by Nicole Helm
His mouth curved, and his little exhale of breath was something close to a laugh. “Of course you do.” He reached behind him and tugged at his collar, but winced and dropped it. “Help me get this off,” he ground out, turning his back to her again.
The shirt was ruined—torn, bloody—and if she focused on that she would maybe not focus on the fact he’d just asked her to help him take his shirt off.
“I, uh, should maybe get some of the glass out first.” Which was the truth, not some excuse to keep from having to touch his naked back.
“Go for it.”
“Right.” She blew out a breath and ignored how her hand shook as she pulled the tweezer tool out of her Swiss Army knife.
She had to splay her hand across the least torn-up shoulder blade to try to find her balance and leverage. Some of the tenseness in his shoulder relaxed at her touch, and she didn’t know what to make of that. That or the too-hard beating of her heart.
She took a deep breath and focused on the largest piece of glass sticking out of Bennet’s back. She bit her lip and used the tweezers to pull it out. Bennet didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. She placed the stomach-curdling piece of bloody glass on the sink, wincing a little at the thought of the blood staining the countertop.
“Well, I think it might look worse than it actually is,” Alyssa offered hopefully, shuffling awkwardly closer to get the next piece of glass.
“Great,” Bennet muttered.
“This would be easier with you lying on a bed.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, something about the wide-eyed look and slight curve of his mouth causing her face to heat.
“J-just for...leverage.”
His mouth curved even more. “Leverage,” he repeated, far too amused.
She scowled at him. “You want this glass out of you or not?”
“The bed it is. You want to take my shirt off first?”
She pretended to study his back if only so she didn’t have to meet his gaze. “All right,” she said, refusing to let any of her uncertainty come out in her voice.
She flexed her fingers, willing away the slight tremor in them before touching the hem of his T-shirt. She could do this. Take some glass out of his back, take off a shirt. It was all just...business.
Sort of.
She swallowed and pulled the shirt away from Bennet’s back, then lifted the fabric. “You’re, uh, going to have to bend over or pull it or something.”
He reached back with only a minimal sucked-in breath and pulled the shirt off, leaving his back completely bare. And broad. And strong. And bloody.
“Oh.” His injuries weren’t anywhere near serious, but it looked so ugly. Glass and blood and scratches. She touched her finger to an unmarred spot, feeling oddly protective, hurt by this silly little attack on him.
“Not looking so great now?”
She pulled her hand away, something like guilt washing over her. “You’ll live.”
He made a considering noise then gestured toward a second door. “To the bed, then?” And somehow this man with bits of glass shards in his back was grinning at her. Charmingly.
She’d faced down her brothers, a madman of a kidnapper and all his goons, a parcel of FBI agents in an attempt to garner some power, admittedly foolish in retrospect. She’d faced all those people down without a qualm, but it was always the quiet moments she didn’t know what to do with.
Gabby and Natalie’s kindness. A charming smile from an all-too-handsome Texas Ranger. It made her feel young and stupid.
She grabbed the first aid kit and lifted her chin at him. “I’ll follow you.”
He walked out the door and into a huge bedroom, all white and black just like every other room in his bizarre place. Where was the color? The charm? The—
Bennet got on the bed, lying stomach down on the pristine white blankets. He crossed his hands under his head and rested his temple on the back of one hand, studying her.
She looked away and placed the kit on the nightstand and focused on getting out and opening bandages and not staring at a Texas Ranger all sprawled out half-naked on his bed after saving her from...well, minor injury.
“I do have an investigation to start if we could hurry this damn thing up.”
“Right.” Except he was lying there, and she wasn’t sure why she thought this would give her more leverage. Oh, she could reach all places on his back easier, but she’d have to lean over him. Brush against him. Hell, it’d be easiest if she could just straddle his legs and go at it that way.
She was not going to go at it that way. But she did have to do it. So, enough of being a silly little girl. Maybe she was a sheltered virgin in the oddest sense of the word, but she had a job to do. Bennet had helped her out, and now it was her turn to help him.
So, she focused on the glass shards and pulling out all she could see. She focused on using the antibiotic ointment on the cuts and bandaging them up. And if she noticed that his skin was soft, or that his muscles rippled appealingly any time he moved, well... So what? Adult women did that sort of thing, didn’t they? Noticed attractive men.
“There might still be debris in there,” Alyssa said, bandaging up the last of the cuts. “I only got out what I could see.”
“It’ll be good enough,” he replied, pushing himself into a sitting position on the bed.
“You should go to the hospital. Some of those bigger cuts might need stitches.”
He shook his head.
“Why aren’t you reporting this?” There was a reason, and she was a little afraid she knew what it was.
His jaw firmed, but he didn’t look away. That blue gaze pinned her in place. “First off, they’d put me on medical leave for a day or two and give someone else the case. Second of all...”
“Your parents?”
“That was your brother’s insinuation.”
“And you believe him?”
