by Tina Folsom
“Thank you. I didn’t see … the car ran a red light.”
He nodded. “I’m glad I was there.”
“I didn’t see you,” she said, her voice a hotbed of caution as she eased farther away from him now. “There was nobody behind me. I would have heard you.”
Perceptive human. “I was just crossing from over there. The car’s headlights probably blinded you, so you didn’t see me.”
He rose slowly and reached a hand out to her.
Leila gave him a doubtful look. “Thank you.” She made a motion to get up, declining his hand, but the moment her right leg touched the ground, her knee buckled and she cried out in pain.
Aiden didn’t hesitate and supported her by putting an arm around her waist, making her lean against him. Heat from her body seeped into his, igniting his cells instantly.
“Brace yourself on my shoulders,” he instructed as he crouched down. Her elegant hands dug into his shoulders.
He reached for her foot. “I’m going to check if it’s broken, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Slowly, he stroked his hands over her ankle and tested her range of motion. She winced immediately.
“Ouch!”
“I’m sorry. It’ll be just a second,” he assured her as he allowed his supernatural senses to penetrate her skin and reach to the bone. It was intact. There was no break, merely a sprain. Relieved, he exhaled. “It’s not broken.”
“How do you know? Are you a doctor?” Leila looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.
Aiden released her foot and rose, making sure he kept supporting her weight. “No, I’m not a doctor. But your ankle is just sprained. You’re very lucky.”
“Thank you again.”
“You should put some ice on it right away.”
“I’ll do that when I get home.”
“No, I mean right now. Even a half hour delay can make it worse.” He pointed toward the end of the block where the lights of an Irish Pub flickered invitingly. “They should have some ice down there.”
What the fuck was he doing? He shouldn’t engage any more with her than he already had. If he were smart, he’d leave her now. But apparently tonight his mind was occupied with other things, lust being one of them, the inexplicable need to get to know her being another.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll just get a cab to take me home.”
He glanced up and down the street. “You won’t find a cab around here this time of night. We can call one from the pub—after you’ve put some ice on your ankle.”
And thanked your rescuer.
He could vividly imagine what kind of thanks he’d prefer: a kiss from those pert lips. Why did he suddenly want that when he knew he should stay away from her?
“Okay, I think I can walk that far,” Leila finally conceded.
“Walk?” He shook his head. Not as long as he was here to lend a hand. “I don’t think you should walk.”
Ignoring her protest, he lifted her into this arms and strode toward the pub.
“But …”
When he looked into her ocean blue eyes, her eyelids suddenly fluttered, and she lowered them quickly. Color flushed her cheeks.
With every step, her body rubbed against his, and despite the clothing that separated them, he felt a rush of excitement course through him. The contact was intense and real, the payoff torturing, as the bulge in his jeans could attest.
He noticed how she studied his neck and the muscles that flexed underneath his tight tee. It seemed she didn’t want to lift her eyes to peruse his face so openly. Not that he would mind being studied by her. Hell, there wasn’t anything he could think of right now that he would mind her doing.
With his foot, Aiden pushed the door to the pub open and was glad to see that it was half empty. Ignoring the inquisitive stares of the few patrons, he lowered Leila to a bench next to the window and lifted her leg onto it.
“Stay here, I’ll get some ice,” he instructed and went to the bar.
The bartender looked first at Aiden, then past him. “Something wrong?”
“My friend twisted her ankle. Could you spare some crushed ice and a clean dish towel?” he asked and put a twenty on the counter. “And two Jamesons, neat.”
“Yep, women and their heels,” he responded and took a towel from behind him, filling it with ice.
“Her heels weren’t to blame. A car ran a red light and nearly killed her.” He shuddered as the words left his lips.
“Fuckin’ drunk drivers,” the bartender hissed. “Tell ya one thing, when I see one of my regulars having too much, I confiscate their car keys. Don’t care how much they curse me for it.” He handed him the towel. “Here. I’ll bring the Jamesons to your table.”
“Thanks.”
Aiden took the ice-filled towel and walked back to his charge who was sitting up straight, leaning against the wood-paneled wall, her leg stretched out over the bench. He sat down at her feet.
“This should make you feel much better soon.”
He rolled the towel into a long tube and snaked it around her ankle, tying it at the ends so it held in place. When he looked up, he collided with her gaze.
“You’ve done this before,” she approved.
He smiled. “I used to get into a lot of scraps when I was younger.”
Cloak Warrior children didn’t heal automatically like adult Cloak Warriors did. They needed to be tended in the same way human children did. They were, however, immune to human diseases such as measles and mumps, but broken bones, cuts and bruises would leave their mark the same way they did on mortal children.
“Here are your two Jamesons, neat,” the bartender announced and set two glasses with amber liquid on the small table next to them. “Cheers.”
Aiden nodded to him then looked back at Leila, motioning toward the whiskey. “To wash away the shock.”
