The glass must still be in there and she’d likely just lodged it deeper.
By now a crimson blotch had blossomed on the front of her white t-shirt. A wave of nausea hit her and the bar began to spin. She didn’t do well with blood. Especially her own. She grabbed the edge of the counter hoping to right the world again. And then her legs turned to jello…
He would have preferred a shot or two of whiskey… or ten, but she seemed to want to pour him a beer. She didn’t look like she needed difficulties tonight. He’d intended to sit at a table where he could have some privacy but had changed his mind when he saw the girl working behind the bar.
With lush curves, a creamy complexion and blond hair pulled into a pony tail, she reminded him of a thirties pin up girl. She couldn’t be more different than the women he usually went for. She was… interesting.
Different.
But sexy as hell, even if her smile seemed a little jaded.
And although he wasn’t normally into one night stands, this would be the night to have one – given the opportunity.
He’d travelled to Alpine Creek, Colorado, not to ski, not to party or close a deal, but to bail his twin sister out of jail and get her admitted into rehab.
This would be her fifth time in three years. But he couldn’t give up on her. As long as she didn’t give up on herself, then neither would he.
And as much as he hated it sometimes, she was a part of him.
And she knew it.
He’d always be there for her. Elliot had always been her defender, her confidante.
His parents and brother had abandoned Ellen after her third stint failed. They’d washed their hands of her. Well almost.
They would always be tied to one another, not because of blood but because of the money. A long held family trust assured all of them would have money to live on, and then some, for the rest of their lives.
Even Ellen.
If only she would stop spending it on drugs. The mere thought made him a little sick inside. All day long he’d been dealing with social workers, doctors and of course, Ellen’s lawyer. His sister’s attitude wasn’t exactly inspiring.
Wanting to think about anything but why he was here, he flicked his eyes up and down as the sweet little bartender turned away to fill his beer. His cock stirred in interest. Now he could appreciate her hourglass curves from behind.
Oh, yeah, she would do nicely. Her ass filled those jeans out perfectly.
She’d asked him something, but when she turned around he got distracted by the amount of blood on the front of her shirt.
“You’re bleeding.” It took a moment for her to process his words, and when she did, and then looked down, her eyes kind of glazed over.
He’d seen that look before.
He leapt off his stool and dashed around and through the opening of the bar just in time to keep her from falling. With one arm around her waist, he helped her to a table. Dazed, she allowed him to assist her into one of the chairs.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. She moved as though she were in quicksand.
He crouched down and pulled her head forward. “Breathe deep.”
She rested her forehead on her hands. “I’ll be fine. I’m okay.”
Meanwhile, blood was gradually drenching her shirt.
The male server, who’d been standing around at the bar a few minutes before, rushed over. When he saw the blood-stained t-shirt he gasped, “Holy shit, Are you okay, Noel?” And then to Elliot, “What happened?”
“The glass,” he responded tersely. “She needs a few towels or wash cloths.” Elliot didn’t look at the other server to see that he had left. He’d spied the shard of glass embedded in her skin and didn’t want to lose sight of it. Reaching into his pocket, he removed the utility knife he carried with him and opened it to a miniature needle nose pliers.
“I see the glass. Hold still,” he ordered. With one hand on her shoulder, to keep her from moving, Elliot reached forward and gently grasped the shard with the pliers. It had buried itself deeper than he would have imagined and it required a few cautious twists to work free.
She cringed and then dropped her forehead to his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she kept murmuring. “I’m sorry, just give me a moment.”
With her head leaning into his chest now, his lust from earlier morphed into something slightly different. It was still there, of course, but diluted with an unfamiliar protective instinct. Something he really didn’t want to deal with right now.
His hand was trapped on her leg, his other still grasping her shoulder. He could back away but she rested heavily against him. She’d likely topple to the floor.
Turning his head, her hair tickled his neck. It was soft, like the rest of her, and she smelled girly, of perfumed berries.
Drops of blood dripped onto the floor.
“You could probably use a stitch or two.”
But she sat back in her chair and shook her head. “I need to get back behind the bar. I’ll be fine.”
To which he pointedly stared at the blood now covering most of her t-shirt.
At that moment, the waiter reappeared holding several white rags. “Damn, Noel, that looks bad.”
Noel, perfect name for her by the way, glanced down at her chest and then quickly away. Not one for blood, apparently. “I’ll just put my jacket on.” She seriously intended to go back to work.
She sprung from the chair and then went all wobbly again.
“Whoa.” Elliot rose and grabbed her by the shoulders. “I don’t think this is what people have in mind when ordering Bloody Mary’s.” He then turned to the waiter. “Is there a manager on duty? She needs a few stitches, and probably a tetanus as well.”
Her co-worker grimaced and scratched his head. “Not this week. I suppose Lisa and I could make our own drinks for a while… if nobody orders anything fancy.”
Elliot took the rags from the waiter and pressed one against Noel’s chest. “Get her jacket. I’ll run her to the emergency room.” It was obvious nobody else was going to step up to the task. Unfortunately, Elliot was all too familiar with the local hospital – located next door to the detox center.