Bennet looked away for a moment. “I don’t know. It could be a trick. It could be true. It could be a lot of things, but I want to be the one to figure it out.”
“I should go.”
He looked back at her, brow furrowing. “Go where?”
“Home. No one was bugging my place, and my brothers didn’t hurt me or take me, which means they aren’t going to. There’s no reason for me to stay here.”
He scooted to the edge of the bed and took her hands with his before she could think to step away. “Alyssa, that doesn’t mean you’re not in danger,” he said seriously.
“I’ve been in danger before. I can handle myself.”
He studied her, and she couldn’t read his expression or guess what he was looking for, but when she tried to tug her hands away, he only held on tighter.
“I know your brothers insinuated that I know something about your mother, about anything, but I don’t. You have to believe that.”
“I do.” Maybe she shouldn’t, but why would he have come to her with her mother’s picture as a Jane Doe if he knew anything?
“If either of my parents is involved in some kind of crime, I will not hesitate to turn them in, Alyssa. I took an oath. For what it’s worth, my parents took an oath, and if they are not representing their constituents in a lawful fashion, then it’s out of my hands.”
She blinked at the vehemence in his tone. “O-okay.”
“So you don’t need to worry.”
“What do you think I’m worried about?”
“You’re trying to leave. You must be worried about something.”
“I’m... You don’t need me, Bennet. You got your Jane Doe name, and there’s no point trying to get drawn into my brothers’ world now. They know too much.” She was useless to him. Just like you’re useless to everyone else.
Again she tugged her hands, but Bennet h
eld her in his grasp.
“Until we know how this all connects, until we can be certain you’re safe, you’re under my protection.”
Tears pricked her eyes unexpectedly. Protection. She was so tired of being under someone else’s protection. And yet, today Bennet had let her fight her own battle within that protection. He hadn’t abandoned her or allowed her to be hurt like everyone else had.
“And you’re right, we can’t go into your brothers’ world now, but we have a much bigger challenge ahead of us,” he said gravely.
We. We. As if they were a team, working together, protecting each other. “We do?” she managed to ask past the lump in her throat.
“I have to bring you into mine.”
Chapter Seven
Bennet didn’t bother to find a new shirt, and he didn’t bother to try to figure out what Alyssa’s silence meant. They had work to do.
“Did you recognize either of the names your brother mentioned?”
Alyssa blew out a breath. “Sal Cochrane not so much.”
“And Salvador Dominguez?”
Her expression shuttered, and he supposed it was answer enough, though it didn’t sit well with him that she knew.
“I’ve been a bounty hunter—”
“Illegal bounty hunter,” he interrupted, because he liked the way she scowled at him when he did. “You don’t only know Dominguez from the past two years. Don’t insult me with a lie at this point.”
She had the decency to look a little shamed. “I don’t know Salvador Dominguez, but I have heard of him.”
“From your brothers?”
She shook her head almost imperceptibly.
“Then from who?” he demanded, as irritated with her hesitation as he was with the burning sensation in his back.
“My father, but...” Alyssa rubbed her hands together, clearly working out something in her head without letting him in on pertinent information.
“But what?”
“He wasn’t... He isn’t... When he told me about Dominguez, none of it made any sense. And when I told CJ, he...”
“He what?”
Her gaze flew to his. “Oh my God. He made me think Dad was crazy. He convinced me Dad had lost his mind but... But Dad said Salvador Dominguez had our mother. That she hadn’t left, that someone had double-crossed him and I would be next and... Bennet, they convinced me Dad was crazy, but maybe he wasn’t.”
“Why tell us? And what does it have to do with Sal Cochrane?”
She shook her head, eyebrows drawn together, hands clasped. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” She paced, fury taking over her features. “I hate that we have to find out when that’s just what he wants us to do.”
“Maybe it’s some kind of warning. Some kind of way to help you, and if we find out—”
She laughed. Bitterly. “I might be able to convince myself of that if it had been any of my other brothers, but CJ has been in charge too long to have any decency left in him. Whatever reason he has for showing up, for letting me go, for dropping those little breadcrumbs, it is for the cartel’s well-being and that alone.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, and he curled his hands into fists so he didn’t reach out. They could probably stand a little less touching, a little less close quarters, and a lot less his being an idiot and trying to make her blush.
How this unbelievably strong fighter of a woman could blush at the remotest sexual thing was beyond him, and he liked it far too much.
But sexual was not something he could afford to be thinking about. No matter how gently she’d tended his wounds, or how brave she was, or how much he wanted to protect her.
“Does The Stallion have anything to do with the cartels?” she asked, still hugging her arms around herself.
“The Stallion has been in prison for two years,” he reminded her as gently as he could.
“Before that, I mean. It all has to connect, don’t you think? Not just now, either. This is sixteen years in the making, if it connects to my mother.”
Bennet sighed. He didn’t know. It seemed there were a million connections and he didn’t have a clue about any of them. It was more than possible a rival cartel could have killed Alyssa’s mother, but that didn’t explain why she’d been left a Jane Doe.
