by Lyn Horner
“Well, well, look who’s awake.” She smiled genially.
“Where am I?” he croaked. “And where’s Michaela, the woman I was with?”
“You’re in the hospital E.R.,” she said, handing him a lidded plastic mug with a bendable straw sticking out the top. “Dr. Peterson is in another room having her chin stitched up and her other injuries treated. Someone did a job on her face.”
He gulped a swallow of ice water and cleared his throat. “Yeah, he did. I need to see her.” He tried to sit up, groaning with the effort.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She laid a restraining hand on his chest – covered by an ugly hospital gown. “You’re still weak and there’s a needle in your arm. It’s replacing the fluid you lost, and you’re going to stay put until I say otherwise. Are we clear?” She pinned him with a glare that would do a drill sergeant proud.
“Yes ma’am.” He wanted to argue but she was right, he did still feel weak. Not to mention he hurt like hell.
“Good. By the way, one of our doctors sewed up your arm and side while you were out. I take it you got those nasty cuts protecting Dr. Peterson.”
Dev frowned. “Yeah, but I should have gotten to her sooner.” He glanced at his right arm, seeing a neat gauze bandage wrapped around his biceps below the gown’s floppy sleeve. “Uh, can you tell me how I got here?”
“Two guys brought you in, friends of yours, they said. I’ll let them know you’re awake. They can tell you all about it. First, though, the police are waiting to speak to you. They already interviewed Dr. Peterson.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He listened to the squeak of her rubber-soled shoes as she marched out. Knowing Russ and Bobby McKinney must be the two friends she’d referred to, he was anxious to thank them – after he gave his story to the cops.
The two officers asked a few questions and listened to his account of finding Michaela tied up and beaten, the fight with Kohler and how it had ended. Stating work was underway to recover the body, dead or alive, from the caved-in house, the senior patrolman was sure Dev would not be charged with any crime. His wounds and Michaela’s battered condition, plus the fact that Kohler’s fingerprints had been found in her bedroom and on the breaker box, made clear who the guilty party was. Advising Dev to stop by the police station with Dr. Peterson as soon as possible to give a formal statement, the two men left.
The McKinney brothers walked in moments later.
“Hey, man, glad to see you’re back among the living,” Russ said with a grin. Stepping around the narrow bed to where Nurse Louise had stood, he playfully punched Dev’s uninjured shoulder.
“Yeah, me too,” Bobby said, standing at the foot of the bed with his hands stuffed in his jeans’ back pockets.
“Thanks, guys, for bringing Michaela and me here. I owe you big time.”
“Naw, you don’t.” Russ shook his head adamantly. “We saw what that freak did to your lady. It’s good to know he paid for it in the end. I’m just sorry we didn’t get there sooner so I could give him some of what he dished out.”
Dev gave a feral smile. “Don’t worry, I saw to that.”
“I bet you did. So tell us how it all went down. Doc Peterson was too upset worrying about you to say much except that the psycho who kidnapped and beat her up, and knifed you, was in the house when it tumbled down.”
“He was, and if he didn’t die then, I expect he’s dead by now.” Dev related his short run-in with the street punks and the hunch he’d had about Michaela’s location – keeping her psychic message to himself. He summarized what he’d told the cops about the rest of it and listened to the brothers’ account of finding Michaela standing in the middle of the road, waving them down.
“Right, and her dress was torn open and –” Bobby began, making Dev scowl.
“No need to go into that, little brother,” Russ interrupted. “It’s time we get out of here and let the man rest.”
“Oh, sure. Sorry.” The tall, skinny kid gave Dev a shamefaced glance.
“Thanks again, boys. I plan to take Michaela away on an extended vacation, so I might not see you again. But I’ll never forget what you did for us.” He grinned. “It was my lucky night when I got into that fight with you at the hotel bar.”
They laughed, said their goodbyes and left. Longing for Michaela, Dev dozed off. When he roused from his nap, he found her sitting in a chair by his bedside, holding his hand.
