by V. A. Dold
Mémé frowned as she studied the situation. “I don’t know if I have the strength to hold you up and get you across the room, but I’ll try.”
“No problem, ma’am, I’ll help her.”
Two heads snapped his direction.
“You’re not helping me in the bathroom!” El sputtered.
Marie chuckled at her granddaughter’s predicament. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“How about I help you as far as the door and your grand-mère can take it from there?”
Mémé nodded in agreement. “I could manage that much.”
El remained silent. He could tell she was searching for options. His wolf panted excitedly; he knew there were none and in a minute they would be holding all of her lovely curves.
“It looks like I have no choice,” she groused. Then she glared at Stefan. “You’ll keep your wondering hands to yourself, mister.”
He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m simply offering to assist you. I hadn’t considered seducing you. Yet.”
She let out a tired breath. “You’re not amusing.”
“Sure I am. Trust me, one day you’ll appreciate my attentions.”
Ignoring his comment, she worked the sheet out from under her and flipped it aside, then waited.
Stefan was frozen in place. Every bit of her legs were covered in deep purple bruising. Not a square inch left unmarred. Where the heck was he going to put his hands to lift her from the bed?
“Well? You going to help me up or just ogle my legs?”
Clearing his throat, he focused on the task at hand. He stepped forward and then back again.
“What the heck are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out how to touch you without hurting you.”
His admission and obvious concern melted the edges of the ice around her heart.
“Perhaps you can put your hands under her armpits,” Marie suggested, holding her hands out and mimicking an adult lifting a child. “And kind of–lift her up?”
El nodded. “I think you’re right, Mémé, that’s probably the least painful option.” She looked back to Stefan. “If you get me on my feet, I can lean on you to hobble to the bathroom.”
It sounded easier than it actually was. She clenched her teeth to hide the level of pain she was in. It couldn’t be helped and would pass in time. That and really good painkillers, which she would be taking the moment she had food in her stomach.
A few minutes later, Mémé helped her hobble back into the room.
Stefan quickly took El’s weight from Marie’s shoulder. He didn’t want her injured as well.
“Would you like me to help you back to bed or the couch?
She hesitated a minute to consider her options and allow the throbbing pain to ease a bit.
“There’s no way I can get dressed until I take some meds. Help me to the couch, please. I’ll eat something and take a pill, then I’ll tackle the rest of the day.
It took a few minutes, but she was settled on the couch with a fresh cup waiting for the delicious breakfast she smelled Marie making.
“This is great coffee, Stefan. Thank you.” She took another sip. “Once the meds kick in I’ll take care of the horses.”
Filled with pride Stefan said, “No need. The chores are already done.”
“Wow, really?” She cocked an eyebrow in surprise, “When did you do that?”
“I came back in right before I heard you trying to get out of bed.”
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Stefan beamed.
There went another layer of ice.
*****
Breakfast was finished and the pain medicine was doing its job. It was time to tackle clothing.
El chewed her lower lip. She had two choices, stay in her nightgown all day with Stefan glowering at her legs or attempt pants. Stefan already had her nerves frayed, and, since he refused to leave, it was time to struggle back to her room.
She eyeballed the furniture calculating every step. Grumbling a curse, she looked to the bayou Romeo.
“As much as I hate to ask, could you help me back to my bedroom?”
“Absolutely.” Stefan stood and stopped before her. “Anything you need, cher.”
Frowning, she searched his eyes. Why did he look so pained? She was the one beaten to a pulp.
Lifting her arms slightly so he could place his hands under her armpits again, El braced for the pain. As he lifted her with obvious care, she sucked in a deep breath and gritted her teeth. No matter how careful he or Mémé were, there was no avoiding the pain. She must be bruised to the bone. If she ever saw that piece of shit again she would finish the job and feel no remorse.
El wasn’t normally a bloodthirsty person, but trash like that needed killing.
Her lips pressed into a firm, straight line of concentration as she hobbled down the hall. Stefan remained silent, somehow knowing she needed to focus completely on the task at hand. Gently settled on the edge of the bed, he gave her an encouraging smile.
“What can I do to help?” he asked as Mémé joined them.
El held up one finger and took a deep, cleansing breath to clear away the residual pain.
“Grand-mère, would you please get my sweat pants and a sweatshirt?” More quietly she added, “And underwear.” The clothes sure wouldn’t make a fashion statement, but there was no way she was wearing jeans today.
Raising her gaze to Stefan, she indicated the door, “Would you wait in the hall for a minute?”
“Sure.” He nodded. “I’ll be right outside the door.”
Mémé managed to help her with her bra, panties, and sweatshirt, but she didn’t have the strength to help with the sweatpants.
Great, just great.
“Stefan?”
He opened the door cautiously.
“I could use some help, please.” Her voice was low and filled with distaste.
His quickened pulse and instant hard-on disgusted him. His mate was in terrible pain and he was acting like a buck in rut. Inwardly he snarled at his wolf and forced the beast to sit quietly.
“I can’t lift her to pull up the sweatpants,” Marie confided.
