“I’ll get Mr. Smith. He’ll know!” the gardener called up to her.
“No! Wait!” Raina hissed. It was too late, though, she saw in dismay. The man had already galloped off toward the main house. “Shit!” She glanced around. It was one thing to let a halfwit see her in her sports bra, but she had a feeling Mr. Smith, if he came at all, would expect to be able to inspect the pipes.
Unwilling to waltz across the room and dress when she had no idea if the man was still standing at the window, Raina glanced up and saw a rolled shade above the window. Grabbing hold of the bottom edge, she snatched it down--all the way down. She stared blankly at the edge she still had in her hand, stared down at the crumpled, unrolled sheet lying on the floor, and then popped her head up to look across the garden again.
She didn’t see the man she’d glimpsed, or thought she’d seen, before, but the drapes were open and moving slightly. Dropping the shade abruptly, she darted across the room, snatching up the clothes she’d discarded and bundling them in her arms as she headed for the bathroom to dress. Deciding not to bother with her shoes, she strode across the main room when she left the bathroom, grabbed the doorknob and snatched the door open.
There was a wall of man on the other side. Evidently, he’d been just on the point of knocking. Raina nearly had heart failure. “God!” she exclaimed, pressing a palm to her pounding heart. “You scared the piss out of me!”
He tilted his head at her. She couldn’t see his eyes. He was wearing the sunglasses all of them seemed to wear all of the time, but she didn’t need to see his eyes. The movement of his head was enough to assure her he’d surveyed her from head to foot.
She wondered if he was the one that had been standing at the window and if he’d watched her strip tease on the way to the bathroom, but finally decided he probably couldn’t have seen that far into the room even if it had been him.
Especially not with the dark glasses.
What was up with that anyway?
Did they sleep in the damned things?
“Dere is no vater?”
Raina blinked at him several times before her brain translated his heavy accent. Smith? With an accent like that? Where were these guys from anyway?
He moved past her without waiting for an answer, striding toward the bathroom. Her hand still on the doorknob, Raina turned to watch him. His head barely cleared the doorframe--brushed it, in point of fact--and he had to angle his shoulders slightly to fit through the narrow doorway.
Ok. So he was a little more than six feet tall.
Which meant the main man was a lot more than six feet tall, because she distinctly remembered he’d been noticeably taller than the others. Releasing her grip on the doorknob when the weakness in her knees finally subsided, she trailed after him and peered into the bathroom.
He’d crouched beside the tub and was twisting the knobs. The pipes let out another squawk of protest, coughed, and produced a flood of ugly brown water through the tub spout. He studied the flow for several moments and switched the tub to shower.
The pipes rattled and quaked, but no more than a spattering of water emerged.
He came to his feet, studied it frowningly for a moment and finally balled his hand into a fist and hammered on the wall. Raina stared at him blankly a moment and finally bit her lip, trying to keep from smiling.
He glanced at her before she had the chance to straighten her face. After staring at her for a long moment, his lips curled faintly in response.
She gave up trying to hide her amusement. “You think that’ll do it?”
His dark brows twitched together and then the frown vanished. “No pain to try.”
“Hurt,” Raina corrected when she’d translated. “It doesn’t hurt to try. You don’t speak English very well, do you?”
He shrugged, returning his attention to the ‘problem’. After surveying the wall he’d been beating on, he stepped back to examine the wall than enclosed the pipes. “No need. Uders speak same.”
“Oh,” Riana said as he grasped the edge of the panel and ripped it loose. Reaching into the cavity, he pounded on the pipes again until Riana more than half expected them to break and spew water all over the bathroom. “I’m not sure that’s a good ….”
She didn’t get the rest of the sentence out. The pipe broke and water began to gush in every direction, spurting in Mr. Smith’s face and soaking the entire front of his suit. Riana clamped a hand over her mouth as he dove for the handles and tried to shut the water off. Unfortunately, shutting the water off that was running into the tub only increased the volume of water shooting out of the pipes. Within seconds the entire bathroom and both her and her ‘plumber’ were soaked to the skin.
