Just loud enough for her to hear, he said, “You’re pretty good at getting what you want, aren’t you?” However, he was thinking that shoes or no, he would not have a problem waiting for her, any time, any place. He sensed it would be worth it.
Ana’s answer was a purposely-loud laugh that came from behind the closed door. “Sure am,” she said, and then he heard the shower running.
Ben sat in a chair listening to the sound of water for a few minutes then decided to check for his phone again. He took his jacket off the chair and saw the phone lodged at the back of the cushion. It had survived, but the battery was run down. He had wanted to call a taxi but would have to use the room phone. First, he had to settle with Ana about the interview, which now seemed even more shallow and unimportant after what had happened to them. But it was the best excuse to see her again. The pain in his shoulder made him angry, angry that he now had to deal with this complication in his well-planned life.
He looked around the room for the pain reliever, but couldn’t find it. He called out, “Ana, when you come out would you bring the Ibuprofen, if you can find it in there?”
She answered that it was there and opened the door slightly to toss it onto the bed. With her towel wrapped head barely visible in the small opening, she said, “Your first stop has to be the druggist, or somewhere they have slings. If you don’t, you’ll pay for it later!”
Ben knew she was right, but what he failed to realize was that his resistance to her nurturing was just a way of hiding his fondness for the extra attention. He helped himself to the pills and washed them down with bottled water from the bedside table. He knew that he needed an ice pack, but was anxious to get out of the hotel room and away from the vague tension he was experiencing. He was locked in a private space with Ana, one with a bed. Even if she were interested, the timing was wrong. He fully intended to get closer to her, but preferred to have two good arms with which to do it.
He made his way back to the window and checked below for taxi stands, but soon realized that the room was located at the back of the building. Surely he would have no difficulty finding one nearby, once he could get things settled with Ana. He noticed that the pain in his shoulder was settling down a bit, but his body felt stiff and sore from the assault. The pills hadn’t helped that. Ben realized that he hadn’t checked himself out and was sure there must be some bruising on his ribcage. He also noticed that his right knee was reluctant to bend. Whether or not he should see a doctor was the last thing he wanted to consider. He would go home and see if some ice would put him right.
While deep in thought, he heard Ana come out of the bathroom. He turned to see her wrapped in a towel and rummaging through her suitcase. “I really won’t be a minute once I find something to wear,” she said, and then pulled out a pair of jeans, holding them high as if she had found a prize. She dug for a sweater and dashed back into the bathroom. Shortly she emerged looking fresh and well put together, other than her bare feet. From another bag she pulled out a pair of designer sneakers and quickly put them on.
Ben liked the casual-looking Ana. Her jeans were slim cut and fit her perfectly. He noticed immediately that the pink sweater was short enough to allow a complete view of her shapely derrière. The cause of the vague tension he had been experiencing was becoming clear, and he realized that he really had to get out of the room before he did something stupid and premature. He found himself moving toward the door, preparing to escape the environment, as well as his feelings. He wasn’t used to pacing himself when it came to women. His philosophy had always been one of seizing an opportunity, and he had the looks and charm that brought about such opportunities with regularity. But with Ana, something told him to take it slow and just let it unfold naturally. He had always made an assumption of success with women, and the air of self- assurance he presented had most always worked in his favor. It was different this time. Ben was forced to consider that Ana might not fancy him.
She noticed his movement and said, “You seem anxious to leave. Was it something I said?” He could tell she was joking, and just smiled due to lack of a response. She continued, “You know we haven’t set up an appointment for tending to our business at hand. I don’t think today would be a good idea. You need to rest a while longer.”
Ben answered, “There isn’t much I can do other than rest until I have full use of my arm. I could certainly talk to you, but I won’t be able to drive until I can lose the sling.” He tried to rotate his shoulder just a bit and uttered an expletive under his breath. “It’s lucky that I took a taxi to the pub last night,” he said, reaching with his good arm for the leather jacket resting on the chair nearest him.
Ana could see that he was ready to go and quickly said, “How do I know that you’ll go straight to the pharmacy for advice on a sling?”
He held the jacket up in the air and said, “All I can do is swear on this, my best and faithful friend.”
Ana shook her head in mock-disapproval and asked, “Seriously? You must not make friends very easily if your jacket rates that high.” She observed that it did appear to have had a lot of use. An unbidden scenario distracted her: Ben’s arms around her, her cheek against the jacket, and the heady scent of leather complementing his very obvious masculinity. With an undetectable sigh she returned her attention to their conversation.
“The right leather jacket can be the link to a man’s identity, his sense of who he is. Mine has been through a lot with me and hasn’t let me down. You women feel naked without a purse, and some men feel that way without their leather jacket. At least for me it’s just a jacket … not a flashy sports car or a flask of whiskey as my constant companion.”
“Understood. No more comments … maybe. And I must admit, it definitely does suit you.” A teasing little smile crossed her face. Ben saw the sexy glint in her dark, expressive eyes, and as he was enjoying her willingness to spar with him, a potent surge of desire ran straight through him. She would be a welcome challenge.
