by Lyn Horner
“Y-yes,” she stammered, flustered by his flattery and wishing Una was here to help her with personal matters.
“You might want this.” Retrieving the duffle bag from a nearby chair, he set it in the bathroom then came to get her.
“Don’t look,” she snapped before tossing back the covers.
“No, ma’am, I’ll be a perfect gentleman, cross my heart.”
She snorted. Gentleman, my patoot! He was a man through and through and not above sneaking a peek … and copping a feel, she discovered as he walked her into the bathroom with his arm around her. When his hand crept up to brush the outside of her breast, her first impulse was to slap it away, especially when she recalled the suspicions she’d struggled with last night, yet she didn’t protest his familiarity. Maybe because his touch sent tingly sensations racing through her body.
Pondering her confused feelings, she saw to her urgent need then washed and dressed in her cleanest jeans and shirt, cautiously hopping on one foot. A few minutes later, as Conn carried her downstairs, the come-hither aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted up to them.
“Dev must be in the kitchen,” Conn said. “You want me to carry you in there?”
“No! I … I don’t want him to think me a total invalid. I’d rather walk. Hop, I mean. If you don’t mind serving as my crutch again, that is.”
“Don’t mind a bit, although I sure do like the feel of you in my arms.” He waggled his eyebrows and gave his trademark grin as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Which is a good reason to put me down,” she said, sounding breathy to her own ears. Not wanting to look like an invalid in front of Medina was true enough, but she also needed to break Conn’s hold upon her – literally. Cradled in his arms, with her breast pillowed against his muscular chest and her bottom entirely too close to the bulge in his jeans, made her feel warm and shivery all over. She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth and thinking again of how he’d kissed her on Rossbeigh Beach … and wishing.
She gave a quiet sigh, half of relief, half of disappointment, when he let her legs slide down his body. He steadied her while she got her balance, one arm firmly around her.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Okay. Lead on, Trusty Crutch,” she joked feebly.
He chuckled. “Yes ma’am.”
They found Dev in the kitchen as Conn had surmised. He sat at a glass-topped table with a mug of coffee in one hand as he perused a newspaper. He lowered it slightly when they walked in, nodded to her and ignored Conn.
“Morning. There’s coffee,” he said tersely. “Mugs are in the cupboard by the sink.” With that he went back to reading his paper.
“Thank you,” Lara replied, trying to be gracious despite the man’s icy attitude. She owed him that much for allowing Conn and her to spend the night in his home.
“Sit here,” Conn directed, pulling out a chair for her opposite their taciturn host. “I’ll get you some coffee.”
Giving a silent nod, she sat and glared at the newsprint blocking Medina’s face. Was he going to act like this the whole time she and Conn remained here? She wanted to chide him for his rudeness, but remembering the reason behind it, she bit back her sharp words.
Conn set a steaming mug of coffee in front of her and, without a word, stepped back. Leaning against the counter behind him, he took a swig from his own mug. Lara sipped the hot liquid more cautiously, not wishing to scald her tongue.
Medina folded his paper and laid it aside. “You take sugar or cream?”
“No, thank you. I prefer it black,” she replied, surprised he’d thought to ask.
“You hungry? I’m going to scramble some eggs.”
“Oh, I-I don’t want you to go to any bother for me.”
“No bother. Just a matter of cracking a few more eggs.”
“All right, but can I help?”
“You can do the cracking if you want to.”
“Sure.” She watched him gather a bowl and carton of eggs. “How many should I crack?” she asked, shooting a glance at Conn, who had turned to stare out the kitchen window.
“Better make it the whole dozen. Enough for three,” he said with a twist of his lips, perhaps sensing her unspoken question. “I’ll fry up some bacon.”
After a tense, silent breakfast, Conn helped Lara into the living room and settled her in the same spot on the couch as last night. Then he pulled out his cell phone and called a cab.
“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.
“Not you, just me. I want to get us some wheels over at my place. Need to do it now before the Hounds show up looking for us. They know where I live, remember.”
