by Mimi Barbour
Washington wasn’t too hot for a change. Instead of the mugginess that hovered many times in this famous city, there was a cool breeze. The day was perfect for running. After a warm-up of stretches and bends, her body felt loose and lovely. She started out on her favorite route where, every once in a while, she'd see children playing in their yards—mostly with their overly protective parents watching.
Kids made her wish she liked the male species—at least enough to want to procreate with one. But during her torturous earlier years as a fat girl, it was the boys who teased her the worst, called her by the meanest names and made her want to crawl under the nearest rock. No, not a rock, she corrected the thought; make that a huge boulder.
Stop thinking about that garbage today… It's too beautiful. She shut down bad memories and got into her rhythm.
One moment she was ambling along at her unusual steady pace, in the next she registered the danger to a child chasing his ball into the street and somehow became magically jet-propelled. She never knew she could run so fast.
Immense satisfaction filled her for the split second she had him safe in her arms—before the impact. After the car hit her, the pain overrode everything—pain and shock.
Anger followed close behind. Rage at the pointlessness of the accident flooded into her scrambled brain and gave her the necessary courage not to pass out. Why some stupid fool had to show off his fancy wheels by driving like a lunatic, she'd never understand. Not only could she have been killed, but the child clutching at her might also have ended up a bloody corpse.
She hated to admit that some slick last-minute control on the driver's part had prevented them from even worse injury, but in her heart she knew it to be true. Nevertheless, he'd been well over the speed limit; therefore she felt justified in wanting to kill the SOB.
Just then, the boy's body jerked spasmodically, and she felt his terror. She needed to be strong. Keep him calm. Ignore the fire igniting into flames along her left side. She swallowed the blood that had pooled in her mouth from where she'd bitten her tongue and focused on keeping her voice from shaking.
Half lying, half sitting on the side of the road, she rocked her precious bundle back and forth and whispered, "It's okay, baby. I have you safe. We're fine."
From the end of a long tunnel, or so it seemed, she was aware that after the screech from the brakes stopped, a car door opened. But it wasn't until a large male rushed over and knelt beside her that the straw broke.
Chapter Three
Oh god! A child! A massive adrenaline rush made breathing impossible and coherent thinking pure nonsense. Training and instinct took over.
Then just before the moment of impact, a smallish woman appeared from out of nowhere to lift the boy in her arms, swinging her back to the car to take the brunt of the blow. He’d never seen anyone move so fast—or so fluidly for that matter.
The sound of the car hitting her body tore his heart right out of him, leaving behind a gaping hole of anguished fear. Add the screech of the tires, and it would be a litany of sounds he’d never forget. Only one telling sob escaped as he bolted from the vehicle and slid to the ground next to the victims. Expecting blood and broken bodies, he wilted with relief when the mass of limbs unfolded and a very angry face pushed its way into his personal space until their noses all but came into contact.
Squeaking with fury, obviously unable to catch a full breath, the blonde doll glared and hissed like a cornered tomcat. And rightly so. He deserved whatever she could manage to push out from lips visibly trembling.
“Are you crazy? Driving—speeding lunatic—kill people.”
“I’m so sorry.” His hands reached to help.
Her visible effort to speak impressed the heck out of him. Finally she managed, “Get out of my way, you maniac.” She slapped at his hands, all the while cuddling the quivering, shocked boy against her chest. Her trembling hand ruffled the boy’s bangs and then checked his limbs. “Sweetie, are you okay. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“I want my mummy.”
The wail almost broke Liam’s heart. He answered in a voice softened by shame. “Of course you do, Streak. Don’t cry, big guy. I’ll get her for you. Where do you live?”
Just then a scream devastated what was left of his nerves as a woman heavy with child raced awkwardly towards them and collapsed to her knees. “Pedro!! Mi niño, are you okay? Are you hurt? Tell mamá.”