“Hi there,” she murmured. She attempted a painful smile, puffy lips not wanting to curve upward. Her bruised cheeks were turning black and blue, and several tiny stitches now closed the cut on her chin. Some kindly soul had provided her with a set of blue hospital scrubs.
“Hi, sweetheart. Nice outfit,” he teased with a wink.
She glanced down at herself, tangled blonde hair partially concealing her swollen face. “Thank you, sir. It’s better than what I wore when we arrived here.”
“How are you feeling, Goldie?” Dev wanted to yank the needle from his arm so he could gather her close and comfort her, but drill sergeant Louise’s order to stay put rang in his head. Knowing she was right about him being too weak, he feared he would end up flat on the floor if he disregarded her order.
“I look awful,” she said sourly, gesturing at her discolored cheeks, “but I’m okay, just a little sore.” She folded both hands around his bigger hand. “I’m more worried about you. You lost so much blood! It scared me half to death when you passed out.”
“Sorry, honey. That wasn’t part of the plan.” He glanced up at the bag of liquid hanging on a pole at the head of the bed. “I’ll be fine once this stuff finishes dripping into me.”
“To be safe, I think they should keep you here a day or two.”
“No way! We’re blowing this joint the minute they give me back my clothes.” He’d had enough of hospitals after his recent stay in a burn unit for his back. “Besides, we still need to clear out of Galveston as soon as possible. There may be other bastards on your trail if Kohler was one of the Hellhounds.”
Michaela sighed, looking glum. “I know. You were right all along. He was one of the Hellhounds. He had orders from his master – that’s what he called him – to force me to turn over the … thing I guard. That’s why he kidnapped me, aside from wanting revenge because I chose you over him.”
He smiled at that. “Did he drop any clue as to who this master might be?”
Shaking her head, she stared at their joined hands. “No. He was too busy threatening me with his knife, trying to scare me into revealing where to find the … the thing.”
“You know, it would be a whole lot easier to talk about if you’d just tell me what the thing is.”
She gave him a considering look, took a deep breath and said, “It’s a scroll, a very ancient scroll.”
Brows knit, he studied her. “So, I guess the other Guardians each have a scroll to protect. Is that right?”
Withdrawing her hands from his, she crossed her arms. “Yes, and that’s all I dare say about it. I’ve already broken my oath never to speak of the scrolls to anyone.” She dropped her gaze, hiding behind a screen of golden lashes. “Except to my true mate if I find him.”
“Your true mate, hmm?” This was getting interesting.
“Yes.” Jumping up from her chair with a visible wince, she said, “I’m going to the ladies room.” She dashed out the door as if chased by fire, leaving Dev with a lot to think about.
Two more hours passed before the drip bag was finally empty. By the time the E.R. doc assigned to his case gave him the okay to leave, it was late morning. Refusing to ride in a wheelchair, he walked out under his own power dressed in his bloody pants and shirt, drinking in the bright blue sky and damp sea air. He experienced a sense of liberation, even if he did have to lean on Michaela to steady his rubbery legs.
*
Decreeing she would drive, Michaela got no argument from Dev, testifying to his weakened state, she thought, helping him into the passenger seat of his Range Rover outside the
E.R. entrance. She’d easily located the bright red SUV on a nearby lot, where Bobby McKinney had parked it last night after following his brother here. One more thing she was deeply grateful for to the two brothers.
As she climbed in behind the wheel, Dev opened the gloved compartment and drew out a lethal looking black gun. Perhaps hearing her breath catch, he glanced at her. “Russ told me he’d stowed it in here after taking it off me.”
“Y-you had it all the time but let Andrew knife you?” She stared at him in disbelief.
“I didn’t exactly let him but, yeah, I had the gun.” As he spoke, he tucked the weapon back into the glove compartment.
“But why didn’t you just shoot him?”
“Putting a bullet in his brain would have been too easy on him.” His jaw clenched briefly. “I wanted him to suffer the same way he made you suffer.”
“He might have killed you, Dev.”
“Naw, he wasn’t that good with the knife.”
