by P. G. Forte
“Jesus. Couldn’t you have thought to have some ready ahead of time?”
“No,” Siobhan answered, all traces of humor erased from her voice. “I use disposable darts. You can’t pre-fill them more than an hour ahead. Besides I’d have to know the weight, and what type of animal I’m using them on and— oh, God, Ryan, I’m doing the best I can here! Would you please just trust me?”
“Sure,” he quipped, through clenched teeth. “With my life.”
There was a moment’s startled silence. “Well, I really don’t think it’ll come to that!”
Ryan almost smiled. He seriously doubted it would, either. It was a bobcat, after all, not a cougar. And not yet fully recovered, either. Which didn’t mean it couldn’t maul him pretty badly, just the same. He had only to look at the damage it had inflicted on Selke to know that.
The important thing, he reminded himself, was to keep his hands clear of the cat’s mouth. He was pretty sure he couldn’t kick worth a damn, and its claws were nothing to fool around with. But those jaws could probably crunch bones and he really wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of being any more mangled than he already was.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Siobhan exhaled noisily. He could hear her get herself into position. The cat shifted some of its attention her way. “Just... whatever you do, don’t move until she’s down, okay?”
Ryan heard the crack of the air pistol as the dart whizzed past him. The cat jumped and turned, trying get at the bright yellow dart in its rear flank. As quickly as possible he went into action. Grabbing the dog from the floor and scrambling out of the way. But not quickly enough. He lost his footing on the bloody concrete floor and landed on his ass just as the cat, twisting around for a second time, leaped right for him.
Another dart hit the cat’s shoulder. Then it, too, fell to the floor.
“God damn it, Ryan! I told you not to move!” Siobhan’s eyes snapped with fury. Her chest heaved.
He stared at her in surprise. She had sounded so calm, he was stunned by how shaken she appeared.
“Well, how was I supposed to know you were gonna shoot her twice?” he muttered, trying to steady his own breathing.
“I wasn’t planning on shooting her twice! But then you… she… I thought—” Siobhan broke off, blinking rapidly as she transferred her gaze to the groggy cat. When she spoke again, her voice had regained most of its customary coolness. “That was way too high a dosage I gave her. I have to get the antidote administered right away. Can you get up?”
“Yeah, sure,” Ryan muttered, and then the reality of his condition hit him once again. “I— no. I can’t. Not with my hands full. Here, you’re gonna have to take your dog.”
He managed to pull himself to his feet while Siobhan carried Selke to one of the stainless steel tables. “How is he?” he asked, coming to stand beside her. “He gonna be okay?”
She sighed. For a moment she didn’t answer. When she did her voice was brightly reassuring. “Yes. Of course. He’s going to be just fine. Can you help me get the cat back into her cage now? I need to get her taken care of before I can deal with Selke.”
It didn’t take long to get the cat settled, but Ryan was seething with anger by the time Siobhan finally turned her attention back to the dog.
Damn it, she’d left the cage door open. That was the only possible explanation for the cat’s escape. There was nothing wrong with the latching mechanism, that was the first thing he checked. And there was nothing in the cage that would have prevented the door from closing securely, either. There was no way the cat could have opened it herself and Siobhan was the only one who had gone near it in the last couple of days.
Shit, how could she have been that careless? Sure, having the aquarium die-off again this morning had been a blow, but that was no excuse! It wasn’t like her to get distracted. And he could hardly believe she’d do anything so stupid, unless... well, hell. He’d been half-kidding the other day, but maybe she really did have a death wish?
Ryan watched, with growing impatience as Siobhan carefully gave the little dog an injection. And then as she stroked him, picking out the few places on his body that were not oozing blood. She crooned softly, continuously, although it didn’t look to him like the dog was even conscious any more.
