“Oh, that’s not a curse word, love. It’s just our way of emphasizing. You should try it. Repeat after me.... My parents are bloody idiots. You’ll find it quite satisfying, I promise.”
My mouth dropped open at his reply, but I couldn’t deny a tiny desire to do as he said. They were bloody idiots!
“Come now. You know you want to. Break out of that shell. You’re halfway there already, sitting here in your unmentionables chatting with us. Once we get a British accent on you it’ll be complete. You’ll be one of us.”
I smacked his arm as I said, “You’re the bloody idiot.”
They laughed and Ian replied, “You’ll do just fine.”
“I do believe we promised you clothing.” Michael commented after they stopped laughing. “Ian can take you tomorrow to purchase a new wardrobe, but for this evening perhaps something of ours will do. So you may discard the robe.”
I nodded, ready to put on clothes. The robe was modest, but still felt intimate, especially with Ian around. He’d been a gentleman, but clothing felt like necessary armor around him.
“I’ll go poke around my closet. Anything of yours, Michael, would swallow her whole.” Ian stood up at the same time as Michael, highlighting the differences in their height. Michael was about three inches taller than Ian, and Ian had at least six inches on me. He was right, anything of Michael’s would be much too big.
Michael nodded and settled back down in the space Ian had vacated.
As Ian went to one of the doors I’d noticed earlier, I decided it would be wise to mention what I considered acceptable to wear, especially around him.
“Something modest, Ian.”
He turned back with an exasperated expression as I continued, “Long, nothing short.”
“Your diabolical plan is working, Michael. She’s already ruining my fun.”
He opened the door to reveal a bedroom. They were staying in a suite then, and I took a moment to consider the evening’s sleeping arrangements. I saw only two doors, one to Ian’s bedroom which meant the other door led to Michael’s room. That left me - where I wasn’t sure, the couch perhaps? Michael interrupted my thoughts as he said, “You’re good for him.”
“Am I?” I was startled by the thought, seeing as we’d only met a few hours ago. It seemed premature to think I’d had any effect on him, besides that of a nuisance.
“You cannot see what I can. He is considerate of you, protective. Things I have not seen from him in years. Especially not with a woman. Ian used to love women, believing they were the greatest creatures on earth. He adored them.”
“And that’s different? He flirted with the waitress and took care of me. How is that not an example of his love for women?”
“Yes, he flirted with the waitress and then you, the difference was when he insisted on paying for your lunch. He didn’t expect anything in return, and that is unusual for him. Then when you needed help he raced to your rescue. An action I never would have expected from him in recent years.”
“What changed him?” I had a feeling that was the important point in our discussion.
“I don’t know.” He appeared upset at the admission, and I patted his arm. He gave me a faint smile, a long-held sorrow in his eyes. “Ian is four years younger than I. He was the most charming child. Light hearted and fun. Everyone found him irresistible, and we were always close. Our parents…” He paused, taking a deep breath. “They were indifferent. Still are. He always wanted their attention, and I admit so did I. We just had different ways of going about it. I worked to please them and he just wanted attention, no matter how he got it. He was fourteen when I left for university and without my presence his existence was lonelier than ever. He did everything he could to garner their attention. Fights, drinking, and mouthing off. Any attention was better than none.”
I nodded, seeing it. My parents had always smothered me with attention as their only child. On occasion, it had felt like I would suffocate, but the moment their attention stopped, I felt like I’d lost my rudder. When they’d shuffled me off to stay with my godfather, essentially ignoring me for their own purposes, I’d felt betrayed and lost. I couldn’t imagine growing up that way.
“He was still Ian though. Nothing he did was so terrible or unforgiveable. He could charm anyone, except our parents. They felt he reflected poorly on the family name. They could never understand why he did what he did.”
“But something happened?”
“Yes, when he was nineteen. I have no idea what, but the brother I loved disappeared then. He became dark, violent, and angry. Using and discarding women, getting arrested, and thrown out of university.”