There were too many unanswered questions, and what clues he had came from criminals with their own agendas. If he thought he’d been frustrated at the prospect of a Jane Doe, it had nothing on this frustration.
But this was what he wanted. A challenge. To do something good for once. All on his own.
“Bennet,” a voice boomed from the entryway.
Bennet swore. The last thing he wanted to do right now was go toe-to-toe with his father.
“I assume that’s not the staff,” Alyssa offered drily.
“It’s my father.”
“Do your parents know how to knock?”
“Not if it doesn’t suit them.” Bennet glanced at the door. It was no use to hide Alyssa when Mother would have already told Father about her, but he didn’t want to waste time trading fake niceties or old-hat arguments with his father.
He took a step toward Alyssa. There was one possible way to get his father out of here quickly. And he was already shirtless.
“I need you to go along with something, all right?”
“With what? Being Alyssa Clark? I did this morning. I don’t see why...”
She trailed off when he slid his arms around her, her eyes widening as she looked up at him.
“W-what are you doing?”
“We need time, and if my father comes in here he won’t be sweeping out anytime soon. Not like my mother. He’ll want to stay and chat and charm and who knows what all. We don’t have time for that, so we’re going to pretend we are otherwise engaged.”
“Bennet?” the voice boomed again, closer.
“Otherwise. Engaged,” Alyssa repeated breathlessly, and though she leaned away from him she didn’t jerk away or try to escape.
So, he pulled her close and lowered his mouth close to hers. “It’s only pretend. Like...undercover work.”
Her eyelashes fluttered and her breath came in short bursts, and he had no business wondering if the attraction he felt wasn’t one-sided. If she might feel some of that in return. If she might...
“Bennet?” This time followed by a knock on the bedroom door as the knob turned.
Bennet pressed his mouth to Alyssa’s, but all she did was stand there. Frozen and wide-eyed and not at all pretending. She didn’t slap him either, but she didn’t relax or even feign a kiss back.
“You have to kiss me back,” he whispered across her mouth.
“B-but I don’t know how.”
Hell.
* * *
BENNET WAS KISSING HER. His mouth was on her mouth, and no matter that he held her sturdily against him, that he’d called it pretend, she didn’t know what the hell to do with her mouth or her arms or with anything.
His father was stepping inside the room and—Bennet’s fingers tangled in her hair, angling her whole head so that his mouth slid more easily across hers. Sweetly. Gently. It was warm and...nice. Nice enough to relax into, to soften. She very nearly sighed.
So, this was kissing. Well, she supposed having her body pressed up against the large, hard body of a man while his soft, firm mouth angled over hers had its appeal. It made her whole body feel warm and heavy, it made every place her body touched his seem to sparkle to life, and to taste another person—
A throat cleared, and Alyssa jerked. She didn’t know how she’d lost so much track of where she was or what...
She could only blink up at Bennet, but his expression was blank, his jaw hard and his gaze not on her.
“Sorry to interrupt,” an unfam
iliar voice drawled, sounding very much not sorry.
Alyssa finally gathered enough sense to step away from Bennet and look at their intruder. Which made Alyssa blink all over again.
“Are you sorry to interrupt, Father?” Bennet asked, his voice cool and unaffected. “Because a gentleman would perhaps just step back out.”
Mr. Stevens smiled widely and looked so much like his son Alyssa could only stare.
“Gary L. Stevens,” he said in that charming drawl, holding out a hand to her. And Alyssa would have to give him credit. He might have worse timing than Bennet’s mother, but he was certainly kinder.
“I would really prefer it if you weren’t introducing yourself to women in my bedroom when we are in the middle of something.”
“So traditional,” Mr. Stevens said with a wink to Alyssa.
“What are you doing here? I am busy,” Bennet said through gritted teeth.
“Your mother sent me on a fact-finding mission, and you know how she gets. I wasn’t about to return empty-handed. You must be Alyssa. Clark, was it?”
Alyssa nodded mutely. Where Mrs. Stevens had put her back up with her cold disapproval, she didn’t know what to do with Mr. Stevens’s easy friendliness. Much like she didn’t know what to do with Bennet’s fake kisses that apparently affected him not at all.
“I know it’s incredibly rude of me, Ms. Clark, but I need just a few moments in private with my son or I’ll never get any peace at home.”
Bennet opened his mouth, presumably to argue, but Alyssa didn’t think that would do anyone any good. She adopted her smooth, fake drawl and smiled sweetly at Mr. Stevens. “Of course.” She glanced at Bennet, reminded herself she was playing a part. And the part was that of possible floozy girlfriend.
She patted his bare chest and attempted to look pouty and alluring even though she had no idea how to look that. “You might want to put a shirt on, honey.”
Especially if he was going to keep the injuries hidden from his father.
Alyssa walked out the door, pulling it almost closed behind her, but she left a crack. When no one finished closing it, she took a few steps down the hall, then stood exactly where she was, gratified when she could hear everything being said.