“Well then, let’s ease you into that precious jacket so we can get on with day,” Ana said, taking the jacket from him and gently slipping the sleeve onto the arm of his sore shoulder.
“So we can get on with it? I don’t need a nanny to get me home,” he said, grimacing as she finished getting him into the jacket.
Ana wondered if Ben was defending his independence or just being snarky. “I know you don’t need my help. You could have conducted your day without wearing it. I’m sure you’re a regular one-arm wonder.” She stepped back, arms across her chest, looked him straight in the eye and said, “I’ll give you your freedom just as soon as we get you into a sling. Deal with it.” She paused and then added, “Just don’t bite the hand that brings you ice and helps you put on your magic jacket.”
“Sorry— I’m just not used to limitations or having people help me, especially a woman. I didn’t intend to take it out on you. I don’t know you well enough to be free to act like an ass.” His attitude was compliant, but his eyes expressed the enjoyment he took in her talent for sparring with him. She didn’t back down. He liked that as well.
Ana stuffed her belongings back into her purse, pulled the strap over her shoulder, and opened the door. “After you, sir, and no more snarky behavior,” she said rather too brightly, and Ben shook his head in mock-frustration as he closed the door behind them.
* * *
Shifts at the hotel desk had changed, and the concierge on duty was a young woman, tall and slim, with a bleached blonde ponytail that was at odds with her business-like navy blazer and gray skirt. She was standing at attention behind the counter, having been engaged in conversation by a rather elderly guest. Ana commented that the concierge from the previous evening would have raised one eyebrow as they exited the elevator together, obviously having spent the night in her room. They left the hotel and looked up and down the street for signs of a taxi, and within a couple of minutes one appeared. Ana waved to lay claim to it, while out of necessity Ben stood idly by, hating his c
urrent status. After climbing inside, Ben asked the driver where they could find the closest pharmacy.
The hefty man behind the wheel asked, “You mean a chemist?”
Ben answered, “Yes, chemist … somewhere they have medical supplies.”
The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb rather too quickly, his tires screeching as he entered the flow of traffic. The streets and sidewalks were all but clogged with cars and shoppers. This was normal for the day after a rainstorm, and everyone looked purposeful, or seemed to express an air of enjoyment at the morning’s abundant sunshine. Soon the driver pulled to a halt and pointed to a shop on their left. Ben had put his wallet in his right pocket and managed to retrieve it, but handed it to Ana so she could pay the driver. They got out and reached the sidewalk as quickly as possible, just managing to avoid a careless lorry driver pulling out of a loading zone.
They entered the store, told the bright-faced young woman behind the counter what they needed, and soon Ben was wearing a proper sling. “It does feel a lot better supported like this,” he said, and Ana smiled while she dug into his wallet again to pay the salesgirl.
Ana suddenly said, “Wait. There’s something else you may need.” She turned to the young woman and asked, “Would you please get us some ibuprofen? A small bottle should do.”
“You assume I don’t have something like that on hand?”
“You’re a man, aren’t you?”
Their eyes met. Neither looked away. Ben stepped closer to her and said, “I most certainly am.”
Ana reacted to his seductive air of confidence by looking away demurely; however, what she was feeling was anything but demure. Again, there was the pleasant adrenaline rush as she thought of the ways she would like to help him confirm that particular fact.
CHAPTER THREE
Their business drawn to a close, Ben and Ana joined the flow of diligent shoppers scurrying up and down the street. They strolled for a block or so, enjoying the sun and the colorful offerings of a flower seller whose kiosk was set up on a busy corner. Ana noticed a quaint café whose entrance was graced on each side by wooden boxes filled to the brim with a variety of spring flowers. There were lace curtains on the paned windows, and as a customer opened the door to exit, the aroma of fresh baked goods served to lure them inside. Neither had eaten anything other than the pub’s stale pretzels since lunch the previous day, so with just a mutual glance of approval they went in and took a table by the window. Both enjoyed a hearty breakfast accompanied by pleasant and diverse conversation that excluded any mention of the previous night’s assault.
When they had finished, Ben asked, “Do you have an office here in London that requires you to appear in person on a daily basis?”
“No, thankfully. When I accept an assignment, I’m on my own until it’s completed. Sometimes they check in— ask me to call with an update on how it’s going. They like to make sure I’m not enjoying myself too much on their dime.”
“Then they’d be pleased to know what a rotten day you had yesterday, at least the part after we met in the pub,” Ben said, his tone almost questioning. Perhaps he had needed to confirm that meeting him had not been a completely negative experience.
“I wouldn’t call it rotten. Some might call it exciting. But I’d call it frightening, other than the brief part where we were enjoying our informal meeting in the pub.”
Ben couldn’t resist that opening and chimed in, “That was the best part, even better than the invitation up to your hotel room.” He winked at her and waited for a response that didn’t come. “Forgive my ‘cheek,’ but I think we need to lighten up and try to make something good out of what happened.”
Ana agreed with a nod before replying, “You should know that you are definitely the first man I’ve ever asked up to a hotel room, for any reason.” She wondered if he believed her. The lull in their conversation made her uncomfortable, and she said, “I’ve always had a soft spot for lost or injured dogs, even cats.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them, unsure of whether a comment labeling him ‘lost’ might incur a negative response.