He stared at me searchingly.
“Until today. Today, I saw the brother I thought was lost. When he’s with you I see the man that loved women, the man who believed they should be cared for, and I don’t want to lose him again.”
His words were vaguely desperate and only served to intimidate me. I had no idea what it was about me that had brought this behavior out in his brother, and was afraid it had nothing to do with me which would cause Michael to be disappointed when Ian reverted.
“I don’t see how I could be the catalyst for his behavior. Maybe something else happened?” I was drawing at straws, and taking a risk Michael would decide my presence was unnecessary, but I couldn’t believe I was the reason.
“No, there was nothing else. You are the reason. I can see it even now. As he speaks to you, cares for you, it’s obvious to me.” He rested his hand on mine. “I don’t mean to put pressure on you or make you feel uncomfortable. I just ask that you stay. Spend time with my brother, be yourself. That’s all.” His intent gaze should have made me uncomfortable, but had the opposite effect of relaxing me. His words were sincere and I could easily read his love for his brother on his face. Both disarmed my objections, and I noted he was equally charming as his brother. They had completely different methods of getting what they wanted, but both were successful in their efforts.
The sound of Ian’s return had Michael removing his hand as he stood. His touch had been warm and familiar, but didn’t cause the butterflies I felt when Ian only accidently brushed against me. Ian held up two scraps of clothing which didn’t look large enough to fit me much less him.
“Here we are, love.” A light toss and the clothing landed in my lap. I held up a tank top and boxer shorts. My lips pursed as I tilted my head.
“I think not. Next.”
A half smile pulled up one corner of his full lips, and he preceded to toss the other clothing he had held behind his back toward me.
“Give a bloke his fun. You could at least model them. I’m sure they covered all the necessary bits.” I rolled my eyes at him as I headed to the bathroom to change.
***
I watched her move to the bathroom, noting even in the shapeless robe the sway of her hips. As the door closed behind her I noticed Michael staring at me curiously.
“You’re taken with her.”
It wasn’t a question, so I ignored his words, unwilling to admit how thoroughly she’d captured my attention. When I’d first seen her in the restaurant, her despair had called to me, but I’d managed to soothe my conscious by paying for her lunch and then leaving. Her later screams though had shredded me. Her fierceness when she’d fought had lit an unexpected pride inside of me. She was a little warrior and I couldn’t abandon her there.
“You got the name of her godfather?” I asked instead, knowing he would have. That was Michael’s way. To gather the details and plot. I was more the quick to react sort, which had not always stood me in good stead. Michael had cleaned up more than one of my messes because of it.
“Of course, I’ll find out everything about him in short order.”
“Good.” My frown was ferocious as I stared at the door Jane was behind. “You’ll let me know when we go.” I wasn’t asking and he understood as he gave me a short nod.
“You surprise me. The brother I know would have stormed out i
n the midst of that telling to beat the living hell out of her godfather. You showed restraint.”
Michael’s admiration caused the faintest hint of a pleased smile to cross my face. He was correct. If it hadn’t been for Jane’s obvious discomfort, and the hint of shame I’d sensed during the telling of her ordeal I might very well have left to beat the man, perhaps to death. But she’d needed me, and that knowledge was enough to hold me back.
“Simply beating him won’t be enough.” I warned Michael and he nodded.
“No, we’ll destroy every aspect of his life. Make no mistake, he will pay for hurting her.”
I nodded, reassured that he would be methodical in his destruction.
“Her parents?” I wasn’t sure if Michael would go so far, but I needed to know.
“I will investigate them thoroughly. From her words, I anticipate they will be innocent of any intentional wrongdoing, just foolishly naïve.”
It was the best I would get from Michael, I knew, and it would have to be enough. My desire to hurt her parents for leaving her defenseless was strong, but I didn’t want to cause her further pain and her love for her parents was apparent.
My reluctant nod seemed to satisfy Michael though his next words served as a warning.
