His Target: The Downing Family Book 4

by Wild, Cassie

  “Fantastic,” I said. In truth, my head was spinning again, this time from the nearness of her and her scent. She smelled amazing, and I wanted to press my mouth to her skin, to her cheeks, her neck, search out the source of that delicious sweetness.

  She tugged her arm away, and I braced a hand on the stone next to me. I was really an asshole, playing her like this. That didn’t keep me from keeping up the act as she led me inside, though.

  Once she had me settled on a big couch that looked far more comfortable than what I was used to, she moved off into the kitchen. When she returned, she held a clear bottle with an orange lid in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

  “I’m assuming you didn’t get your prescription filled, did you?”

  I gave her a lopsided smile. “It’s like you’ve known me for ages.”

  She rolled her eyes and gave me the glass of water before opening the bottle. A few seconds later, she dumped four of the little orange pills in my hand. “It’s only ibuprofen, but that’s the safest thing for you since you have a head injury.”

  I nodded. I knew the routine. This wasn’t the first time I’d taken a knock to the head. Washing the pills down, I put the glass on the coffee table in front of me, then looked around. “This is a nice place.”

  “Thanks.” She sat down next to me, although not as close as I’d like. “How are you feeling?”

  “Lousy,” I said. At least that wasn’t a lie. My ribs hurt like a bitch, and my head was even worse.

  “You’ll have a rough couple of days before you really start feeling much better.”

  “That’s just what I wanted to hear,” I groused. I went to push my hair back out of my eyes, and my ribs twanged, causing me to wince.

  “Are you okay?”

  Briar had slid closer, and her hand now rested on my arm. Heat burned inside me, and I turned my head, meeting her eyes. “I’m fine,” I said. Without thinking about it, my gaze dropped to her mouth. I’d been dying to know how she’d taste almost from the second I’d seen her.

  Now she sat close enough, and we were alone.

  I didn’t even consider it. I just leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers.

  She gasped in surprise, and I didn’t waste the opportunity, dipping my tongue into her mouth and seeking out her taste. It was…divine. She tasted soft, sweet and utterly female—utterly delicious.

  She moaned a little.

  My cock started to swell.

  I went to reach for her, but she broke away. Her eyes were huge as she stared at me.

  A second later, she pushed up off the couch and paced a few steps away. “That’s not why I brought you here, Cormac,” she said in an unsteady voice.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I asked.

  “Because I couldn’t let you wander off to who knows where and spend the night alone, not when you’ve got a concussion.” She folded her arms over her chest and stared me down. “This way, I can keep an eye on you, and I don’t have to worry about losing sleep because I can’t stop thinking about whether you’re okay. You’re here, and I can make sure you stay okay.”

  “Very kind of you,” I murmured.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I’ll bring you some blankets and a pillow. Can you think of anything else you need?”

  “Yes,” I replied. My gaze lowered to her mouth once more, lingered, then slowly returned to her eyes.

  She blushed an even brighter shade of red. “Besides that,” she said.

  She didn’t wait for me to answer before turning on her heel and striding away. Once she was out of the room, I kicked my shoes off. Then, taking a deep breath, I started the slow, painful process of pulling my shirt off. I had just finished when she reappeared, and she stopped in the doorway, arms loaded down with blankets. Her eyes widened as she stared at my chest, and once more, heat built inside me.

  Almost immediately, her eyes darted away. “You look like somebody used you for a punching bag,” she said.

  Great, I thought wryly. I still had a hard-on, but she was more interested in my bruises than me.

  “I feel like somebody used me for a punching bag,” I replied.

  She approached, but I noticed she took care to stay just out of my reach. “If you’ll get up, I’ll make up the couch for you.”

  “I can handle it,” I said.

  She nodded, still not looking at me.

  “Briar.”

  She busied herself putting the sheets and blanket down, responding in a voice that sounded almost too polite. “Yes?”

  “Look at me.”

  For a few seconds, I didn’t think she would.

  But finally, she turned her head and met my eyes.

  “Should I apologize for kissing you?”

  She licked her lips, clearly thinking about it. Finally, she gave a slow shake of her head. “But it’s not right. You’ve got a head injury, and you’re only here so I can make sure you’re okay. It’s just…it’s not right.”

  “Okay.” I offered her a crooked grin. “My head injury will get better. Just so you know.”

  She blushed once more. “I’m tired, so I’m going on up to bed. Before I do, are you hungry?”

  I actually was, but I knew better than to eat when my head was hurting so much, so I said, “I’ll be fine.”

  As she turned to leave the room, I added, “Thanks, Briar.”

  She made a low noise in her throat, some sort of response although I couldn’t tell if she had said anything. A moment later, she was gone.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the couch cushions and dragged my hands down my face.

  And just to torture myself, I licked my lips.

  I could, barely, taste her there.

  I wanted more.

  A lot more.

  * * *

  Although she was clearly trying to be quiet—and succeeding—when Briar came into the room sometime the next morning, I was already awake. I pretended otherwise, keeping my eyes closed as she came forward. I could all but feel the heat coming from her as she hesitated next to me.