He felt jittery—the result of too much adrenaline in his system. And it only got worse as the minutes ticked slowly by. What was taking her so damn long to get started, he wondered as he felt his temper inch higher. When she’d treated the bobcat’s wounds she hadn’t moved this deliberately. Surely, she realized that time was of the essence here? At this rate, the dog was liable to bleed to death by the time she got him sewed up!
“Are you waiting for something?” he asked, unable to control the irritation he was feeling as she put her stethoscope to the dog’s chest for a third time.
Siobhan straightened up and calmly slipped the stethoscope out of her ears. “No. Not anymore.”
Ryan blinked in surprise as she began to wrap the dog’s body up. A cold thrill washed through him and his hands clenched on the steel tabletop. “But you... he... I thought you said he’d be fine?”
“And now he is.” There was maybe a trace of impatience in her voice, but her eyes were endlessly cool. “He was old, Ryan, and he’d already gone into shock. He probably wouldn’t have survived the night, anyway.”
“You don’t know that,” he insisted, his stomach clenching as her eyes bored through him. “He might still have pulled through.”
“And then what?” she asked, her voice remote. “You saw how badly he’d been hurt. You think I’d have been doing him a favor, trying to keep him alive just so he could suffer a little while longer? I thought he deserved better than that.”
They stared at each other for a while longer. He was the first to look away. “Okay,” he said, shrugging a little as he tried not to think about the cold, fathomless depths he’d just glimpsed in her eyes.
It was her dog, after all. This was her job and, ultimately, it had been her call to make. She was the boss, and he had no right to second-guess her. But it still didn’t sit easy with him.
He watched as she finished wrapping the dog up and carefully stored it in the freezer chest, then went to work, methodically checking up on each of the animals in her care. He was impressed by her composure. Not many people handled the death of a pet that well. He was used to dealing with stuff like that, of course. But then, he supposed she was, too. Maybe a little too used to it, from the looks of things.
Still, perhaps he should just get out of her way for awhile. She didn’t look like she needed any help and she’d probably appreciate a little space in case she wanted to do her grieving in private.
“Well, I guess, if you don’t want me for anything right now, my dog could use a walk.” He cringed as he heard the words he’d just said. Oh, yeah, that was smooth, all right. Talking about his own dog when she’d just lost hers? Real sensitive, that was. Shit, where was his brain tonight?
But she hardly seemed to notice. “Don’t you think you should maybe change your clothes first?” she asked, shooting a critical glance in his direction as she went about closing things down for the night.
He looked down at his shirt, stained now with her dog’s blood. She had a point, he supposed. He’d make a hell of an impression on anyone he ran into looking like this. He’d better borrow a shirt from her again, before he took the dog out. But perhaps that wasn’t what she meant, either?
“You think maybe I should just go home?”
“If that’s what you want to do,” she answered, a little too quickly as she headed back up the stairs. Not even glancing in his direction. As if she couldn’t wait to be rid of him. As if she were once again shutting him out.
Anger exploded inside him. Ignoring the twinges in his leg he strode after her. He caught up to her just outside the door to her apartment, took hold of her shoulder and spun her around to face him. “Are you gonna use what happened today as an excuse to stop seeing m
e?” he demanded.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and Ryan could have kicked himself for putting that idea into her head.
“Look, Siobhan, I know it was my idea to go out for the day. And Monday night, too. And maybe you think if you’d been here then, that none of this would have happened, but—”
“Ryan, no. Stop.” She placed her fingers against his lips. “I’m not blaming you for any of this. Really. This isn’t your fault.”
He grabbed her hand, pulling it away from his lips and clutching it tightly. “You’re damn right it’s not my fault,” he snapped, barely stopping himself in time, before he pointed out the unlatched cage had been her fault. “So then tell me what’s going on in that head of yours tonight. Are you gonna break things off with me because of this?”
She looked at him for a long moment without speaking. He found himself holding his breath while he waited for her answer. His fingers clenched even more tightly around her hand. Finally she sighed. She shook her head.