“She is under our protection. I will not see her suffer from your callousness.”
The words stung, but were expected. I wanted to protest that I wouldn’t treat Jane as I had other women, but knew the words would be meaningless. I’d shown with my actions how I felt about women over the past few years and his warning was understandable. I would have to prove to him that Jane was different. Why she was different I’d yet to figure out, but I wouldn’t see harm come to her, not even from myself.
I tilted my head in acknowledgement.
“I have to say these are comfortable. A little big, but much better than the robe.” Jane shuffled from the bathroom, the hem of my pajama pants dragging. It appeared she’d rolled the waistband, but there were still a couple of inches at the bottom. She was also wearing one of my undershirts and a pair of my socks. Both overly large, but she seemed content.
There was a visceral pleasure in seeing her wear my clothes, one I didn’t dare think about too closely. Michael cleared his throat, and I tore my eyes from her.
“You look lovely.”
“Yes, you wear my clothes better than I do.”
Her eyes were bright at our compliments, and again I was struck by her beauty. It was unnerving. She was not my type, nothing like the women I consorted with, but something about her drew me in completely. When she’d come from the bath and I’d seen her hair down, I’d immediately wanted to touch it. Play with it. Watch it drape over my chest as she straddled me. When she’d allowed me to pull it over her shoulder and I’d felt the silky strands against my fingers, clinging as if they didn’t wish to let go of my hand, heat had flashed through me, my body attempting to betray me like a schoolboy’s.
Her face was flushed, no makeup to mar the pink of her cheeks, and her hazel eyes were huge. The absence of mascara and eye shadow were a welcome relief as it allowed me to see her. She was a tiny thing. I was only five eleven, but she was shorter than me by several inches. Her body was curved, but I couldn’t see the details because her clothing didn’t flaunt it. I’d never thought that would be appealing, but it was. I knew she had a shape because I’d felt it when she’d leaned against me in the elevator.
She was a contradiction, one I wished to figure out. She’d fought herself free of two separate attacks, yet maintained her good nature. She’d found herself in our midst and would rather be employed than allow us to just provide for her. She’d even demanded rules. My smile widened at the remembrance of her demands and the fact that she’d even managed to take Michael by surprise.
“I’m hungry.” A low rumble had her clutching her stomach as a mortified blush painted her cheeks. I laughed at the sight, happier than I’d been in a long time, and wrapped my arm around her.
“I don’t think your current attire will pass muster with the stuffed suits in the restaurant, but room service should serve us well. What say you, Michael?” I guided her to the sofa and kneeled in front of her. She watched me like a hawk as I reached for the hem of her pants. I rolled the extra length of them up and tucked it into the overly large socks she wore.
Her quiet thank you was almost drowned out by Michael’s reply, but I caught it and winked.
“Room service is fine with me, but if you wish to dine in the restaurant, do not be concerned by your attire. I assure you no one will make mention of it while you are with us.”
“This is true. Michael has the entire staff here shaking in their boots.” I wiggled my eyebrows dramatically and she giggled.
“I’d like to try room service. I’ve never had it before. I think it would be fun to have someone bring you food.” She grinned, then pointed to her face. “Plus I’d hate to draw any more attention to myself.”
“Don’t concern yourself about that. We’ve weathered many a storm.” I snapped the room service menu open theatrically and began to read from it.
“Chicken Liver Pate with moscato gelee.”
“Tagliatelle, perhaps? Slow cooked rabbit and porcini mushrooms.”
She shook her head, face squinched in distaste at the different options I presented.
“I think you’re making that stuff up. Let me see.”
I held the menu out of reach and Michael picked up where I left off, lowering his voice dramatically.
“Squid ink Tagliolini. Ah, no. Bucatini All’ Amatriciana is a much better choice.
“Do any of those translate to cheeseburger?” She demanded as her stomach let out another growl.
“I’m afraid not.” Michael gave her an apologetic frown, and I gave a snort as she groaned.