  The last time I’d looked at the clock had been maybe a few minutes before she came in, and it had been close to ten. I’d gotten more rest than I’d expected to, so I should have just sat up, thanked her for helping out, then been on my way.

  My head still hurt, but not as much as it had. My ribs were the worst, and they were aching so bad, I didn’t even want to think about sitting up.

  I feigned sleep, wondering what she would do.

  When I heard her leave the room, I popped one eye open, a little surprised.

  She’d come into the living room several times during the night to shake me awake and ask me about my headache or hold her fingers up in front of me while having me tell her how many. It was pretty standard for monitoring a head injury, something I knew from experience.

  But she hadn’t woken me up since that last check, sometime around six that morning. That she hadn’t woken me up just now was a surprise, but at the same time, I felt pretty pleased with myself.

  My self-satisfaction only grew as she actually left the house and locked up sometime later. She’d made one more trip into the living room, and this time, she’d spoken my name. Afraid she’d get concerned if I didn’t answer, I popped open one eye and mumbled out, “No more fingers. My head’s fine.” Then I rolled over and pretended to fall right back to sleep.

  She nudged my shoulder twice, but I didn’t respond.

  Finally, she’d huffed out a breath and left.

  I listened as I heard the powerful motor of her sexy little Ferrari come roaring to life.

  Rising from the couch, I made my way over to the window, staying to the side, out of view. I could only see the hood of the car and was prepared to dash back to the couch at a moment’s notice.

  But as I stood there, she slowly backed out of the driveway.

  That was it.

  She was leaving me alone.

  Feeling a little pleased with myself, I went bac
k to the couch and laid down, although I had no intention of falling asleep.

  After a few moments, I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and punched in a number. I had to check in. I was, after all, on the clock.

  “I’ve made headway,” I said when the other end of the line was answered by a low, pleasant male voice.

  “Good. Anything interesting you’ve learned so far?”

  I glanced around the pretty little house, then focused back on the call. “She’s got a nice house and a kick-ass car. That’s about all I know for now.”

  “Stay on it.” The call ended before I could answer.

  “Asshole,” I muttered, shoving the phone back into my pocket.

  It didn’t really matter if he was an asshole or not, though. Not as long as I got paid.

  Ten

  Briar

  If I got home and found that I’d been robbed, I was going to have nobody to blame but myself. I’d tried to wake Cormac up before I left for the hospital, but he hadn’t done much more than grumble at me before going back to sleep. He’d been doing fine every time I woke him during the night, and I had no doubt he was exhausted.

  Hell, I was exhausted, and I was used to being sleep deprived. If I’d had the option, I wouldn’t have crawled out of bed when I did. But Raisa had told me the night before that I needed to spend a day shadowing one of the trauma surgeons, which meant I needed to get my ass to the hospital.

  It had been an exciting day, even though I was only shadowing again.

  This time, I was following one Dr. Gene Wo. Not long after we’d been introduced, a man was rushed into the ED, bleeding from his stomach. We learned he’d been stabbed by his live-in girlfriend, and his neighbors had called paramedics after he’d stumbled out of the apartment.

  The knife had perforated the bowel, and Wo was the one tasked with getting him into the OR and dealing with the damage.

  Wo was a charismatic guy who stood several inches shorter than me, and as he’d walked and talked me through the surgery, he took care to ask questions and ask for my opinion.

  Even though I didn’t help with the surgery, it was still a bit of a rush to see the man’s vitals stabilizing, then watch as he was wheeled off into recovery.

  Then we got to dance with the cops, because the neighbors had also called them and the girlfriend was on the run, trying to avoid being picked up for almost killing the guy.

  The cops wanted to interview him.

  He needed to stay in recovery, and around and around we went.

  We also had to treat a patient needing an emergency gallbladder removal. By the time we were done with that, Raisa informed me I was done for the day.

  I was hungry enough to eat a horse, but instead of stopping somewhere to get something to eat, I drove straight home, worried I’d get there and find everything but the kitchen sink missing.

  I was more than a little surprised when I was greeted with the scent of something amazing in the air the moment I walked through the door. I hadn’t even had a chance to put my bag down before Cormac appeared in the hallway, smiling at me. He looked far better than he had last night, save for the ugly, purpling bruise on his face.

  “You’re still here,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “I thought I’d pay you back for your kindness by making dinner.” His smile widened, and a dimple flashed in one cheek.

  My heart fluttered. “You made me dinner?” I asked, surprised.

  “Well, I’m still making it, but yeah.” He cocked his head. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving,” I said with a gusty sigh. My knees were almost weak with relief to find not only that he hadn’t robbed me, but that he was still here. I hadn’t realized how much I’d be bothered if he’d just disappeared without a word. Crossing the entryway, I put my bag down on the small table tucked up against the wall, then looked back at him. He seemed to fill my entire field of vision, standing there looking battered and bruised yet still sexy as hell. Tipping my head back, I met his eyes. “What’s on the menu?”

  His eyes drooped down, and heat arrowed through me at the look. I almost had to start fanning myself. The gaze he directed at me made it clear what he’d like to have on the menu, and the raw desire in that look all but melted me.