“No, don’t go! They might already be there,” Lara protested.
“Doubtful. They likely don’t even know we’ve left Ireland yet.”
“But last night you told Mr. Medina you couldn’t take me to your place because it isn’t safe.” She frowned, certain he was minimizing the danger simply to reassure her.
Bending down, he whispered, “I said that to convince Dev to let us stay here. You were exhausted and I didn’t want to tire you out any more.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. “It’s all right, honey, I’ll be careful. Be back as soon as I can.” With that he headed outside to wait for the cab, leaving Lara uneasy and wondering what to do in his absence.
Dev Medina had disappeared upstairs. At the faint sound of running water, she gathered he was taking a shower. That must be painful on his burns, but even so, she envied him. In Ireland, she’d managed tub baths with Una’s assistance, but here, unless she asked Conn to help her – out of the question – a sponge bath was the best she could do. She hadn’t stood under a warm shower since before the accident, almost four months ago.
That thought reminded her it was time to find out if her leg had healed enough to bear weight. She’d intended to locate an orthopedic doctor in Ireland and make an appointment but now that she was back in the states, she’d like to see the surgeon who’d operated on her leg. Yes, but how was she supposed to make an appointment and keep it while on the run from the Hellhounds with Conn?
Pondering the problem, she looked up when Medina walked into the room. Showered and shaved, with fresh clothes on, he looked considerably better. He smiled at her and she almost did a double take. It was the first time she’d seen him without a sullen frown on his face, and it startled her to realize he was handsome in a blunt, strong-boned sort of way. Then she noticed Uncle Malcolm’s code book in his hand.
“I have a copier in my office,” he said without preamble. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll copy the pages of code and give you back the book for safe keeping.”
“Yes, that’s fine.” Actually, his suggestion came as a relief. She’d hated to let the book out of her hands even overnight.
“Good. After I make the copies, I thought I’d start working on the code.” He glanced out the front window behind her. “Where’s O’Shea off to?”
Lara twisted around in time to see Conn get into a yellow cab. “He’s going to his place to get some wheels, he said.”
“Mmm. You want a book to read while you wait? I’ve got some mysteries if you like that kind of thing.”
“Uh, yes, I enjoy a good mystery now and then.”
He nodded. “I’ll go make the copies and grab a few books.” Pivoting, he strode toward the back of the condo and a moment later, Lara heard the mechanical whoosh of his copier spitting out sheets of paper.
Medina returned shortly after that with several paperbacks. He handed her Uncle Malcolm’s leather-bound code book and piled the novels on an end table beside her.
“I picked out a few different authors so you have some choices.”
“Thank you, Mr. Medina. That’s kind of you.”
“Call me Dev. Everybody does. When I hear Mr. Medina, I expect to see my pa standing behind me.” He grinned, once again surprising her.
Lara laughed. “Very well, Dev.”
Rubbing his hands on his sturdy, d
enim-clad thighs, he cleared his throat. “Well, I’d better get started. If you need anything, call me. I’ll leave the office door open so I can hear you.”
She nodded and listened to his steps recede down the hall. Without much enthusiasm, she sorted through the stack of books, choosing one by James Patterson. It was one she hadn’t read before, so it should have engaged her, yet she had trouble concentrating on the printed page. Worry for Conn kept intruding. She’d read twenty-five pages but couldn’t recall a word when he finally returned.
“Did you have any trouble?” she asked the second he stepped into the living room.
“Un-uh. Didn’t see a sign of the Hounds,” he said, casually stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.
“Thank God!” She heaved a sigh of relief, set aside the book she was holding and cleared her throat. “While you were gone I … I’ve been thinking it’s time to find out if I can start walking.”
Conn’s dark eyebrows shot up. “Yeah? How do we do that?”
“The surgeon who operated on my leg will need to x-ray it.”
“Okay. We’d better get you in to see him.”
“Yes, but he’s located in Shreveport.”
“No problem. Make your appointment and I’ll take you there.”
