’t meet anyone, but it was late and most folks should be in bed fast asleep by now, but you never knew.
Luckily they met no one and no lights were on in any of the other cabins. Once at her cabin she fumbled in her bag for her key but the bag slipped from her fingers, he picked it up, found the key and opened the door. She turned to him as she always did at the end of their dates as if to say goodnight and he saw the surprise in her face when he pushed her gently over the threshold and followed her in.
Without preamble he said, ‘where’s your first aid kit?’
‘There’s no need for you to stay I can take care of…of everything.’
He walked towards the kitchen as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘go and change and put on a bathrobe or something.'
She knew there was no use arguing and quite honestly she didn’t want to. Her brain was working overtime. She wanted him to leave so that she could think about everything that had happened tonight, she wanted to go over it all and analyse it. Although she was excited and stimulated as she had never been she was also embarrassed and perplexed about what he had said. She was also ashamed by her own behaviour towards him and the things she’d said after he had injured those men. But at the same time she wanted him to stay, wanted him to continue taking care of her.
She said, ‘the first aid kit is in the cupboard under the sink.’
He went to get it when he looked round she was closing the bathroom door.
He began making her some tea intending to put plenty of sugar in it but couldn’t find any. He sat down at the kitchen counter and waited. He looked at his watch, ten minutes had passed and she still hadn’t come out so he got up and knocked on the bathroom door. She didn’t answer so he knocked again and called, ‘are you all right in there?’
No answer. He thrust open the door thinking that maybe she had passed out from the blow to the head or delayed shock. She hadn’t, but was just stepping out of her slip. She gasped and grabbing a towel backed up clutching it to her. But it did not cover her exposed scratched chest and her legs from the thighs down.
He held up his hand, ‘sorry, but when you didn’t answer my knock I thought maybe you’d passed out or something. I’m sorry.’
Sorry he might have been, but he made no effort to leave the bathroom or to look away from her semi nakedness.
She swallowed hard and stammered, ‘I…I didn’t hear you knock,' she looked towards the sink where the taps were running, 'I’ll be out in a moment.’
It was a dismissal but still he didn’t leave, just kept staring at her then his eyes travelled down her damp body, from her hair all in disarray now, to her feet then back again. When his eyes met hers he took a step towards her then stopped and suddenly turned and swiftly left the room closing the door behind him, leaving her standing there staring at the closed door feeling completely naked despite the towel.
She slipped on her dressing gown, feeling very under dressed wearing just her undies and the robe. The dressing gown was blue and made of chiffon and lined so although not see through was certainly not one of those thick terry robes you found in hotels. She wanted to put on her sweatshirt and leggings, but they were in the living room as were her other clothes. Besides, he had said t
o put on her dressing gown, and she wouldn't put it past him to fetch it himself if she disobeyed him and put her dress back on.
She took a deep breath and opened the door. He was sitting on the sofa with the first aid kit open on the coffee table in front of him and looked up as she and stepped out of the bathroom. He said nothing at first just looked at her; her hand instinctively went to her chest and clutched the material of the dressing gown. He patted the seat next to him and said, ‘come and sit down.’
She walked very slowly towards the living area and even more slowly sat down, leaving a gap of at least two feet between them which he immediately covered so that their thighs were touching. Even this small contact gave her goose bumps and she wanted to retreat but thought that might appear rude and in any case he would only advance and they couldn’t keep doing that they’d both end up on the floor. She shivered as a image of them both lying on the floor came to her.
He saw the shiver and said, ‘don’t you have anything a little warmer than that flimsy thing?’
Her face was pink as she clutched the dressing gown even tighter around her throat so that he thought she might cut off the blood supply to her face. He quashed the chuckle he felt rising in his throat. She said, ‘er, no. Shall I go and put a sweatshirt on?’ She half rose but he put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently back down, ‘no, I like what you’re wearing, I was just thinking of your being warm enough.’
The pink in her face turned to red as he expected it would.
He picked up the antiseptic solution and soaked the cotton wool with the solution then turned to her. She stared at his hand for a moment then when he made no move towards her she raised her eyes to his. He said, ‘I’m no doctor but I think it would help if I could actually see the wounds I’m about to treat.’
She looked puzzled then as realisation dawned rather reluctantly lowered her hands. He raised his eyebrows then looked down at what little he could see of her chest and said, ‘look, I know you’re thinking, about what I said earlier, but I promise I won’t take advantage of the situation, I can control myself. I don’t make the same mistake twice.’
She raised shocked eyes to his and her face was as red as the setting sun. She gulped in her throat before very slowly letting go of the gown and lowering both her eyes and her hands which she kept grasped tightly in her lap.
He fought very hard not to laugh outright at her very obvious modesty, she acted like a puritan maiden, he didn’t know about the puritan part but she was definitely a maiden.
He applied the solution to her skin very gently but she still flinched. He said, ‘sorry, I know it stings, but it will help with the pain as well as any infection.’
‘It’s all right; it’s not that, it’s just cold.’
He smiled and continued with his administrations. She dared a look at his face and noticed his jaw clenched tightly as he concentrated and knew he was thinking about how she had come by her injuries. She liked him still further for his concern and then felt worse about what she had said to him about his overly violent methods. She wanted to apologise again but somehow found it difficult to speak right now.
But now that she was home and safe she began to wonder about that, about how he could have put down three men all by himself. Okay, they were drunk, but still, three men, big men at that, and the one who had kissed her he had lifted off the floor and held him there as though he weighed next to nothing. And his face when he had looked at her, it was as though she was a stranger trying to intervene in something personal. Never had she seen such fury, such deadly purpose.
And yet after he realised who she was he had done as she had asked and let the man go.