Blondie released her hold on the boy, who was now angling and reaching in the direction of the distraught woman. “Mamá, I lost my ball.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll buy you another ball.” While feverishly squeezing him to her, the mother rained kisses over the child’s face and hair. “Just promise me to never run into the street like that again. Promise me.” Saying those words seemed to ignite her anger, and her voice rose. She gripped the boy’s arms and shook the sobbing, frightened child until Liam reached over and put his hands on top of hers.
“Don’t,” was all he said, but it was enough. Wails of fear and pain issued from between the mother’s lips to harmonize with the child’s as Liam wrapped his big arms around them both and hugged them back and forth before lifting them all up to their feet.
“We need to call an ambulance and take him to the hospital. A doctor should check him out, don’t you think?” Liam insisted, and then hesitated when he felt the mother withdraw.
Blondie, still crouched on the ground, looked up at the mother and talked softly. "I'm sure the car didn't touch him, but we can't take any chances."
“I can drive him—” Liam broke in.
Blondie's head whipped his way. “Like that’s going to happen. You shouldn’t be allowed behind the wheel,” she sneered.
“Right. Don’t know what I was thinking. We’ll call emergency. I’ll get my cell phone right—"
“No.” Pedro’s mother broke into their conversation. “Pedro seems to be okay. He doesn’t need to go to the hospital.” Then she leaned over and her hand went to stroke the blonde’s cheek for an instant as she looked into her eyes. “Maybe it's you who needs medical attention, miss? Gracias—muchas gracias. God will grace you for what you did today.”
Blondie’s hand covered hers. The two women shared an intimate look that spoke from one mother’s heart to another woman’s soul. A telling look that only women can share.
"I'm fine, just catching my breath." Blondie smiled and squeezed the other's hand.
Clutching the toddler, whose arms were wrapped tightly around her neck, the lady with the immense stomach turned clumsily in the direction of the curb and staggered forward. Her pregnancy looked to be advanced and the weight of the child seemed to be almost more than she could handle. But handle it she did. Stoically and slowly, she’d almost reached the sidewalk before Liam got a nudge from his irate victim, who slapped his leg, gave him "the look" and pointed.
Stunned, maybe, but not being too slow, he caught on and rushed over to help. “Ma’am, let me take the boy. He's too heavy for you."
The child peeked up at him from where he'd hidden his face on his mom's neck and wailed, "No." His arms tightened and he hugged even closer to his mother.
"No need, señor. Pedro is shy."
Driven, Liam couldn't let it go. "Look, ma'am, you need to take my card in case there’re any problems that appear later, you know, if the boy needs to see the doctor, or for that matter, anything that might arise from this experience. I know the accident was my fault, and I want to take care of him.”
“No, mister. It wasn’t your fault. My Pedro ran in front of your car. That you stopped in time is a miracle, and the young lady who saved him is an angel. I’ll say prayers for you both.”
As if he didn’t hear her, he put the card into the pocket of her sweater, forcing her to take it. “At least tell me your name and where you live, so I can check later to make sure he’s okay.”
“I’m Isobela Ruiz. We live in the white house, just here. Upstairs in the apartment.” She nodded to the closest building
, a dilapidated structure. Then she started forward again to where the stairs rose steeply.
He turned to go back to his car and began to hurry when he saw Blondie using the bumper to pull herself to her feet.
She rose slowly. White-faced, she leaned against the car.
“Help her, you idiot. She can’t carry him up those stairs. She can barely walk herself.”
Pivoting, he saw truth in her words. He sprinted back to Isobela and her son. “Let me take the boy and help you upstairs. It’s too hard for you to carry him.”
“Mama!” The baby had a loud voice and a stubborn streak. “Again he tightened his hold around his mother’s neck and hid his face in her hair.
“Thank you for offering. I’ll just go slowly.”
Liam didn’t hesitate. “Pardon me, I need to help you.” With those words, he gently lifted the pair in his arms and carried them up the crooked, badly chipped stairs to the top, where the flimsy screen door flapped in the wind. He set her down carefully and tousled the boy’s hair, then turned in time to see that Blondie seemed to be in some difficulty.