“So dramatic, love. I guess it’s a good thing we weren’t actually reading the menu then.” She responded to my admission by jerking the menu out of my hand.
“Ha! They do have a hamburger, the Roux burger. Good enough for me. Think they’ll add cheese?” She squinted at the menu, running her finger underneath the words as she read. She didn’t read aloud, but I noticed she mouthed the words as she read.
“I’m positive they’ll give you whatever you ask.” The words must have come out a little more seriously than I intended as she glanced up at me. I gestured to the menu to distract her. “I believe I saw cookies and milk on there. Perhaps we should do dessert before dinner again.”
She gave me a bright smile and nodded.
“What do y’all want?”
“Y’all. A lovely Southern term, and from your ease of using it I take it one you’re familiar with. Where are you from?” Michael asked her curiously.
“The great state of Georgia, and one that is Southern to its core.”
“It occurs to me that we don’t know a great deal about one another. We shall rectify that over dinner.”
She grinned at Michael’s words and nodded.
“You have the most interesting way with words. Both of you.” She glanced between us and handed me the menu back.
“Us? The things I’ve heard since I’ve been in New Orleans. Utter absurdity.” I tossed the menu down, already familiar with the contents and knowing what I’d have.
Michael stepped over to the phone to place our order, meeting my eye with a lift of his eyebrow. I nodded and he turned to confirm Jane’s order.
“And three orders of your milk and cookies.” He finished, and Jane tucked her head into her knees with a huge grin. Her smile was contagious as I witnessed her dimples showcased in full effect.
“Now, tell us about yourself.” Michael settled in the chair across from us, his stare intent. Jane blinked under the full force of Michael’s attention before turning to me with wide eyes.
“There’s not much to tell. I lead a pretty boring life.” She managed to say, her head propped on her knees as she squeezed herself into the smallest space possible.
&nbs
p; “I doubt that. So far I’ve found you fascinating. You’ve been on mission trips? That must have been interesting.” I encouraged her, watching as she bit her cheek doubtfully at my comment.
“Mission trips aren’t nearly as interesting as you would think. They’re kind of depressing actually, and not much fun.” She shook her head. “Not to say we weren’t doing God’s work and it was important, but it would have been nice to spend the occasional holiday at home. Some of the worst days of my life were on mission trips.”
“And today? Does it not count as the worst day of your life?” Michael leaned forward curiously and I examined her face as she thought about it. Finally, she shook her head.
“Nope.” She paused and then admitted, “It could have been, but it worked out. At least so far.” Her eyes cut to mine, and I pointed to myself.
“Moi? You look toward me? Why?”
She laughed at my theatrics as I intended, shaking her head. “You have heartbreak written all over you Ian…” She tilted her head and said, “You know I don’t know your last name. I think I’ll need it. In the South we use your full name to yell at you.”
“That does not give me any incentive to tell you, love.”
“Ian Jacob Wright.” Michael admitted a bit too freely for my taste.
“Betrayal! And from my own blood.” I shook my head in mock disappointment as Jane bit back a smile. A moment later she tilted her head toward Michael with an inquiring raise of her eyebrow.
“Michael Henry Wright.” I pointed to him accusingly. “And I’ll wager you use his full name before you use mine.”
“I think not, brother.” Michael frowned disbelievingly which caused me to roll my eyes.
“Don’t let him fool you, love. He may be an angel compared to me, but that doesn’t mean the devil doesn’t reside within him as well.”
“Mmhmm. Now back to what we were discussing. If today isn’t your worst day ever…and I would like to know why you wouldn’t qualify this one as such, what was the worst day?”
Her uncomfortable look prompted me to say, “Michael, your insatiable curiosity may be a bit much. Perhaps our guest doesn’t wish to talk about her worst day or even this one especially not before dinner.” My warning caused a contrite expression to cross his face and he turned to Jane.
Average Jane Page 5