CHAPTER TWO
“I can’t go to a hospital.” God, it would cost her a fortune. Without insurance, she had no idea what they would charge her. For certain, though, it would be more than she could afford.
But Mr. Bossy-But-Fantastic-Eyes ignored her completely.
As did everybody else.
Rory had fetched her coat and know-it-all customer pulled it over her arms. “I can’t afford it.” She pushed his hand away from her chest and clutched the cloth over the cut herself.
“That’s ridiculous.” He steered her towards the hotel lobby and then out the front door. She hadn’t clocked out! And the money she made change with, her bank, remained in the drawer! Her tip jar! She tried to stop her feet from moving but he continued dragging her outside. “File a claim with your employer.”
Oh, that would go over well. The last person injured “on the job” had lost half her shifts. And she’d practically cut off a finger!
At least it was the off season and the bar promised to be slower than normal tonight.
She drew her coat closer around her. Although ski season was past, warmer days hadn’t arrived and the night temperatures still dropped below freezing. No matter the season, weather up here could be brutal.
But tonight, it was a good thing. The frigid air served to rouse her from the fog of confusion she’d fallen into. What was she doing? Planting her feet firmly on the frozen ground, she refused to take another step.
“Seriously, I can’t go to the hospital. I’ll be fine.” She steadied herself by grabbing hold of a nearby truck and gave him a toothy smile. “See. I’m fine.” But why was her hand wet?
Blood had seeped right through the towel and covered her palm in red sticky goo. The smell of copper made her head spin again. Thank God they were outside. She inhaled the fresh air and then,
suddenly airborne, let out a squeal.
“What are you doing?” Clutching the bloodied cloth with one hand, she awkwardly wrapped her other around his neck. He had swooped her into his arms and was carrying her across the parking lot.
Pure masculine strength could be felt in the chords of his neck. How was it this man was simply carrying her away from the hotel? She didn’t even know his name! What if he was some serial killer?
Because even serial killers could be good looking. Ted Bundy had been proof of that. Just last week she’d watched a documentary about him. A few decades ago he’d escaped from the jail not far from here.
Supposedly, though, he had been charismatic.
This man carrying her was about as charming as one of the clerks at the Driver’s license bureau. “What’s your name? I don’t even know your name and I’m supposed to let you drive off with me?”
They were up-close and personal now, their faces just a few inches apart. And damned, if he didn’t have lashes longer than hers. And that thick black springy hair had felt soft when she wrapped her arm around him, obviously he would use only the best hair products.
He even smelled rich.
She had no idea what kind of cologne he wore but it had to be expensive. Nothing from Walmart could smell so divine.
Or maybe it was just him.
At least she couldn’t smell the blood anymore. He glanced sideways, sending that zing into her gut again. “Elliot. Elliot Stafford. You’re welcome to call the hotel to verify. They have my driver’s license number on file.”
He’d carried her across the parking lot and he wasn’t even breathing heavy.
Hmm… He sure didn’t look like an ‘Elliot.’ And his voice, not only did her heart jump this time, but her girly bits were tingling. Rich assholes named Elliot shouldn’t be allowed to be so sexy. It just wasn’t fair.
“But I don’t have my phone. I forgot my phone!” Oh, shit. She never went anywhere without it. What if Carley tried calling her?
“You’re welcome to use mine.” As he said the words, he lowered her feet to the ground and reached into his pocket. The beeping of the car beside them made her jump. It beeped again and he opened the passenger door.
But she couldn’t just climb in… that documentary…
Holding out her hand, she demanded his phone. Looking a little annoyed, he searched through his pockets before pulling it out, unlocking it, and handing it over.
She entered the number one handed and the hotel clerk, Alex, picked it up before it rang a second time.
Sure enough. Mr. Elliot Stafford was legit.
Noel informed her coworker of what happened and asked Alex to call the cops if she didn’t show up for work tomorrow. Even so, she would be back tonight. She had to drop her bank in the safe, get her tips, close out the register.
Elliot Stafford rolled those amazing eyes of his when she mentioned the cops. Feeling only slightly better about him, she ended the call.
“Now get in, before we both freeze to death.”
Notwithstanding his high-handedness, he was pretty damn gentle. He touched her as though she were somebody special. With one hand on her head, and the other holding her elbow, he eased her into the passenger seat and then considerately handed her the seatbelt.
Which, was, she had to admit, pretty sweet.
She wasn’t used to that. She was the one who took care of everything. Nobody had taken care of her since her mom died, three years ago, leaving her to care for her, now, seventeen-year-old sister.
Who usually texted her at least ten times a night.
In fact, Carly had sent a text right before this Elliot dude sat down at the bar. Noel had planned on responding after serving him. But now her phone was just sitting there, on the register. Undefended, all alone.
Noel hoped either Rory or Lisa would put it somewhere safe. Lisa was a little self-centered and Rory, well, he simply didn’t pay attention to those sorts of details.
After Elliot climbed in and started up the vehicle (keyless, of course), he leaned over and peered at her. “Are you still bleeding?”