Shaking her head at his casual disregard for his safety, she drove into mid-day traffic and headed home. When they arrived, Dev again leaned on her as they mounted the front steps. They were met at the door by Bianca, who gasped and stepped back at first sight of them. She took in Dev’s bloody clothes then stared in horror at Michaela.
“Señora, your poor face!” she cried, pressing her hands to her own plump cheeks.
“It’s all right, Bianca, just a few bruises.” She didn’t let on how much those bruises and the ones on her body ached, or how hideous she felt. “But Señor Medina was wounded rescuing me from the man who did this. We just came from the hospital. He must sit and eat something.”
“Sí, sí! I will make sandwiches and soup, Doctora. Sí? ”
“That’s fine. We’ll be in the living room. Would you bring lunch in there?”
“Of course, Señora.” The older woman hustled off to the kitchen and Michaela led Dev to her high-backed fan chair, thinking it would be easier for him to rise from later.
“You sure this pretty thing will hold me, Goldie?” he asked, cocking a dark blond eyebrow at her. “I’m no lightweight. I don’t want to break it.”
She laughed, instantly regretting it when her injured stomach muscles complained. “That chair has supported my mother and she’s on the chunky side. It will hold you just fine.”
“If you say so.” Cautiously lowering himself onto the cushioned wicker seat, he grimaced, mirroring her discomfort as she settled on the couch.
“Thank you for saving me, Dev. If not for you I’d probably be dead by now … or wishing I was.” Sighing tiredly, she kicked off the disposable flip-flops a nurse had given her.
He scowled. “I’m sorry for letting Kohler get his hands on you, honey. I should have checked the house for intruders like always.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. As I recall, you had your hands full with me.” Producing a crooked smile, she reached over and patted his arm.
“That’s just it. I didn’t want to turn you loose. Look what that got you.” He snorted and shook his head. “Thank God you sent me that message when you did.”
“Yes, thank the Goddess!” Catching his perplexed glance, she quickly added, “I still can’t believe it worked.” She idly smoothed the cotton scrubs encasing her legs. “Do you think all people will communicate that way someday?” She couldn’t help wondering in view of the scroll she guarded, prophesying psychic powers would be common at some point in the future.
Dev shrugged. “Could be, I guess. Anything is possible.”
They compared mental notes on their interviews with the police. “I guess we’d better go to the police station and give formal statements before we leave the island,” Michaela said.
“Right, but first we both need some rest. Visiting the cops can wait until tomorrow. When the Hellhound master, as his underlings evidently call him, finds out Kohler failed, he’ll send someone else after you. But I think we’re safe to stay here tonight.”
Cutting off their conversation, Bianca carried in a tray stacked with sandwiches, soup mugs and tall glasses of ice tea. All delicious, but Michaela found eating a painful business due to her tender lips and the torn inside of her cheeks. She managed to swallow most of her chicken noodle soup but only a few bites of ham sandwich. Meanwhile, Dev wolfed down at least four times as much. Hiding her amusement at his voracious appetite, she was happy just to sit there with him. It felt right, somehow.
Once they finished, she carried the tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen, helped Bianca with cleaning up and told her to take the afternoon off. The housekeeper, who occasionally doubled as a cook, protested saying she should stay and care for the Doctora and Señor Medina. It took some doing, but Michaela convinced her they wouldn’t need her; they only wanted to sleep.
Accordingly, as soon as Bianca left, the two of them made their way upstairs, leaning on each other. They stopped outside her bedroom. Dev gently caressed her swollen cheek.
“Get some rest, honey. I’ll flop in the guest room.”
“No!” She caught his hand and gazed imploringly into his electric blue eyes. “Stay with me, please. I don’t want to be alone.”
Smiling sadly, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her clutching fingers. “You don’t have to be afraid, darlin’. The boogeyman is dead. He isn’t coming back.”
“I know but I … I need you to hold me.”