“No. I’m not. I want this too much right now. I’ll just have to find some other way to deal with-”
Yes! Relief surged through him and he cut off her words with a kiss. She clung to him as he reached behind her to push open the door. Still kissing her, he walked her backwards towards her bedroom. The beaded curtain parted around them with a sigh. Starfish tangled briefly in her hair. Her knees hit the bed and she lost her balance, falling backwards into the blankets. He tumbled down after her.
“Wait, what about your dog?” she protested as he tugged her T-shirt free of her jeans. “I thought you were gonna take her for a walk?”
“The dog can wait,” he told her breathlessly, as he pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. “Everything can wait. Everything except this.”
He undid the front clasp of her bra and filled his hand with her breast; saw her eyes go dark, felt her shudder at his touch, her nipple growing hard beneath his palm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this aroused, this frantically eager to make love to anyone. Eager? Maybe desperate was a better word. And it was getting worse each time. Adrenaline, a small part of his brain suggested reasonably enough, but he wasn’t altogether certain that would account for it, either. Maybe he’d been fooling himself thinking he’d cooled things off between them yesterday. At the moment, he seemed as close to obsessed as he’d ever been. The scariest thing was... he didn’t even care.
“God, I want you,” he said on a groan, as he slid his hand to her waist. Using his tongue to caress her breasts’ taut peaks, he went to work unfastening her jeans. He’d lowered the zipper, and had grabbed hold of the heavy material when he felt her push his hand away.
“Let me do that,” she gasped, pushing at his hand. “You just take off your own clothes. I want to feel you, too, you know.”
He sat up quickly, unthinkingly, twisting around to put his feet on the floor. And was suddenly sucking for air as searing pain shot through his leg.
“Ryan?” Siobhan’s voice barely reached him through the haze of hurt. “Ryan, are you okay?”
He could only shake his head. He’d clamped his hand over the throbbing scar, but he couldn’t seem to make any other part of his body move. He was vaguely aware of her leaving the bed, and then she was kneeling in front of him, gently prying his hand away from his thigh.
“Here, let me help you,” she murmured, tenderly massaging the tight muscles. He forced himself to concentrate on her hand, rather than the ache in his leg. Gradually he felt his breathing return to normal. The dizzy, nauseated feeling receded a little. “When’s you next acupuncture appointment?” she asked after several minutes.
He had to think about that for awhile, before answering. “Tomorrow, I think.”
“Good.” Siobhan’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Now... lie down. I want to see if I can’t get these pants off you, okay?”
Ryan hesitated. The sight of her kneeling naked between his legs was almost enough to take his mind off the pain. Almost. But not quite. He was aching to touch her again, but in his present condition he didn’t dare try.
“Maybe in a little while, okay?” he said, trying to buy himself some time. “I need a couple of minutes first. I just... I gotta tell you, I don’t really think I’m up for this, right now.”
Her eyes strayed to the front of his jeans and he watched as her lips curled in a sly smile. “I’m thinking that might not have been the best choice of words.” The smile faded a little and she shook her head. “Relax, Ryan, I’m not stupid, you know. And I’m not going to try and seduce you while you’re hurting. But I can give you a much better massage without all the denim in the way.”
Still he hesitated. She might not be trying, but she was still being seductive as hell. And, oh, man, didn’t a massage sound tempting, though? Maybe a little too tempting. There was no way he could handle this right now. Her concern for him was threatening to eradicate what was left of the distance he’d been trying to maintain. “Maybe I should go home.”
“Yeah. Good idea, Ryan. Maybe you should walk.” She glared at him, her voice laced with exasperation. “You know, if you say that one more time tonight, I’m going to start thinking it’s what you really want to do.”
“It’s not that, exactly. It’s just—”
Siobhan shook her head again. “Come on, Ryan, stop fighting me. Would you just lie down? Please?”