SIX
Leila took the glass her rescuer handed her and hesitated. Was this a wise decision? She was a lightweight when it came to liquor, and this man was a complete stranger. A very handsome stranger, she corrected. One who had saved her life by the looks of it. Had he not pushed her out of the way so quickly, the car would have hit her full on and she would have been tomorrow’s headline. Promising Researcher Killed in Hit-And-Run Accident. She shuddered inwardly.
Maybe she did need a drink now that reality hit home.
“My name is Aiden,” the hottie said. A name that suited him.
“Leila.”
He clinked his glass to hers. “Shall we drink to good luck, Leila?”
“To good luck.” She sipped from the whiskey. As it made its way down her throat, her skin began to burn, but it wasn’t unpleasant enough for her to regret it. Warmth spread in her body, making her instantly feel better despite her throbbing ankle.
When she bent toward the table to set her glass down, Aiden took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers in the process. She caught him looking at her at the same time. His gaze was intense, his dark eyes seeming even darker than when he’d returned from the bar with the towel in hand. Odd, how a person’s eye color could change like that.
At the same time, she was unable to break the contact. Her mouth went dry as her gaze fell onto his parted lips. She’d never felt so aware of another person. He was right there, yet too far away to touch him, while he could put his hand on her leg at any time if he wanted to. Would he? She shook off the errant thought. What was wrong with her? Clearly, the shock of nearly being run over by a car had scrambled her mind. Otherwise why would she suddenly fantasize about kissing a stranger?
And why was her heart beating faster, her chest heaving and her tongue snaking out to moisten her dry lips? As if anticipating a mouthwatering treat. Her stomach clenched in concert with her breaths, likewise expecting something delicious. Her palms felt sweaty, but she refrained from wiping them on her pants, not wanting to draw attention to their traitorous state. If she didn’t know any better she’d say she
was behaving like a high school girl who’d just seen the quarterback of her football team stepping out of the locker room in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.
Aiden was fully dressed, yet he had the same effect on her. Her reaction to him was unusual for her. She’d never been one to see any appeal in a one-night stand, but with this man, she would throw caution to the wind, just the once.
“Thank you again,” she said quickly, not wanting the silence between them to stretch even longer and turn to awkwardness. It was bad enough that she was drooling all over him. As if she’d never been out with a handsome man.
Handsome? Make that sinfully gorgeous, she amended.
His dark hair was short and straight. By the looks of it, it was thick, and she was sure she could confirm her assumption if only she could thread her fingers through it. Maybe at the same time, she could test how soft his lips were and what it felt like to rub her fingers over the scar above his brow or over the stubbles that graced his chin.
“It looks like you’re getting your color back.”
He glanced at her cheeks, and she realized how flushed she felt. Was she blushing? At her age, she should be past such sophomoric reactions, but a quick peek to catch her reflection in the window revealed that her face looked indeed a little red.
She found a scapegoat very quickly and had no problem passing blame. “The whiskey.” Leila pointed to the glass on the table. “I’m not used to it.”
“I should have asked you if you wanted something else, but considering the shock you had, I figured whiskey would do the trick. Always helps me.” Aiden took a sip from his glass, clearly savoring the taste before swallowing.
“Yes, the shock,” Leila agreed hastily.
Her hand was still shaking when she smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear that had loosened from her ponytail, but she already felt better. The ice had a numbing effect on her ankle. Unfortunately, the handsomeness of her companion had reduced her brain’s speech center to producing only simple, short sentences. She couldn’t allow this to continue. It was ridiculous. She was a doctor, an intelligent woman and more than capable of speaking to a handsome man in complex sentences. She just had to pull herself together, be her usual confident self again.
“I was working late,” she mumbled then cleared her throat to lend her voice more strength. It worked. “Well, I work late most nights.” What else would she do? She had practically no social life.
“You shouldn’t walk home alone at night. There are all kinds of things that can happen.”
She shrugged. “I was only walking the few blocks to the subway.”
“The next subway is five blocks from here—five long and pretty deserted blocks, if I may add.” He clicked his tongue. “That’s risky.”
“I’m not worried. I’m armed.” She’d grown up in the city and knew to be prepared.
He raised a surprised eyebrow. “Gun?”
She dug into her shoulder bag and pulled out her weapon of choice, waving it triumphantly. “Mace.”
But Aiden seemed unimpressed. “You know how easy it is for a man who knows what he’s doing to rip this out of your hand and use it against you?”
She waved him off. “I know how to use it.” She’d been carrying the spray for years.
“Do you?” There was an odd glint in his eyes when he made a sudden movement. Before she could react, he snatched the mace out of her hand and held it up.
Shock coursed through her, and from the corner of her eye she saw the bartender stop in mid-movement. A sense of panic gripped her even though there were other people in the bar.
“See?” Aiden asked. “See how easy it was for me to disarm you?”
Her heart still pounding, she stared at him with widened eyes. This had not been on her predictability list. “But ... but I wasn’t prepared in here. We’re in a bar.”
He shook his head and placed the can of mace back in her hand. “It can happen anywhere. You’ll always have to be prepared.”