He studied her for a brief moment then silently nodded. Turning, she led him into the room, pausing to glance around. Everything looked exactly the same as last night. Had it really been less than twenty-four hours since Andrew Kohler drugged and kidnapped her? She shivered at the thought of him. Behind her, Dev tunneled under her hair with his big hands and gently massaged her tense shoulders and neck.
“It’s okay, Goldie. I’m right here.” His deep, caressing voice and warm presence eased her involuntary flash of fear. “Let’s undress and go to bed,” he added.
Soon, she lay on her side, snuggled against him skin to skin with his arm securely around her. Splaying her hand on his chest, she marveled at the broad, muscular expanse. The sight of his magnificent body, bandages and all, as they shed their clothes had stolen her breath. It was imprinted on her brain. If she wasn’t so tired … .
His reaction upon seeing her bruised midsection was entirely different. He’d made her ears burn, calling Andrew foul names she’d never heard before and snarling, “If the bastard wasn’t dead, I’d beat him to death.” Now, though, he was all gentleness, kissing her forehead – the only part of her face that didn’t hurt – and lightly stroking her back as if she was made of glass. He didn’t attempt to take matters beyond that, whether out of concern for her or simple exhaustion, she could only guess.
“Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured, and within seconds she did.
The room was bathed in the muted glow of approaching sunset when she woke up. Still pressed to Dev’s side, she bent her head back and watched him sleep. His relaxed features made him look vulnerable, if that term could ever apply to such a man. With his mouth ajar, he snored softly. Suppressing a giggle, she thought it unfair of him to still be sound asleep when she was awake. She tried walking her fingers up his bare midriff. Failing to wake him, she changed tactics, playing with the ringlets of reddish blond hair that formed a silky patch on his upper chest. He stirred and rumbled deep in his throat but didn’t open his eyes.
Deciding more drastic measures were called for, she lightly pinched one flat male nipple between her thumb and forefinger, causing it to harden and stand up. She wet her finger and circled the little bud, bringing speedy results. Dev sucked in his breath, opened his eyes and stared at her. Trying for an impish smile, she tweaked her plaything with her fingernail. From the corner of her eye, she saw the sheet covering his lower half tent upward, another part of him begging for attention.
He snared her wrist to stop her teasing. “You’re playing with fire, girl. Considering the shape you’re in, that’s not smart.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, mister,” she replied mischievously. “What about you? How are you feeling?”
“I need you! I feel like I’ll curl up and die if I can’t have you,” he said in a gruff voice. “But I don’t want to hurt you, Goldie.”
“Oh, Dev, I need you too! I don’t care if it hurts.” Heart swelling with emotion, she blinked at the sting of tears.
“I do care, honey.” He emitted a long sigh. “Which is why you’re going to let me do all the work.” He gently rolled her onto her back. “All you need to do is lie here.”
“But your side, your arm –”
“Can take care of themselves. My job is to take care of you. Good care.” Rising on one elbow, he kissed the ultra sensitive spot beneath her ear, tasting with the tip of his tongue and scraping the skin with his teeth, creating tiny bolts of lightning that sizzled along her nerve endings. She gasped and let her eyes flutter shut Moving on, his mouth traveled down her throat and along her collarbone. His shoulder-length hair brushed her skin and his scent enveloped her, further arousing her senses. She longed for him to kiss her lips but knew he wouldn’t until she healed enough to kiss him back without pain. That was her Dev.
He lifted her arm and slowly kissed his way down to her fingertips then back up. At the same time, his hand trailed down her other arm, emulating the touch of his lips. Michaela shifted her legs and moaned softly, yearning for him to ply his kisses in other eager places. When he finally turned his attention to her breasts, she sighed in shaky relief, but it didn’t last long. His wet, hungry kisses made her arch off the bed, ignoring the protest of bruised muscles. His hand roamed downward, caressing her thighs but never touching the needful place between her legs.
“Dev, please!” she begged, trying to capture his hand and lead it where she wanted it.
“Please what, baby?” he murmured, evading her grip and laying feathery kisses over her tender belly.
“I need you!”
“Where do you need me? Show me.”
“Here!” She touched the curls covering her mound.