“Shut off valve!” Raina exclaimed suddenly remembering the plumbers in her previous experience had always found one to shut the water off when they needed to.
Clearly, he’d never heard of one, however. He merely glanced at her and looked around for something to try to plug the pipe with. Squeezing past him, she shielded her face from the shooting water the best she could and peered into the dark cavity. There was no sign of a knob of any description, though, and she abandoned the effort.
“Downstairs!” she said. “There has to be one to the apartment!”
She hoped. Abandoning him to try to dam the flood with towels, she hurried across the main room and galloped down the stairs. Water was already pouring through the ceiling of the garage and onto the floor. Skirting the cars, she headed toward the closet at the far end. There she found a washer and dryer and a water heater. There was a blue ‘wing’ type valve closure on one of the pipes leading up from the water heater. Grabbing it with both hands, she twisted it as far as she could in one direction.
“Did that help?” she yelled at the ceiling.
“Hot!”
“Sorry!” Grabbing the valve again, she twisted it in the other direction until it wouldn’t go any further. “How ‘bout now?”
“No hot!”
“There’s still water?”
“Yes! Much vater!”
After looking around a little desperately, she finally discovered there was another valve just above the water heater on a pipe leading up from the back side. She discovered she couldn’t reach it, however. After scanning for something to help her reach it, she finally climbed on top of the washing machine. She still couldn’t reach it without standing on top of the water heater and she had a bad feeling it wouldn’t hold her weight. Finally, she compromised by putting one foot on the water heater and leaning to reach the other valve. Listening to the rush of water in the pipe, she turned the valve in first one direction and then the other until she couldn’t hear the rush anymore. “I think I’ve got it!” she yelled at the ceiling.
“Stop vater?” he asked, directly behind her, giving her a jolt.
His hands settled on her hips as she wobbled precariously. As politely as she could, she pushed his hands away and turned to face him. “I can get down.”
“I help,” he said implacably. He caught her waist and pulled her from her perch before she could object further. She grabbed for his shoulders to steady herself as he lowered her.
He seemed in no great hurry to let go of her once her feet had settled in the puddle on the floor. Trying not to feel alarmed or threatened by the fact that the guy was not only a monster, but as hard as granite all over, she removed her hands from his shoulders and pushed at him. Almost reluctantly, he dropped his hands from her waist and Riana drew a breath of relief.
“You’ve got water on your glasses,” she pointed out, as much to distract herself from her uncomfortable awareness of him as to distract him from his sudden interest in her.
He pulled the sunglasses off, looking down at his soaked clothing for a dry spot to wipe them on.
Seeing his dilemma, Raina said, “I’d dry them for you, but I’ve got the same problem.” She was almost sorry she’d pointed that out. It drew his attention to her at just about the same moment she realized her b
louse was plastered to her skin and transparent enough she could clearly see her bra through it. Worse, the chill of the water, or the excitement of having him whisk her from the top of the water heater as if she weighed no more than a feather, had her nipples sticking out like twin bumpers on a caddy. His gaze zeroed in on the hard little nubs until heat climbed into her cheeks. She forgot all about her embarrassment, however, as he flicked a glance up at her face.
As quickly as he looked down again, frowning as he rubbed the lenses of his glasses on his coat and then put the glasses on, she saw he had the same, really strange looking eyes as Simon Draken.
Were they related? Or was it just some trait of the people from where ever it was they were from?
“I should go check the damage,” she said, abruptly far too keenly aware of how close they were standing and the way the room, tiny already, seemed to have shrunk around them. He was a big man. As accustomed as she was to being around people all the time who were taller than her, she rarely even noticed--unless they were a lot taller than her, and he was. Not only that, but he was just plain big. His hands had very nearly spanned her waist, she recalled, abruptly feeling vaguely uneasy.