Stefan sensed her embarrassment. She wasn’t comfortable sitting before him in a sweatshirt and panties. Her sweats were pooled around her ankles, evidence they had indeed attempted them before asking for his assistance.
He made a point to maintain eye contact with El. He wouldn’t add to her shame by ogling her while she was so helpless.
Without looking away, he directed Mémé to pull the sweats up as he lifted her from the bed. Once she was modestly dressed, her level of anxiety eased.
“Thank you, Stefan, for being a gentleman about that.”
“Your comfort is of utmost importance to me,” he said quietly. “I would never take advantage of you in such a despicable manner. Regardless of what you may think, my mother raised me to be a gentleman. Your opinion of me matters. So much more than you know.”
She smiled shyly at his gallant little speech, and then whispered, “Maybe you’re not so bad.”
At this rate her icy heart melting was going to cause a flood.
With incredible gentleness, he raised her chin with a single finger and searched her eyes. His heart sang when he saw the beginnings of affection in her gaze. Slowly he bent for a kiss, hesitating for a moment a breath away from her lips. When no objections came, he brushed his lips over hers. It was barely a kiss at all and yet it was everything.
A Few Days Later
Stefan stretched his aching back. Morning chores were calling his name. Tonight he would be sleeping in El’s bedroom if he could manage it. His mate was well on her way to a full recovery. The bruising had faded and was more green than purple. Yesterday, a fiberglass cast replaced the temporary one from the emergency room. El grumbled all the way home when the doctor insisted she stay out of the barn for at least another week.
Patricia was with his mechanic being c
hecked from top to bottom. He hoped to get the results today. Something was very off about the accident. El’s attacker was gone before the police arrived and still on the loose.
Stefan wasn’t about to leave her side until the man was apprehended; he had a gut feeling the animal was waiting in the shadows to attack again. He hadn’t discussed what happened that night with her yet, at least not in detail. Now that she was feeling better, he would find a way to bring the subject up and get some answers.
Coffee. He needed coffee, stat. The house was still quiet so he must be the first person up. Barefoot, he padded quietly to the kitchen and began his search for filter and grounds. The aroma of fresh brew filled the house as he waited, mug in hand, for his first cup.
Rustling alerted him he was not alone. A glance over his shoulder, showed him El paused in the doorframe. A frown creased his brow, unease radiated from her in waves.
What’s wrong?
He grabbed a second mug and filled both. When he turned to offer her the cup, he noticed she was chewing her lip and her gaze was pinned to his boxer shorts, his ‘very happy to see you this morning,’ boxer shorts. A roguish grin stretched his lips as he set the mugs back on the counter.
Two steps and he was standing before her with his hand extended.
She frowned at his strange behavior but hesitantly took it. His grin turned sweet and a bit lopsided as his dimples deepened and joy crept into his eyes.
“You’re happy to see me this morning.”
He pulled her closer until her plump breasts brushed his bare chest. Only her cotton nightgown separated them.
“You’re fighting it, cher, but you like me. I think you like me a lot, admit it.” He drawled the words next to her ear, warm breath heating her skin and other parts of her body.
She sucked in a nervous breath; the rise of her chest rubbed her already peaked nipples against the fabric of her gown. Who knew soft cotton could cause this much friction? Something twitched against her belly.
Was that?
A tortured groan in her ear answered her unasked question. Yes, it was. He was a well-built man everywhere from what she could feel. Lips were felt on her neck, and trailed kisses to her shoulder...
Did he just lick me?
“Mmm...I could get used to this.”
“Well, don’t.” She meant to say it...well, like she meant it. Instead her voice was husky.
Alarms rang in her mind and she pushed on his chest to create some much-needed space.
“My grand-mère could walk in here. Put some clothes on and control yourself.”
“One day soon, I guarantee, you will beg me to lose control.”
“Well, your guarantee isn’t happening today.”
Stefan didn’t reply, he simply ran his palms down her bare arms and stepped back. Then blatantly drifted his gaze over her as he licked his lips. He left no doubt about his desire for her.
The passion of his suggestive actions caused an intense reaction throughout her body. Her heart was doing funny little fluttery flips, and excited quivers invaded her girl parts. She had always been unbelievably attracted to Stefan, and up until recently she had been winning the battle. Somehow he’d wormed his way under her skin, past her defenses and managed to not trip her alarms.
There was a gleam in his eyes and a hint of laughter she found as sexy as hell. His fingertips brushed her cheek, sweetly, disarmingly. He was way too dangerous to stand this close to. Her only option was distance, lots and lots of distance.
El cleared her throat and stepped around Stefan to claim her mug of coffee. Her hands were shaking so badly she had to set the mug back on the counter before it sloshed all over the floor.
Stefan chuckled behind her and left the room. Hopefully to put clothes on. It would be impossible to resist him if he stayed in the house. The new mare needed some work on the long line. She would ask him to do that today and get some space.
She heard Stefan’s phone ring and indistinguishable mumbling right before a loud curse in Cajun. He was really angry about something; the string of furious words firing from his lips was a dead giveaway. Seconds later a tow truck pulled up with Patricia trailing behind.