“But shouldn’t we stay here until Dev breaks the code?”
“That could take me days, maybe even weeks,” Dev said, walking into the room. “Go see your doctor.”
Lara looked uncertainly from one man to the other until Conn crouched at her feet and laid a hand on her knee. His warm touch sent fiery tendrils racing up her thigh to the tender flesh between her legs, making her breath catch.
“It might be best if we don’t hang around here for long, anyway,” he said, “The Hounds could track us here if they check into my background and find out Dev is … my best friend.” His hesitation was slight but noticeable, as was Dev’s instant scowl. “And I’m sure they will.”
Her chest tightened with a rush of fear, not only for Conn and herself, but for Dev. She shot him an anxious glance. “We’ve put you in danger by coming here.”
“Not really. I’ve got a hunting shack where I figure on getting lost for a while. It’s quiet there, a good place to work on breaking your uncle’s code.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “If those Hounds, as you call them, should happen to show up here, they’ll find nobody home.”
Relieved of worry for Dev, Lara accepted Conn’s decision to leave as soon as she called and made her doctor appointment. While she took care of that, he gathered their few belongings from upstairs. Dev gave her his cell number and she agreed to call him in a few days to find out if he’d had any luck deciphering the code. She thanked him sincerely and held her breath when Conn stepped forward to face his friend.
“I know you’d as soon see me in hell, but thanks, man, for helping Lara.”
Dev’s tawny brows dipped low over his nose. Lara feared he would lash out at Conn, possibly even strike him as he had last night, but after a charged moment, he gave a stiff nod and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Moments later, she sat in the passenger seat of Conn’s Chevy Silverado. Behind them, his midnight blue Harley, the same color as the truck, was strapped down in the bed of the pickup. He’d mentioned once that he owned a motorcycle but the truck had come as a surprise. It was comfortable with plenty of room to stretch out her stiffly braced leg, but she felt a twinge of disappointment over being enclosed in the cab rather than riding behind Conn on the motorcycle. She missed the wind in her face, the thrill of sitting astride such a powerful machine and, most of all, the tantalizing nearness of the man controlling the great roaring beast.
Stop thinking about him that way, her inner voice scolded.
“I need to stop in Fort Worth and see my mother, to warn her,” the subject of her errant thought said, drawing her attention.
“Warn her? About what?” she asked. Then, noting his grim profile, she knew the answer. “Oh, no! You think the Hounds might find out about her, too, don’t you?”
He nodded without taking his eyes off the road. “It’s a safe bet they will.”
“Dear God! I never should have involved you in this. Now everyone you care about is in danger.” She clutched the edge of her seat, awash with guilt.
“Hey! No more of that,” he said, loosening her grip on the leather upholstery and enclosing her cold fingers into his big, warm hand. “None of it’s your fault. You didn’t invite the scumbags to come after you, did you?”
“No, but I knew they would.”
“Yeah, and that’s why you hired me to keep you safe, remember? I took the job knowing there could be trouble.”
“Yes, but you didn’t want to. You only did it because I begged you to, and having your family and friends threatened wasn’t part of our bargain. If you want to walk away now, I would understand, Conn.” Though what she would do without him, she didn’t know.
“I’m not walking anywhere, Lara. Not without you.” He sent her a penetrating glance filled with unspoken words that made her eyes fill and her throat clog. Then he directed his gaze ahead once more.
“Thank you, Conn,” she whispered, voice husky with unshed tears. She wanted to tell him how much she appreciated his loyalty and how she admired him, how she … cared for him. But she didn’t dare. Was it him she couldn’t trust, or herself? She honestly didn’t know
*
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at Conn’s mother’s home, a neat one-story, ranch-style house in an older, well kept part of Fort Worth, a mile or two from the Texas Christian University campus. She’d lived there for over twenty years, since before his father died, Conn explained, and had taught in a nearby elementary school even longer than that.