  But he didn’t reach out and touch me, didn’t try to kiss me.

  If he had, I doubted I’d have the strength to push him away like I had last night. And that had been a near thing. Despite the bruises, he looked like he was feeling just fine, and now that I didn’t have the issue of his health between us, my libido was raging out of control.

  Careful, Briar…you’re his doctor.

  But that wasn’t entirely accurate. He’d been an emergency case, and it was clear that he no longer needed medical attention. Was it crossing a line now that he was no longer under a doctor’s care?

  Possibly, and I needed to think things through before I went any further.

  “Pasta,” Cormac said.

  Confused, I cocked my head. “Oh! Dinner.” Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I busied myself with looking down at my scrubs then back at him. “I need to change out of these scrubs, though. Clean up a little.”

  “Okay. I can keep it holding another fifteen minutes or so.” He reached out and trailed a finger down my cheek, holding my eyes the entire time. “Hurry, though. I’m pretty damn hungry myself.”

  The look he gave me made it clear he was hungry for a lot more than food.

  My knees threatened to give out.

  I was definitely hungry for more than food.

  My belly rumbled then, embarrassing me with its loud demands. I grinned self-consciously and put a hand over the growling. “Give me a few minutes.”

  Once in my room, I stripped out of the scrubs and shoved them into a hamper. I debated on a shower. I almost always took one the second I got in from work, but I didn’t want to keep Cormac waiting. I compromised by darting into the bathroom and washing up with a rag, then dragging a brush through my hair. Naked, I padded back into my bedroom.

  I heard noise coming from the kitchen directly below me, and some brazen hussy I hadn’t even known existed inside me started to wonder what Cormac would do if I walked downstairs right now, completely nude.

  The idea should have mortified me. I wasn’t a virgin, but I wasn’t really experienced either. I’d only had a few lovers. It had been pretty much impossible for me to date when I’d been in college, considering I’d started so young. By the time I reached medical school, I was still far younger than most of the students, and there had been an awkwardness between me and many of my classmates. It hadn’t been until I started my residency that I’d started to come out of my shell, and working almost around the clock didn’t exactly allow for a lot of romantic interludes.

  But instead of being mortified, I found myself considering the idea. I knew he wanted me. It was in his eyes. Would it really be so hard to walk down there naked and see what happened?

  In the end, though, the rational part of my brain took over. I ended up dressing in a pair of yoga pants. Instead of the oversized tees I often wore in the evening, I found a pretty camisole with lace along the top edge and put it on. Nothing fussy or anything, and it definitely wasn’t some come-hither apparel, but a look in the mirror assured me that I looked pretty good.

  Pressing a hand to my belly, I took one deep breath, then turned and headed downstairs.

  I found Cormac serving up two dishes, each of them heaped with pasta, tomatoes, and cheese. A closer look showed there were herbs, maybe some garlic. It smelled divine.

  He looked up, that warm, sexy smile curling his lips at the sight of me.

  “I used some of the bread you had on the counter. Hope you don’t mind,” he said.

  Mutely, I shook my head. As he turned toward the stove, I moved over to the fridge and opened it, studying the three bottles of wine I had chilling. I selected the bottle of Pinot Noir and got down two wine glasses. I briefly considered whether I should offer him any, but it
had been more than twenty-four hours since his discharge, even if he had loitered around while he waited for me for quite some time in the parking lot.

  As he got the bread from the oven, I opened the bottle of wine and poured for both of us.

  He gave the glass a skeptical look. “I’m not much of a wine drinker. I’m more for beer or just straight Jack Daniels.”

  “Try it,” I suggested. “You might be surprised.”

  “Fine.” He gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes and took one of the glasses. “Sláinte!”

  “Good health,” I observed.

  His eyes gleamed. “You know your Gaelic.”

  “Just a few bits here and there.” I offered a small shrug. “I’m part Irish, after all.”

  “Are you now?” His brogue had deepened. “What part?”

  “County Cork.”

  A smile spread across his lips. “Home of the famed Blarney Stone. Ever seen it?”

  “Yes.” I allowed myself a small smile as I recalled my trips to Ireland over the years. At first, we’d traveled with Mom and Dad, then after she died, the trips had all but ceased to happen. Once I reached eighteen, I’d started traveling on my own and had been to Ireland five times in the past seven years.

  “And did you kiss it?”

  Just watching his lips form the word kiss made my knees feel a little weak. Trying to focus, I studied the wine in my glass critically. “I don’t think so.” I wrinkled my nose and looked back at him. “You know how many people have kissed that thing?”

  “Too many.” He winked at me. “I wouldn’t kiss it either. It looks rather…gross.” He hitched up a shoulder and added, “Besides, it’s been suggested that I already have the gift of gab.”

  “I never would have noticed,” I said loftily. I took a sip of my wine then gestured to the small island that did double duty as a table. “Are we ready to eat?”

  “After you.” He gestured toward the dishes he’d served up.

  As I walked by him, I felt the seductive heat of his body and closed my eyes briefly as desire washed over me. My throat was dry, and I took a gulp from the wine that was far too large. I all but drained it and gave it a considering look as I sat down.