Ben sat up straighter in his chair and she noticed he wasn’t smiling. “Is that how you see me after less than twenty-four hours of acquaintance?”
“Of course not. I was just trying to keep it light… as you advised.”
“I can assure you that I’m completely self-sufficient… in normal circumstances. I’ve never been one to let a woman baby me, nor have they wanted to, as far as I know.” Ben leaned back in his chair and placed his used napkin on the table. “I tried to just go home, but you didn’t give me much of a choice.”
“You’re right. I didn’t give you much choice. I can be bossy, like you said, but my intentions were good. I admit I can have a tendency to ‘take over’ in certain situations. Boring stuff from childhood. I’m sorry if I came on too strong. But part of it was how scared the whole thing made me.”
Ben’s tone softened. “I understand that. A man isn’t supposed to be weak or scared, or appear scared anyway. But I was, and I don’t mind admitting it to you.” He leaned forward and with his good arm, reached for Ana’s hand. He closed his fingers around hers and said softly, “I’m glad we can talk to each other about this. And if I haven’t said it enough times already, you were great. You are great, and I’m very glad to have met you, Ms. Ana Doherty.”
Ana was affected by his words and looked down rather self-consciously. She felt that special little ache near the heart that told her she was starting to care for him beyond simple attraction. Clearly it was too soon, and she would probably be wise to avoid the complication all together. There had been only one man in her past that had caused the little ache, but she had been so young, fascinated by his interest in her and suffering from a fragile ego that was naïve to his intentions. Yet this time the response was not about her ego. It was about the way she had met him, the circumstances by which she was starting to know him. But mainly it was about how easily he could elicit a physical response in her at his slightest touch. Before, she had known that on some level her actions were wrong. With Ben, everything felt right.
Their waitperson disturbed the moment by asking if they would like anything else. Ben declined and requested the check. That settled, they were soon out the door and standing on the sidewalk. It seemed that once again each was waiting for the other to make the next move. Ben was the first to speak.
“Now that I’ve been fed, I really need to get home and clean up.” He paused for a moment, expecting a response from Ana, but she was waiting for what might come next. Continuing, he said, “I’m sure you have some sort of work to attend to … maybe report in, or do some shopping.”
Ana realized that they were at the point of going their separate ways. The prospect bothered her even though she knew they would meet again for the interview. “As a matter of fact,” she said a little too brightly, deflecting her disappointment, “I may as well do a little sightseeing … maybe visit the Tower of London … see where some of the historical horrors took place.”
Ben let out a little laugh and said, “That should keep you busy for a while. You won’t like the queues at the tourist sights.” He shifted from one foot to the other, reluctant to leave her. Finally he said, “Let me get you a taxi. I’m going in the opposite direction, so I’ll hail one for you then catch one for myself.”
Ana nodded in agreement, and before she had a chance to make some sort of plan to accomplish her assignment, a taxi came their way and Ben waved it down with his good arm. As she climbed in she turned and called to him, “You have my card, right? We still need to schedule the interview.”
Ben assured her that he would be in touch later in the day and would find time for them to meet just as soon as possible. He closed the taxi door and waved to her as the driver pulled out into traffic. He didn’t like seeing Ana disappear from view. It caused him an unfamiliar discomfort, and as he walked briskly toward the next corner, he had to remind himself that he
would see her again. Once he reached the busy intersection, taxis were plentiful. Soon he was on his way to Chelsea and thinking about a long hot shower followed by a nap.
* * *
On the ride through town to his flat, Ben fought to stay awake. When they had turned off King’s Road onto Sloane, he caught sight of the familiar building and felt a sense of comfort. He had left his wallet in a front pocket so was able to pay the driver quickly. Soon he stood before the steps leading to the building’s entrance. Glancing to the left he saw his neighbor, Mrs. Ward-Thomas, sitting in her usual place at the ground level window of her basement flat, watching life go by as she fussed with the flowers in her window box. None of the other neighbors knew how long she had lived there, and she kept to herself most of the time.
As Ben looked at her, the sun shining gently on her face, he thought she must have been quite beautiful in her youth. In spite of the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, there remained a healthy blush in her complexion, and he was quite certain there had to be an interesting story behind those soft gray-blue eyes. Her white hair was confined in one thick braid that reached all the way to her waist, ending with a small satin ribbon. That small attention to detail made Ben smile. She was wearing a brightly flowered dress, or blouse, he couldn’t tell which, topped with the ruffled white apron that was her signature. She was so often in that spot, and Ben had always intended to speak to her, but had procrastinated. There always seemed to be some kind of hurry to get up the stairs to his flat and shut out the rest of the world. As a consequence, he was only on nodding terms with most of the neighbors. He supposed that she had limited human contact. A lonely life, he thought.
“Mr. McKinnon,” she shouted to him in a slightly wavering voice. “Can you stop a minute? I want to show you something.”
Good Deed Bad Deed : A Novel Mystery Page 4