She had a small waist. She’d always thought it was her best asset and had worked to keep it that way, but even so, twenty inches was a hell of a hand span--or two handed span.
He followed her back across the garage and then up the stairs. She tried not to feel threatened. There was no reason why she should. He hadn’t been the least bit pushy, hadn’t crowded her space until he’d pulled her off the water heater, but even at that she couldn’t say that he’d purposefully intruded within her personal space. The utility room wasn’t big and he was.
She regarded him with wide-eyed uneasiness when she discovered he’d followed her to the bathroom and stood in the doorway. He met her gaze and then looked away, a faint frown between his brows. “This is mess.”
Distracted, Raina surveyed the room glumly. “So much for a bath,” she muttered. “Guess I won’t be getting one.”
“You come to big house. Stay there. This must fix.”
Her shoulders slumped dejectedly. She really, really preferred staying in the little apartment, mostly because she really, really didn’t like the idea of staying in the ‘big’ house with Mr. Smith and his friends from giant world. It was unnerving enough to be around one of them. Being around all of them made her feel like a cat romping through a lumbering herd of buffalos, in imminent danger of getting squashed if she didn’t watch her step. The alternative, though, was trotting to the big house every time she needed to use the bathroom and that didn’t appeal to her a lot more.
Besides, she reminded herself, Mrs. Higgenbottom stayed in the main house. Shrugging, struggling to shake off her uneasiness, she followed him as he left the bathroom and went to get her suitcases. Fortunately, she hadn’t had the chance to unpack. He took her suitcases from her, shoved one under his arm and caught the handle of the other.
He dwarfed them. If she’d had any doubt about his strength, or his size, being purely the product of an overactive imagination, she no longer did. It was all she could do to drag the things. He had both under one arm, and they practically looked like briefcases--ok, slight exaggeration, like overnight bags instead of full size suitcases. She preceded him from the apartment, surreptitiously peeling her shirt loose from her skin and fanning it to try to dry it a little. He’d used all the towels to mop up the water.
She just hoped she didn’t run into the ‘gang’ on the way to her room.
It made her uneasy when they looked at her. She couldn’t see their eyes and she was pretty sure it was just paranoia, but she felt like they were sizing her up for dinner … and she didn’t want anything that big humping her leg.
Catching her arm as she headed to the main entrance, he guided her through the garden and in the back way, leading her up a narrow back stairway. When they reached the upper floor, she stepped aside to allow him room to exit the stairs and then followed him down the hallway. Opening the last door at the end, he pushed the door wide and indicated with his hand for her to enter. She went in cautiously, glancing around.
She shouldn’t have been surprised that it was as elegant as the rest of the house, but she was. A huge king sized bed was the focal point, mostly, she supposed, because it was the biggest thing in the room. A tall armoire claimed much of the opposite wall. Beyond that, there was a long dresser with a large mirror, a small chest on either side of the bed, and a desk.
Raina looked around the lavishly furnished room uncomfortably. “You sure it’s ok for me to stay here?” she asked doubtfully.
“Yes, you stay here. Shower dere.”
She followed the direction he’d indicated with a nod of his head and then went to the door and opened it. The bath was beautiful, the room huge. Pleasure welled inside her, and then more doubt. “Maybe we should ask Ms. Hatchet … uh … Higgenbottom? I mean, this looks like a guest room. Aren’t there other, smaller rooms?”
He shook his head. “Go. Bath. Is ok.”
She smiled at him tentatively. “Bathe--you should work on your English.”
He straightened from settling her suitcases, smiling faintly. “You teach, yes?”
Riana chuckled, but wryly. “I’m not sure I’d be a very good teacher.”
It was impossible to tell much about his expression with the glasses, but she could tell he was studying her. “You teach you speak. I teach my speak.”
It was easier to translate that time. She was getting used to his broken English. She decided to ignore the suggestion, regardless. He was way too interested. She wasn’t going to encourage him. “How long have y’all been here, anyway?”