Shit! His stomach tightened and gave him hell as he darted down the stairs to her side, just in time to catch her as she collapsed to her knees.
Chapter Four
She wrenched herself from the man's hands, then slapped at him when he wouldn't let go. "Don’t touch me, you nutcase. Driving like you're racing in the frigging Indy 500." Her face ended up two inches from his. "Damn fool. You could have killed us."
He frowned, pulled back, and clenched his hands. “I'm sorry." What could he say? She was right, and he hated knowing it. On the other hand, he'd never shirked his responsibilities or hesitated to be accountable for his own actions. "I was speeding."
"Achh!" Disgustedly, she pushed him out of her space and again hung onto the car, trying to get the support she needed to rise.
"Don't be silly. Let me help you."
"No! I don't want you to touch me."
"Why are you being so stubborn? I just want to help.” Without further ado, he lifted her into his arms, over the side of the convertible, and into the front seat.
“Are you crazy? Let me out of here. I’m not going anywhere with you. You all but killed me earlier with your stupid stunt, flying through the red light—”
“It was yellow.”
“Was not.”
“Was too.” He glared at her over the side of the car and watched the sparks ignite in her cat-spitting green eyes. She crossed her arms and pushed her face closer. “Where do you think you’re taking me?”
“To the nearest hospital.”
“No way! I don’t want to go to a hospital.” A small dimple appeared on each side of her mouth as she ground her teeth.
“Tough! My car hit you. You need to see a doctor. With a slap on the door, he started around the front of the vehicle to get in at the driver’s side.
“My mother's a nurse. She'll check me out. Just let me sit here for a minute, and then I'll be on my way. Hopefully never to run into you again."
"I think it was the other way around." Have you lost your mind? Whatever possessed him to make such a stupid joke about the accident? Obviously slipped out before his brain had caught up with his flapping mouth. Adrenaline stimulation must have short-circuited your brain cells.
His grin faded from the power of her direct, unflinching, not-amused stare.
"Look, it's the shock. I'm not usually so insensitive. Truly, I want to help, and if you let me drive you to your mother's, I promise not to go over thirty miles an hour." His hand began its rise, since he'd intended on putting it over his heart, but on second thought he decided to forgo the silly maneuver and hope the sincerity in his voice would be enough to convince her.
Her trembling fingers rose to secure her hair where it had escaped from a clip in the back, while her half-lidded gaze searched his face and contemplated. He saw her wince and reached to help with the silky strands. Her exclamation of annoyance stopped him immediately. A thought popped into his mind and wouldn't go away. She'd be officer material in any man's army; the rank of captain came to mind or maybe torturer, interviewer, person who extracts information.
As she lowered her arms, a groan escaped.
"That's it. You're hurt and being stubborn." He headed around to the driver's side and got into the car. He pushed the starter button, reached for his safety belt, and peeked to see what she thought about his high-handedness.
Yep, she wrenched at the door handle, fully intending to get out of his car. He reached past her and pulled it closed, then pushed the child safety locks and flinched when he heard her swear under her breath.
Green eyes blazed spikes of resentment aimed directly toward his face. "Get this into your head. I am not going anywhere with you. Not even to the corner. Now let me out of this car."
Without knowing why, Liam glanced into the rear-view mirror, not at all surprised to see his earlier phantom. Depp's look-alike radiated satisfaction in his raised eyebrows and smug smile. Pride flooded his face as he looked adoringly at the she-mule in the passenger seat.
"You're in for it now, my man!”
Liam had no idea how he could hear the voice, see the body and yet know with everything sane in him that he was arguing—mind-talking—with a ghost. "Don't you start!"
"Just saying. And I'm not a ghost."
"And I'm not your man." Should a ghost sound so huffy? Liam's daytime nightmare just ramped up.