“Until her disability made it too difficult for her to continue teaching,” he added. “The house is paid for and she’s pretty well set between Pa’s insurance and her retirement benefits. I suggested once that she sell the place and move to a retirement community.” He shook his head. “She darn near took my head off for bringing it up. Reckon it’d take an earthquake to pry her out of here.”
“I can see why,” Lara remarked as they pulled into the tree-shaded driveway, skirted by an immaculately groomed yard. “It’s beautiful with all the trees and flowers.” There were beds of red, pink and white impatiens mixed with tall caladiums in similar hues edging the front walk and meandering along the dark green dwarf hollies that framed the front of the house.
“Yeah, Mom loves her flowers. She used to do all her own gardening. Now, she has a gardener who comes every couple weeks. Course she keeps a close eye on him to make sure he does everything just right.” He spoke in an affectionate tone, a grin punctuating his words.
Turning off the engine, he stepped out of the truck and came around to open her door. Looking at the ground, which seemed awfully far down, Lara felt dizzy for a second.
“You’re sort of pale. Maybe I’d better carry you.”
“No, no, I’m fine, just a little tired. I’d rather hop along, Trusty Crutch.”
He laughed. “As you like, Ms. Hopalong. Let me lift you down. It’s kind of a big step.”
“So I noticed.” She laid her hands on his shoulders and, spanning her waist with his much larger hands, he lowered her gently to the ground. Careful not to let her right foot touch down, she leaned against his rock-hard frame, heart drumming a faster beat. They stared into one another’s eyes for a charged moment. Then he shifted to her side, slipping one arm around her for support.
“Come on, let’s go surprise Mom.”
“I hope I won’t be too much of a surprise for her.”
“Naw, she likes company and she’ll love you.”
Lara hopped her way to his mother’s front door with his help and fought an attack of nerves when he rang the bell. Within seconds, the door opened to reveal an attractive Hispanic woman with wavy black hair. The fine crow’s feet radiating from her eyes suggested she might be in her forties or
early fifties.
“Mr. Connor!” she exclaimed with a bright smile.
“Howdy, Josefina. I don’t know how you do it, but you get prettier every time I see you.”
The woman giggled and waved aside his compliment. “Oh, Mr. Connor, you are such a flatterer.” She stepped back. “Do not stand out there. Come in, come in with your friend.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Walking Lara into the cool, tiled foyer, Conn said, “Josephina, this is Lara Spenser. Lara, meet Josephina Martinez, my mother’s caregiver and best pal.”
Lara smiled and nodded to the other woman. “I’m happy to meet you, Josephina.”
“It is my pleasure, Miss Spenser.” To Conn, the Latina said, “You should help her to a seat in the front room.” She gestured toward the spacious living area to Lara’s left. “Your mama is taking a nap. I will wake her and tell her you are here.”
“No need, Josie,” another female voice called from the back of the house. “I’m awake.”
Lara glanced down the hall and saw Conn’s mother wheel herself out of a room on the right. A radiant smile creased her face as she approached. Slim, with pixie-cut hair the same brown shade as her son’s, though sprinkled with gray, she was remarkably youthful looking.
“Hello, Mom,” Conn said.
“Hello yourself, stranger.” Stopping a short distance away, his mother swept her gaze over Lara from head to awkwardly raised foot. “Lara, is it?”
“Yes, Mrs. O’Shea.”
“Please, no formalities. Just call me Beth. I’m delighted to meet a friend of my son’s, especially such a pretty one.”
“Th-thank you, Beth,” Lara stammered, thinking the woman must be blind not to have noticed her scarred cheek.
“Well, Connor, are you going to do as Josie said and help Lara to a seat?”
He laughed, his chest vibrating against Lara’s side. “Reckon I’d better before you light into me.”
“Wise decision.”
Conn led Lara into the front room and over to an easy chair that stood facing the room’s entrance, at a right angle to the companion couch. Both were upholstered in a delicate floral pattern. Following them into the room, Beth O’Shea positioned herself opposite Lara, a mahogany coffee table between them. Conn plopped down on the couch, stretching out his arm across the top cushion.