He frowned faintly and finally nodded. “Five.”
Raina looked at him curiously. “Five what? Months?”
He looked puzzled. “Full cycle,” he responded finally, extending a finger and drawing a circle in the air.
Raina studied the motion for several moments in complete confusion. “Years?”
He thought it over and nodded.
A shiver went through her. She glanced down at her wet clothes and decided that was reason enough to be shivering. “Uh … I guess I’ll just go get that bath and get some dry clothes on.”
He didn’t move. After chewing her lip for a moment, Raina finally decided he’d get the idea that it was time to leave when she went into the bathroom.
She hoped he got the idea.
When she’d locked the door, she moved to the shower to turn it on. A heavy blast of water shot forth instantly and relief flooded her. Stripping off her wet clothes while she waited for the water to warm up, she kicked the pile into a corner and finally climbed in. Pure bliss filled her as the heated water beat down on her, washing away the chill from her wet clothes and the tiredness and tension from her muscles. It felt so good, she almost hated to get out.
Finally, reflecting that there were bound to be some really pissed off people if she used up all the hot water, she shut the water off and climbed out. A small linen closet yielded a stack of fluffy towels--huge fluffy towels. Ordinarily, she wrapped her wet hair in one towel and used a second to dry herself, but the towels were way too big to form a turban. She settled for scrubbing the towel over her wet hair until she’d gotten most of the water out and then wrapped it around her like a sarong.
A jolt went through her when she stepped out of the bathroom intent on grabbing clothes from her suitcase.
Mr. Smith was standing directly across from the bathroom, stark naked.
Chapter Four
Raina let out a shriek of surprise and dropped her towel. His head swiveled in her direction the moment she yelped, but otherwise he didn’t look the least bit disconcerted. He paused to watch her with keen interest while she fumbled frantically to get the damned towel around her again. Finally, she gave up and clutched it in front of her.
“Holy shit! Holy shit!” she exclaimed, holding one hand up in front of her to block he
r view of him. He’d looked huge with clothes on. Without them she was sure she’d never seen that much bare skin. “Oh my fucking god! This is your room?”
He nodded. “Is ok,” he said finally, dragging his gaze from her with an obvious effort and reaching into the closet for a shirt.
As if that was at all helpful when his genitals were just hanging there.
Actually, not just hanging. The lethal weapon that hung nearly halfway down his thigh was stirring to life right before her eyes. She lowered her hand to block the view, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off him. “No hell it isn’t ok, damn it! I don’t know where you got the idea that I’d sleep with you, but I’m damned sure not going to!”
He glanced at the bed. A smile slowly curled his lips and then his lips parted in a grin. His golden eyes, no longer hidden behind the ‘shades’ gleamed with a definite predatory glint. “No sleep.”
“No fuck, either!” Riana snapped. She didn’t mind a challenge, but Mr. Great Dane might as well get it through his head right off that he wasn’t going to be shoving that thing up this toy poodle’s ass!
He chuckled. Obviously that word was familiar to him even as limited as his vocabulary was. And why wasn’t she surprised?
He looked vaguely disappointed for all that. “No fuck either,” he repeated, nodding agreeably.
Glaring at him, Riana grabbed hold of the handle of one of her suitcases and dragged it off the bed. As angry as she was, it didn’t lend her enough strength to hold the heavy thing. It hit the floor, nearly jerking her down with it.
He strode toward her. Raina’s eyes widened. Releasing her grip on the suitcase, she put up a hand to hold him off. He stopped as her palm flattened against his belly, stared down at it a moment and then lifted his gaze to meet hers. His black brows snapped together. He settled one of his hands lightly over hers. “No ‘fraid,” he said in a soothing voice. “I go. You stay here.”
Disconcerted, Raina looked at him doubtfully. “You’re not … you weren’t planning on sleeping in here?”
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