He glanced at the girl next to him, who still had her arms crossed and her bottom lip protruding slightly from one of the prettiest shaped mouths he'd ever noticed. He'd seen similar on lipstick ads and had always wondered if they'd been surgically enhanced.
Somehow he just knew hers were nature's own creative perfection. As he watched, she sucked in the bottom one and chewed on it, a small tell that she was upset. It gave him confidence that maybe she wasn't as hard-assed as she'd been putting on. A throat clearing from behind pulled his thoughts back to the matter at hand.
"She won't listen to me. I can't force her."
"Give over, mate. She's hurt and not thinking clearly. Saw her life pass before her eyes, she did. You need to man up."
"Easy for you to say."
Liam caught her hand once again on the way up to fixing her hair. Short and curly, the blonde mass rioted around her small face, and no amount of tugging and twisting seemed able to control it, though she'd tried numerous times.
As soon as he touched her, she stopped the upward movement and fisted her fingers. From the steamy glare, he would have sworn her intentions had been to sock him in the chops.
"Calm down, honey. What can I do to make up for this? I've been trying to tell you how sorry I am. Please just let me get you to someone who can look after you."
Whether frustration or genuine caring seeped into his words, Liam wasn't sure—he didn't know what he felt. Angry at his own culpability? Thankful for not killing anyone? Accepting that he'd suffer more wakeful nights, new nightmares to add to the others, a sigh escaped that turned into a moan.
The sound seemed to get through to the she-tiger. It hung between them, the noise of a man in pain.
Chapter Five
Sadie clearly heard his pain. And it broke her reserve and stopped her from demanding that he call a taxi.
She searched his expression, and as hard as she found it to trust any man, she knew when a person was being honest. Her judge of character had been honed through years of suffering from her fellow humans' spiteful meanness and sad small minds. Boys, being the worst, had turned her off the male species to this day. Even at the age of twenty-eight, much to her family's horror, she hadn't changed.
And this guy personified the type of fellow she most detested, full of himself just because he'd been granted good looks and a tall strong body that moved like a sex advert.
She knew he waited for her to give in, and she never would have but for the agonized sound. It dug into her conscience and melted her resistance.
>
"Fine." She all but yelled the word. Pissed at herself for lacking the control to ignore his feelings, she wished the throbbing on her right side didn't hurt so badly. If she thought she could escape from his fancy silver metallic chick-magnet without collapsing in a heap of cuss words and whimpers, she'd be gone.
Blasted hair was driving her bonkers. She swiped it back from her face only to have it pool around her cheeks as soon as she moved her head. Shaving the mess looked more attractive every day.
Damn but she hated being at such a disadvantage.
"Well what are you waiting for, Gonzales?" Her tone lacked civility as she spit out the sarcastic nickname she'd tacked on at the end. Speedy might have worked better, but she didn't think he'd appreciate either one.
"Gonzales, like in Speedy? Not funny. My Name is Liam O’Brien. And I'm waiting for you to tell me where I should go."
"I'd love to tell you where to go—"
He chuckled, and the sound worked on her like honey in hot tea. "Okay, let me re-word that last phrase. Where can I take you?" He had warm brown eyes, and when they looked at a person, they smiled without his mouth moving. Not fair. Made him look likable. And he was an idiot.
She stiffened. Her bruised muscles screamed with fury. Okay. Moving wasn't a good idea. Going home to her lonely apartment an even worse idea.
"I guess you'd better take me to my mother's place. She'll be thrilled to look after me." She couldn't hide her dismay at the thought of just how much her mother would be in her glory to have Sadie at her mercy. It's going to be a long day.
Bent over the steering wheel, Romeo started the car and pulled away from the curb with the utmost care, driving like the embodiment of a careful old man. Words escaped before she could stop them. Her darn temper wasn’t safe at the best of times, and this had to be one of the worst. "Oh for Christ sake! We'll never get there at this rate."