Reluctantly, he complied with her request, practically groaning aloud in frustration as he felt her fingers at his waistband. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him, he wondered as she carefully stripped the pants over his hips and down his legs. Any other time—any other time at all—he’d be loving this. Hell, he was loving it now. Her hands felt so very wonderful as they set to work on his tortured muscles, and every minute he could feel a little more of his self-control slip away from him. He wanted to grab her, hold her close, demand the right to stay by her side forever. But that was just insane, and thinking like that would only get them both in trouble. “Ah, God, Siobhan,” he muttered, “Honey, you’re killing me here.”
Her hands stilled. She turned to look at him. “It’s not helping?”
He shook his head. “It feels wonderful, it’s just...”
“Just... ?” she prompted. He said nothing more, but the way he kept staring at her made her acutely aware, all at once, of her own nakedness. She felt her cheeks grow warm.
“Oh. Well. You uh, you certainly do wonderful things for my ego,” she murmured. He did wonderful things to a whole lot of other parts, too, she thought, as the aching warmth between her legs intensified. There had to be something seriously wrong with her if she could still be thinking about sex – no, still be wanting sex – while he was in such obvious pain.
On the other hand... perhaps if she gave him a little local anesthetic, they could go back to doing what they’d been about to do? He didn’t seem seriously incapacitated, after all, just—
She quickly dismissed the thought. She’d do well to remember that he was a cop, after all. He probably wouldn’t think twice about running her in for practicing medicine without a license, if she so much as mentioned a syringe right now. Why’d she have to be cursed with such lousy taste in men? Policemen, pranksters and priests. Wasn’t it just her luck? What had she ever done to deserve getting saddled with such a pathetic bunch of losers?
He sighed. “I do, huh? Well, that’s good, I guess. But I’m afraid your ego is gonna be the only part of you I do much of anything for, tonight.”
She stared at him in surprise. Her anger dissolving as she heard the bitterness in his tone. Was that why he kept suggesting he go home? He felt bad because he couldn’t perform sexually? Now she really felt guilty about the way her own thoughts had been trending.
Damn. She should have thought of that sooner. She’d always known how much he hated appearing vulnerable, but... oh, dear God, he couldn’t possibly be that blind, that stupid, that big of an idiot, could he? He couldn’t really believe the
only thing she wanted from him was sex? She studied his face in the semi-darkness. Oh. Sure. Of course he could.
And how much longer would it be before he once again suggested leaving?
Oh, hell, maybe she should let him. She’d known from the start that this relationship was a bad idea. She might want him, but getting any more deeply involved was the last thing she needed. And the way he kept tugging at her heartstrings? She was in real trouble here.
She needed to protect herself. If he left right now, maybe she could find a way to fortify her defenses. But he was really hurting tonight and her heart rebelled at the idea of sending him off like that. She just couldn’t do it. Somehow or other... she had to find a way to make him stay.
“Well, the night’s still young, you know,” she said, taking pains to keep any hint of pity out of her voice as she crept up the bed. She stretched out alongside him, propped her head on her fist and smiled. “Why don’t you spend the rest of it here? That way, in a while, if you’re feeling better…” She walked her fingers up his chest. He smelled of the sea, she thought longingly. He smelled of the beach they’d walked along this afternoon and his hair was the color of sand. She wanted to run her fingers through it. Wanted to pull him down on top of her and feel the weight of him pressing her into the sheets. Wanted to feel his warmth as it sank into her bones.
She took a deep breath and tried to calm her thoughts, watching as relief flared briefly in his eyes, only to be replaced, almost immediately again by doubt. He sighed. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, either. A couple of hours isn’t going to make that much difference.”
No, probably not, she thought. Not for either of them. It was going to be a long, frustrating night.
“Oh, Ryan.” She shook her head. Gently, she touched the side of his face. His jaw was tight with tension. Their eyes met in the moonlight and her heart ached at the pain she saw reflected there. For all his insufferable arrogance, his infuriating stubbornness, his goddamned macho pride, there were still some places in his soul where he was utterly defenseless.