She watched as Stefan greeted the driver. There was a lot of squinting and pointing; they must be discussing the mechanic’s findings. Stefan’s face grew angrier by the second.
Minutes later, he stormed back into the house and yelled, “What were you thinking taking a ride from a stranger!”
“I beg your pardon?” She jammed her hands on her hips and frowned at him, almost superior, definitely annoyed.
“You got into the vehicle of a strange man on a dark, deserted road in the middle of a storm. Didn’t your mother ever tell you how dangerous that is?” Stefan threw his arms up in exasperation.
“Yes. How perceptive of you. I certainly did get into his car. People do things like that when their vehicle no longer runs and someone offers to help them. And, no, my mother never told me that because she died when I was two.” Now she was purposely enunciating each word slowly like he had a disability.
“You could have been...Why haven’t you purchased a newer truck?” he asked as he quickly changed the topic. Visions of the man attacking her was more than he could handle. Then his brain kicked in. “Wait. What? Ah, hell, I’m sorry, El. I had no idea you lost your mother when you were so young.”
“Where the hell is this suddenly coming from? Go home, Le Beau. You’re pissing me off.”
He ignored her comment and instead walked out to the truck to examine the damage again.
El stopped short as she reached her front door. “Why does it matter so much to you what I do?” She regarded him uneasily.
“It just does. I can’t explain why.” His lips clamped tight, then he mumbled something that sounded like, “At least not yet.”
“Hold on. What are you talking about, not yet?”
Stefan stiffened and rose from his crouched position near the front fender. He had said too much. From the condition of her truck, even if it hadn’t been tampered with, she could have been seriously hurt at any point. His wolf was frothing at the mouth alternating between rage and terror for its mate. That was amplifying his human reactions to a fever pitch.
El waited until he turned toward her. Oh, boy. By the expression he wore, he was really upset now. His eyes seemed brighter and she would swear they had a glow to them. His temper was definitely getting ready to blow. She had seen that same expression on her father a few times in her teen years. It never ended well. His fists were opening and closing like he was itching for a fight. This was no longer the easygoing, charming man she normally saw him portray.
An explosion of Cajun expletives fired from his mouth so rapidly she almost couldn’t keep up, and she spoke Cajun, too. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? How close you came to...dying?” He took a step toward her as he choked on the word. He was a confused jumble of anger, fear, and love.
El squared her shoulders, widened her stance, and stood her ground. No one had been able to intimidate El since she was six years old. Stefan Le Beau sure the hell wasn’t going to get away with it either.
She’d learned how to fight and protect herself long ago. Every ranch hand had taken a personal interest in her upbringing. It had been like having a dozen doting fathers. Then once she began to bloom, as the men liked to call it, she was enrolled in karate. She was a black belt, and though she didn’t go looking for a fight, she had no qualms about defending herself.
His eyes flashed at her as he stepped out of the shadow of the truck and into the sunlight. They held a heated emotion she found more fascinating than frightening. Stefan normally portrayed himself as a charmer. Who knew that beneath that façade was a man of intense emotions, a man he kept hidden.
Dammit, this man she could fall for, and that was just not going to happen.
Her thoughts stopped him in his tracks. Hope blossomed in his chest. Maybe he was making progress after all. He took a mo
ment to breathe his temper away; he had to tread more carefully.
“I’m sorry, cher. The thought of what could have happened scares the hell out of me. I have a few things I want to check on Patricia and then I have some things to tell you.”
She studied him a moment, then gave a single nod. From the front window she watched him disappear behind the cab. Wait a minute, was that a tail? She swore she saw a tail flash near the rear tire.
It was several minutes before Stefan emerged from behind the truck and joined her.
As they settled in the living room, Marie joined them. “I see Patricia is back. She all patched up?”
“That’s what I want to talk to both of you about. The accident wasn’t an accident.”
Marie’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, what do you mean it wasn’t an accident?”
“Your truck was sabotaged. The fuel line was punctured and the tire didn’t blow on its own.”
“Why would anyone do that to my truck?” El asked skeptically.
Stefan leaned forward and stared intently at El. “Like I told you before, there have been issues surrounding my family and the women we...care about. Someone knows about my feelings for you. Whoever he is, he’s targeted you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mémé Drops a Bomb
“What are you talking about?” El’s eyes blazed. “Since when do you have feelings for me?”
The air in the room literally crackled with tension. They were so intent on each other, both of them jumped when Marie banged her coffee cup loudly on the table.
“That’s it. I can’t take it anymore.” She focused on Stefan first. “As you know all too well, my granddaughter is hardheaded, but I love her. I know what you are, Stefan Le Beau, and who El is for you.”
Stefan was shocked, not only by her outburst but the fact she knew about shifters and mates.
Marie held up a hand. “Both of you shut up and let me speak my piece.”
She turned to El. “He’s telling you the gospel truth, cher. Believe him when he says he has very deep feelings for you. You might as well stop trying to push him away, he’ll never give up, ever.”