His potent self-assurance and virility was even more intoxicating within the confines of the car.
What had he asked? Oh, yeah, still bleeding…
Based upon the condition of her hand, she assumed it was. If she moved the cloth now, blood could possibly drip on his pristine leather interior. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe I could just wait, you know, see if it stops bleeding on its own.” She didn’t want to go to the ER but it was kind of freaking her out now. She couldn’t remember a cut ever bleeding so much…
And now it seemed like he was finally listening to her, finally comprehending that she really, really didn’t want to go to a hospital. “I’d advise differently – that glass cut pretty deep. Do you remember the last time you had a tetanus shot?”
Hell, she hadn’t been to see a doctor since high school. And that had been ten years ago. She’d had that one physical so that she could play volleyball.
“Uh, tenth grade?”
He threw the car into gear and backed out.
“You never answered my question,” Noel blurted out. She felt weird, riding in his car, not knowing anything about him. She turned sideways and rested her cheek against the seat. At least this way she could study him freely. All logical thought seemed to evaporate when he pinned his gaze on her.
He took his eyes off the road for a moment, glancing at her sideways. “What question?”
“Did you just get into town today? Remember?” Thinking back to when she had asked him, she added, “You never got to drink your beer.”
“No, yesterday. And I didn’t want the beer anyway. I wanted a shot.” Hmm… he was a wealth of information.
“Why’d you order one then?”
He glanced at her again, this time with that mysterious sneer she couldn’t quite decipher. “You wanted to pour me a beer. Get me out of your hair until you’d cleaned out the ice bin.”
Oh.
Huh.
So, he’d been… being nice?
She might try this again – her witty bar conversation – to keep herself from feeling too uncomfortable. “So, you here for business?”
No answer.
He peered left, right, left again, and then turned onto the highway leading into town. He didn’t speak until the car was at full speed. “Not really.”
Oh. “Fun then?” Except ski season was over and the summer tourists wouldn’t start showing up until all the mud dried.
Again, with the pause.
Well, buddy, you’re the one who insisted upon this little outing.
Except he was going out of his way for her. No doubt a trip to the hospital hadn’t been on his agenda tonight. And he’d said he’d really wanted a shot…
Maybe she was too nosy for her own good.
“No. Not for fun.” He provided an answer finally.
Oka-a-y. Hmm. “Where are you from?” Noel hated silences. She wished she didn’t, but found herself searching for something to say every time conversations lulled.
Her mom had been that way and it had embarrassed her sometime.
Maybe she should just sit quietly until he dropped her off. Oh, hell! She was gonna have to call a cab to get back to the hotel. Unless she could convince the shuttle driver to come and pick her up.
But Alfred, the driver, was a stickler for the rules. Probably wouldn’t be willing to shuttle an employee.
“New York.” He filled the silence in for her. “The city.”
She wasn’t going to ask him anything else. She turned to face forward again and closed her eyes. She wasn’t feeling so hot.
“Hey, you okay?” His voice, so detached sounding earlier, now held a hint of concern. For God’s sake, she felt tears burning.
“Yeah.”
Except she wasn’t. She couldn’t lose her job. She couldn’t afford to take on anymore debt. And she wasn’t going to be able to pay a cab to bring her back to the hotel.
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And her phone was back at the bar.
“A little nauseous,” she admitted. At a sharp glance from him she held up a hand. “No need to worry, I’m not gonna barf in your car.”
She didn’t think so anyway.
“It’s a rental.” He didn’t sound so concerned now. Annoyed with her would more aptly describe his tone. “I wasn’t worried about the damn car.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this. Really.” She didn’t know what to say. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” Maybe he would pull over, make a u-turn and they could forget all of this had even happened.
He slowed down, but not to turn around. They had arrived at the small but modern hospital. Any ski town worth its salt had excellent facilities for all the ski bunnies with torn ligaments and broken legs. And then there were the idiots who drank too much, got themselves dehydrated and then succumbed to altitude sickness.
This was going to cost a fortune.
He pulled up to the front and parked. Damn, damn, damn! Why couldn’t he just drop her off and go on about his business?
Noel fumbled to unhook her seatbelt while he climbed out and came around to her door.
When he assisted her to the sidewalk, she tried to pull herself together. “Thank you, Mr. Stafford, Elliot.” And then she waved her clean hand a little, hoping he would get the message. If he left her here, she’d just sit for a while and then try to find a ride back to the hotel.
Ignoring her, he locked the car with the press of a button and proceeded to assist her into the hospital.
His arm felt warm around her. It felt good to lean on him a little, too.
“You didn’t think I would just leave you here, did you?” His breath felt hot on her cheek as he spoke. Snow was coming down now. Big fluffy flakes, not unusual for early April.
The door to the hospital whooshed open automatically and a male attendant in scrubs approached them. The look of horror on his face reminded her of the ridiculous amount of blood covering her shirt. “Wait here, I’ll get a wheelchair.” He held out a halting hand and turned around before Noel could protest.
Mile High Madness: Six Colorado Contemporary Romances Page 12