She’d always thought she was, but this stranger had just proven to her that she was nowhere near close to dealing with the unpredictable. She made a mental note to work on that, how, she wasn’t quite sure. “You had an advantage because I showed it to you.”
She felt the need to defend herself, not wanting to come across as a weak woman who needed a man’s protection. She didn’t need anybody. For many years now, she’d taken care of herself and built a well-ordered life.
He smiled and put his hand over hers. Instinctively she tightened her fingers around the can.
Aiden nodded appreciatively. “Good, you’re learning. Because anybody could be an attacker.”
“Even you? Even though you saved my life?” She had no idea why she asked him that, her lips forming words without her permission.
He briefly squeezed her hand, then severed the contact, a strange look on his face. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
Leila lifted her chin. “And why should I trust you?” Had he not just shown her that he could attack her if he wanted to? She shouldn’t have let herself be fooled by his handsome face.
He leaned closer and reached for her free hand. His eyes penetrated her as if he was trying to see deep into her. When his lips parted, he did so only to whisper so quietly she barely heard it, “Maybe you shouldn’t.”
Then he pulled her hand to his lips and pressed a warm kiss on the back of it. When he let go, a smile played around his lips. Her belly fluttered excitedly in response. Now she understood. It had all been a joke. He’d just pulled her leg.
She drew in a breath of relief. As she exhaled, a laugh burst from her lungs.
He stared at her in surprise. “What’s so funny?”
“You. You were trying to scare me, but you couldn’t keep a straight face. Do you always do this to charm women?”
“I was charming you?”
She preferred not to answer that question.
Aiden smirked. “I guess you found me out.” For a moment, she could see the little boy he must have once been.
“How come you know so much about safety and stuff? Are you some sort of security consultant?”
“Not exactly.”
His short answer caught her by surprise. He was probably the only man she knew who didn’t want to talk about himself. “Military?” God, she hoped not.
He hesitated as if contemplating what to tell her. Was he going to dish up a lie? Hell, why was she so suspicious? “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s f—”
“I’m a bodyguard.”
Of their own doing, her eyes instantly roamed his body. Yes, he was tall, and when he’d carried her, it had seemed without effort. She’d felt his muscles flex beneath her. Yet he wasn’t just muscle and strength. He had speed too. The quickness with which he’d grabbed her and moved her out of the way of the speeding car, had been a blur.
Excitement and disappointment collided inside her. He was a man with a dangerous job, somebody so very different from herself, from her ordered life. A man not to get involved with no matter how hot he was and how much she owed him. She didn’t need to add another person to her life who she would worry about. She worried enough about her parents. That took all her energy. There was nothing left for a man who would be gone for days on end, likely without a word. No, she would never be able to do that.
The one-night-stand she had contemplated only minutes earlier lost its appeal. She didn’t want to be tempted to want more. Because things happened, and what if a one-night-stand turned into two nights, a week or a month? It was the same reason she never dated a policeman, fireman, or anybody who was in the military. A bodyguard fell into the same category.
With regret she allowed her lips to form her next words. “I should call a cab.”
He seemed jolted by her answer for a moment. Then he emptied the last of his drink and looked into his glass. “I’ll make sure you’ll get home safely.”
SEVEN
Aiden insisted on waiting for the cab with
her. As he helped her into the taxi, his mood was gloomy.
Why did it bother him that Leila couldn’t get away from him fast enough? He should be relieved. Wasn’t that why he’d warned her in the first place? He’d become angry when he’d realized that she thought her little can of mace gave her protection, when in truth, any demon seeing her with it would simply laugh in her face.
Leila’s rejection suited him fine, his mind insisted. The more distance he could keep between him and her, the better. They weren’t friends, and she should never make the mistake of seeing him as such. Neither should he want anything from her but her compliance, so he could protect her. End of story.
No, it’s only the beginning, his inner voice insisted while his heartbeat accelerated in agreement.
Not wanting his thoughts to go farther down that road, he watched the taxi disappear around the next corner and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Manus’s number and started walking in the direction his car was parked.
“Yeah?” his second answered immediately. Of all people, the council had assigned Manus to him.
“I need you to check on a license plate for me. My charge was nearly run over by a car tonight.”
“No shit.”
“Could be a coincidence ...”
Manus snorted. “Since when do you believe in coincidences?”
Manus was right. He didn’t.
“What’s the plate number?”
Aiden recited it from memory. “I didn’t get the last number. There was some dirt on the plate, obscuring it.” He’d only had a split second to read the plates as the car had whizzed past him. But his preternatural senses had picked up what they could anyway.
“What kind of car was it?”
“Toyota, looked like a Corolla.” A very indistinct car, like millions of others.
“Give me a few hours. I’ll text you what I find.”
“Good, I’m going to Leila’s place now—”
“Ah, it’s Leila now. Interesting.”
Aiden’s hand tightened around his phone, anger surging. “Dr. Cruickshank’s apartment,” he corrected through clenched teeth.