Still it had taken some time for him to calm down and the cold, almost demoniacal expression to leave his face. Then there was that presence he had, that commanding presence, a certain way he had that demanded respect and attention. The way he had spoken to Jaws, that great huge man had been almost subservient. She was more and more getting the impression that Sterling Hennessey was much more than a bug terminator.
Of course he had been a marine, and they she knew, were very tough, sometimes deadly. He must have been trained to take men down, maybe even three men at once. But still, he was a human being and must have been shaken up by what had happened and all she had done was criticise him for his behaviour.
She abruptly ceased her train of thought when he began to lower her dressing gown still further; she gasped and raised her hands to stop him.
He said, ‘you have scratches right down your chest I have to get those cleaned too, God knows what might have been under that bas…guy’s nails.’
She hesitated, but then saw the sense of it and lowered her hands again but sat rigid and numb while he lowered her gown almost to her nipples. Numb that is until he began to press the cotton wool against her breasts and she gave a small whimper and closed her eyes as the heat surged through her body. He said, ‘still cold?’
She opened her eyes, ‘sorry?’
He nodded at the cotton wool ball he held. She said, ‘oh, oh no,’ then realised he had heard her whimper and quickly corrected herself, ‘well, yes, a little.’
He bent his head and smiled, he couldn’t help it, she was so easy to read and even if she wasn’t he couldn’t help but notice the goose bumps on her chest and neck and her dilated pupils, oh yes, easy to read and easy to excite. He said, ‘nearly done.’
‘Okay,’ her voice was a mere whisper.
‘What about your dress, can it be saved?’ While he was saying this he was recalling that even in the midst of his anger at those men he couldn’t help but notice that when the man had his hand up her dress he caught a glimpse of stocking. Stockings? What kind of woman wore stockings these days? Whores did of course, but that was different, and this woman was certainly no whore, on the contrary. But the thought of those sheer, silky stockings sent his pulses racing.
She thought how thoughtful he was to be concerned about her dress. ‘I don’t know, perhaps, but even if it was I don’t think I would wear it again.’
He glanced up at her then looked back down and finished what he was doing then put the solution back in the first aid kit whilst saying, ‘it was a very pretty dress but I can understand your feelings. ’ He looked up and into her eyes before adding, ‘but you looked beautiful tonight, and not because of the dress.’
She met his unwavering gaze for a moment before looking away in confusion and mumbled something which included the word silly. He grinned and tossed the cotton wool ball onto the coffee table, took another which he again doused with solution then said, ‘open your mouth.’
Her eyes widened and her voice was high pitched as she stammered, ‘wh...what?’
‘Your lips aren’t cut but there was blood on your mouth earlier, it must be a cut inside.’
‘Oh, I see, but I can do that.’
‘I’m sure you can but I’ll be able to see better, so open up and no arguments.’
She obeyed and he moved closer to her, she backed up and he said wryly, ‘’if you’d rather lie down while I do this that’s okay.’ He moved closer and this time she didn’t back up. He put a finger on her lower lip and pulled it down; again she saw his jaw tighten as he saw the cut on the soft flesh of her lower gum where the guy had bitten her. He applied the solution and she grimaced. He said gently, ‘almost done.’
She closed her eyes unable any longer to look at his face and afraid that he would see in her eyes what the touch of his fingers on her lips was doing to her.
He stood up, ‘I’ll put this away and make you some tea.’
‘I can do that,’ she stood up but he pushed her gently but firmly back down saying, ‘oh no you don’t, it’s not very often I get to take care of a woman,’ he grinned devilishly, ‘nor to play doctor either, so humour me okay.’
She smiled, ‘okay, consider yourself humoured.’
He laughed and went into the kitchen to put away the first aid kit and switch the kettle on. While he wa
s gone she pulled the dressing gown around her and tightened the belt across her middle. His applying antiseptic to her injuries reminded her of Olivia and how she had done the same thing for her. She had been shocked and frightened when the man had pinned her against the wall and assaulted her. She wondered how Olivia had endured that and much, much worse over and over again. Adela shuddered at the thought.
He came back to her saw the tremble and said, ‘I’ll get you a blanket,’ he handed her some painkillers and a glass of water, ‘but first take these it will ease the headache and help you to sleep better.’
She thanked him and took the pills swallowing them down with the water.
He went over to the bedroom area and took a small blanket that was thrown over the foot of the bed. He wrapped it around her shoulders then sat next to her. She said, ‘thank you very much for taking care of me.’
Frowning he asked, ‘how do you feel?’
‘Oh, I’m all right, honestly, I’ve had much worse, psychically anyway. It was just the shock of…of everything.’
He nodded, ‘I know, first me being an asshole and then those jerks, no wonder you’re feeling uneasy and on edge.’
She didn’t tell him she was feeling uneasy and on edge because of what he’d told her and because of his closeness, but she suspected he already knew that.
She managed a wry smile, ‘you’re not an, er, you know. But it’s certainly been quite an evening.’
He laughed but her face was very serious as she said, ‘I am sorry for the things I said to you, it’s no excuse I know, but seeing those men lying there, it was,’ she stopped and shook her head.
He finished for her, ‘horrible?’
She nodded, ‘yes.’
‘There’s no need to apologise for your reaction to what happened, it was perfectly understandable under the circumstances. It’s I who should apologise to you for acting like a jerk and snapping at you.’
She looked at him gratefully, ‘you weren’t a jerk either, you saved me from that odious man, I’ll never forget that.’ Her smile was shaky as she added, ‘I seem to be thanking you an awful lot, first the horrible trucker, then the panther, and now those drunken men, but at the risk of repeating myself, thank you again.’
